Hiring Cupid (5 page)

He let out a deep groan and pulled her onto his lap. His very aroused state was obvious through his jeans.

Marco Valente was definitely not calm, but then, Carly couldn't admit to any vestige of calm either.

"Believe me, Carly. You are woman enough for any man."

Carly wanted to believe him. “Most men want model types."

"You mean stick insects with no curves and nothing to hold onto. No,
cara
, a man wants to hold his woman, to touch her, feel her."

Oh, heaven. Why did he say those things? Her insides were melting.

"And when he makes love to her, he wishes to imprint his claim on her. You have the curves of the goddess Aphrodite."

Carly chuckled at the comparison. “Aphrodite. I'm not sure that's a compliment."

"Why not?"

"Aphrodite may have been the goddess of love, but it's said her meddling caused misery among the armies during the Trojan War. She was meant to be all sweetness and love, but her adventures triggered bloodshed. I'd hate to cause such havoc."

"Women always cause havoc,
cara
. They are temptation incarnate."

Carly's breath hung in her throat. She knew she played with fire, but couldn't resist. “Is that how you see me?” she challenged.

You'll get burned.

Although knowing it was true, Carly still felt helpless to resist. She couldn't pull away now, and instead watched the play of expressions on Marco's face. He was a fusion of mystery and sensuality. One minute somber and serious, the next he laughed and teased, causing her body to lurch into a heated spin of aching need.

When he spoke, his voice was a soft whisper, firing her heated senses even more.

Blast it. She should have left well alone.

"I see a woman whose friends thought she needed time out. Time to unwind and play. Friends who loved her enough to trick her."

"Yeah, the joke was on me,” Carly grimaced.

"No, not a joke
cara mia
.” Marco's fingers twined through her hair and the soft pad of his thumb grazed over the skin behind her ear. The hairs on her neck rose and her senses skittered into high alert.

"Your friends care. Isn't this all we ask in life? That we have people around us that care."

Marco's gentle words of wisdom set Carly off and she could no longer stem the tide of tears. He eased her back and looked into her tear-laden eyes, a frown etched across his brow and his gaze narrowed as he wiped them away.

"You cry because...?"

"Because someone cared,” she whispered. And it was wonderful. But that small truth she kept to herself.

Suddenly Marco stood and she slid down the length of him, thigh-to-thigh, hip to hip, his solid chest grazing against her already sensitive nipples, making the tender buds ache for more. She placed her hand in his and a tingling heat scorched her fingertips. Carly gasped. This was liquid sex at a single touch—while fully clothed. She couldn't move. Didn't want to, and when Marco's intense gaze traveled from her face, lingering on the gentle rise and fall of her breasts, she swayed toward him, back arching. His searching gaze took a possessive hold on her she couldn't break. Aware of the captive thread of desire between them, a rapid heat skittered its way up her neck, scorching her cheeks in a flood of color.

"That pink tinge again,” he teased, pulling her to him.

Carly tried to smile, but failed. Pink, it felt like a raging inferno. Her whole body was on fire.

Heaven, she sighed.

"What say we use these four days for you to play hooky?"

"Play hooky?"

"Yeah, you know, like playing hooky from school. Your friends want you to have a break."

"But they're not here."

"I am."

Carly's breath froze in her throat. He sure as heck was. The hardness of him against her own sensitive and vitally alive length left her in no doubt. She should have hesitated, even a smidgen, but didn't.

"Okay.” Her voice came out as a hoarse croak and she tried to breathe, only nothing seemed to be working. All she could focus on was his muscle hard body, the touch of his skin against hers and the alluring scent of his cologne. Then his breath fanned the oh-so-very sensitive carnal zone of her neck and a thread of shivery need nearly sent her over the edge.

She tried so very hard to keep calm. “What do you suggest?"

"How about you relax."

"And you?"

"I'll play genie from the bottle. Your every wish will be my command."

Carly gulped, suddenly frightened to actually think what those wishes might be. She forced herself to breathe. “Every wish?"

