The Sicilian's Innocent Mistress

Her whole body sang in response to his. To his hard chest against the softness of her breasts, his hard arousal pressed against the liquid fire of her thighs as her legs became entangled with his.

‘No, Darci!’ Luc breathed raggedly as he abruptly broke the kiss.

She looked up at him uncertainly. ‘No…?’

He gave her a smile. ‘This may be out of character—out of my character to date,’ he added knowingly. ‘Old-fashioned, even. But, the truth is, Darci, I do not want to pre-empt our wedding night—your wedding night. You’re everything to me, Darci. Everything! And I want everything to be perfect for you. Including our wedding,’ he told her firmly as she would have protested. ‘Although…’ He frowned slightly as he released her, before moving determinedly to the edge of the bed to stand up.

Darci looked up at him, still slightly dazed by the intensity of her response to him. A response she was sure she would always have to this gorgeously sexy man she loved beyond reason, beyond doubt.

‘Luc…?’ she said, as he walked around the bed to stand beside her.

He smiled at her—a bright, dazzling, loving smile. ‘Putting your happiness above everything else starts right now, Darci,’ he promised her as he dropped down onto one knee and took one of her hands in his much larger ones. ‘Will you marry me, Darci? Will you be my love for the rest of our lives? Will you be my wife, Darci?’

‘Oh, yes, Luc. Yes, yes, yes!’ she assured him tearfully.

‘This time I do not in the least mind your answer being in triplicate!’ he told her fiercely, and he moved to gather her up in his arms and kissed her until she was once again soft and wanton in his arms.

‘As long as we don’t have triplets,’ Darci murmured ruefully. Although the thought of that, of having Luc’s children, really wasn’t in the least daunting.

‘No doubt my mother would not complain—’

‘Your mother, Luc!’ Darci remembered, suddenly stricken. ‘What on earth must she think of me after seeing us together like that earlier?’

‘My mother is in absolutely no doubt as to what I think of you, my love,’ Luc assured huskily. ‘I told her before I came upstairs that I love you, and that if you would have me, I intended making you my wife,’ he explained, at Darci’s questioning look. ‘I am sure that even now she is downstairs—probably with the rest of my family, too!—making wedding plans,’ he said.

‘You really told her that about me?’ Darci breathed dazedly.

‘Oh, yes,’ he affirmed.

Darci swallowed hard. ‘What did she say?’

He smiled. ‘That I am her youngest beloved son.’ His voice deepened with emotion. ‘It’s strange, Darci. As a child I only felt excluded from my parents’ love—maybe because I am that youngest son. But tonight I have realised that my mother’s love for me is unreserved—that she wants only my happiness.’

Darci’s arms tightened about him. ‘I’m glad, Luc. So very glad,’ she told him shakily.

‘In any case,’ he continued briskly, ‘my mother approves of you, and she is greatly looking forward to welcoming you into our family,’ he announced with some of the arrogance Darci had noted tonight in all the Gambrelli men.

The Gambrelli men.

Cesare, Wolf and Luc.

And she was going to marry, to be the wife, the lifetime love, of the last—the very best!—of them….

Luc’s arms tightened about her. ‘When will you marry me, Darci?’

She glowed up at him. ‘Well, as you’ve put this embargo on our lovemaking, perhaps it had better be soon, hmm? Very soon,’ she added with feeling.

Luc gave a slow smile, a smile completely without reserve, and his eyes glowed with the deep love he felt for her. ‘The fact that I would like your wedding night to be exactly that does not mean that we have to completely deny ourselves…’ he pointed out.

‘No?’ Darci looked up at him with tempting green eyes.

‘Most definitely no,’ he assured her, as his lips trailed fire down the sensitive column of her throat, igniting desire.

‘Oh, good…’ she declared, before giving herself up to the wonder, the sheer delight, of being loved by Luc.