The Gold Collection: Surrender To The Tycoon. Chantelle ShawЧитать онлайн книгу.
sex with him, but the idea of parading her wobbly bits past him made her shudder.
Dante lifted his head and gave her a lazy smile that evoked a curious little ache inside her. ‘Am I too heavy for you, cara?’ He pressed his lips to her breast before lifting himself off her but, instead of getting up from the sofa as she had expected, he settled on his side next to her and pulled her close. ‘That was amazing—you were amazing,’ he murmured. His thick black eyelashes brushed his cheeks.
The steady rise and fall of his chest told Rebekah he had fallen asleep. For a few minutes she gave in to temptation and snuggled up to him, loving the feel of his warm skin and the faint abrasion of dark hairs beneath her cheek. It would be so easy to pretend that they were proper lovers, to imagine that what they had just shared had been special and had meant something. She was obviously not cut out for casual sex, she thought ruefully. She was finding it hard to separate her emotions from the physical act of making love with Dante, but she did not kid herself that he would suffer the same problem.
Moving carefully so that she did not disturb him, she propped herself on her elbow and studied him. His hard-boned face was all angles and planes in the lamplight. But the lock of jet-black hair that had fallen across his brow softened his features and in sleep he lost a little of his arrogance and looked relaxed and so achingly beautiful that Rebekah longed to touch him and trace the sensual curve of his mouth. But if she woke him they would undoubtedly have sex again and her emotions would become even more involved.
It was best to walk away now. But it took all her willpower to extricate herself from his arms. He gave a little grunt of protest and she held her breath, but he did not stir as she gathered up her clothes and tiptoed from the room.
SOFT golden light filled Dante’s vision when he opened his eyes. For a few seconds he was puzzled before he remembered where he was—not in his bed, but lying on a sofa in the sitting room. He sat up when he realised that Rebekah was no longer cuddled up against him. The table lamp had been switched off and daylight was filtering through the pale curtains. Glancing down, he discovered that she had draped a cashmere throw over him. He was oddly touched by the gesture of simple kindness. A caring nature was not an attribute he sought from his mistresses. But he acknowledged that Rebekah was very different to the type of women he usually had affairs with, and in the cold light of day that fact made him question whether he had been crazy to sleep with her.
He pulled on his trousers, did not bother to don his shirt, and headed out of the room to find her. Noises from the kitchen as he walked past alerted him to her whereabouts and as he pushed open the door, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee welcomed him.
‘Good morning. Coffee’s ready, and I’m just about to start breakfast. How would you like your eggs?’
Dante was taken aback when she spoke in the same bright, crisp manner that she always greeted him with in the mornings. But her tone was a little too breezy, and although she quickly turned her head away he noticed the pink stain on her cheeks. He was reminded of her flushed face last night as she had writhed beneath him, her head thrown back and her lips parted as she had clearly enjoyed a shattering orgasm. But this morning her heightened colour was the only resemblance to the woman from last night. Like Cinderella, she was back in the kitchen dressed, if not in rags, then in clothes that were so unflattering they should be sent to a charity shop immediately.
He skimmed his eyes over her loose black chef’s trousers and voluminous polo shirt that disguised her shapely figure. Disconcerted that she was behaving as if nothing had happened between them last night, he murmured, ‘I’m not hungry, cara. At least not for food,’ he said huskily as he walked over to where she was standing next to the worktop and slid his arms around her waist. He had expected her to feel a little awkward with him, but to his surprise she stiffened and her back became as straight as a ramrod.
He pressed his lips to the base of her neck, exposed where her hair was tied up in its usual severe style on top of her head. ‘You don’t need to be shy with me. Last night was enjoyable for both of us, wasn’t it?’
Rebekah bit her lip. ‘Enjoyable’ came nowhere near to describing the incredible pleasure she had experienced when Dante had made love to her. But, although he had said he had enjoyed sex with her, she guessed that for him it hadn’t been anything special. She was just another woman who had shared his bed for a night—except that they hadn’t even made it to the bedroom, she thought, flushing as she recalled the wildfire passion that had exploded between them on the sitting room sofa.
She caught her breath when he trailed his lips up her neck and nipped her earlobe with his teeth. The little dart of pleasure-pain sent a quiver through her and she fought the temptation to turn in his arms so that he could kiss her properly. It would be so easy to melt into his arms and make love with him again. But she dared not risk it. Seeing him this morning, looking utterly gorgeous with his hair ruffled and his jaw shaded with dark stubble, made her realise she had been kidding herself to think she could separate her emotions from her physical response to him. There was a danger she could be hurt by him, and Lord knew she had been hurt enough in the past. It was safer to leave him now before she did something stupid like fall in love with him.
‘Dante … I …’ Her heartbeat quickened when he slid his hands beneath the hem of her shirt. Her skin felt super-sensitive and she caught her breath when he skimmed his fingertips over her ribcage and continued higher until he reached the undersides of her breasts.
‘This is for you.’ She snatched an envelope from the worktop and thrust it at him.
Dante frowned. Rebekah wasn’t behaving like he had expected. He could understand if she felt a little shy, but he knew damn well she had enjoyed last night as much as he had. He glanced at the envelope with his name neatly printed on the front. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s … my letter of resignation.’
He said nothing as he slit the envelope, withdrew its contents and read the two lines she had written, but his silence simmered with anger that was reflected in his steely grey eyes.
‘I think it’s best if I leave straight away,’ Rebekah mumbled. She dared not spend another night under Dante’s roof, not if there was a chance she might spend it in his bed. If he tried to persuade her, she was not at all sure she would be able to resist him. The problem was, she did not actually have anywhere to go. Before Dante had walked in she had been searching through the property listings on her laptop. Luckily she had saved quite a bit of money while she had worked for him and she had enough to pay a deposit on a flat, but she would have to find another job quickly so that she could afford the rent.
‘Why?’
The single terse word exploded from him like a gunshot and made her jump. Dante made a slashing movement with his hand. His expression was furious, his eyes blazing, and he suddenly looked much more hot-blooded Italian than cool English lawyer. ‘Why do you want to leave?’
‘Last night was great,’ she said stiffly. ‘But it was just a … a one-night stand, and now it’s time for me to move on.’
Dante stared at her, not quite able to believe what he was hearing. It was true he’d had his fair share of one-night stands but they had always been his choice. He was used to calling the shots in his relationships and he did not like the feeling that he was powerless in this situation.
He did not want to lose her. The thought slid into his head and he tensed as the implication sank in. You could not lose what you did not have, he reminded himself. Rebekah was not his and he did not want her to be. He did not want a long-term relationship—once had been enough. He simply wanted to explore the wild passion they had shared last night and he was not ready to let her go yet.
‘I don’t understand why you no longer want to work for me,’ he said curtly. ‘Why can’t we just carry on as before?’
As he spoke the words Dante realised the futility of them. He could never go back to thinking of Rebekah as