His eyes darkened before his lashes swept down to veil his expression. ‘I’m very good at adapting, amante.’ He stood up abruptly and pulled her up. ‘Time for a shower.’
She waited until they were both naked in the bedroom before she spoke.
‘All that with Giacomo. I’m sorry it happened to you.’
His nostrils flared as bleakness washed over his face. Then slowly, he reasserted control.
Intense silver eyes travelled over her, lingering on her bare breasts with fierce hunger that made her nipples pucker. ‘Don’t be. Our feud brought me to Macau. Macau brought you to me. I call that a win-win situation, amante.’
He lunged up and grabbed her. Swinging her up in his arms, he crossed the suite and entered the adjoining bathroom.
‘Wait, we haven’t finished talking.’
‘Sì, we have. I’ve revealed more of my past to you than to any other living soul. If I’m The Warlock you should be renamed The Sorceress.’
Demanding hands reached for her, propelled her backwards into the warm shower he’d turned on.
‘But I don’t know you nearly enough.’
He yanked the shower head from its cradle and aimed the nozzle in the curve of her neck. Water set to the perfect temperature soothed her and she allowed her mind to slide free of the questions that raced through her thoughts.
Understanding the boy he’d been, caught in the hell of a father who hated the very sight of him, Ruby found it wasn’t a stretch to understand why he’d closed himself off.
But she’d seen beneath the façade, knew the playboy persona was just a defence mechanism. His relationship with Giacomo meant more to him than he was willing to admit.
As if reading her thoughts, he sent her a narrow-eyed glare. ‘Don’t try and understand me, Ruby. You may not like what you discover.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
His eyes met hers and she glimpsed the dark river of anguish. ‘It means there may never be enough underneath the surface to be worth your time.’
‘Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?’
He stepped forward and aimed the shower right between her thighs. Ruby gasped as sensation weakened her knees. She reached out for something to steady her and got a handful of warm, vibrant flesh. He angled the showerhead and she let out a strangled moan.
‘No. This conversation is over, amante,’ he growled. ‘Now, open wider for me.’
Despite his clipped words of warning and the blatantly sexual way he chose to end their conversation, Narciso proceeded to wash her with an almost worshipful gentleness that undid her. When he sank down in front of her and washed between her legs, tears prickled her eyes.
Hell, she was losing her mind. Right from the beginning, she’d primed herself to hate this skilled playboy for his shallow feelings and careless attitude towards women and sex.
Instead she’d discovered that beneath the glossy veneer lurked a wounded soul, hurting from a tortured past.
She wanted to touch him the way he’d touched her. She reached out, but he grasped her hand in his, surged upright and set the showerhead back in its cradle. Beside the expensive gels and lotions a stack of condoms rested. Her heart lurched as she saw him reach for one and tear it open.
Grasping her waist, he whirled her around, then meshed his fingers through hers before raising them to rest above her head.
‘This is the only conversation I want to continue. Are you ready?’ he rasped low in her ear.
His thickness pressed against her bottom. Recalling the pleasure she’d experienced before, she could no more stop herself from answering in the affirmative than she could stop herself from breathing.
He slid slowly into her, leaving her ample time to adjust to his size. Pleasure shot through her, imprisoning her in its merciless talons.
Her groan mingled with his as steam rose around and engulfed them in a cocoon of rough kisses and wet bodies.
Narciso let pleasure wash over him, erasing, if only temporarily, the cutting pain of the past rehashed. The raw agony of recollection eased as he surged deeper into her and, even though he refused to acknowledge that her touch, her warmth and soft words eased his pain, he hung on to the feel of being in her arms.
She rewarded him by crying out as her muscles tightened around him.
Dio mio, she was unbelievable! And she’d got under his skin with minimum effort. But he’d get his control back.
He had to.
Because this unravelling, as much as it soothed the deep wound in his heart, couldn’t continue. For now, though, he intended to lose his mind in the most spectacular way. He slid his hands down her sides, glorying in her supple wet skin. Encircling her tiny waist, he threw his head back and let desire roar through his body.