‘What time is it?’ she mumbled, taken aback by the fact that they were in the same bed again.
Brilliant dark golden eyes rested on her. ‘Five after seven. I slept the clock round. I feel amazing…’
‘I don’t remember coming to bed—’
‘You didn’t. You were sleeping in the chair. You shouldn’t worry so much about me, cara,’ Roel reproved. ‘I’m brilliant at looking after myself.’
The dark, husky timbre of his accented drawl shimmied down her taut spinal cord. Without responding to any conscious prompting, she found herself shifting even closer to him. It was like being possessed, she thought in panic at her own behaviour. There was to be no more intimacy, she reminded herself wretchedly, and in a sudden movement she made herself sit up.
Without hesitation, Roel tipped her right back again, lean, strong face intent, smouldering dark golden eyes full of unashamed sexual hunger. ‘You’re not going anywhere, Signora Sabatino.’
If anything his use of that form of address made Hilary’s conscience hurt even more. ‘But—’
‘You’re very restless this morning.’ Laughing, Roel slid a thigh between hers to anchor her in place beneath him. ‘But you’re not allowed out of bed until I say so.’
As she gazed up into his darkly handsome features her heart jumped and she felt weak with lust and longing. In the interim he brought his intoxicatingly sensual mouth down on hers. His hungry urgency sent her temperature rocketing.
Golden eyes bright with male appreciation, Roel bared her creamy rose-tipped breasts. Something pulled tight low in her pelvis and made her squirm up her hips. He cupped her swollen flesh, let knowing fingers play over her distended nipples and excited a low cry from her throat.
‘You want me, bella mia,’ Roel stated with satisfaction.
‘Yes…’ Hilary could not believe how fast it had become impossible to think, never mind fight what she was feeling. She craved his mouth and the erotic mastery of his touch. Her body was burning with impatience, eager and hot. That craving made it all the easier for her to suppress the little voice at the back of her mind that warned that she was doing wrong.
Eager for the hard demand of his mouth on her own, she rejoiced in his passion. She luxuriated in the right to shape his proud dark head, sink her fingers into the springy depths of his black hair and stroke her palms over the satin-smooth skin covering his muscular shoulders. She licked his skin there and thought he tasted sublime. Tingles of eager response shock-waved through her slender length and drove her to a fever pitch.
‘You make me so hungry for you,’ Roel growled and he flipped her over and into a position she didn’t expect before he plunged into her with one driving thrust.
The wave of wicked pleasure took her in a stormy tide that made her whimper in shock at the delight of such sensation. The damp, sensitive place at the heart of her had become a fiery furnace. Ecstasy had her in its hold and there was no room for pride or shame in her passionate response. When the rush of sweet pleasure became unbearable, she surged into a shattering release with an abandoned cry, her excitement only heightened by the shudders of climax racking him in concert.
Still engulfed in the after shocks of rapture and with her eyes misted with happy tears, Hilary tumbled back against the pillows and held Roel’s big powerful body close. He kissed her long and slow and deep and she struggled to catch her breath again.
She looked up at him, marvelling at his hard male beauty. A giant wave of love and appreciation was engulfing her. His slumberous dark golden eyes withstood her tender inspection and her fair skin warmed with self-conscious colour, but still she could not stop revelling in the very right to stare at him. High cheekbones slashed his bold dark features into proud planes and hollows. He was stunningly handsome even with dark stubble roughening his hard jaw line.
‘You take my breath away…’ she whispered shakily, laying her fingers against his wide, sensual mouth.
He caught her hand in his and then gazed down at her bare fingers with palpable surprise. ‘Where’s your wedding ring?’
Hilary froze in consternation. That a husband might reasonably expect his wife to be wearing a ring should have occurred to her, but it had not. ‘I…er…I didn’t want to wear one—’
Resting back against the pillows, Roel surveyed her with brooding intensity. ‘Why not?’
Beneath that grim scrutiny, Hilary went scarlet and stammered, ‘I—I just thought rings were a bit old-fashioned and didn’t see why I should bother.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Roel decreed without hesitation. ‘I married you and I expect you to wear a wedding ring.’
Feeling horrible that she was allowing herself to tell more lies to protect her own masquerade, Hilary could no longer meet his gaze. ‘I’ll think that over.’
‘No. You won’t think anything over. I’ll buy a wedding ring. You’ll wear it. End of discussion,’ Roel delivered with derisive force and sprang out of bed to pull on a pair of black silk boxer shorts.
Halfway across the room his long forceful stride came to a halt and he swung back to her. His lean dark face was
impassive, his brilliant eyes decidedly challenging. ‘You know, you never did tell me why my wife was still a virgin…?’
‘And I’m not going to when you speak to me in that tone,’ Hilary fielded, tautly defensive, sitting bolt upright in the vast bed, clutching the sheet round her as though it were her only sanctuary in the storm.
‘You’ll have to do better than that, cara mia,’ Roel drawled.
Her eyes flashed and she stormed back at him in Italian. ‘No, I don’t! When you get your memory back you’ll realise that there’s no big mystery on the score of my lack of experience—’