"Every, single one. Starting with this.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Just one touch and her brain turned to mush, leaving her with only feelings ... and a desperate need that he kiss her forever.

She wasn't disappointed. Oh, no. Not at all.

"Is this one of your wishes?” he whispered as he trailed butterfly-soft kisses across her eyes.

"Mm.” Oh yeah. It really was. Her brain may have stalled, but her senses were very much alive. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, seeking her lips once more. Carly knew she had lost. She wanted,
and
needed his touch.

Silently she urged him for more as her hands splayed across the broad expanse of his back. Beneath the thin fabric of his T-shirt she felt his corded muscles ripple, reveling in the moment as she trailed one hand through his hair.

He needed no other invitation. His lips trailed a path across her jaw and down the nape of her neck to rest between her breasts. He inhaled deeply, murmuring in Italian. Carly had no idea what he said, but it sounded exciting and sinful, and her body automatically arched into the curve of his.

"You are woman enough for any man. For me.” Marco's husky sex-induced voice reached her ears and Carly stilled.

What was she doing? “This is madness. Crazy."

"
Si
, you are driving me crazy with desire."

She jerked back and shoved forcibly against his chest. Her hands were shaking, her body weak with need. She had to escape him before her traitorous body gave in.

"I must be out of my mind."

"With desire."

Carly chose to ignore that statement. She had to for her sanity's sake. “Wishes you said—my every wish."

Marco's eyes narrowed and the once dark sapphire lightened to a chilling and suspicious ice blue. It sent a shiver shimmying down her spine. She took another step back and crossed her arms over her chest as if barring access to her body, and soul. Lifting her chin she looked at him with as much poise she could marshal, which heaven help her was practically nil. Then she spoke. “I
wish
you'd stop."

Marco laughed with surprising ease. Then he smiled, a broad white grin, which reminded Carly of a lion on the prowl and set her already razor edged nerves on high alert, teetering on a precipice.

It was nearly her undoing. She wanted to give in, to take what he offered, but forced herself to hold back. She wasn't going to repeat family history. Her sisters had jumped in the deep end—and look where it had led them. No, she wouldn't do it. She steeled herself against the tantalizing maleness of Marco Valente, and waited.

"Your wish is my command,” he finally drawled before bowing low, though his mocking gaze never once left her face. “Your body was on fire for me, Carly Mason. Remember that."

Remember! Heavens, how could she forget? His touch, his heat, and the feel of his rock hard body had been seared into every single inch of her consciousness.

Carly let out a wavering groan. She had to get away. Fast. Spinning on her heels and kicking sand up in her wake, she did the only thing a gal who was in way over her head could do—she fled.

But where do you flee on a deserted island? How could she hide from the sexiest man on earth, and more to the point, how was she going to hide from her own desires?

Carly's mind buzzed with unanswered questions as she paced the sandy path in front of the cabin hours later. Talk about a dumb move. And she'd walked, no fallen, right into it.

Yeah, but what a kiss!

"Shut up."

She didn't need to be reminded. The whole melt in your mouth, erotic sensation had been branded in full Technicolor detail into her mind, and on her lips. Mechanically, she traced her swollen lips and her eyelids fluttered closed. But she couldn't blank out the memories, or the feel and taste of his lips on hers, his hands on her body—or her reaction. That searing heat had permeated her soul, setting her on fire for the first time in her life.

Why now? Why him?

Her eyes snapped open. This had to stop. Right now. She wasn't going to go down that track. Not on your life. No way.

Snatching up her laptop, she stabbed at the on button and the machine whirred into life. She began typing. “Work is important,” she muttered aloud as if it would obliterate every other thought.

Some hope! Perhaps if she said it enough, she'd eventually believe it. Determined, Carly battened down the hatches and set to work.

"Don't you ever learn?” The moment Marco's sharp retort tore into her fluttering concentration, the pile of papers she'd been working on scattered to the sand along with her dismal struggle to forget he existed.

