Defying Her Billionaire Protector

But neither of those excuses was valid.

The truth was she had wanted to provoke him—because a reckless yearning had been building in her all day. A yearning to find out if a man like Nico could be attracted to a woman like her—a woman whom society largely viewed as disabled.

She knew the wheelchair frightened most men. Some wrongly assumed she couldn’t have sex or wouldn’t enjoy it. Others, she guessed, were repelled by her useless legs. Davide had been different in that regard, and their sex-life had been healthy, satisfying—though not the kind of passionate, all-consuming sex she’d fantasised about as a teenager.

She had a feeling deep in her belly, where the butterflies had gathered en masse now, that sex with Nico would be the kind of wild, passionate sex she’d long ago resigned herself to never experiencing.

And Nico was attracted to her. She had seen the evidence as soon as she’d made that provocative suggestion about swimming naked at his beach. Had seen it stamped on his face—a raw hunger her body had instinctively responded to with its own powerful throb of need.

He had almost kissed her. Standing there grasping her chin and glaring down at her, anger and desire pulsing off him in waves, he had looked like a man fighting for control.

And, oh, she had wanted him to kiss her. Even knowing that if he did it wouldn’t be gentle. That there would be fire and fury behind his kiss. When he hadn’t—when he’d walked away

from her instead—her disappointment had been so intense it had felt like a physical blow against her ribs.

He’d negotiated the last few steps now, and Marietta’s eyes widened as he carried her across the sand to where a blue-and-white-striped awning stood in a sheltered lee off the cliff. Beneath the awning lay a picnic rug and a bunch of big, comfy-looking cushions, and on a corner of the rug, shaded from the direct heat of the midday sun, sat a large wicker basket.

‘Nico!’ Her voice came out breathless. ‘How many trips did this take you?’

‘A few.’

He knelt on the rug and she slid off his back, the friction between their bodies teasing her already over-sensitised nipples into hard, aching nubs. She plucked her tee shirt away from her breasts before he turned, glad that she’d put the loose-fitting white tee on over her yellow bikini top. She slipped her hands under her legs and straightened them out in front of her.

Nico propped two cushions behind her back. ‘Comfortable?’

She nodded, looked around her. ‘It’s beautiful, Nico.’

She ran her hand through the warm sand. The pearly-white granules felt luxuriously soft as they sifted through her fingers. She looked towards the calm water in the inlet. It was a clear, stunning turquoise—the kind seen on postcards of exotic locales that most people only ever dreamed of visiting. Best of all, the cove was utterly, totally private.

‘I can’t believe you’ve never been down here before.’

Nico shrugged and kicked off his sneakers. He wore khaki shorts and a black polo shirt and he looked big and vital and masculine. He lifted the lid off the hamper. ‘I didn’t know what you’d want to eat...’ He started pulling out items. ‘So I brought a bit of everything.’

He wasn’t joking. There were fruits, olives, crackers, breads, pickles and a variety of meats and cheeses in a small cooler, plus water, soda and two bottles of wine—a red Cabernet and a chilled white. Cutlery, plastic plates and glasses emerged as well, along with condiments and a packet of paper serviettes.

Marietta couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I bet you never go anywhere unprepared.’

Nico opened a water bottle and handed it to her. ‘Who’s the guy you want to be with when disaster strikes?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘You,’ she conceded.

A smug look crossed his face. He planted his hands on his thighs and surveyed the enormous spread of food. ‘I hope you’re hungry.’

‘Not this hungry.’ She reached for a bunch of green grapes and smiled. ‘But I’ll give it my best shot.’

In the end, however, Marietta found she could eat very little. Thoughts of what they might do together after lunch made her stomach too jittery. She did manage a small glass of white wine, hoping it would lend her some much needed Dutch courage.

Now she lay on her back under the awning, her eyes closed, wondering if she needn’t have bothered with the wine. If perhaps she’d been a fool to think anything was going to happen beyond a picnic lunch on the beach. Because Nico hadn’t suggested they swim, nor made a move to touch her, nor even so much as uttered a word in the last fifteen minutes.

Yet a definite tension permeated the air. Her sixth sense could intuit it—just as her other senses could detect him. The scent of soap and the faint tang of clean, male sweat. The sound of his breathing, deep and even. And his heat. She could feel the heat that seemed always to radiate from him, as if his body were a non-stop furnace. Whenever he was close that heat enveloped her, penetrating her skin, sinking into her bones and making her feel as if she were melting.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. He lay beside her, his eyes closed, but she knew he wasn’t sleeping. Nico didn’t strike her as the kind of man who indulged in daytime naps. In fact she half suspected that even at night he slept with one eye open. She let her gaze drift down, away from his strong profile, and mentally braced herself for the heart-stopping impact of his bare torso.

He was utter perfection. Hard muscle, smooth skin, dark, crisp hair in all the places a man should have hair—including a liberal sprinkling over his sculpted pecs and a narrow line bisecting his washboard abs. A black ink tattoo adorned his upper left arm and a long rough-edged scar curled over the same shoulder.

I’ve seen more things in this world than you can imagine—and most of them I never wish to see again.

His words from the previous evening came back to her, sending a shiver through her now as they had then. Nico had sounded so grim in that moment, so haunted, and she’d wanted to ask him what he’d seen that had been so terrible he never wanted to see it again. That had made him into a man who guarded his privacy and kept himself aloof from the world. But she had reined in her curiosity, knowing it wouldn’t be welcome. Knowing instinctively that if she probed, their conversation would be over before it started.