AVA PACED THE length of the guest room, unable to calm her frenzied pulse or her mind’s racing.
First Cesare pushed her away, then he wanted her to fall into his arms. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to quell her body’s clamouring for what she’d stubbornly denied it. But her pulse wouldn’t quieten. The thought that she’d come within a hair’s breadth of making love to Cesare again after so long sent her pacing faster. She should be thankful she’d resisted him.
Yeah, right.
Truth was, she wanted to jump her husband so badly, she could barely think straight. The heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of his hard-packed muscles rose in her mind like the promise of a delectable feast after an endless famine.
Would that be so wrong?
She felt herself sway towards the door and dug her toes hard into the luxurious carpet. What was she thinking? Sure, he’d been shocked when she walked away from him. But he hadn’t followed. And he’s not exactly breaking down your door, is he?
While she was in here torturing herself, he was probably enjoying the view, nightcap in hand, or halfway to securing another multi-million euro deal.
Whirling, she stalked to the window.
The stunning vista of night time Rome lay before her. Cesare’s penthouse apartment sat atop a converted luxury villa off Campo de Fiori and commanded views as far as the Vatican and St Peter’s Dome.
Was he staring at the same view? Raising a hand to the window, she watched her skin heat the cool glass. The view outside faded when she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection.
Wild, fiery hair, tangled into shameless disarray by Cesare’s seeking hands. Her eyes were wide pools of confusion and hurt she wanted to hide away from and her lips were swollen and bruised with Cesare’s kisses. She wasn’t surprised to see her chest rise and fall as if she’d run a marathon.
And all because of the man whose presence impacted her life and emotions as effortlessly as if she were a puppet on his string.
Her breath rushed out, frosted the glass, distorting her view as she remembered... In the fevered chaos of the kiss and the argument that had followed, they’d never got round to talking about the solution to their problems.
She eyed the door, then almost in a trance, her hand went to the button securing her dress at her nape. With one short fumble, it pooled at her feet. She contemplated taking a shower, but feared her resolve would desert her if she delayed for too long.
Padding to the dresser, she picked up her hairbrush. The rhythmic strokes reinforced her strength, which in turn abated the haunted look in her eyes. She hadn’t needed a bra with her dress, but she still wore her thong. The thought of going to Cesare naked heated up her blood, but she quickly abandoned the idea.
Crossing to the wardrobe, she selected a short forest-green silk night slip and matching gown of hers she’d found when she’d unpacked earlier. Shrugging them on, she tied the gown and quickly left the room before she lost her nerve.
The hallway was as quiet as when she’d walked down it a short while ago. The dimmed light in the living room revealed it as empty as the kitchen and terrace.
The idea of confronting Cesare in his bedroom sent a confidence-shaking shiver of alarm through her. Slowly, she walked towards his door and paused outside. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she listened for sound within. What if he was asleep?
Or, worse, he’d reverted to the cool, distant man she’d grown to hate this past year? Fear of rejection dried her mouth but she didn’t back down. Inhaling deeply, she turned the knob.
He was lounging against the king-size bed’s intricately designed headboard, a glass of cognac in one hand and an electronic tablet in the other.
His gaze snapped and locked on hers. Slowly he placed the glass on the nightstand.
Ava’s eyes landed on his bare chest and hot air seared her lungs. She’d seen his naked torso many times but the sheer magnitude of his potent masculinity never ceased to raise her temperature.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure, cara?’
Her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips. ‘Our talk...I want to have it...now.’
He turned away from her, shielding his expression from her as he laid the tablet down. ‘Are you sure that’s what you come for? To talk?’ His eyes narrowed and he linked his hands together over his hard, ridged stomach. Despite his stance, he reminded her of a hunt-mode predator, ready to pounce with merciless precision.
Her fingers clenched on the doorknob. ‘Yes.’
He nodded, grabbed the corner of the sheet and drew it back. ‘Then, by all means, make yourself comfortable and let’s...talk.’
She didn’t need to look to know he was naked. Cesare slept in the nude. ‘Are you...are you going to put any clothes on?’
‘No.’
‘Cesare...’
‘I don’t know what that would achieve. I told you what happens to me when you enter my presence. Clothed or in flagrante, the effect is the same.’
Desire punched a hole in her belly. Dangerous, treacherous desire. She needed to leave, only she couldn’t move. ‘But...’
He sighed. ‘I don’t want to have this talk with you all the way across the room, Ava. Come here, it’s much more comfortable, I promise,’ he murmured silkily.
She shook her head and pulled the door open, her bravado deserting her. ‘You know what? Maybe this wasn’t a great idea. It’s way past midnight and...I can’t deal with you this way. We...we both need to get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morn—’
Quicker than she’d ever imagined it possible for him to move, he sprang off the bed, shot across the room and slammed his hand against the door. Her gasp was strangled in her throat as he pressed his hot, bristling naked length against her back.
‘Oh no, Ava mia. You do not get to flounce off for a second time,’ he breathed hotly in her ear.
‘I don’t flounce!’
‘No. You sway. You mesmerise. You capture and hold my attention until I feel like I’m drowning in your seductive beauty.’
‘I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about...’
‘Oh sì, you do. Or you wouldn’t be here now. I’ll give you what you want, tesoro mio. We will have that talk. But there’s a very high possibility that you’ll hate me when we do.’
She gasped and turned within the circle of his arms. ‘Why would I hate you? You said there’d been no one else!’ A sickening feeling invaded her at the thought that he’d lied about that.
His eyes burned into hers. ‘I meant it.’
Relief poured through her. ‘Then what else could there possibly be? Unless you’re about to confess you’re some psycho serial killer?’
Her comment didn’t lighten the mood as she’d expected. Instead his jaw tightened, then released. ‘I did have homicidal thoughts about Mario tonight. In fact, I had unholy thoughts about every man at the party who dared to look at you.’
‘I’m surprised you had a chance to notice, seeing how you were so enamoured of Giuliana’s bosom.’
He shifted even closer until his granite-hard arousal pressed against her pelvis. He gave a low, deep laugh. ‘It seems we’ve both been clawed by the sharp talons of the green-eyed monster.’
Pain stabbed through her desire. ‘Jealousy would imply that we care for each other, Cesare.’
His smile slowly faded, replaced by a growing hunger as his gaze slowly raked her face as if imprinting it on his brain. ‘Sì, it would. I never