Cinderella In The Sicilian's World

Of course she did, but she couldn’t allow such things to bother her. Her position here was nothing to be ashamed of. She wasn’t Salvatore’s lover. Not any more. That part of their relationship was over. He’d told her very clearly that it was never intended to be anything other than a one-night stand and she told herself she was happy with that decision. She was simply hitching a ride from a man who could help her, and one day she would pay him back in full.

But nerves got the better of her as she fastened her seat belt and she turned to the man beside her, trying not to focus on the long legs which were stretched out in front of him, or the quiet strength which was radiating from his powerful body. ‘Do you think we’re going to crash?’ she asked as he pulled a computer from a soft leather briefcase and the plane’s engines roared into life.

He frowned. ‘You really think I wouldn’t make a point of using the safest planes flown by the best pilots in the business?’

‘Then why did the stewardess spend so much time pointing out the emergency exits and showing me how to put on my life jacket?’

He gave a flicker of a smile. ‘It’s a legal requirement on all flights, Lina. And I hope you’re not going to come out with that type of inane comment for the entire journey. Transatlantic travel can be tedious at the best of times, but that would really stretch my patience.’

‘I’m sure it would and I’ll try my best to keep my inane comments to myself. It’s just that I’ve never been in a plane before. I told you that.’

Salvatore stared unseeingly at the blur of figures on the screen in front of him, because that was easier than looking into her dark and smoky eyes. Yes, she had told him. She had told him lots of things but it seemed his hearing had been selective and he’d only registered the things he’d wanted to hear. His fingers hovered over his laptop; for once he was failing to be absorbed by the graphs which dominated the bright square in front of him. Lust had triumphed over reason and, as a consequence, he now found himself in a situation not of his choosing.

‘Just read something to pass the time, will you?’ he growled. ‘Ask one of the crew to bring you some magazines.’

Expelling an impatient breath, he turned his attention back to his computer, because his plan had been to work, just as he always did when he was travelling. He never rea

lly stopped working. In interviews, he was often asked why he kept going when his fortune was already so vast, and, although he sometimes brushed the question aside, deep down he knew why. It wasn’t just the adrenaline buzz you got while chasing down a tough new deal, or the flush of success when you pulled it off, sometimes against all the odds. It wasn’t even the irrational dread which lingered on from his childhood—his determination never to know hunger again.

He narrowed his eyes. No. The reason was far more elemental than that. At least you knew where you were with hard cold dollars and cents. They didn’t betray you, or hurt you, or lie to you. It was only people who did that. And it was the people closest to you who could tell the biggest lies of all.

An image of painted red lips and nails the colour of blood swam into his mind, accompanied by the memory of a low, taunting laugh. And Salvatore gave silent thanks for being the man he was today. A man who was psychologically self-contained and immune to the wiles of women. He sighed. If only desire could be controlled as tightly as his emotions. His gaze flickered across to Lina, transfixed by the way her raven curls tumbled down over the swell of her breasts.

Had he thought he could compartmentalise their explosive night of passion and put it firmly in the past, because to do anything else would be an act little short of insanity? Against his better judgement, he had agreed to provide her with a temporary place to stay, and keeping his distance from her was essential if he wanted to drive home the message that he was unavailable. But maybe he had misjudged her appeal or maybe he’d underestimated how powerful it felt to have his sexuality so keenly awoken after what now seemed like a long time. Because suddenly his work was forgotten. Suddenly Lina Vitale was the sole focus of his attention.

In her simple dress she looked as fresh as a blossom which had tumbled from a tree—despite the fact she’d had very little rest last night. He could personally vouch for that. Sleep had eluded them both as they had lain with their limbs tangled and, as dawn had washed the bed with warm shades of rose and gold, he had been aware of the olive sheen of her skin, only a couple of shades lighter than his own. There had seemed something indefinably erotic about that. She was the first Sicilian lover he’d ever had—probably with good reason. But reason was the last thing on his mind right now.

He felt his throat thicken as she lifted her head and her lips parted, reminding him of the way she had softly clamped them around his erection in the preceding hours. He wondered if his breath had quickened. Was that why her nipples had started to show through the cheap cotton of her dress?

With an effort, he flicked his gaze back to the screen, but no matter how many emails he tried to compose, the words just kept blurring, because all he could think about was the throb of desire which was hot and heavy at his groin. When she crossed one ankle over the other like that, it seemed like the most erotic action he’d ever witnessed. He couldn’t stop thinking about his fingers travelling up her leg to linger on the cool satin of her thighs, or how good it had felt to make that first, tight thrust inside her molten heat. He had taken her over and over again and each time it had felt just as sweet as the first time. Hell, she had been so sweet. So openly blown away each time he’d made her come, which had been a lot. She had rained kisses all over his lips over and over again, as if she was thanking him. Were all virgins so touchingly grateful?

He didn’t want to think about it.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

His mouth grew dry as the tension between them mounted. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from within the confines of a cabin which had never felt this small before. He was having difficulty breathing and started wondering if the captain had adjusted the pressure. He swallowed.

‘So how are the first-time-flyer nerves?’ he said, the conversational tone of his question belying the erratic thunder of his heart. ‘Feeling a little less anxious now?’

Lina swallowed as she rested her hand on the magazine—the glossy page feeling sticky beneath her hot palm. Less anxious? Was he kidding? She might have had fears about flying, but they had been replaced by a concern about her reaction to him, and the way she couldn’t seem to do a thing about it. Did he realise he was making her breasts ache just by looking at her, or that her panties had become embarrassingly damp?

But she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him like that. The brief sexual side of their relationship was a thing of the past—from now on he was nothing other than her reluctant mentor.

With an effort she dragged her mind back to his question and attempted an equally polite answer. ‘A bit better, thanks. I think I’m getting used to it. It’s certainly a very smooth flight and the clouds outside the window are beautiful.’

The hard glitter of his blue eyes seemed to mock her. ‘Are you hungry?’

She shook her head. Was she going mad? Why did she feel as if they were having one conversation, with a whole completely different conversation going on underneath? ‘No. Not really.’

‘Tired, perhaps? This kind of journey is always draining. There are a couple of bedrooms at the back of the cabin and perhaps you should try to get some rest. The one on the right is quieter. Try that.’

‘Good idea,’ she said, unclipping her seat belt and rising to her feet. She told herself that sleep was essential. More importantly, it would get her away from Salvatore and the disturbing impact he was having on her senses. He probably wanted to get rid of her. For all she knew, he might be desperate to contact some woman in San Francisco and start arranging to see her the moment he arrived back. And if that were the case then she was going to have to deal with it. He’d made her no promises, had he? He’d offered her no future. And she’d been okay with that. She needed to be okay with that. He was already being generous in providing her with a flight and a home.

If she started wanting anything more, she was risking heartbreak. And she couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable like that—not when she was starting a new life in a new country.

A ridiculous feeling of self-consciousness rippled over her as she picked up her handbag and made her way towards the back of the cabin, wondering if he was watching her. And the crazy thing was that she wanted him to watch her—to run that appreciative blue gaze over her in a way which could make her hungry body quiver with longing. But he said nothing more as she left the cabin and Lina quickly went into the bathroom, where she stood for ages holding her wrists beneath a gushing tap. But no amount of cold water was able to bring down her body temperature and eventually she washed her face, brushed out her hair and decided to try and get some rest as Salvatore had suggested. Hopelessly distracted by a head full of erotic images, she walked noiselessly along the softly carpeted corridor and pushed open the bedroom door, her heart missing a beat as she walked in.

Because there was Salvatore.