A sound burst from Caroline’s throat. “You—you pompous, egotistical, obnoxious…” She drew a ragged breath. “How dare you make speeches to me about what’s proper and what’s not? You—you lied to me, damn you! You—you told me your grandmother was—”
She gasped as Nicolo reached out and caught her by the shoulders.
“Watch what you say to me, signorina.” His voice was rough with barely suppressed fury. “A Sabatini is not a liar.”
“No? Then what was that ridiculous story about your grandmother being ill and asking for me? How could you use an old woman to—”
“I have used no one! I am bringing you to la Principessa.” His nostrils flared with distaste. “Although why I let her talk me into doing such a foolish thing is beyond my comprehension.”
“Is it?” Caroline demanded. “Or did it suit your plans, after that miserable failure last night?”
“Failure? Failure of what?”
“Come on, let’s not play games! You tried to seduce me, but it didn’t work. So now—”
“And you accuse me of having an oversize ego? Per Dio, listen to yourself!” Nicolo’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “For the last time, I did not try and seduce you.”
“You did. And I’m damned if I’m going to permit you to—”
“Is this what it means to be a liberated woman? To curse? To besmirch a man’s honor?” His eyes flashed a warning. “To accuse him of failure because your own ego cannot survive the knowledge that a man does not want you?”
“That is so ridiculous! It’s—It’s—”
“If I had tried to seduce you,” he growled, “you would know it.”
Caroline’s eyebrows lifted. “Meaning, I suppose, that I’d have fallen over in a swoon?”
A tight smile curled across his mouth. “Meaning,” he said slowly, “that you would have spent the night in my bed.”
“You’re unbelievable! Impossible! You—”
“You would have spent the night in my arms, Caroline,” he caught her hands in one of his as she began to raise them, “crying out my name as I touched you, begging me to take you over and over again, until finally the sun chased away the darkness.”
She was twisting in his arms, hating the soft, insolent tone of his voice, the smug little smile on his mouth, hating, too, the fact that she felt powerless. She was not a petite girl, she never had been; she was strong and healthy from years of watching her diet and hard, sweaty workouts in the gym. She prided herself on her strength—and yet this man, who had already proven he could stand up to her verbally, was holding her off as if she were a feather.
“You—you insufferable bastard!” she panted. “Do you always get what you want?”
He laughed. “Always,” he said, and his mouth dropped to hers.
His kiss was a complete surprise. Whatever else he might be, instinct told her Nicolo Sabatini was not a man to force himself on a woman.
What was he proving, then? That he could overpower her? He had already done that; what greater proof did he want than her immobility in his arms? That he was impossible to resist? But she had resisted him. She had!
Her heart missed a beat. What was he doing? His mouth, so hard and demanding at first, was softening, moving slowly over hers.
Did he think she could be won over with gentleness? Did he think—did he think…?
His teeth closed lightly on her bottom lip. She gave a little whimper, and instantly the tip of his tongue stroked gently across her flesh. A sound, the barest whisper of something that might have been a moan, rose in her throat.
Something was stirring deep inside her. Heat. Heat, rising and spreading through her blood like the morning fog in a Vermont meadow, like—like—
“Caroline.” Nicolo whispered her name against her mouth, and, without knowing she was doing it, she whispered his name in return, parting her lips, opening them to his. His tongue slid against hers; she shuddered, not with anger nor with displeasure but with some dark, deep emotion.
He murmured in Italian, words she could not understand, let go of her wrists, and swept her into his arms, gathering her to him until her heart was pressed tightly to his, until her hands lifted and slipped around his neck. His kiss deepened. It was the kiss of a man who wanted a woman, who knew she wanted him. It held passion and fire, it was a kiss of domination that asked for surrender yet promised surrender in return.
When he put her from him, she made a soft sound of distress.
“Caroline.”
Her eyes blinked open—and her face flamed scarlet.
He was watching her with eyes that blazed, not with passion but with cold satisfaction.
“You see how it is, cara,” he said calmly. “If I had wished to have you, I would have done so.” He smiled easily and ran his knuckles lightly down her cheek. “That you spent the night without the pleasure of my company was my decision, not yours.”
Caroline’s reaction was instantaneous.
“You—you—” Her hand shot up and Nicolo caught hold of it and twisted it down into her lap.
“Perhaps it is time we discussed the rules that will govern the unfortunate time we spend together until I return you to Milano tomorrow.”
“You’ll return me to Milan immediately, do you hear? I’ve no intention of—”
“Tomorrow,” he repeated sharply, “after you have seen la Principessa, after you have sat with her and given her pleasure. Is that understood?”
“Who do you think you are?”
“You have asked me that before, and I have told you.” His lips curled with amusement. “Although now, I think, it would be best if you called me ‘Nicolo,’ yes? Besides, my grandmother will expect a lessening of formality, while you are in my home.”
“I am not going to Rome! You’d better get that through your thick skull! And you’d better let go of my wrist. Dammit…”
“You have already forgotten the first rule. I told you, there will be no more vulgarity. Perhaps the other men you know find it stimulating to hear such words come from the face of a woman who has the beauty of a madonna, but I do not.” His eyes held hers. “And you will do all you can to make my grandmother think you are happy to see her again.”
“I would be, if it didn’t mean I had to see you, as well!” Caroline slammed her free hand into his chest and he caught it easily, imprisoning it, as well. “Do you have any idea how much I dislike you?”
“If it cheers you any, be assured that the depth of feeling you hold for me is more than returned in kind.”
“I don’t understand you,” she said furiously. “If you hate me so, why are you so insistent on dragging me to Rome? Is it really so important to you to get your own way?”
“I told you, I do this for la Principessa. For her sake, you will smile and pretend to be the sweet, charming young woman she so foolishly believes you to be.” A harsh smile angled across his mouth. “I am not asking so much of you, after all. You are an excellent actress, cara. I have seen you on stage, pretending to sensuality, when in truth you are frigid as a winter storm.” His smile twisted. “Or is it that you play the Ice Queen only to capture a man’s interest?”
Caroline twisted her hands free of his. “You’ll never know,” she said, staring back at him as she rubbed her wrists. “Because as far as I’m concerned, if I never see you again…”
“Yes. That is fine with me. Tomorrow, I will return you to Milan, and, if we are fortunate, neither of us will ever have to see the other again. But first, you will do what you can to please a tired old woman. Do we understand each other?”
Caroline glared at him. “Do I have a choice?”
He smiled coolly. “I see that we do, indeed, understand each other.”
“It’s just that I doubt that your grandmother sent you after me with instructions to—to abduct me and drag me to Rome at any cost.”
He shot her a quick look. “You will not say that to her.”
I’ll say what I damned well please, Caroline th
ought. But then she remembered the white-haired, fragile old woman she’d met last night, and she sighed.
“No. I won’t.” She gave him an angry glare. “But not out of any consideration for you.”
“Yes.” He leaned forward and threw open the privacy panel. They were obviously nearing the airport; signs announcing the different terminals were flashing by. “I must admit, your ready acquiescence surprised me. I was prepared to tell la Principessa you could not pay her a visit.”
“Yes. I’m sure you were. In fact, I’m sure you were prepared to tell her I didn’t care if she was ill or not.”
Nicolo shrugged. “I just said—”
“That I surprised you.” She blew out her breath. “Well, you haven’t surprised me, not one bit. You’re exactly the way I thought you’d be.”
His laughter was quick and easy. “I take it that is not meant as a compliment.”
“You take it right,” she said stiffly. There was a silence, and then she looked at him. “You haven’t said how long the trip will take.”