Sleeping With The Enemy. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
sort of thing, whether they are young or old.”
“Not all women,” she said.
“This has not been my experience.”
She looked haughty. “Then maybe you’re not meeting the right kind of women.”
“If they are women, then they are the right kind.”
She made a noise that sounded like disgust. “How did I ever fall for your smooth words that night?”
He reached out and stroked his fingers along her soft cheek. She gasped as he did so, but did not pull away. Sparks shot through his skin at the touch, made his body hunger sharply for hers.
Her violet eyes were wide. He wondered if she knew they glittered with heat and need. Whatever this was, she felt it, too. Perhaps, for her, it was the lure of the forbidden. Or perhaps it was simply that he was a man and she a woman and they were attracted to each other.
It didn’t have to be complicated, and yet it felt as if it was the most complicated thing on earth.
“You fell,” he said softly, “because you wanted to.”
She had no signal. Tina tossed her phone onto the bed in disgust. She’d tried several times to send a text to Lucia, but there was no signal out here in the middle of this lake.
This place was, she had to admit, magnificent. She pushed open the double doors onto the balcony, which ran the entire width of the house, and stood in the sunshine. The sun’s rays were lengthening as it neared dusk, but her view of the surrounding area was not yet diminished. Castello di Casari sat in the lake, but ringing the lake were mountains punctuated by small villages while vacation homes of the rich and famous perched high on the rocks.
The mountains were deep emerald, blooming with plants and flowers; in the distance, the tallest peaks were wreathed in white. Tina sighed. She could see civilization, but she could not reach it. The castle was built on a small island in the lake, its massive towers and walls taking over the entire island.
She went over to the stone balustrade and leaned against it. Below her, the lake rippled in deep blue currents. There was a sailboat a distance out, and a motorboat zipping by closer in. Pots of pink bougainvillea spilled over in regular intervals around the balcony, and there was a grouping of tables and chairs not too far away. She walked over and sat in one of the chairs, content to sit still and be at peace for a while.
She’d been relieved to find that she had her own room, though she hadn’t truly expected Nico would try to share a room with her. What for? He clearly didn’t want her anymore, no matter that he strummed his fingers over her skin and her body ached for him.
He had simply done it to prove a point. She had fallen because she’d wanted to, he’d said.
And he was right. She had wanted to. Because she’d been overcome by the feelings and sensations ricocheting through her that night, and because she’d wanted more. She’d wanted to see where the feelings led her.
He, however, had seduced her because she was a woman and she was willing.
Tina snorted in disgust. His father had died in bed with a twenty-year-old. Nico would no doubt do the same someday. What a fine father he would make for her baby. She was beginning to understand why her mother had been so secretive—what if her own father had been so terrible?
Renzo knew who his father was, and it had done nothing but cause him pain. He had not told her that, but their mother had. Renzo’s pain was the reason her mother gave for not telling Tina what she wanted to know.
Maybe she’d been right after all.
She sat in the sun until it disappeared behind the mountain. It was still light out, but growing darker much faster now. She still wore jeans and sandals, but she’d removed her jacket and scarf. Now she returned to her room and retrieved them.
There was a knock on her door. The man who had greeted them at the landing pad was there, smiling at her pleasantly. “Signorina, his lordship asked me to tell you that dinner is prepared. You can reach the terrazzo by going out on the balcony and taking the steps down to the next level.”
“Thank you,” Tina replied. She wanted to refuse to join Nico, but she was surprisingly hungry. The anti-nausea medication the doctor had given her had worked wonders and she actually had an appetite for once.
She didn’t change for dinner, determined that she would not do that at least. She was here under protest, not as a willing guest, so to hell with the niceties. Frau Decker would be horrified at her lack of manners, but Frau Decker was in Switzerland. Besides, her old teacher had never addressed a situation in which a lady might be held captive by a gentleman against her will.
Tina frowned wryly. Whatever would the good woman say if she could see this place and the man who waited at the dinner table? Quite probably, like most women, she would giggle and fawn over him.
Tina went onto the balcony and walked the length of it before finding the stairs down to the next level. There, a large table and at least ten chairs had pride of place beside a stunning view of soaring cliffs directly across the lake.
The table was set for two, with crisp white napkins, crystal goblets, silver flatware and pristine white plates. Nico stood with his back to her, looking out at the cliffs and holding a glass of wine from which he occasionally took a sip.
She studied his broad back, reluctant to interrupt his thoughts and turn them toward her once more. He’d changed, she noted with surprise. Instead of the suit, he wore a pair of stonewashed jeans and a black shirt. His hair curled over his collar, and for a moment she longed to go over and slide her fingers into the silkiness of it as she had done that night.
Tina shivered involuntarily, but not from cold. Her body was hot, her blood thick and syrupy in her veins. He did that to her, and it disconcerted her that he still could.
She took the rest of the steps down and Nico turned, his gaze skimming her lightly as he did so. She tilted her chin up, as she’d been taught, and bore his scrutiny as if it were nothing.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’ve been better,” she replied.
He appeared concerned. “Do you still feel nauseous?”
Guilt pricked her. “I’m not ill anymore, thanks to the medication. No, I was thinking more along the lines of how this is my first abduction.”
She didn’t expect him to smile, but he did, and it caught at her heart though it should not. “Mine, too.”
“How fortunate,” she said crisply. “We can enjoy the experience together.”
He came over and pulled her chair out, and she realized she’d actually been standing there as if she’d expected it. How silly, and how very like her at the same time. She only hoped he didn’t notice how she blushed.
His fingers skimmed over her shoulders after he pushed her chair in, and twined in her hair. She went very still, sparks zipping along her spine and behind her ears. It hurt, and it felt like the most wonderful thing all at once.
She wanted him to keep touching her, to slide his fingers against her scalp and then along her neck, down to her breasts. She wanted it far more than she should.
And then his breath was in her ear, and a deep shiver rolled through her.
“I would not say enjoy so much as endure, perhaps,” he said before dropping his hand and taking his own seat.
Tina picked up her water and took a sip. She felt raw inside, exposed, as if he’d seen to the deepest heart of her and knew that her body betrayed her every time he was near. “I was being sarcastic.”
His eyes glittered darkly. “Yes, I realize this. And I was simply saying what you were thinking.”
They were silent while the food arrived. There was an antipasti platter, a delicate angel-hair pasta in sauce, broiled fish, verdure