A Sicilian Seduction

‘Bland,’ he replied, showing he felt the same as she did. ‘Serena’s choice, if I am not mistaken. Being a black-haired, black-eyed witch, she likes to make an impression in any given situation. And she would make an impression in here,’ he said.

Then he turned to look at Natalia.

‘No,’ she gasped when she saw his expression. But it was already too late. His hand snaked up, pulled the clasp from her hair, then stood back to watch the silken strands tumble in a glistening copper flow down her neck and over her shoulders until they settled like a caress to the curve of her breasts.

‘Now that,’ he drawled, ‘is what I call making an impression.’

Copper-fire hair, white skin, rose-coloured lips, wide, shock-darkened lover-blue eyes, he listed covetously. Long black suit hugging a slender body, breasts that wanted to feel his touch again—and a pair of amazing legs which were taking her backwards in a useless bid for escape.

She’d missed her only chance, he saw, as her wary reversing took her right away from the open lift. Which left her with nowhere else to go but deeper into the apartment, treading bright white tiles on slender heels that made tiny tapping sounds as she went.

He began to track her, his hand snaking out to flick the button that would send the lift away. Watching him do it, she realised her mistake, her lips fell open and began to tremor, and his chest began to beat to the drum of the chase.

‘Th-this isn’t funny,’ she stammered on a constricted flow of air.

‘I am not laughing,’ he pointed out, lifting his hand up to the knot of his tie to slowly begin pulling at it.

If it was possible her eyes grew wider, flickering from his fingers to his eyes in a slightly wild stare of disbelief.

He said nothing else. He didn’t need to. The tie came loose and he began sliding it leisurely from around his throat. He let it fall in a snake-like slither to the floor, then began unhooking shirt buttons.

She went stock-still—then jerked a hand up to press it against her upper chest, and he smiled as he came to a standstill, because he knew she had picked up the same beat he was feeling.

‘Going to stop me?’ he taunted softly while his fingers continued slowly slipping open buttons. ‘All you need to do is say the word, and it stops right here…’

The big test. The acid test. Natalia knew she was hovering on the edge of a rather large precipice. She either backed herself right off it, or she held her ground. It was her choice. He was giving her the choice.

Her mouth was dry, her throat tight, her body pulsing to its own hectic rhythm. There he was, standing there, no longer looking quite so razor-sharp any more, with his tie gone and his shirt buttons half open down his front so she could see tantalising glimpses of golden skin and dark body hair—and even smell that illusive scent she recognised on an another level of consciousness as utterly seductive.

Pheromone, they called it. The sexually aroused male putting out messages to the sexually aware female.

But this male and this female—? She lifted her gaze to his dark, compelling eyes and saw the capital red letters DANGER gleaming warningly there. Think of the complications, she told herself. Think of Edward—the lies! Think what you could be risking here!

Think of that mouth fixed on your mouth, her foolish heart suggested, sending her eyes flickering again on a downward path over a face she didn’t seem to be able to look at enough. Then onto his hands, which made her flesh tingle with excitement, and his body, which filled her with such clamouring hunger.

And what was it but sex? she tried telling herself. I can do that! I can live with that! I can enjoy this man then let him go when it’s time to call a stop to it before it has a chance to hurt other people! I can do it, she insisted, and felt her heart give a heavy thump at the decision, then start racing furiously as if it knew something she didn’t…

What was she thinking? What was going on inside that beautiful head to make her stand there looking at him like that? Indecision? Uncertainty?

Loyal thoughts of Edward?

The very suggestion made something violent wrench inside of him, and in angry response to it he began striding forward. He didn’t want to hear Edward’s name falling from her trembling lips, so he was going to make damn sure it didn’t happen!

Reaching for her, he fed his fingers into her glorious mass of hair, used his thumbs to cup her chin so he could keep that exquisite face turned up to his—then lowered his head and kissed her. The sheer he

at of her response reached right down to the very core of his manhood. He heard himself groan. She let out a little whimper that told him she was experiencing exactly the same as he. The knowledge soared like a phoenix rising out of the fire of his anger to consume him with the need to make her catch fire too.

He altered his stance, inviting her closer. She came without hesitation, sinking into him and lifting her hands to fold them around his neck while he sent his sliding slowly downwards. Over her shoulders, down her back, feeling the hectic pulse of her heart as he passed over her ribcage, then on down until finally they settled against the curving firmness of her hips.

And through it all their mouths strained against each other. Warm and hungry, soft and deep. He was back in control. The seduction was on. They had only one place to go from here.

Yet—what did he do?

He broke the kiss, looked deep into her passion-glazed, most definitely sultry blue eyes which held all the promises of life’s rarest pleasures just waiting for him to tap into them—and he changed his mind.

‘No,’ he said, quietly and very calmly.

She began to frown, her softly parted, gently pulsing mouth still feeling his mouth against it. ‘No?’ she replied in sweet confusion.