A Scandal Made At Midnight

CHAPTER EIGHT

ALESSANDRO’SLIPSHOVEREDover hers for a moment in a silent question that Liane answered as she relaxed into him, revelling in the feeling of his hard, muscular body against hers. His lips brushed hers softly, once, twice, and then settled on them firmly, with deliberate, delicious intent. The fluttering sensation inside Liane’s middle exploded into fireworks through her whole body. Her mind reeled. Her nerves twanged. Her senses sprang to life as his arms came around her and her body melted into his.

It was a kiss like no other, although in truth she had precious few to compare it to. Still, it blew them all away, left her reeling and longing for more. One large, warm hand cupped her cheek, another spanned the dip of her waist, fingers sliding up under her T-shirt, warm and seeking on her skin, and still the kiss went on, until Liane felt she saw stars—or maybe she’d swallowed them. Every inch of her was alive, sparkling, incandescent.

She pulled him towards her, revelling in the feel of his powerful shoulders beneath her questing hands, his lips moving from hers to the pulse beating at her throat, her hands now lost in his hair, her mind reeling, reeling...

And then Alessandro, with something like a groan, stepped away, his absence reverberating emptily through every atom. As Liane did her best to straighten her clothes and blink the world back into focus, she saw the colour slashing his cheekbones, the way his eyes glittered. He’d been affected as much as she’d been, or almost. Of that she was sure. She might be naïve, but that kiss, at least, had not been motivated by pity, and the knowledge made her fiercely glad.

‘Well.’ His breath came out in a rush as he squared his shoulders. ‘At least we got that out of the way.’

What?For a few seconds Liane could only keep blinking as she fought an urge to laugh in incredulity. Out of the way? She felt as if Alessandro Rossi had very much got in the way. In her system, her blood, her brain. That kiss had affected her in every way possible; need was still thrumming through her insistently. And now he thought they could move on as if it, along with yesterday’s conversation, had cleared the air? Was he actually serious? Or was he just trying to convince himself that could happen, because he wanted it to?

She pressed her fingers to her stinging, swollen lips. ‘How do you reckon that?’ she managed shakily.

Alessandro glanced around the empty hallway and then gestured into the suite. ‘May I come in?’

‘Yes, of course.’

She watched, everything in her still pulsing with desire and life, as he stepped through the doorway and strode into the suite’s luxurious living space, with its velvet sofas and antique art. She closed the door after him and then followed him into the room, standing in the doorway as she watched him warily. He prowled through the space like something caged and restless, before he gave a brisk nod and turned to her, his mind clearly made up, a hard certainty sparking in his steely eyes.

‘I’m sorry if I seemed unreasonable. I know I’ve acted...out of character. But now that we’ve kissed, perhaps we could see it as breaking the tension. We can put this behind us and move on...’ He paused, his words turning weighted. ‘If that’s what you want.’

If that was what she wanted? Was it her choice, then? Liane gazed at him, nonplussed, wishing she felt more certain about what he wanted. The memory of that kiss would stay with her for ever, seared onto her memory, her body, her heart. And it had only been a kiss. How much more would she have been affected if that kiss had gone on and turned into something else? If he’d drawn her by the hand into the suite, into the bedroom, with that wide bed piled with silk pillows, and laid her down gently there, joining her, covering her body with his own...

‘You’re not interested in an affair, and I’m not interested in anything else,’ he stated flatly. ‘And, in any case, a few more days and you’ll be back in New York, and I need to return to Rome.’ He held her gaze, a hint of challenge in his eyes, his voice. ‘That’s all true, isn’t it, Liane?’

She hesitated, a dozen different scenarios unspooling in her mind. She longed to be the kind of woman who could sashay over to Alessandro right now, grab him by his rumpled bow tie and pull him towards her. That’s not quite true, she’d murmur against his lips, before she kissed him.

He’d take her to bed, and then they’d spend the next few days—or however long it lasted—enjoying each other in every way, ways she didn’t even know existed but could heatedly imagine...

And then what?

He’d walk away, just as he’d promised, when he decided. And she’d return to New York with a loved-up body and a broken heart, sick with regret, feeling sad and used, because she knew she would. She wouldn’t be able to help it.

