They had returned to their villa, undressing one another eagerly and speedily, sharing the shower in the luxuriously equipped bathroom. Emily’s physical response to him had been everything Marco had hoped it would be and more. She had held nothing back, matching him touch for touch and in intimacy until he had started to penetrate her. It had caught him off guard to have her tensing as he thrust fully into her, believing she was as eager to feel the driving surge of his body within hers as he was to feel her hot, wet flesh tightening around him.
At first he had assumed she was playing some kind of coy game with him, mistakenly thinking that it would excite him if she assumed a mock-innocent hesitancy. His frustration had made him less perceptive than he might otherwise have been, and more impatient, so he had ignored the warning her body had been giving him and had thrust strongly again. This time it had taken the small muffled sound that had escaped past her rigid throat muscles to make him realise the truth: she was still a virgin.
His first reaction had been one of savage anger, fuelled by the toxic mingling of male frustration and the blow to his own pride that was caused by the fact that he hadn’t guessed the truth. Sex with an inexperienced virgin—and the potential burden of responsibility that carried, both physical and emotional—was something he just had not wanted.
‘What the hell is this?’ he swore. ‘Okay, I know about your marriage, but I would have thought that…if only because of that…’
‘That what? That I’d jump on the first man I could find?’ Emily retaliated sharply. But beneath that sharpness he caught the quiver of uncertainty in her voice, and his anger softened into something that caught at his throat, startling him with its intensity.
‘Well, it did cross my mind,’ she told him. ‘But in the end I was too much of a moral coward to go through with it. Blame my grandfather, if you wish, but the thought of having sex with a man I didn’t truly want, just to get rid of my virginity, has made it harder rather than easier for me to find a man I did want enough.’
Marco shrugged dismissively, not wanting to have to deal with his own unfamiliar feelings, never mind hers!
‘If you’re expecting me to be pleased about this, then let me tell you—’
‘You don’t need to tell me anything, Marco,’ she had stopped him determinedly. ‘It’s rather obvious what you feel.’
‘I don’t know what you’re thinking, or hoping for,’ he told her, ignoring her comment, ‘but, despite what you may want to believe, the majority of sexually mature men do not fantasise about initiating a virgin! I certainly don’t. The reason I brought you here was so that we could indulge our need for one another as two people starting from the same baseline. For me, that means we share matching physical desires for one another and awareness of our own sexual wants and expectations.’
‘I’m sorry if you feel that I’ve let you bring me here under false pretences,’ Emily told him, admitting, ‘Maybe I should have said something to warn you?’
‘Maybe?’
The scorn in his voice made her flinch visibly. ‘I didn’t want to play the I’m-still-a-virgin card for the reasons you’ve just mentioned yourself,’ she defended. ‘I didn’t want it to be an issue and, besides, I wasn’t even sure that you’d notice.’
Marco remembered how she had coloured up hotly when he had looked at her in disbelief.
‘I really am sorry,’ she told him apologetically.
‘You’re sorry? I’m so damn frustrated…’ he began.
‘Me, too,’ Emily interrupted him with such candour that he felt his earlier irritation evaporating.
‘Frustrated, but virginal and apprehensive?’ he felt bound to point out.
‘Yes, but not one of those has to remain a permanent state, does it?’ she responded.
‘You trust me to deal effectively with all three?’
‘I trust you to make it possible for us to deal with all three,’ she corrected him softly. ‘I’m a woman who believes that participation in a shared event makes for mutual enjoyment, even if right now in this particular venture I am the junior partner.’
He wasn’t used to being teased, or to sharing laughter in an intimate relationship and, as he quickly discovered, shared laughter had its own aphrodisiacal qualities.
He made love to her with a slow intimacy which, he was the first to admit, had its own reward when in the end she showed him such a passionate response. It was she who urged him to move faster and deeper, until he was as lost in the pleasure they were sharing as she was. But not so lost that he couldn’t witness the shocked look of delight widening her eyes as her orgasm gripped her…
What the hell was he doing, thinking about that now? It was over; they were over; or rather they soon would be.
Someone was knocking gently on his office door. Marco frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone and he had expressly told his PA not to disturb him. He was still frowning when the door opened and Emily stepped through, smiling at him. It wasn’t often that Marco was caught off guard by anything or anyone, but on this occasion.
‘My meeting finished early,’ he could hear Emily saying breezily, ‘So I thought I’d come over and see if you were free for lunch?’
When he didn’t answer her she closed the office door and came towards him, dropping her voice to a playfully soft tone as she told him, ‘Or maybe we could forget the going-out and the lunch. Remember, Marco, how we used to. What’s wrong?’ she asked him uncertainly.
Her smile disappeared and Marco recognised that he had left it several seconds too late to respond appropriately to her arrival.
Normally, the fact that his timing was at fault would have been his main concern. But, for some reason, he found that, not only was he acutely aware that he had hurt and upset Emily, he was also suppressing an immediate desire to go to her and apologise. Apologise? Him? Marco was astounded by his own uncharacteristic impulse. He never apologised to anyone, for anything.
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he told her flatly, knowing that something was very wrong indeed for him to have felt like that. It couldn’t be that he was feeling guilty, could it? a traitorous, critical inner voice suddenly challenged, pointing out: After all, you’ve lied to her and you’re about to leave her…
She knew the ground rules, Marco answered it inwardly. That his own conscience should turn on him like this increased his irritation and, man-like, he focused that irritation on Emily, rather than deal with its real cause.
‘Yes, there is,’ Emily persisted. ‘You were looking at me as though I’m the last person you want to see.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I just wasn’t expecting to see you.’ He flicked back the sleeve of his suit—handmade, it fitted him in such a way that its subtle outlining of his superb physique was a whispered suggestion caught only by those who understood. ‘Look, I can’t do lunch, I’ve got an important call coming through any time now, and after than I’ve got an appointment.’ That wasn’t entirely true, but there was no way he wanted Emily to suggest she wait around for him whilst he spoke with his grandfather. For one thing, he had no idea just how long the call would last and, for another… For another, he wasn’t ready yet to tell Emily what she had to be told.
Because he wasn’t ready yet to deny himself the pleasure of making love to her, his inner tormentor piped up, adding mockingly, Are you sure that you will ever be ready? He dismissed that unwanted thought immediately but its existence increased his ire. ‘Mrs Lawson should have told you that I’d said I didn’t want to be disturbed,’ he informed Emily curtly.
She heard the impatience in his voice and wished she hadn’t bothered coming. Marco’s arrogance made him forget sometimes how easily he could hurt her, and she certainly had too much pride to stay here and let him see that pain.
‘Mrs