The Italian's Price

But his bellowed insult moved her to self defence and she raised her chin her heart still pounding from her efforts her breasts heaving, pushing against the clinging, useless scraps of fabric and snapped right back ‘How was I to know? And you can stop yellingl' She shimmied her shoulders wildly, trying to loosen his punishing grip, but his hands just slid down to her waist, tugging her towards him with a bitten out, 'You-'

Then his mouth was on hers with forceful angry passion one hand pressing her body into his until she could feel the imprint of every muscle the shocking hardness of his arousal against the wet quivering flesh of her tummy, the other hand behind her head holding her against any hope of escape.

Not that escape entered her mind. She had never experienced anything like this-this hot searing passion, this crazy escalation of sensation setting every atom of her flesh on fire.

Milly's arms wound up to coil around his neck her lips parting in instinctive eager welcome and she heard him groan, low and deep, his mouth gentling, moving sensually as his tongue stroked hers for giddying moments before moving down and taking the hard crest of her breast after nudging the unresisting scrap of wet fabric aside.

Cesare moved slowly towards the shore taking her with him bodies moving as one, clinging, lost in drugged pleasure and his mouth explored now gentle awestruck by the sweet perfection of her the soft hollow at her temples the tender underside of her jaw her throat where a pulse was beating madly. His hands moved disposing of the flimsy scraps that were an insult to the pert glory of her peaking breasts.

Bewitching.

He was bewitched.

His hands moved shaped her breasts then the tips of his fingers explored her tight nipples and the air in his lungs felt hot and heavy as she threw her head back her eyes closing, her soft pink lips parted as her hips moved with instinctive rhythm against his rampant arousal.

Shock waves of sensation had him almost stumbling as his feet encountered the hot sand of the secluded beach. His mouth took hers with almost savagely passionate intent as he drew her down on to the sand and groaned with all male pleasure as she wrapped her lovely legs around his hips and trembled.

Madness .

Irresistible madness

She was open to him. And hot. Hot. Hot.

Bella, bella, bella-'

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE DISTINCTIVE RING tone of his mobile phone had the salutary effect of a bucket of ice cold water.

Cesare's dark head shot up.

Porca liberia. Had he run mad? He'd been controlled by lust for the first time in his life, forgetting who she was who he was! It was demeaning and he didn't like the experience.

Her hands were clinging to his shoulders. He firmly detached them and not looking at her for shame, he disentangled himself, jerked to his feet and strode over the few paces to where he'd left his rucksack before he'd turned insane.

Noting with deep distaste that his hands weren't steady, he extracted the slim mobile and ground out, ‘Che?' And went still.

Almost sobbing with a horrible mixture of shameful sexual frustration, blind panic and helpless modification, Milly scrambled to her feet and stumbled over the soft sand and, all fingers and thumbs, began to struggle into her shorts and top.

What must he think of her? Her eyes sparkled with scalding tears and her face burned hot and scarlet. That she was an out and out slut? His for the taking!

And what was almost worse, the painful conclusion that she didn't want him to think badly of her, that his good opinion mattered-more than anything else.

How could she explain, tell him that she wasn't like that, that this sort of thing had never happened to her before-and expect him to listen, let alone believe her? And that led to another conclusion she really didn't want to have to think about.

The final irony-he thought she was Jilly, his ex-lover. He wouldn't have batted an eyelash at her frenzied response, naturally he wouldn't cynically putting it down to a resumption of past pleasures.

It just went to show that she'd been so lost in wanting him, needing him, that she'd totally forgotten who she was supposed to be to the extent that she'd been frantically wondering how she could convince him that this sort of behaviour wasn't normal for her and what had happened had only happened because for her he was special.

Squirming inside with sickening embarrassment she had to concede that she'd come within a whisker of giving herself away-in more sense

s than one.

If there had been no interruption their steamy encounter would have reached an inevitable conclusion. He would have known then' he wasn't stupid. She was a virgin Jilly certainly wasn't! Finally the top was in place the tie ends more or less securely fastened and her head downbeat in modification she peered up at him through her lashes. He was speaking in his own language, his tone questioning, terse. Then he closed the phone with a snap, tossed it into the rucksack and dragged on his jeans.

The belt buckle swiftly dealt with, he scooped up the rucksack, slinging it over his shoulder, then turned to her as if he had only just recalled her existence, his brow clenched in a black frown. Milly hung her head in a vain attempt to hide the renewed flush of humiliation that burned on her face.

His voice harsh, he imparted, ‘Nonna had a bad fall this morning. That was Rosa to tell me they'd just returned from Casualty. We leave for the mainland immediately.'