The Ultimate Playboy

When his hand moved under the T-shirt and skimmed over her panties, Ruby jerked at the vicious punch of desire that threatened to flatten her.

She was drowning. And she didn’t want to be rescued.

‘Dio mio, you’re addictive, bedda,’ he murmured against her mouth before plunging back in. His tongue shot between her lips to slide against hers. He staked his claim on her until she couldn’t think straight. Even when his mouth left hers to nibble along her jaw, she strained closer, her hand sliding up his chest in a bold caress that shocked and thrilled her at the same time.

When her nail grazed his nipple, he hissed. Stunned at the surge of power that action gave her, she flicked her nail again.

‘Careful, amante, or I might have to repay the kindness.’

Lost in a swirl of desire, she barely heeded the warning. Bringing up her other hand between them, she flicked both flat nipples at once.

‘Maledizione!’ He pushed her back onto the bed and yanked up her T-shirt.

Danger shrieked in her head a second before his mouth closed over her nipple. Tonguing, licking, he pulled the willing flesh deep into his mouth.

Sensation as she’d never felt before tore through her. Between her legs where her need burned fiercest, liquid heat fuelled her raging desire.

Her fingers curled up and spiked into his hair as he transferred his attention to her other nipple. A little rougher than before, he used his teeth this time.

Her tiny scream echoed through the bedroom as her head slammed back against the pillow.

Feeling his thick arousal against her thigh, she moved her leg, eager to rub closer against the potent evidence of his need.

The snap of the ankle rope broke through her haze. The reality of what she was doing hit Ruby with the force of a two-by-four.

‘No!’ She pushed at his shoulders until he lifted his head. The sight of her nipples, reddened and wet from his ministrations, made dismay slither through her in equal measures. She was nothing like her parents. Nothing—

‘What’s wrong, bedda?’ he grated huskily.

‘What’s wrong? Everything!’

‘Everything is a huge undertaking. Narrow it down for me a little. I’ll take care of it.’

She pushed harder. ‘For a start. Get. Off. Me.’

His nostrils flared with displeasure and his fingers bit into her hip. ‘You were moaning your willingness a moment ago.’

‘Thankfully, I’ve come to my senses. Get off me and take off that...shackle you’ve placed on my ankle.’

He slowly levered himself off her but not before she got another sensation of his thick arousal. Flames rushed up her cheeks.

Back in his previous position, he dropped his gaze from hers to her breasts. Realising she was still exposed, she yanked her bra cups into place and tugged down the T-shirt. A T-shirt that bore his unique scent, which chose that moment to wash over her again. As if she weren’t suffering enough.

‘I don’t like women who blow hot and cold, tesoro.’

‘Where I come from a woman still has the right to say no.’

‘A stance I fully respect. Except your actions and your words are at direct variance with each other. You crave me almost as much as I crave you. I can only conclude that this is a ploy to string me along until I’m too whipped to put up much protest against your demands.’

Again his description of her behaviour struck painfully close to the bone, pushing all her fears to the fore. Struggling to hide it, she raised an eyebrow.

‘Wow, you really have a low opinion of yourself, don’t you? Or is that a high opinion on my sexual prowess?’

‘Unlike you, I’m not afraid to admit my desire for you. It’s almost enough to tempt me to tell you to name your price so we can be done with this...aperitivo and get to the main course.’ There was a hard bite to his voice that instinctively warned her to do that would be a mistake.

‘I only want you to hear me out. You said we’d talk this morning.’

He got up from the bed in a sleek, graceful move that brought to mind a jungle creature.

The unmistakable evidence of his arousal when he faced her made her swallow. He showed no embarrassment in his blatant display of manhood. Even in thwarted desire, Narciso Valentino wore his male confidence with envy-inducing ease. Whereas she remained cowering beneath the sheets, afraid of the sensual waves threatening to drown her.

‘And so we will. Come through to the kitchen. Caffeine is a poor substitute for sex but it’ll have to do.’ With that pithy pronouncement, he walked out of the bedroom.

She lay there, floundering in a sea of panic and confusion. If anyone had told her she’d be in Narciso Valentino’s bed mere hours after meeting him, she’d have laughed herself hoarse. Particularly since she’d vowed never to mix business with pleasure after what had happened with Simon.