Coercion to Love (20 page)

His hand came up to stroke her hair on to the cool white pillow, dark eyes so tender on her that she wanted to weep. Then his mouth came gently on to hers, replaying that other gentle kiss which had first ignited this throb of feeling between them: passive, caring and seeming to invite their spirits to touch. She didn't try to pull away, she didn't even want to. And this, she acknowledged sadly, was her biggest weakness—her need for kisses like this...

He was smiling when he eventually lifted his head. 'Goodnight, Cassandra,' he murmured, and bent to touch his mouth to her own again before quietly going away.

Cass stared after him through dull eyes. She was going to have to steal away like a thief if she was ever to have a chance of getting away from him. Because Carlo Valenti only had to touch her and she was lost, her desire for him overriding everything else.

He paused by the door, turning back to smile at her in a way that made her senses flip, and she had to bite down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself from begging him to come back, join her here in this big lonely bed.

Just one night... she thought enticingly. Would it be too much to ask, just one beautiful spirit-touching night in his arms to take away with me when I do go?

The door closed behind him, and suddenly she was alone, the opportunity gone with him. Shivering, she turned on to her side, telling herself that it was for the best. Her leaving here as soon as she could get away was for the best. Best for everyone. Carlo, Terri and most importantly herself.

But she wished the future didn't yawn so wide and bleak in front of her without them. She wished she at least had a job to lose herself in.

A single tear trickled down her cheek and lay there untouched, to dry on its own, the heaviness of depression and the need to sleep dragging her downwards.

She wished she hadn't fallen in love with Carlo Valenti.

She wished her sister had never so much as set eyes on him.

She wished she didn't have to leave this place...

She dreamt she was drowning that night. Experiencing once again the horror of plunging down into the murky depths of a cold, dark sea.

Only this time she couldn't fight her way back to the surface again, and the air began to burn in her lungs while her body was cold, freezing cold, being dragged deeper and deeper despite the desperate thrashing of her arms and legs to halt the terrifying pull.

'No!' she screamed inside her head. 'I don't want..’

'Cassandra!'

Strong arms wrapped themselves around her, pulling her upwards. And she began sobbing with relief.

'Cassandra...' It was Carlo. Of course it was Carlo! He had come to save her again. 'Wake up; you are having a bad dream...'

She came battling back through the murky wash of sleep to find herself cradled against his warm chest.

'It was awful!' she whispered raggedly, the repercussions of the nightmare still shuddering through her. 'I couldn't stop sinking. And it was so cold!' She shivered, buried her face in the warmth of his throat, so glad he was there that she clutched at him.

'And no wonder!' he rasped, pushing the damp tendrils of hair away from her icy face. 'It's freezing in here!' She sensed him glancing around the bedroom, then a harsh sigh shook his chest. 'The terrace doors are still wide open. And the wind has changed direction and is blowing right into this room. It is no wonder you dreamt you were cold!'

And it was only then that Cass realised that not only was she shivering, but her teeth were actually chattering with the cold, her hands like ice where they clutched at him.

'Come on.' Giving her no chance to argue, Carlo stood up with her in his arms. "There is no way you can sleep in here tonight—Dio,' he muttered angrily, 'you could have developed a second dose of pneumonia in here, and it would have been all my fault! I forgot to close those damned doors!'

'You weren't to know the wind would turn around,' she defended him. 'Where did you come from?' She lifted her head to level questioning eyes on him. 'Was I shouting so loud that you could hear me all the way down the...?' Her voice trailed away, her eyes already noticing the spill of light coming from an open door across the room she hadn't previously noticed.

'This room joins with mine,' he explained. 'Your cries filtered through the connecting door. You can finish the night in my bed,' he informed her as he carried her into his bedroom. 'I shall find another bed to sleep in.' He placed her down among the rumpled covers, still deliriously warm and scented from his own body. 'Is there anything I can get you?' he enquired as he tried to disentangle himself from her clutching arms. 'A warm drink, or...?'

'Don't go,' she begged, holding tightly on to him.

