It Started With A Proposition: Blackmailed into the Italian's Bed / Contract with Consequences / The Passion Price. Miranda Lee. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Miranda Lee
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
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had expressed the hope that one night with him would cure her of her need.

      As Gino carried her into the bedroom he vowed to make sure that it did not.

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      JORDAN shivered when Gino lowered her onto the cool satin quilt, goosebumps breaking out all over her body.

      ‘I’ll go run us that bath now,’ he said, as he slipped off her shoes and then wrapped the quilt tightly around her.

      ‘Don’t go to sleep,’ he added, giving her a soft peck on her forehead before heading for the bathroom.

      Jordan stared after him, her slightly fuzzy mind at a loss to understand his sudden change of attitude. Where had the ruthless lover of a few moments ago gone? Was his tenderness for real? Or just a ploy to seduce her into further compliance?

      ‘Won’t be too long,’ he said jauntily as he walked back through the bedroom, returning with the ice bucket and two champagne glasses. A second trip out to the sitting room had him collecting the two plates of delicacies.

      ‘Can’t have you passing out from thirst and hunger, can I?’ he remarked with a wicked smile as he headed back to the bathroom.

      Any fuzziness in Jordan’s head immediately cleared. Not true tenderness. A seductive ploy.

      How silly of her to start hoping for anything different.

      ‘All done!’ he announced, on his third return to the bedroom. ‘Just one more thing needed, my love. You.’

      Jordan did her best not to swoon when he threw back the quilt, then scooped her up from the bed. But having her naked flesh held tight against Gino’s was not conducive to calm.

      The bathroom looked both romantic and decadent at the same time, what with the candles, the champagne and the spa filled to the brim with fragrant-smelling bubbles.

      ‘You’d better put your hair up,’ he suggested. ‘Or it’ll get wet.’

      Jordan reached up to wrap her hair on top of her head in a knot, her eyes never leaving his.

      ‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

      She blinked, then gasped when he went to step into the spa bath, still carrying her.

      ‘Oh, do be careful.’

      ‘I won’t drop you,’ he told her confidently. ‘Don’t worry.’

      The water under the bubbles was deliciously warm, and Jordan sighed with relief when Gino finally sat down, angling her round so that she was sitting on his thighs, her back leaning against his.

      ‘Comfy like that?’ he asked.

      Jordan swallowed. ‘Are you?’

      He laughed. ‘I have a feeling I won’t be soon. But I’ll worry about that later. This is just like the old days, isn’t it? We had plenty of baths together then.’

      ‘I…I don’t want to talk about the old days, Gino.’

      ‘Fine. Here…have a sip of champagne,’ he said, picking up one of the full glasses and holding it to her lips.

      Jordan was about to blindly open her lips when a wave of rebellion struck. ‘I’d rather have my own glass, thank you.’

      ‘Okay. Take this one.’

      He gave it to her, but didn’t get the other glass for himself. Instead, he picked up the sea sponge which was lying on the bath’s edge and rubbed it across her stomach.

      When he moved it up to her breasts she gasped, spilling some champagne as she jerked away from Gino’s chest.

      ‘Relax,’ he said, and used the sponge to press her back into her leaning position. ‘You’ll like it. I promise. Just lie back, sip your champagne, and keep your arms out of my way.’

      It seemed silly to tell him to stop. Because of course she did like it—especially when the sponge grazed over her rock-hard nipples. Her pleasure was a double-edged sword, however, as her sexual tension increased with each passing moment. Soon every muscle she owned was twisted into a tight knot. She tried sipping more of the champagne, but nothing relaxed her for long.

      ‘Tell me about that case you won,’ Gino said.

      Jordan turned her head and flicked startled eyes up at him.

      ‘You…you can’t be serious,’ she choked out.

      ‘Why not?’ he returned.

      ‘Because I can’t think, let alone talk when you’re doing that.’

      ‘Yes, you can. Try it,’ he said, moving the sponge down over her stomach again, then lower…

      ‘Oh!’ she cried as her hips bucked upwards.

      ‘God, woman,’ Gino growled.

      When she felt his flesh suddenly slide up into her Jordan froze, gripping the champagne glass for dear life.

      ‘Just relax now,’ he advised again, as he eased her back down into a sitting position. ‘Lie back and don’t move. I want to hear about that case you won first.’

      ‘How can I? I…I can’t think.’

      ‘You can, and you will.’

      Jordan could not believe she was doing this. She was desperate to move, but he kept her still with his hands splayed across her stomach.

      ‘What compensation did you get her in the end?’ he asked, after she’d related the whole story to him.

      ‘Three million.’

      ‘A tidy sum.’

      ‘Sharni still wasn’t a happy woman. Because it wasn’t about money, really. It was about justice. Money doesn’t make people happy.’

      ‘But it can help.’

      ‘I suppose so.’ She so wished he would stop talking.

      ‘You wouldn’t marry a poor man.’

      Jordan sighed. ‘I would have married you ten years ago, when I thought you were poor.’

      ‘That was when you were young and naïve. When you were a romantic.’

      ‘You think I’m not a romantic any more?’

      ‘How can you be when you’re going to marry Stedley? You don’t love him, and I know it.’

      Jordan didn’t like the way this conversation was going. She could cope if they just stuck to sex.

      ‘Could we have a change of subject, please?’ she asked tautly. ‘I didn’t come here to talk about Chad. Whether I love him or not is immaterial. Chad loves me, and he wants to marry me—which is more than I can say for you. All you want is to have sex with me. And kinky sex at that.’

      ‘You call this kinky?’

      ‘Yes. And so was that episode against the window. You’ve always been kinky, Gino. Making me go without panties and…and doing it to me anywhere and everywhere.’

      ‘You loved it all.’

      Oh, why had she brought those things up? Just thinking about them turned her on even more.

      Impossible to stay still. Impossible to be patient any longer.

      ‘You’re moving,’ he chided, taking a firm grip of her hips and forcing her to be still.

      ‘I want to move. I’m going to move. There! See? I’m moving. And you can’t stop me.’

      

      Stop her? He