Shadow Warrior (Shadow Riders 4)

He moved then, kneeling between her legs on the thick woolen rug. His fingers curled around the nape of her neck and he kissed her so gently there were tears in her eyes when he lifted his head.

She loved him. Beyond anything, she loved him. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she knew how. He was so good to her, it was impossible not to love him. When he touched her as he was doing, his hands on her body, fingers caressing her skin, giving her comfort and yet letting her know she was not only loved, but desired as well, she couldn’t help but fall hard for him.

His arms slid around her waist and he laid his head in her lap, as if he was the one who needed solace, and she was coming to think he did. Her heart melted, and her fingers tangled in his hair. He was scaring her just a little bit. What could be so bad that he was reluctant to tell her? She stroked caresses through his hair and over his temple, waiting. She knew he would tell her eventually, so she stayed quiet, reveling in her ability to just touch him the way she was doing.

It took a few minutes and then he sat back and looked up at her. “I want you to remember that I love you. I not only love you, Grace, but I need you in my life. I know you don’t yet realize how much, or even comprehend it’s the truth, but I can assure you, I need you far more than you’ll ever need or want me. I want you to keep that in mind.”

She took a deep breath and let it out, suddenly worried. He was serious. He stood and went across the room, his body totally fit. Totally naked. He was confident in his body and had every reason to be. She could tell he’d all but forgotten he wasn’t wearing clothes. He didn’t need them—like she did—for armor.

Vittorio crossed to the small bar on the opposite side of the room from the fireplace. “Do you want a drink?”

He poured straight Scotch into a crystal glass. She noted he didn’t use ice. The amber liquid swirled in the glass when he put it to his lips. He shocked her a little when he drank the contents.

“Water would be good.” She didn’t think it would be a good idea for both of them to be drinking, at least not if Vittorio kept it up. Inside, she began to coil tighter and tighter, the tension making her wish she was wearing something other than her sex kitten lingerie.

He handed her a glass and went back to the bar. “What have you heard about my family?”

That was getting into very dangerous territory. Everyone knew of the Ferraro family. They seemed to live their lives out in the tabloids. Their exploits were legendary. Her tongue touched her upper lip and she rubbed her palms over her thighs. “There are rumors,” she conceded. “But your family is famous, Vittorio, and shrouded in mystery. People make up things because they either want to tear you down or live through you vicariously.”

“You’ve been around my family a few times.”

It was the first time she’d heard a hint of bitterness in his voice. He finished off the Scotch in the glass and poured himself more.

“You must have formed opinions regarding the rumors.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. Which of the ten thousand rumors are you referring to?” She didn’t want to have this conversation. Her heart already was accelerating. She wished she hadn’t agreed to come inside. There had been a cool breeze coming off the lake. She moistened her lips again. “Can you open the door?”

He sent her one all-encompassing look, his gaze dwelling on her bare breasts. “I don’t want you to get cold, Grace. It won’t do your shoulder any good.”

“I’ll keep that side to the fireplace,” she promised. “I like the breeze on my body.”

“I like it on your body, too.” He stepped around her chair to go to the glass wall. As he did, he reached out and stroked her left breast, fingers tugging her nipple as he slipped past her.

Grace felt the jolt of lightning all the way to her toes. A single touch from him was all it took, his fingers flicking her nipple. His eyes dropping below her waist to dwell on the tiny triangle of leather, split by the lacing so her fiery curls could be seen. Instantly, she went damp and needy.

He folded the thick glass of the pocket door back to allow the night into the room. She inhaled deeply, drawing the night into her lungs, hoping the air would clear her head enough to let her listen with an open mind to whatever he had to say.