A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir

“A deliciously sensual bath.” He smiled. “One you’ll want to linger in.”

“That would be lovely—if you’re sure you don’t mind?”

She was already sighing in anticipation. She had had a stressful day, he thought. Considering she’d woken up that morning a single mother, a cook working in a Swiss chalet, and now was in Italy, Vin’s fiancée, the proven mother of his child, with a ten-carat diamond on her finger. She’d met his family and was about to share his bed. That was a lot of change for anyone. And more was soon to come.

He smiled down at her. “It will be my pleasure.”

And it would be.

Going into the luxurious en suite bathroom, Vin turned on the water, then looked around quickly. How to make it even more romantic? Pulling fresh roses from a nearby crystal vase, he crumpled rose petals into the warm running water. But he wanted more. Digging through the bathroom cabinet, he found expensively perfumed bubble bath and triumphantly discovered four candles and a box of matches in the bottom drawer.

“Can I come in?” she called.

“Not yet.” He carefully placed the candles around the white marble bathroom with its elegant silver fixtures. He checked the water temperature—not too hot—and added a few more rose petals over the bubbles for good measure. He lit the candles, then turned out the lights. “Now.”

Scarlett came into the bathroom, then stopped, her mouth agape. She looked at him, her own beautiful face suddenly nervous. As well she should be, he thought smugly.

“For you, cara,” he said innocently. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He did leave the bathroom. He was that much of a gentleman. In the bedroom closet, he found his clothes unpacked in a drawer and pulled off his formal white shirt and tailored black trousers, exchanging them for just one article of clothing that would be easy to take off—low-slung sweatpants. When he heard the water slosh in the bathtub, heard her sigh as she descended into the warm, fragrant water, he gave a single knock on the bathroom door and pushed it open.

The white bubbles covered Scarlett’s naked body modestly in the flickering candlelight. Only the tops of her breasts and a small bit of belly protruded as she looked back at him in surprise.

Her long red hair was piled high in a topknot, but tendrils of hair fell down her neck. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her full lips red and parted.

Vin had braced himself for seeing her naked, but the image still hit him low in the gut. Very low. It wasn’t like he could hide his desire, either, in the low-slung sweatpants. His chest was bare, showing his shape from hours burning off energy and rage in the boxing gym and martial arts dojo. His hard flat belly was dusted with dark hair, like an arrow pointing down to the center of his desire.

So be it. Let her look.

Let his intentions be clear.

“What are you—” Her voice came out a croak. She swallowed, then looking up at his face, she said in a steadier voice, “What do you want?”

“I told you.” He came closer, giving her a sensual, heavy-lidded smile. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You made me this bath.”

“I can do even better,” he said silkily. “If you’ll let me.”

For a moment, she seemed to hold her breath.

“What did you have in mind?”

Vin sat behind her, on the tiled edge of the enormous marble tub.

He knew he could reach down, turn her face to his and claim her lips. Claim all of her. But he forced himself to take it slow. To seduce her, bit by bit.

“Let me show you,” he said softly.

With agonizing slowness, he lowered his hands to her naked shoulders peeking out above the bubbles. Amid the flickering shadows, he sucked in his breath at the sensual shock of feeling her warm, slippery skin beneath his fingers, and knowing that she was naked beneath the rose petals and bubbles, there for his pleasure, just waiting for him to claim her.

Closing his eyes so he wouldn’t be tempted by the soft sway of the water visibly caressing her round breasts, he began to rub her shoulders. His massage was light at first, then gradually he increased the pressure.

Scarlett exhaled, as though the stress of months or years was melting beneath his touch. Using his fingertips, his thumbs, he rubbed the knots away from her shoulders and neck. She closed her eyes, her rosy face the picture of pleasure as she leaned against his hands, like a cat meeting his stroke.