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It Started With A Proposition: Blackmailed into the Italian's Bed / Contract with Consequences / The Passion Price. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.

It Started With A Proposition: Blackmailed into the Italian's Bed / Contract with Consequences / The Passion Price - Miranda Lee


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carved legs. Marble-topped tables, gold velvet drapes at the window, subdued lighting from heavily fringed lamps whose bases were brass figurines of naked women.

      The bedroom was separated from the sitting area by double doors, currently open, giving Jordan a glimpse of the bottom half of the four-poster bed Gino had mentioned. In there the colours were reversed—the carpet gold and the walls covered in a deep red wallpaper, the velvet drapes around the bed the same dark red colour.

      ‘Does that mean you like it or not?’ Gino said drily by her side.

      ‘It’s not exactly my cup of tea,’ she replied.

      ‘Wait till you see the bathroom.’

      A stab of nervous tension suddenly set her bladder on edge. ‘I think I need to go see it right now.’

      ‘Be my guest,’ Gino invited.

      ‘Alone,’ she added sharply.

      No television, she noted as she hurried through the sitting room, nor a mini-bar. Though there was an antique cabinet in one corner which could have hidden anything. A bottle of French champagne—already opened—sat in a silver ice bucket on the marble-topped coffee table, along with some tasty little treats: strawberries…caviar…And—if she wasn’t mistaken—chocolate truffles.

      Was that Gino’s doing? Or the hotel’s?

      The bedroom was as sumptuous as it looked from a distance. The bedspread was made of red and gold quilted satin, the pillows of gold satin, as were the sheets. The brass bases of the bedside lamps were more naked ladies in various poses. An elegant glass bottle stood next to one lamp, filled with what looked like a body lotion of some kind.

      The bathroom lived up to Gino’s warning: black marble dominated the room, covering the floors, walls and ceiling. The twin sink units were made of the same marble, the bowls as well. The toilet, bidet and corner spa bath were in a rich cream colour, the taps and other fittings gold-plated. The towels were scarlet, as were the floor mats. Several small alcoves had been carved high up in the marble walls. Tonight they held gold candles which were lit, looking like glow-worms in a dark cave—a dark, sexually charged cave.

      Jordan could only imagine what Gino had in mind for that room later on. She shuddered anew as she washed her hands at the sink, grateful that the dim light wouldn’t let her see the excitement in her eyes reflected in the mirror.

      She combed her slightly breeze-blown hair, but didn’t bother to refresh her lipstick. What was the point? It wouldn’t be there for long.

      Gathering herself, she exited the bathroom and returned to the sitting area, where Gino was standing at the window with his back to her. He turned at the sound of her entry. He was holding a near full glass of champagne, and he was frowning.

      ‘I’ve been thinking,’ he began.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘I was wrong to blackmail you into this. It’s not what I intended to do when I went to that dinner tonight. It’s not what I want.’

      Jordan had never been so astounded in all her life.

      ‘What is it that you want, then?’

      ‘I still want you, Jordan. That hasn’t changed. But I want you to come to me willingly. I don’t want to force you, or even to seduce you. I want what we once had together. You—eager to surrender yourself to me. I don’t want you to hate me in the morning. And I don’t want to hate myself.’

      Jordan just stared at Gino, his amazing and highly unexpected turnaround bringing a fierce frustration which found its voice in anger.

      ‘I don’t think you know what you want, Gino,’ she said sharply. ‘Look, if it makes you feel any better, then I have come here willingly. It’s not because you blackmailed me. You have some kind of hold over me. I admit it. You turn up out of the blue, crook your finger, and silly Jordan comes running. But don’t delude yourself into thinking we can recapture what we once had. For one thing, I don’t love you any more. How could I possibly love a man who has me investigated behind my back? But, yes, I still lust after you. You were right in what you said at that table tonight. You know what I like. You know all my dark little secrets.

      ‘So here I am,’ she added, reaching up behind her back and pulling the zipper down. ‘Doing what I vowed I’d never do. But not because of your threat to tell Chad. I’m hoping that once I’ve had my fill of you tonight I’ll be able to walk away in the morning and make a decent life for myself with a man who cares about me and wants to marry me.’

      

      Gino watched, appalled but cripplingly aroused, as she peeled her dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing there in her underwear.

      Not prim and proper underwear, but sexy underwear. A black satin teddy, with suspenders attached to shiny flesh-coloured stockings.

      Her glittering blue eyes held his boldly whilst she kicked off her shoes and then unflicked each suspender. With a haughty toss of her lovely blonde hair she moved over to the coffee table and put one foot up, rolling the stocking down to her toes before snapping it off.

      Gino’s gut crunched down hard at the thought that she might have performed like this for Stedley. Though if she had, then what was she doing here?

      No, it’s only with me that she’s like this. She’s virtually said as much.

      The other stocking followed, then the pearls, which she tossed aside as carelessly as the nylons. When she hooked her fingers under the thin satin straps of the teddy Gino’s stopped breathing altogether. His blood, however, was still roaring round his veins, engorging his flesh to titanic proportions.

      She actually smiled as she peeled the garment down her body. A slow siren’s smile.

      ‘Don’t look so gobsmacked,’ she said, when she finally stood there in the nude. ‘This is what you wanted, isn’t it?’

      Gino’s hand gripped the stem of his glass with such force that it was a miracle it didn’t snap.

      ‘No,’ he ground out. ‘Not quite. Put the shoes back on.’

      Now it was her turn to look gobsmacked.

      ‘That’s the way I pictured you when I was eating dinner tonight. That’s what I want. For starters,’ he added, all qualms gone over how he was going to treat her tonight. He’d tried to do the right thing, but she wanted none of it. This was what she wanted. To have her fill of him. And he was more than happy to oblige!

      

      Jordan swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She should never have started stripping in front of him, never have taken him on.

      It had only been a matter of time before her recklessness backfired on her.

      Gino no longer looked shocked. His expression was cold and implacable.

      ‘Do it!’ he ordered.

      Jordan’s feet found her shoes. The height of the heels changed the way she stood. The sharp angle of her feet made her straighten her shoulders and suck in her stomach, those actions thrusting her breasts forward and upwards.

      Gino’s black eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down, his heavily hooded gaze as hard as it was exciting.

      Had he known she would feel different standing there in the nude with her high heels on? More exposed? More…aroused?

      Yes, of course he knew. He knew she was standing there, trembling inside with anticipation of what would come next. Knew that she thrilled to his commands and his demands.

      ‘That’s better,’ he said, a dark triumph in his eyes. ‘Now come over here…’

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      JORDAN


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