Defying the Prince

‘I won’t be too busy,’ she said huskily. ‘It would be great to see you there.’

‘So are you and the prince—you know—like, together?’

Izzy had no idea how to answer that. What was the definition of ‘together’? ‘We’re friends.’

Matteo was like a castle, she thought miserably. He’d built a moat round himself for protection and so far he hadn’t lowered the drawbridge.

She was beginning to think he never would.

‘You’re unusually quiet.’ Matteo shrugged off his jacket, watching Izzy as she slipped off her shoes. ‘Did the visit upset you?’

‘No.’ She didn’t look at him. ‘I’m glad you took me along.’

‘From the moment they saw your picture at the engagement party they’ve been nagging me to bring you. Especially Jessica.’ Still watching her, Matteo dropped his cufflinks onto the table. ‘You have a bigger fan base than you know.’ Something was bothering her, that was obvious, but for once she didn’t seem to be spilling her feelings all over the place.

‘That’s nice.’

‘It was kind of you to give her the dress.’ When she didn’t respond he shot her a look of concern and exasperation. ‘Normally I can’t stop you talking. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing at all.’ Her smile was a little too bright. ‘Unzip me?’

She turned her back and Matteo unzipped the dress.

As his hands brushed against her she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

‘Kiss me,’ she said urgently. ‘Right now.’

Her head tipped back and heat went rampaging through his body. The part of him that wanted to demand to know what she was thinking was eclipsed by that primitive part of him that just wanted to flatten her to the nearest hard surface and claim her as his woman. The tangled web of contradictory messages inside himself was starting to drive him mad.

He wanted her.

But he didn’t want her too close.

He was programmed to avoid intimacy but when she was the one building the barriers he just wanted to smash them down.

Losing himself in the one response he was sure of, he hauled her against him and attempted to blank out the questions in his head. Sexual excitement ripped through both of them and he felt his body harden, the arousal powerful and immediate. The unzipped dress surrendered to the firm touch of his hands and slithered to the floor. She was hot, naked and willing, and yet even in the storm of physical excitement there was no escape because he felt things he’d never felt before and wanted to say things he’d never said before.

He knew he was out of control but so was she, her nails scraping his back as he rolled her under him and entered her with a single smooth thrust that brought a gasp to her lips and a harsh exclamation to his.

‘Izzy—’ He closed his eyes and tried to regain some element of control but there was none to be had, not with the slick slide of her body under his and the heat of her mouth branding his throat.

Afterwards she wrapped herself around him and after a moment’s hesitation he held her tightly, wondering how a hug could feel as close as a more intimate connection.

It was the closest he’d ever been to a woman and the feeling shook him so much tha

t for hours after she’d fallen asleep he lay awake staring into the darkness.

He woke to find her already dressed in the minuscule lacy shorts that made her legs seem endless. She was stuffing clothes into her case.

Matteo sat up and ran his hand over his face. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Packing. The concert is tonight and I’m going home after that.’

‘Home? Home as in England?’

‘Where else?’ Brisk and efficient, she stuffed her clothes into her case. ‘And because it’s going to be mad and crazy this afternoon I wanted to say thank-you now in case I don’t get the chance later.’

The sudden chill in the room made him wonder if the air conditioning was malfunctioning. ‘What are you thanking me for?’