Inferno's Kiss (21 page)

The intensity of his caresses stirred something deep inside. Not since that bittersweet night at La Terrazza del Ninfeo had she felt so alive
.
It wasn’t until this moment that she realized she’d been doing little more than existing. She’d never stopped longing for him. Never stopped hungering for his touch.

The warmth of his hands slid under her bottom and pulled her closer to the edge of the counter. In the next breath, he thrust deep into her, and her head fell backward as she uttered a cry of pleasure. The heat of his mouth brushed over her throat, leaving her breathless as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her.
Deus
, it was as good between them now as it had been the first time.

Her body clenched around him with every stroke, and she loved the way his strong arm cradled her as he rocked his hips against hers. Every inch of her was alive with sensation. She wasn’t a girl anymore, but her body was responding to his touch as if she were thirty years younger.

Eyes closed, she reveled in the sinewy feel of his body as the friction of his hard length sent first one and then another tremor rocking its way through her. His body hardened against hers as he lifted his head to stare down at her.

“You’re mine, Atia,” he rasped. “You belong to me and no one else.”

The raw, possessive nature of his words sent a thrill through her as she stared into blue eyes blazing with desire. The passion in his gaze was for her and her alone, and his look made her heart beat faster. She barely had time to breathe before his body was furiously pumping into hers. Hard and fast, he pulled her with him along a wave of pleasure.

Blind to everything but the way her body responded to his, she cried out his name as the wave crested. A dark roar echoed out of him, and he throbbed violently inside her, while her body clutched at his with equal strength. Time seemed to stand still until the world slowly righted itself as Marcus rested his forehead against hers. His breathing ragged, he shuddered as she reached up to touch his cheek.

“Thank you,
mea amor
,” he whispered.

“I enjoyed it, too,” she said as she sought his mouth to kiss him gently. “Although I still say we’re too old to be acting this way.”

“Sweet Juno,
carissima
.” He choked out a laugh. “I think we just proved less than a minute ago that we’re far from old,” he teased as his gaze scanned the kitchen before dropping down to where they were still joined. Heat filled her cheeks.

“You didn’t give me much choice, did you?” Despite her attempt to scold him, the breathless note in her voice destroyed the effect.

“Where we’re concerned, I don’t plan to give you much of a choice at all.”

The relentless tone to his statement sent a shiver down her spine. As he pulled away from her, the sensation of loss only heightened the dismay winding its way through her. Time and events had placed a barrier between them, and she wasn’t sure they could overcome it. Worried he would sense her sudden tension, she hopped off the counter to pick up her pants. Strong hands caressed her bottom as she bent over.

“I’d forgotten how beautiful your bottom is,
mea amor
.”

Startled by his touch, she jumped away from him with a small cry of surprise. She whirled around to face him, holding her pants in front of her while clutching her shirt closed. The instant she saw him frown she knew her ridiculous attempt at modesty had alerted him that something was wrong. She swallowed hard as she focused every bit of her skill into keeping her thoughts hidden. Forcing a smile to her lips, she managed to meet his gaze without flinching.

“I’m going to change,” she said breathlessly. “Are you still going to fix me something to eat?”

“Yes.” He eyed her warily for a long moment before he smiled. “And when we’re done eating, I intend to make you hungry again.”

There was no mistaking the significance of his suggestive words, and she struggled with the mixed emotions skimming their way through her. When she didn’t answer him, his frown returned. She immediately drew upon every bit of her
Prima Consul
experience to disguise her real feelings behind an amused expression.

“Arrogance, like pride, goeth before the fall,
caro
.”

“Go change, or I’m going to show you just how arrogant I can be,” he growled with a playful smile, but she could still see the suspicious glint in his eye.

Not about to argue with him, she kept a smile on her lips as she left the kitchen. When she was certain he couldn’t see her, she hurried across the living room floor to her bedroom. Behind her, she heard Marcus’s slightly off-key singing. The sound made her release a half laugh, half sob as she raced into her bedroom and shut the door. Her back pressed into the wood, she closed her eyes and started to shake violently.

