Already. The word was a promise she couldn’t dislodge from her brain.
Ella’s body came alive, just as it had last night. She’d told herself that had been an illusion created by tiredness and stress. But she didn’t feel tired now. She felt wired, waves of energy ripping through her, awakening every nerve ending.
She jutted her jaw. ‘You don’t have to marry me to get sex.’
‘Why, Ella—’ his eyes gleamed with a banked heat and his mouth curved in a slow smile that turned her insides to mush ‘—that’s quite an offer. I’m charmed and delighted.’
For one insane moment she almost smiled back, till her brain processed his words.
‘I’m offering nothing.’ Her head snapped back, her pulse thrumming at the look in his eyes. ‘I’m just stating the obvious. Even if you wanted to go to bed with me, marriage isn’t necessary.’ Unfortunately her explanation came out in an unsteady rush as he leaned closer.
‘Such a tempting idea,’ he murmured. ‘I’m glad you suggested it.’
‘Stop it, Donato. You know I’m not suggesting anything.’ But now she couldn’t banish the idea of them, together.
‘You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?’ His voice dropped an octave to a warm rumble she felt deep inside. ‘I am too, Ella. I find the idea intoxicating.’
He lifted his hand to cup her cheek and sensation juddered through her. Ella shot back a step, her breath snagging. Instead of releasing her, Donato followed, his broad callused palm hot on her skin.
She felt crowded, surrounded.
Excited.
Silence thickened. The saw of her breathing seemed loud, as did the quickened patter of her pulse. But it was the sensations detonating through her body that panicked Ella.
Donato had sabotaged all her erogenous zones, attuning them to his touch. Her lips tingled as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her nipples budded against the sensible bra she wore, as if mocking her determination not to dress up for Donato. Her silky top stirred as she hauled in deeper breaths, the touch of fabric a barely there caress. And between her legs...
Ella swallowed hard, drowning in the slumberous heat of those searing eyes.
‘Let me go, Donato.’ Her voice was as shaky as she felt. Not with fear, but because her body came alive so instantly, so completely, at his touch.
With every atom of her being she was aware of his big frame mere inches from her own. It was as if he projected a force-field that sent shock waves across her skin and deeper, heating her core.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve waited too long.’ His palm slid down her cheek to caress her jaw then thrust back into her hair. Ella’s neck arched and she bit down a sigh at the luxurious feel of his fingers against her scalp. Tiny little shivers coursed down her back and shoulders.
‘Rubbish.’ Her voice was far too soft. She cleared her throat and tried to summon the energy to move away. Her knees had grown wobbly. ‘We haven’t known each other a day.’
Remarkable to think it was less than twenty-four hours since they met.
Donato bent his head even closer and Ella’s breath hitched. He held her captive with that remarkable dark blue gaze. ‘It’s still been too long. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.’ The words were pure seduction, low and tantalising.
Ella told herself it was just a line he tossed out, but even then she couldn’t dredge up the power to move. Stunned, she teetered on the brink of losing herself. She swallowed, her mouth drying at what she read in his stare.
‘Don’t take me for a fool, Donato.’ Despite her indignation her tongue slowed on his name, savouring it. She looked up into that austere, scarred, compelling face and wished, for once in her life, that she really was the beauty in the family. The sort to turn even this man’s head. ‘You came to the party expecting my sister, not me.’
‘And how pleased I was that she couldn’t make it.’ The words were a caress.
‘No!’ She jerked back, finally breaking from his hold. ‘Don’t pretend you were bowled over by my looks or my glittering personality. It won’t work.’ Ella had learned long ago, growing up in her sister’s shadow, that she wasn’t the sort to turn male heads. Pain twisted, razor-sharp, in her chest.
‘You don’t believe me, sweet Ella?’
Damn the man. Even that easy endearment sent her heart tumbling. Was she really that needy? So ready to be seduced by a show of attention?
Yet even as she lashed up indignation she knew she was fooling herself. Despite her protests that sense of connection between them was as real as it was inexplicable. It had slammed through her the moment she’d turned to find Donato’s eyes on her at the party. It had sung in her veins as she’d sparred with him under her father’s horrified gaze. It had turned her on as she lay naked in bed, wishing he was there with her instead of taunting her with that sultry deep voice over the phone.