He went still, gazing into her huge, luminous green eyes where the horrors of her bad dream still lurked.

'Please...' she whispered, knowing what she was tempting him with, and not caring. She needed him with her. Needed to feel the comforting strength of his arms around her. 'I don't w-want to be alone.'

'Caro,' he sighed, shaking his dark head, 'you are playing with fire, asking this of me.'

Small white teeth bit down on her full and trembling bottom lip, but her eyes still pleaded with him.

He gave a pained groan. 'If I come into that bed with you, Cassandra, I shall make love to you,' he warned, seeming to need to spell it out to her, as if his own conscience demanded it of him. 'For I cannot lie beside you and not do so; you do know that, don't you?'

'Yes,' she breathed, already beginning to feel the exquisite torment of her own desire snaking sensually through her.

She sensed his uncertainty, saw his dark eyes flicker, his mouth quiver, that square, sculptured jaw clench as he waged an uneven battle with himself. Her fingers stretched then curled into the warm skin at his nape, her breasts lifting and falling on a silken sigh. And he uttered a hoarse groan, and brought his mouth down hungrily on to her own.

Something had happened during her second battle with the sea. As though the dream had given her a fierce awareness of her own entity, and she needed this, him, to give her life some purpose.

Her life to date had been stuffed full of so many other things that she had never had time for men or lovers. Her ideas on making love were hazy at most. Mere technical details gleaned from what she'd read or heard. But suddenly she was desperate to find out for herself what it was like to give oneself entirely to another person, to join, on the physical as well as spiritual plane. Know the power of a man's possession.

And, as if he seemed to know all of this intuitively, Carlo did not simply throw off their clothes and overwhelm her with his body. In fact, he barely touched her at all unless it was where his hungry lips caressed. He leaned above her, her hands locked around his neck while he braced himself with his hands placed either side of her body, and began to kiss her, slowly, sensually, on her mouth, her eyes, her soft cheeks, then back to her mouth again, drawing her through a slow build-up of pleasure that had her pulses deepening at the sweet, sweet torment of feeling he was inciting inside her, until she could bear it no more, and urged him closer to her with the trembling pull of her hands.

He began to caress her then, using his fingers to follow the rounded shape of her slender body. His thumb probed the thrusting points of her nipples beneath the fine silk covering of her nightdress, and a fierce sting of pleasure shot through her, bringing her body arching up to meet the caress, and he pushed the silk aside to expose the fullness of her breasts so that his mouth could take the place of his thumbs.

Her nightdress slipped away by slow degrees, urged by the warm brush of his hands followed by the sensual lick of his tongue, until she was writhing beneath him, so alive to his touch that she became lost to it, eyes closed, the air whispering shallowly from her lungs, burning in the hot tide of deep, throbbing pleasure.

She barely noticed his own growing desire, the harsh rush of his breath or the tight clenching of his body as he continued to hold himself above her. And if she had opened her eyes she would probably have cried out in fear of the passionate intensity written on his face. But she heard the husky murmur of his voice, seducing her, making love to her with the luxurious words of his native tongue, urging her onwards without her actually realising it, encouraging, lifting her.

He came to lie beside her, naked and hot, his skin like finely stretched leather to her exploring lips, moist and tasting slightly of salt, and she sucked greedily at it, her fingers drawing through the thick mat of hair at his chest, loving the ripple of hard muscle, the broken gasps she could urge from him.

When he parted her thighs with the gentle pressure of his hand, she fell back against the bed, held breathless by the depth of sensation his touch drew from her.

'No,' she groaned, frightened and disturbed by this new wave of pure electric feeling.

'Easy, amore,' he murmured soothingly. 'Don't fight it. Let it flow...'

Let it flow... The words played over and over in her mind as her body quickened, the air leaving her in soft, soulful little sighs, and her limbs became leaden, filled with a hot, sweet, tingling liquid which held her in its exquisite thrall.

'Carlo,' she whispered breathlessly.