Deus
, what had she been thinking? How could she have been so stupid? Making love with Marcus was the worst thing she could have ever done. And Juno help her, she’d confessed she still loved him. While he’d not said he loved her, his behavior had left her with little doubt. He wouldn’t be so adamant about resuming their relationship if he didn’t. If there was one thing about Marcus she could depend on, it was his loyalty and faithfulness.

But it annoyed her that he’d demanded she share her feelings without verbally expressing his love for her as well. His confidence was one of the things she loved best and least about him. It emphasized his decisive nature as well as his determination to protect those he loved, but it was exasperating all the same.

His silent assumption that they would continue as if the past thirty years hadn’t happened was more than irritating. It was disturbing. Her stomach lurched. It didn’t matter how either one of them felt. It was pointless to even consider resuming their relationship. It was impossible to recapture the past, and that’s what they’d tried to do moments ago.

And no matter how wonderful it had felt, it was an illusion. They could never go back. She swallowed the tears she so desperately wanted to shed. Making love with Marcus just now had left her feeling far more vulnerable than she’d felt in a very long time. The sensation wasn’t an unfamiliar one.

Marcus had always had an unsettling effect on her, and he knew it. There was no doubt in her mind that he would use that knowledge to keep her off balance until he got his way. He would use every emotional weapon he possessed to override her objections as to why they shouldn’t resume their relationship. Her confession that she still loved him would be the first thing he’d use.

Still trembling, she quickly discarded her clothes and moved toward the bathroom. She needed a shower. If she was going to succeed in convincing Marcus that what had just happened could never happen again, she needed to wash his scent off her skin. Otherwise it would linger as a subtle reminder of how wonderful their lovemaking had been.

The flash of movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn her head toward the mirror. The woman staring back at her winced. When had she become so old? It seemed like yesterday that she and Marcus had blood bonded. She leaned forward to examine her face carefully. There were a few lines around her eyes, but the rest of her skin was smooth and youthful looking.

With a critical eye, she stared at her naked body. She wasn’t a girl of twenty anymore, and her figure had begun to sag in different places, the skin less supple than years ago. She turned away from the mirror. It wasn’t just time that stood between her and Marcus.

She could never forget what had happened to Gabriel. In Rome, when Marcus had summoned her to the Santa Maria sopra Minerva, she’d said she blamed him for Gabriel’s kidnapping. Even though she’d quickly denied it, she understood why she’d tried to lay the blame at his feet. It was easier to fault Marcus for the past than to admit the truth.

If he ever found out she’d not taken their son’s life when she’d known she could no longer keep him safe . . . she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She’d not had the courage to save Gabriel from his fate, and she loathed herself for it. Afterward, her guilt had only been magnified when Marcus had left her alone to hunt for their son.

She’d wanted to go with him, but he’d been adamant in his refusal. For the longest time she’d hated him for that. It had made her believe Marcus blamed her for Gabriel’s kidnapping, even though he’d denied it. But he had every right to blame her. A sob escaped her as she twisted the hot and cold faucet handles in the shower.

Even now the memories of those final moments before losing Gabriel were as vivid as when they’d happened. Right down to her blood spattering his small face and the stabbing pain that had ripped through her body the moment the Praetorian had struck her from behind.

She stepped into the spray of water that was still warming up and immediately shuddered. It was impossible to know whether it was from the water’s cool temperature or the memories. For years she’d wondered if she could have fought harder that day or done something different to keep Gabriel safe.

Steam filled the shower as the spray grew hotter and warmed her chilled body. For four years, she and Marcus had lived, loved, and celebrated Gabriel’s birth at the Rennes-le-Château estate. They’d been so happy. Atia had known Marcus would eventually take her and Gabriel to Rome to live in the
Absconditus
, but she hadn’t wanted to leave their happy sanctuary. Instead, she’d pleaded with him to stay at the château until he took on the role of reigning Sicari Lord.

