The Italian's Baby Bargain: The Italian's Wedding Ultimatum / The Italian's Forced Bride / The Mancini Marriage Bargain. Kate WalkerЧитать онлайн книгу.
anything at all with the sort of erotic images that were jostling for position in her head was nothing short of a miracle.
He flashed her a hawkish glare that was not at all kind. As he proceeded to consult the metal-banded watch on his wrist Sam’s attention was drawn to the contrast of the cold dull metal to his warm, bronzed, satiny skin. Her stomach did a painful flip as she looked at the light dusting of dark body hair on his sinewed forearm and, appalled by the strength and primitive quality of the urge that made her want to touch him, she turned her head.
You just have to step back, she told herself. Be objective…! Great advice—pity there’s not a chance in hell of me taking it, she thought, swallowing the bubble of hysterical laughter in her throat.
Inhaling a deep, sustaining breath, she made herself focus on his face. The line between his strong dark brows deepened, as though his thoughts had already moved on to more pressing issues. Of course it was good that he’d accepted her decision and not tried to dissuade her, but she would have felt a little better if he had looked as though it cost him some effort!
Obviously not sleeping with me ranks alongside other minor inconveniences—such as missing the last post!
It was just beginning to dawn on her that he’d been standing there looking at his watch for a strangely long space of time when he lifted his head and looked at her.
‘If you do want to go back to London tonight speak to Smithie. She will arrange transport.’
‘You’re not going back…?’ His eyes narrowed fractionally and she added quickly, anxious to dispel any impression that she was trying to invite herself along for the ride, ‘Not that I expect a lift or anything.’
His hand on the door, Alessandro turned slowly back. Sam gave a sharp intake of breath and shrank back from the molten ferocity of the expression that drew the flesh taut across the sharp angles of his lean face. ‘A lift? Madre di Dio!’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ll probably give my mum a ring and stay at home until my car is sorted.’
His narrowed obsidian gaze moved across her face. ‘You stand there looking like that and talk about getting your car fixed!’ He closed his eyes, pressed his fingers to the bridge of his patrician nose and released a wrathful flood of fluid Italian.
Italian, Sam decided, listening in awestruck silence to the outpouring, was a very expressive language to get mad in. Though for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what she had said or done to trigger this from a man who was legendary for his reserve and control. When he opened his eyes again she realised that she wasn’t seeing the polite regret she had felt was being expressed moments earlier. In his searing stare she was seeing overt raw hunger and rampant frustration…Not an I missed my game of squash expression at all.
As Sam’s stomach muscles clenched she suddenly wasn’t so sure about her assessment of the situation. Alessandro wasn’t acting like a man who was going to forget her name by tomorrow. He was acting like a man who was pretty near to losing it!
As she studied him through the spiky sweep of her dark lashes she saw him rake a hand viciously through his hair. As he padded across the room, as sleek and dangerous as any jungle cat, she could hear him muttering under his breath in his native tongue. Having put several feet between them, he turned his head and looked at her.
My God, but he really is magnificent! The tightness in her chest became a physical pain as she watched him.
‘You think I could trust myself to be alone in a car with you?’ The frustration emanating from him was an almost palpable entity in the room.
Sam, not knowing what else she could do or say, shook her head.
His sensual upper lip curled in a grimace of self-derision. ‘Dio,’ he rasped thickly. ‘I can’t trust myself to be in the same room as you!’
It wasn’t until after the door had slammed, hard enough to rattle the hinges and several pieces of artwork on the walls, that Sam, her emotion-whacked body limp, literally crumbled. Tears streaming down her face, she slowly slid down the wall until she sat in a hunched heap of misery on the floor. A sob of titanic proportions rocked her body as her head fell forward into her hands.
Why on earth did you tell him to go?
Sam had no idea how long she sat there. The next thing she registered was strong hands tilting her face upwards and dark eyes filled with concern examining her tear-drenched features.
Alessandro had dropped down onto his knees beside her.
‘Tell me,’ he demanded, his velvet voice roughly imperative. ‘What is wrong?’
‘Nothing…’ she claimed, with tears still streaming down her face. ‘What are you doing here?’ Other than driving me totally out of my mind.
‘Clearly nothing is a lie. I left my jacket.’ His eyes didn’t leave her face as he nodded towards the bed. ‘Now, tell me,’ he coaxed. ‘No, I know,’ he added harshly. ‘And the man is not worth it. I know it seems hard now, but if you can forget…’
‘Forget?’ she shrilled, pulling her face angrily from the protective circle of his fingers with a loud sniff. ‘How the hell am I meant to forget when you’re here.’
He pressed a hand to his chest and looked confused. ‘Me…?’
‘Who else?’ she demanded, rubbing her teary eyes with her balled fists.
‘You were crying before I returned.’
‘Of course I was. You left!’ Her lips started to quiver as a fat tear slid slowly down her cheek. I never cry.
Alessandro dragged a not quite steady hand through his hair and looked mystified. ‘Because that is what you wanted.’
‘My God, are you stupid?’ she yelled, glaring up at him through a shimmer of tears. With both fists she scrubbed the dampness from her cheeks and then, as her eyes slid from his, admitted huskily, ‘I lied.’
‘You lied…?’
She nodded and sniffed. ‘About not wanting you to stay.’
He tensed and leaned back on his heels, his eyes fixed on her downbent head.
‘I didn’t want you to go…’ With a groan, Sam lifted her head, pushing her still damp copper hair back from her smooth forehead as she met his eyes. ‘Well, I did—but I didn’t…’
A muscle in his lean cheek clenched and then clenched again as he fought the impulse to crush her to him. Per amor di Dio! A man would have to be lacking every red blood cell not to respond to the sultry half-scared invitation in those wide-spaced eyes. Despite the fact that his body ached he held himself in check…just.
His seething frustration concealed behind a languid façade, he smiled sardonically. ‘Well, that makes everything as clear as mud.’
Female mood swings were something he had a healthy masculine respect for, but this woman was in a class of her own! He had always prided himself on his self-control, but if she changed her mind again he feared that his control—already tested to the limit—would prove inadequate to the task of walking away. The women he had mutually beneficial arrangements with knew the score; there were no emotional scenes. By contrast, the red-headed Samantha Maguire was a walking three-act drama!
His ironic drawl ignited a flare of anger in Sam. What does he want me to do…? Beg…?
Alessandro watched her white teeth sink into the trembling curve of her full lower lip. He swallowed. Dio mio, it was more than flesh could bear! He had been thinking about that mouth all day, and what he would like to do with it.
Hands clenched at his sides, his thoughts abruptly reversed to the moment earlier that day, when he had witnessed Trevelan kissing her. His primitive desire to choke