The Italian's Ruthless Seduction

And maybe the sun won’t come up tomorrow, Sergio, he thought with a rueful laugh.

He sighed a deep sigh and ordered himself to go to bed and go to sleep. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as good at obeying his orders as Bella. Sergio tossed and turned for ages, not dropping off till the sky was turning that peculiar shade of mauve that preceded the dawn. When he eventually regained consciousness, the balcony outside the master bedroom was bathed in sunshine.

The sun had come up, was his first thought.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE KITCHEN IN the villa was large and welcoming, with a flagstone floor, pine cupboards, marble benchtops and a central wooden table that could seat up to eight people. When Bella entered it shortly after noon Sergio was seated at the far end of the table, dressed in colourful board shorts and a white T-shirt. His eyes were down, his large hands cupped around a steaming mug of what she presumed was coffee. He still hadn’t shaved and he looked even sexier to Bella than he had yesterday. Maria was standing at the kitchen sink, humming away and staring through the window at the lake beyond.

Sergio’s head lifted at her arrival, his dark gaze sweeping over her from top to toe before returning to her face, a small smile curving that wicked mouth of his.

It was a struggle not to look embarrassed in any way. But she managed, Bella having determined before coming downstairs not to act like some simpering virgin whom Sergio had seduced against her will. When she’d first woken this morning, the memories of the day before had momentarily overwhelmed her. In a way, it all seemed surreal. Her unexpected lust for Sergio. His astonishing proposal that they have a friends with benefits fling. And then her even more astonishing boldness in bed.

Was that really her, going down on him so avidly, then sitting on top of him and riding him so wildly and wantonly?

Part of her had wanted to shrink from that person. Her mother had brought her up to believe that nice girls definitely didn’t do things like that.

Thinking about her mother’s hypocritical advice over the years had quickly banished any sense of shame over the night before, Bella accepting with a new sexual maturity that she’d enjoyed every incredibly exciting second. She’d especially enjoyed experiencing her first orgasms. Lord, but she’d never dreamt of such pleasure. Or such blissful satisfaction.

Bella wondered momentarily as she smiled at Sergio how he would react if she told him she’d never had an orgasm before last night?

Not that she would. He clearly believed she was an experienced woman of the world. To reveal that the opposite was the case might send him running a mile, something she certainly didn’t want. What Bella wanted more than anything was more of what she’d had last night. She actually found amusement in the realisation that her mother would die at the R-rated desires running through her darling daughter’s head.

‘Good morning,’ she said brightly as she pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table.

Maria immediately spun around from the sink.

‘At last! Someone is up who will eat breakfast!’ she exclaimed. ‘Sergio, he just want coffee. But not decent Italian coffee. He prefer that weak rubbish they drink in London. So what you want, Bella? A nice omelette, perhaps? But first a cup of espresso.’

Bella looked sheepish as she sat down. ‘Would you be offended if I had what Sergio’s having?’

Sergio laughed. ‘See, Maria? I am not the only one with a weak stomach this morning.’

‘Pah! You two. I know why you no want breakfast. Too much pizza and champagne last night.’

‘Too much something,’ Sergio muttered under his breath, then smiled at Bella, his eyes glittering with a knowing amusement.

Bella kept her cool on the outside, but her insides didn’t fare quite so well. Truly, the man was the devil in disguise. Who would have believed that the once-conservative Sergio would turn into such a Casanova?

Not that she really minded.

‘So how did you sleep?’ he asked her.

‘Very well,’ she replied without batting an eyelid. ‘And you?’

‘Like a log.’

‘Champagne always makes me drowsy,’ she said, determined to play the game as well as he did.

‘Then we’ll open another bottle tonight.’

‘I thought you were going to your neighbour’s place for dinner tonight,’ she reminded him.

‘So I am. But I shouldn’t get back too late.’