That had been a mistake. Gabriel would still be with them if she’d not convinced Marcus to stay at Rennes-le-Château. One more reason it was her fault that they’d lost Gabriel. Another sob escaped her as she wrapped her arms around her waist and allowed the hot water to wash away her tears.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d stood in the heat of the shower, but the sound of Marcus calling her name made her jerk up her head. Through the steam covering the frosted glass of the shower door, she could make out his tall, dark shape as he entered the bathroom.

“Dinner’s ready,
carissima
.”

“I’ll be out in a moment,” she called with more than a hint of panic at the possibility of his entering the shower.

“I can keep it warm if you like.” The teasing note in his voice made her heart slam into her chest.
Deus
, even when she knew things between them were hopeless, the man still held sway over her.

“No, I’m almost done.”

“Hurry up then.”

She watched his dark shadow disappear from the bathroom and expelled a deep breath. Tonight. She needed to end this tonight. Things had gone far enough, and she couldn’t let them go any further. It would only lead to disaster.

Moving as quickly as she could, she finished bathing then left the bathroom to dress. The entire time she was pulling on her clothes she kept expecting Marcus to burst in on her. When she was finally dressed, her nerves were as taut as piano wire and her chest was tight with tension. She quickly ran a comb through her short curling hair and ignored the feeling of panic streaking through her.

The moment she left the bedroom, she knew she was in trouble. All the lights had been dimmed in the apartment, and she heard the melodic voice of a popular Italian singer in the background. Soft candlelight flickered in the small dining area that was a part of the living room. The table had been set for two with a vase in the middle holding a single rosebud.

Where had he gotten a rose at this time of day? She trembled as she remembered the day they first met. He’d showered her in rose petals that night. Deep inside she longed to recapture those wonderful moments, but she was a realist. She knew it wasn’t possible. Marcus emerged from the kitchen and set a bowl of salad on the table. As he turned toward her, he stretched out his hand.

“Come eat,
mea kara
,” he said.

There was nothing seductive, teasing, or wicked in his voice, only a tenderness that made her throat close against the emotion welling up inside her. Sweet Juno, sending him away was going to be far more difficult than she’d ever imagined. Her heart was racing as she moved forward.

She deftly avoided accepting his hand and seated herself at the table. A quick glance up at his face said he wasn’t happy she’d evaded his touch. Averting her eyes, she undid her napkin and spread it out in her lap while Marcus sat down opposite her. Tension skimmed its way through her, drawing every one of her muscles taut and rigid.

As she served herself some salad, she could feel Marcus’s gaze on her, and she steeled herself to look at him. The calculating expression on his face was unnerving, and she slowly put the salad tongs back in the bowl. He handed her the bowl of fettuccine Alfredo before helping himself to the salad.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asked quietly. The question caught her by surprise, and some of her tension eased. At least he hadn’t probed her as to her less than relaxed manner.

“Yes, I remember.”

“You weren’t happy with me at all.”

“Can you blame me?” she muttered with a small amount of irritation. “You were so damned arrogant. One minute Seneca is introducing me to you, and the next you literally drag me away from my best friend’s bonding festivities and my date for the evening, Carlo Giaccone.”

“He wasn’t for you, and I didn’t have much time. I was supposed to return to Rome the next day. I wanted to make sure you knew I’d be back for you.” An invisible finger caressed her cheek for a brief instant before it was gone.

“A point you made quite clear throughout the first few moments of our conversation.”

“And what changed your mind about me?”

There was a note of curiosity in his voice, and she met his gaze steadily. It was the first time he’d ever asked her the question. He’d seldom questioned anything in those early years. He’d simply accepted it as though it were his due. His had been the manner of a Tribune about to become the reigning Sicari Lord.

“The rose petals all over my bedroom.”

“The roses,” he repeated with a small nod. “They weren’t easy to acquire at that time of year.”