‘Liane?’ Alessandro’s voice was low and insistent as he took a step towards her. Her heart clenched, turned over at the intensity of his expression, the planes and angles of his face seeming even harder than usual, more unyielding, more demanding. ‘That is all true, isn’t it?’

‘What are you saying? That if I wanted an affair, you’d have one?’ She forced the words out through lips that felt strangely numb. She could hardly believe she was asking the question. She was imagining the answer, her body tingling and flaring with desire, aching with the need to cross the small space between them and show him just what she wanted. Or why didn’t he make it easy for her and sweep her up in his arms, seduce her so she felt as if she had no choice?

But, no, he was giving her control, and she wasn’t sure she even wanted it.

‘I’d certainly find it hard to resist you.’ His voice was low, thrumming through her, thrilling her, and yet... ‘But that’s all it would be. A handful of days, and some very memorable nights. I can promise you that, but I can’t offer you more. Ever.’ He sounded resolute, the words a warning. Clearly he wanted to make sure she would know absolutely how little she was getting. And yet how much.

‘Yesterday,’ she couldn’t help but remind him, ‘you weren’t even offering me that.’ He inclined his head in acknowledgement, saying nothing. ‘What happened to me being a woman who was made for the fairy tale?’ she asked, her voice possessing a ragged, mocking edge. Had he ever truly meant it? Or had he simply not wanted to hurt her, by admitting he could never fall in love with someone like her? Maybe the problem wasn’t him, it was her, just as she’d always feared. She wasn’t noticeable enough; she wasn’t lovable.

It was a fear that was rooted in the depths of her, yet one she’d never truly wanted to face. If she was, her mother wouldn’t have been so disappointed in her. She’d have found someone by now, twenty-seven years old and no one had even spared her a look...and the one man who had the power to capture her heart didn’t want it. She swallowed hard.

Alessandro hesitated, his iron gaze burning into hers. ‘The truth is, I want you too much,’ he finally said, the words emerging with obvious reluctance. ‘If you were willing to take what I can offer, then yes, I would offer it. In a heartbeat. But I want to make sure you understand what I am offering.’

‘Yes, I understand that perfectly well,’ she assured him shakily. ‘You’ve made it very clear, trust me. A few days and then you’re gone. Message received loud and clear.’ She tried not to sound hurt, but she could tell that she did by the way his mouth hardened.

‘All right, then. You can decide.’ He held her gaze, the heat in it both thrilling her and scaring her. No one had ever looked at her that way, with such desire, such naked need. It made her feel strange—powerful and yet helpless at the same time.

‘Why me?’ she whispered.

‘Why not you? Why do you keep acting surprised that I might desire you?’

‘Because no one else has before.’ She tried for a laugh and didn’t quite manage it. ‘Because no one else has even noticed me before. Not when Ella is around, anyway, and not really ever. I’m...forgettable.’ It hurt to say the words.

‘You’re not forgettable to me,’ Alessandro assured her, his voice a low thrum. ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I first stepped on your toes.’

She shook her head in instinctive denial. ‘You don’t have to say that—’

‘Why don’t you believe me? It’s true.’ He took a step towards her. ‘You have this ridiculous insistence on believing that you’re not worthy of my attention or desire. Or anyone’s. That’s simply not true.’

Worthy of his attention and desire, Liane thought, but not worthy of his love. And while Alessandro would tell her that was because of who he was, she couldn’t help but think it had to have something to do with her. If she were different, better, she would be. Wouldn’t she?

Liane took a deep breath. ‘And if,’ she asked slowly, ‘I said I wanted what you were offering?’

His blazing gaze slid to the bedroom and then back to her, making her mouth tingle again in memory. Making her whole body tingle. ‘I think you know what would happen next.’

She stared at him for a long moment, so very tempted as well as impossibly torn—but not, she realised with a sinking sensation that was a cross between utter disappointment and weak-kneed relief, torn enough. She wasn’t that woman. She never had been. She couldn’t offer her body without risking her heart. She couldn’t agree to his terms, as much as she longed to.

Already she could imagine it—his fingers threaded through hers as he drew her gently to the bedroom. The heavy-lidded gaze he gave her as he slipped her T-shirt over her head before sliding his large, warm hands down her body, cupping her breasts, spanning her waist, slipping lower...