e breathed, stretching her limbs along his. 'But what about you?' she murmured shyly.
Luc propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her in astonishment.“Dio.” Don't you know? You are everything a man could want.' He kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a strand of pale hair from her damp brow. 'I knew it would be good between us, but I didn't realise it was possible to be that good. I have never felt that way before, never lost control, only with you, cara,' he husked, his breathing slowly returning to normal. 'But I hope to again.'
Her blue eyes glistened as her hand moved to stroke his now rough jaw. 'I never realised '
'What you were missing.' He chuckled softly.
Closing her eyes, Parisa marvelled at the languorous contentment that had invaded her body. She felt so fulfilled. It seemed so right, lying naked beneath Luc, her legs still entwined with his. So drowsy.
'No regrets, my love?' he demanded throatily.
She couldn't speak. Instead she moved her hands to his broad shoulders, down his sides to the firm buttocks, tracing the magnificent shape of him, so hard, and moist with their loving. Giving him his answer by touch...
His husky laugh echoed in the silence. 'What have I liberated?' he murmured, feathering kisses over her heavy eyelids.
'Hmm,' she sighed, as his lips found hers in the most exquisitely gentle kiss. She felt his great body stirring against her and parted her lips to tease him with her tongue.
'What you do to me,' Luc groaned against her mouth, his hands caressing once more over her breast.
Parisa had not thought anything could be better than the first time, but she was wrong. With the first fiery burst of passion spent, Luc made long, slow love to her, placing small kisses on every inch of her, shaping with his strong hands every curve and plane of her body. Lovingly he stroked and coaxed, leading her deeper into the world of sensory delight until she gave herself completely over to his mastery.
Time was suspended. His dark velvet voice murmured throaty Latin words she did not understand, while, like a connoisseur of fine wine, Luc savoured her every reaction, but withheld the consummation she was aching for. Until, finally, she cried out his name, her nails digging into his broad back, and he came into her again. Once more he swept her over the edge of ecstasy, and she was only dimly aware that Luc had followed her into the same convulsive climax.
Exhausted, she lay under him, still part of him, held by his hot, damp body. He moved and she had not the energy to ask why. Then he was lying by her side, pulling a soft wool rug over them.
'I should let you go, but I can't, not yet,' he groaned. 'My Parisa.' She looked at his handsome face, so close, not quite realising the enormity of what had happened and too tired to try. She smiled and nestled against him, and in seconds was asleep.
CHAPTER SIX
The ringing of a bell echoing in her head made Parisa blink and reluctantly open her eyes. It was light, and she was staring at the sky. For an instant she did not know where she was, then she felt the hard warmth of a male body as Luc stirred beside her.
'Sorry, Parisa,' he said softly, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his hand before sliding off the couch. 'I have to answer the telephone—it must be urgent. No one would dare disturb me otherwise.' He tucked the rug around her and, unconscious of his nudity, stood up and, scooping up his trousers from where they lay on the floor, he walked across to the desk and picked up the noisy instrument. 'Pronto.'
She felt bereft, alone on the wide sofa. His casual arrogant comment that no one would dare disturb him somehow made her aware of the ignominy of her position, and the dream she had lived for the past twenty- four hours began to waver. A wary light clouded her blue eyes as she watched him. With the telephone tucked under his black-bristled chin he deftly pulled on his trousers, while listening intently to whoever was on the other end of the line. He was a powerful, dynamic man; even half naked, his presence was awesome. She saw his jaw tighten, a deep frown marking his broad brow. She could not understand what he was saying, but it was obvious that as far as she was concerned he had switched off...
She slowly pulled herself up, leaning against the back of the sofa. She briefly closed her eyes, her face a fiery red as the full enormity of what she had done finally hit her. Keeping the blanket firmly around her, she searched feverishly for her clothes. She didn't bother with her stockings, but slipped her panties on and pulled the evening dress haphazardly over her head. She didn't dare look at Luc. She must have been drunk, mad, bewitched, or all three, she thought helplessly, zipping the side of her dress with a shaking hand.
'Spoil-sport.'
Her head shot up and she winced at the laughing mockery in Luc's dark eyes. Noting her reaction and her burning cheeks, his expression instantly sobered. He snapped out a few curt words, then dropped the telephone and crossed to Parisa. Sweeping her into his strong arms, he held her tight, against his chest.
'No, Parisa, whatever you are thinking it isn't true. Last night we shared something wonderful, and I will not have you ashamed.' He lifted her chin and saw the uncertainty in her huge blue eyes.
'I wanted to make this morning special, Parisa, but unfortunately there is an emergency at the factory in Naples. Apparently there was a fire last night and three men were hurt; I have to leave. But first I have to kiss you.' And, lowering his dark head, he kissed her long and hard. Only when he felt her willing response did he break the kiss and, holding her slightly away, he added masterfully, 'No regrets; I won't allow it.'
A rueful smile pulled at her love-swollen lips. Luc could read her mind so easily that it was scary. 'No, no regrets,' she assured him, and she knew it was true. Whatever happened in the future, Luc had made her a woman in the most wonderful way possible, with care, tenderness and passion, and she could not imagine ever feeling for another man, responding to another man the way she did to Luc. She tried to tell herself it was too quick, it could not be love, but in her heart she knew she loved him...
Stunned at what she had discovered, she looked up into his handsome face. Now was not the time to tell him she loved him. She wasn't sure there would ever be a time. But still she smiled—a wide, truly beatific smile, all her new-found love reflected in her brilliant sapphire eyes, clear for him to see.
'Parisa, don't look at me like that,' he groaned. 'I have to leave in half an hour, but you must stay here till I return. We have to talk.'
'When will you be back?' she asked softly.
'A day or two at most.'
She stiffened in his arms. 'But I have to get home. There is Moya...' she said, almost to herself. 'The photographs!' she exclaimed. How could she have forgotten her real reason for being here? Her lover was a blackmailer, perhaps worse! And the light dimmed in her lovely eyes. There was no way she could wait around in Italy for Luc, and her better judgment told her she should complete her task and leave.
'I haven't time to explain so I will let you win this once. I'll get the photographs and arrange for your flight home today, but remember you're mine and wait for my telephone call tonight. Give me your telephone number,' he demanded swiftly.