She turned around sharply and the laptop wobbled. She made a grab for it, but not before Marco reacted and their fingers linked, resting on the computer screen. Carly's eyes locked with his, drugged into immobility.

"You said you'd relax,” he chastised, taking the computer from her and placing it with care on the wooden table.

"I'm doing some work, but I am relaxing. See, I'm sitting,” she tried to defend herself.

He gave her a withering gaze. “Since when did working, even with a lap top at the beach, become relaxing?"

"You don't understand. I've so much to do. There's a contract I've a chance at. It would mean..."

"Yes, it would mean what? That you make more money, that you are a success."

Carly prickled with annoyance at the derision she heard in his voice. “What's so wrong with that?"

"Money is not the road to happiness."

"How the heck would you know? Unless you were born with a rich daddy."

But Marco said nothing and Carly gave a satisfied snort. “Don't you tell me what is or isn't important. You weren't the one who had to miss most of school to look after a mother who couldn't cope."

"No I wasn't."

"Work is for me. It's mine alone. I've done the babysitting, caring for my siblings, working two jobs so we had food in the house when my mother couldn't manage. What's the saying,” she snapped, “been there, done that. Yep, that's me. Done it all. But now, work and my success, which let me tell you, I've worked damned hard for, is mine and mine alone. No one else is responsible for it."

"Bravo, bravo.” Marco began clapping, which surprised Carly into silence. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she managed to speak.

"I beg your pardon."

"No you don't. You don't beg anything off anyone. I can see that."

"You can?"

"
Si
."

Carly searched his face for a fraction of ridicule or insincerity, but found nothing. He was serious and his gaze steadfast.

"Apart from our little deal here, you do what you want and the heck with anyone else."

True, but hearing it on his lips didn't make it sound very nice and a flush of heat flooded her cheeks.

"Come on, it's exercise time. Your genie is determined to give you your every wish."

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the beach. She didn't resist. Couldn't even if she wanted to, which she didn't because the instant his fingers locked with hers all thoughts of work evaporated.

Subdued, Carly walked beside him along the sloping sand where the fine grains squelched through her toes, its warmth permeating her heart.

As they reached a headland, she began to search the rock pools, but when she realized Marco hadn't followed, she halted. “You're not going to tell me you didn't search for crabs and barnacles when you were a kid."

He shook his head.

"Goodness, this is something I've got to remedy. Come on,” she crossed over the space between them, grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the outgoing tide.

"What is so special about rock pools?"

"It's another world. A watery world, where everything horrid is washed away with the tide, only to be renewed and refreshed again a few hours later."

"How life should be?"

"So you do understand,” she smiled up at him.

But Marco said nothing and she carried on searching, picking up shells and washing off the sand, inspecting their shapes and sizes before replacing them.

"Is this how you wanted your life to be?” he asked quietly.

Carly's hand stilled mid-air. Marco was at her side, creeping up without a sound while she bent over the pool. His pupils were blackened holes, dark and foreboding, his expression doleful and she choked back a strangled gasp and dropped the small conical witches hat back into the pool. As the bands of water radiated in ever increasing circles accepting its booty once more, she stood up and faced him.

"It may have been how I wanted life to be, but it wasn't how it was. Life unfortunately isn't washable. My life was full of dirt and grime and disappointment.” Until, she made a stand for herself she thought silently.

Memories of how life had been laid open anxiety Carly thought long forgotten and conquered. It knotted in her gut, building until she could almost taste it, depressing and desperate in its totality. She had to get away. Now. Without a backward glance she raced up the headland. Digging up her past, dealing with feelings she had submerged for years was too much to cope with at once, the mélange of conflicting emotions confusing. Marco Valente might be one sexy man, but he was too much for her to handle. She was better off with the life she had made for herself.

Wasn't she?

Taking refuge with her reasoning, Carly braced against the inner turmoil that threatened her strength. She turned and watched Marco. He was gazing over the ocean, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans making the fabric taut across his butt.