It was then that he came over her, sliding between her thighs, and slowly, with his body held taut in an effort to control his own needs, he thrust inside her. Explosions went off in her head, the moment's pain making her arch in groaning protest beneath him while his hands held her face still so that he could ravish her mouth with a kiss so intense that she could do no other than submit to him.

Then she felt herself relaxing, the pain swept away on a tidal wave of feeling which had her moving restlessly beneath him, her fingers sliding on the slick skin of his shoulders as he began to move, slowly at first, then deeper, and as she cried out his name in frantic delirium he began moving faster until they both went toppling over the edge into a world she had never visited before, nor wanted to leave again...

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cass came awake to a wonderful feeling of inner peace which had her body stretching languidly in the bed and a soft sigh of pleasure escaping her lips—before she remembered, and went perfectly still, not even breathing as her mind played back tormenting images of her own sensual wantonness of the night before.

What had she done? Her eyes flicked open, staring in horror at the ceiling above her head, terrified to move a single muscle in case she awoke the man beside her.

Only, she realised with a start, there was no man beside her!

Blinking, trying to make some sense out of the hectic muddle her brain was in, she sat up, pushing the tumbled fall of her hair away from her face to find herself in her own room, her own bed, with the gentle morning breeze disturbing the soft drapes around the open french windows.

Had she dreamt it all? Her cheeks began to burn, hot embarrassment curling its way through her, and*she placed a trembling hand over her heart in an effort to stop it thumping—only to gasp and glance down at where her hand lay over one smooth and very naked breast.

My God, she thought, not a dream! And even as she struggled to accept what she had actually allowed to happen last night, her flesh began to tingle in memory of his caresses, the muscles deep down inside her body curling in pleasurable acknowledgement of his passionate possession.

Please, God, she pleaded desperately, closing her eyes to send up her useless prayer, tell me I didn't throw myself at him last night!

The bedroom door-handle rattled, and she made a quick grab at the sheet to tug it over her guilty nakedness. Cheeks glowing red, her eyes dark green and haunted, she waited for him to enter the room, face her with what they had done.

Tern's little face peeped around the door, and she almost fainted with relief. 'Cass!' She bounced into the room. 'You're awake at last! I thought you were going to sleep all day!' The little girl ran to the bed and jumped on to it, reaching out with her arms to give Cass a hug and a good morning kiss, then she sat back on her heels to beam her a delighted smile. 'My daddy sayswe can stay here for ever and ever!' she announced, her face suffused with a too long suppressed excitement. 'He says you're going to get married, and I can be bridesmaid and wear a pretty frock, and...'

Cass shut her eyes, refusing to believe any of this was happening. She was still asleep, she decided. She had to be. She didn't have that awful nightmare last night. Carlo hadn't come and gathered her into his arms, taken her to his bed, laid her down, made beautiful love to her. And Teresa was not sitting here, beaming at her, telling her she and Carlo were-----

'I thought you were told not to awaken your aunt,' a voice scolded from the doorway.

Cass's eyes flew open; dark and defensive, they stared across the room to where Mrs Valenti stood, leaning heavily on her two sticks, smiling at the pair of them.

'I didn't,' the child protested, 'did I, Cass? She was already awake,' she insisted, when Cass made no reply. 'I was just telling her that I'm going to be a bridesmaid when she marries my daddy, and-----'

'Chattering her into exhaustion before she has even had her breakfast,' Teresa's grandmother inserted drily. 'How are you this morning, Cassandra?' Those warm brown eyes so like Carlo's and Teresa's turned on to Cass.

'I...' Her tongue cleaved itself to the roof of her mouth, and she had to swallow tensely to be able to speak at all.

'Teresa...' Mrs Valenti came slowly forwards '.. .go and tell Maria that your aunt is awake and ready for breakfast.'

'OK.' The child beamed at them both, reached over to give Cass another hug, then scrambled off the bed, only to pause and turn back, her big eyes shining with untethered happiness. 'Everything is going to be perfect now, isn't it, Cass?' she sighed out rapturously. 'We don't have to go back to Fulham. We don't have to go anywhere now my daddy is going to look after us!' Then she turned and skipped out of the room, thankfully not seeming to require any reply.