Postcards From… Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘I want this,’ she whispered, pulling his head down to close the final gap between them.
Her kiss was hungry and filled with the need that consumed her. He was just as out of control. She could feel it in the way his shoulders trembled under her touch. This felt different from last night somehow. Maybe it was the light of the day that made it more real.
She forced herself to open her eyes as he pulled away, grabbing a foil pack from the bedside cabinet and sheathing himself.
His eyes never left hers as he entered her. Her body stretched and moulded to him, heat filling her and travelling up in waves across her abdomen. The angle of his erection sliding against her seemed to increase the pleasure almost to breaking point. It was overwhelming and yet not enough, all at the same time. He lay flush against her, his mouth and tongue devouring hers as he moved his hips in a slow rhythm that was blissful torture.
Nicole felt the tension in her sex building, felt the pleasure radiating through her in long waves but not quite seeming to crest. She clutched a fistful of the hair at the nape of his neck, willing him to go harder, to end the torture. Rigo kept his pace, his face buried against her neck, whispering something she vaguely recognised as Italian.
When she finally reached the peak she fought the urge to sink her teeth into his shoulder as molten heat coursed through her body in magnificent waves. With one final thrust he sank himself deep inside her and groaned his own release.
* * *
Rigo smiled as Nicole released her death grip on the armrest as soon as the ‘fasten seat belts’ sign was switched off. The bright light in the cabin seemed to exaggerate her pallor as she leaned her head back and exhaled softly.
The child, on the other hand, had been asleep in her car seat since they’d arrived at the airport an hour before. Nicole had anxiously confided her worries over cabin pressure to the stewardess, but he could see now that her worry was only partly about Anna.
‘You are a nervous flier?’ He raised a brow, thanking the attendant as she laid down two glasses of sparkling water and an assortment of light snacks.
Nicole moved to fuss over the blankets that cocooned the child, checking the belt that held the seat in place. ‘I’m not usually, but it’s Anna’s first time on a plane.’
‘And she is looking a damned sight better than you do right now.’ He smiled. ‘Relax, it’s a short flight to Siena, and I assure you my jet is well maintained and completely safe.’
‘I know that.’ She forced a wan smile, letting out one long breath. ‘I’m fine—honestly. I’m looking forward to getting a break from the publicity. That’s enough to get me through this flight.’
‘We won’t be disturbed at the estate—that much I can guarantee.’
He had made sure to organise security for their stay, knowing that there were no real boundaries for the paparazzi. He had also arranged for the nanny to fly over for a few days, to facilitate some alone time with his new wife. He realised he was looking forward to taking some time off from work, and the thought made him pause. He had woken this morning more relaxed and satisfied than he had been in a long time. And yet on their drive back to Paris he had found himself tenser than ever.
The wedding photos had been on the magazine’s website, setting off a storm of publicity he knew would be the final step in undoing any damage to the Fournier deal. The original scandal had all but disappeared from the most prominent tabloids once the news of their engagement had filtered through.
He looked down at his sleeping daughter, now legally a Marchesi by name as well as blood. He should be relieved that things were going to plan. The new developments in his relationship with Nicole would only strengthen their partnership—or so he hoped. She didn’t seem the type to believe in the fairy tale of marriage. She had said herself that love was just a romantic notion, hadn’t she?
He sat forward. ‘Nicole, I was thinking about—’ He stopped, noticing the faint yellow tinge to her cheeks. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ He leaned across the table between them, pressing his hand to her forehead. She was cold and clammy.
She pushed his hand away, shaking her head as she took another deep breath, this time groaning openly. Without another word she stood up and moved like lightning down the luxurious cabin, shutting the bathroom door behind her with a loud click.
Anna let out a small cry in her sleep. The commotion had been enough to disturb her. He silently willed the child not to stir, but of course her eyelids began to flutter before she opened her eyes wide and settled them straight on him.
He had chaired intense, high-risk meetings between multi-billion-euro corporations in the past. He had given keynote speeches in front of tens of thousands of people. But this... He winced as his daughter’s face scrunched up and her eyes filled with tears. This terrified him. He stood as Anna began to sniff, the tears welling in her eyes as she looked up at him.
‘I’m not your mamma—I know,’ he said, feeling utterly ridiculous. She didn’t understand a word he was saying.
The sniffs turned to sobs, and after a moment of indecision he hurriedly undid the seat belt and lifted the small bundle into his arms. She was light as a feather and fitted neatly against his chest. The cabin was cool, so he kept a blanket wrapped tightly around her. He was probably doing it all wrong, but at least she wasn’t crying anymore. He smiled as he felt a tiny fist grab on to his shirtfront. Two perfectly round blue eyes took him in, unapologetically curious.
The bathroom door opened and Nicole emerged, looking slightly less pale. She stood frozen for a moment, watching him with a strange look on her face. As soon as the baby caught sight of her mamma she was wriggling and craning away from him. Nicole made quick work of taking her into her arms and holding her close.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said quietly. ‘I suffer from travel sickness from time to time. The worrying probably didn’t help.’
‘It’s fine. I seem to have avoided breaking her for the time being.’
Nicole smiled, hugging Anna close to her chest. ‘She’s quite sturdy now, really. She was actually five weeks premature—you should have seen her when she was born...’
Nicole’s voice died away, her words hanging between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Then Anna laughed, reaching up to grab a handful of her mother’s dark hair.
‘I should probably go and freshen up,’ Nicole continued awkwardly. ‘I’ll take her with me this time. You probably have work to do.’
Rigo nodded, glancing at from his emails onscreen as she gathered up a bag of toiletries and disappeared into the bedroom at the back of the plane. Something dark and uncomfortable began to uncoil in his chest.
She was beautiful, his daughter. How he hadn’t seen the resemblance straight away he would never understand. But the mind played cruel tricks when it was angry, and he had most definitely been angry. He had missed so much already. He wondered if the little girl would somehow have already erected a great big wall between them. Or if she would remember his absence and think of him forever as somehow lacking as a father.
* * *
As Rigo stepped out onto the veranda of his Tuscan villa he was once again filled with a sense of bone-meltingly deep calm. He nursed a cup of freshly brewed espresso in his hands and sat down to watch as pink fingers of sunlight spread across the dawn sky above the vineyards. The villa sat on acre upon acre of sprawling lush green hills and farmland. He listened to the glorious absence of traffic noise, pedestrian voices and all the other sounds he associated with his life in Paris.
Nicole appeared beside him, dressed in only a light silk robe, her hair spread over her shoulders in a tumble of loose errant waves. He had made love to his wife once more in the night, after waking to feel her long limbs tangled with his own, and then again just before they had decided to get up early for breakfast.
‘This view is breathtaking.’ She sighed, leaning forward against the