Craving Her Enemy's Touch

‘Breakfast? How long have I slept?’ She sat up, pulling the soft sheet modestly against her. He stood by the bed, dressed in jeans which hugged his strong thighs and a black T-shirt which highlighted the contours of his chest to perfection.

His gentle laugh knotted her insides and she dragged her gaze from him, to look at the clock which ticked beside the bed. ‘Long enough, cara, but then we didn’t sleep much last night.’

She turned quickly to look at him, heat infusing her cheeks as his words confirmed her memory was correct. Was it all over now—the one night of passion she’d willingly entered into? Was this now time to go back to her room, to return to the professional relationship they’d had initially? There was still more promotion scheduled for the car over the weekend and into the following week. How was she going to get through the weekend after what they’d shared last night?

‘Thank you.’ She was confused by the way she felt and the need to distance herself from him. Wanting to return to the businesslike dealings they’d had with one another until last night. ‘I’ll get dressed, then we can discuss what’s next on the promotion agenda.’

‘Oh, no, cara. There is only one thing on the agenda right now.’ A teasing smile lingered on his lips and the suggestive tone of his voice made her stomach flutter wildly. He still wanted her.

Her heart thumped as he strode back to stand beside the bed. Her mouth was as dry as a desert and she tried to moisten her lips but, from the smouldering look in his eyes, that was a mistake. ‘There is?’ The strangled whisper only just managed to squeeze out.

He leant on the bed, so close that her lips parted without her consent, waiting for his kiss. When it came it was soft and teasing and loaded with promise. She closed her eyes, slipping under his masterful spell far too easily. ‘I’m taking you somewhere we can be alone, somewhere we can explore what is between us.’

She pulled sharply back from him. ‘But the launch...the promotion? You’re supposed to be hosting a promotional afternoon at the test track.’ She’d already expressed a wish to be there and was torn between the idea of spending time alone with him and being with the car her brother had designed.

‘Someone else can handle that.’ He moved towards her again, stretching his body across the bed, making her want to reach out and touch him, feel his strength. ‘We have far more important things to do.’

‘But...’ She raised her hand, pressing it against his shoulder, stopping him coming any closer. The sheet she’d pulled against her slipped down, exposing her breasts, but she held her ground, keeping a firm expression on her face.

His eyes looked down at her, his appreciative gaze sending heat to the centre of her again, and her breath hitched audibly as if he’d caressed her. ‘Per Dio, but you are so hard to resist.’ His accent became heavy and she released his shoulder and clutched the sheet quickly against her once more, shyness rushing over her now that daylight flooded the room.

‘It was only meant to be one night, Sandro.’ Her voice was barely above a whisper and she felt emotionally exposed and vulnerable.

‘You need to stop running, Charlie, and face what scares you.’ His body, tall and overpowering, dominated the room but his expression was gentle. Did he understand her fears? Empathise with her?

She looked up at him, willing the carefree attitude she’d had last night to infuse her again. With alarming clarity she realised she was using not just Seb’s accident but her disastrous love life as a shield. Retreating behind it and potentially denying herself more pleasure than she could imagine.

‘I want to be at the test track.’ She injected a firmness she was far from feeling into her voice and, from the look on his face, he knew she was already running.

‘It is not necessary, not after last night.’ He stood back up, his height dominating the room. ‘We will spend the weekend at my villa. I intend to explore what you started last night, enjoy it. Do you not feel the same, cara?’

Should she lie? Tell him she didn’t want to be with him any more when the heat of her body and the pounding of her heartbeat told her she did? She slipped from the bed, dragging the sheet she clutched with her. ‘What about the car?’

‘The car will still be there on Monday.’ His voice was deep and the darkness of his eyes told her he wasn’t thinking about the car at all.

He was right. The car would still be there after the weekend, but the passion which still burned fiercely between them wouldn’t be. She didn’t want it to be anything more than a brief affair. This way, it would burn itself out, enabling her to concentrate on what she’d come to Italy for. The truth about Seb’s accident.