He thrust into her without warning and she cried out at the sweetness of his invasion, the possession that she was already hooked on.
‘Starting now.’
‘Starting a couple of hours ago,’ she corrected breathily.
He grinned. ‘Yes.’
He made love to her as though she was his only lover—as though he’d been dreaming of her for years. As though he needed her and only her. He made love to her with an intensity that blew her mind and filled her with the kind of sensual heat she hadn’t believed could possibly exist.
She refused to acknowledge the truth: that she was one of many lovers for him and he was her only.
Afterwards, as she lay with her head resting on his chest, listening to the strong, fast beating of his heart and feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, all was silent in the bedroom.
Except for the rather loud and insistent rumble of her stomach.
She burst out laughing, self-conscious but mostly amused. ‘Apparently I’m starving.’ She sat up straight, turning her face towards his. ‘I hardly ate today,’ she said after a moment, thinking back to her shopping trip and then the time she’d spent styling her hair and applying make-up.
‘Why not?’
He stroked a hand over her back as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and his touch stirred a deep sense of rightness right down in the bottom of her soul.
She chewed on her lower lip. ‘Just busy, I guess. I don’t suppose there’s anything here though...?’
‘If so then someone’s going to find themselves out of a job tomorrow.’
‘Why?’ she asked, looking around the darkened room. Only a few candles remained alight, flickering lazily against the white walls.
‘Because I retain a full-time housekeeper to maintain this estate.’
‘Estate? What is this place?’
His hand stilled on her back and then resumed its contact, as though he couldn’t bear not to touch her. ‘It is what you would call a bolthole,’ he said after a small pause. ‘My own little slice of the world.’
‘Why would you need a bolthole, Mr Morelli? Is it for when your hordes of admirers and past lovers get too much?’
It was meant to tease him, but his face flashed with true annoyance. ‘There is significant media intrusion in my life—something you might have noted if you’d been with me more.’ He winced at the way that had sounded and shook his head. ‘Sorry. I’m sure you’re no stranger to that sort of invasion.’
‘No,’ she agreed, and she wasn’t offended or upset—only interested. ‘Though staying on the plantation as often as I did meant I wasn’t really a figure of much interest,’ she said quietly, conveniently glossing over the articles that had been so painful to her teenaged heart. The articles that had so callously compared her boring appearance to her mother’s legendary beauty.
‘You’re lucky,’ he said, taking her statement at face value. ‘For years I was followed everywhere I went, with paparazzi eager to catch a photograph of the kind of mess I’d get into next.’
His wink hid genuine pain; she wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did.
‘Including your escapade with that very much married Brazilian model?’
He grunted. ‘Apparently.’
She expelled a soft breath—a sigh that meant nothing. It simply escaped her lips without her knowledge.
‘I didn’t know she was married,’ he surprised her by saying gruffly. ‘We didn’t have that kind of relationship.’
She nodded thoughtfully. ‘What kind of relationship did you have?’
He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and then pushed out of the bed, striding across the room and grabbing a pair of shorts.
‘You don’t want to talk about it?’ she asked as he pulled them up his body, leaving them low on his hips.
‘I’m happy to talk about it if you would like. But let’s get you something to eat as we speak, hmm? I don’t want your energy fading.’
She hid her smile and stood, keeping a sheet wrapped around her as she moved.
His laugh was mocking. ‘Why are you covering yourself?’
She sent him a droll look. ‘Because I’m naked.’
‘And you are worried I might see you?’ He crossed the room, dislodging the sheet from beneath her arms, dropping his head to kiss her shoulder. ‘Really? After what we’ve shared?’
Her cheeks flushed pink and something inside Pietro twisted painfully. So her innocence wasn’t just a question of virginity. It was simply her. She had a sweetness, a naivety that was so unusual he doubted he’d ever seen anything like it.