Modern Romance Collection: February 2018 Books 5 - 8. Kelly HunterЧитать онлайн книгу.
had no intention of going any further, kissing her when he knew she was innocent, but even more than that, there was something about Pia that got under his skin, that lingered long after she was gone.
There was something about her that made Raphael want, something in her gaze when she looked at him—as if she could see more than what he was: a ruthless, hardened cynic.
* * *
How dare he kiss her, then act affronted because she liked it? Dear God, she could still feel the sharp pulses between her legs. Could feel his warm breath on her cheek, his fingers on her buttocks.
That kiss had been such pure pleasure that she couldn’t feel the ground now. And yet, Raphael seemed determined to flatten her with reality.
A show? Who was he kidding?
“We’re both responsible for that kiss turning into something else,” she said, her voice vibrating with hurt and anger.
“Si.”
“Then you’re unhappy because I enjoyed it more than you think I should?”
“I lost control. And it won’t happen again.”
“The kiss or losing control?” Pia demanded, her heart already taking a beating. How could she forget the impression of the hard column of flesh that he’d pressed against her belly? Had that been part of the pretense too? When he opened his mouth, she held him off. “Stop talking before you say something I can’t forgive.”
Eyes flaring, he looked away. In profile, his face was tight with control. His impressive chest rose and fell.
“Are you all right?”
“No. I’m not all right.” She wished she could lie, but what was the point? Just as she couldn’t become beautiful or sophisticated, she couldn’t play games either.
Oh, why had she involved him in this farce in the first place? She’d thought she’d somehow resist her attraction to him, but she hadn’t counted on finding such a complicated man beneath. He was tying her up in knots—and that was when he wasn’t kissing her. “I don’t kiss a man as if my life depends on it, and then coolly wipe it from my mind.”
When he reached for her hands, Pia shied them away. A tic beat violently under his jaw.
He didn’t want to have kissed her, yet he didn’t like it if she turned away from his touch. What did he want from her?
“You have to. I won’t let it spiral like that, but if we have to keep this pretense up some intimacy will be required.”
Understanding dampened the scorching trails his body had left across hers. This was how he usually had his affairs. Except she hadn’t followed the script. “I can’t just separate it like you do. I can’t turn it off when it’s inconvenient.”
His eyes flared. “Convenient? Nothing about my life has been convenient since you decided to storm into it. First, he had all of Milan tripping over themselves to get to you. Then, he puts you in my way by involving the damned Castillaghis in this whole thing. Do I worry about the threats my ex is making about Alyssa or do I worry about which man’s trap you’ll fall into next? My whole life has been turned upside down because of your presence. Damn Gio and damn...”
Pia flinched at the vehemence in his words. Did he really resent her presence in his life so much? Tears prickled at the back of her eyes and she shut them away.
Perhaps sensing how she’d retreated from him, he took a deep breath, ran a hand over his eyes. Whatever he claimed, it was clear that the kiss hadn’t left him unaffected.
He reached her and traced a finger against her jawline. The tenderness in the gesture stole her breath just as much as the kiss had done. Made her long for something that he clearly wasn’t going to give. “You kiss me like you can’t stop, you snarl at me for turning your life upside down, and then you touch me as if I’m precious. I don’t understand you, Raphael.”
“How is it that a smart science teacher can’t figure out cause and effect?”
“Cause and effect?” she repeated stupidly, blinking up at him.
“No good can come of this. I will never marry again, much less love again. And you, even after what that man did, you still have stars in your eyes. I kiss you because I can’t help it.” A ragged growl punctured his words. “I kiss you because everything about you drives me crazy. All I can think of when I wake up or go to bed or when I take myself in hand is how good it would be to move inside you. How good it feels when you come alive in my arms. But all I want from a woman is one night, a short, torrid affair at best. You’re not offering that, are you?”
She shook her head automatically, and he snorted. “I didn’t think so.”
With one searing glance at her mouth, he walked away, leaving Pia quaking as if she’d been through an earthquake.
An affair with Raphael—even one night with him—letting his strong body cover hers, welcoming that hardness into her body, letting him see her at her most vulnerable... Heat flushed from every pore. Her body trembled just at the images, hungered for what she knew would be unbearable pleasure.
But it was her heart, drumming even now, that she was afraid of.
Frank had only chipped it. Raphael, given a chance, would crush it.
ANY DOUBTS PIA had about Raphael’s promise were proved unnecessary over the next few weeks. Any momentary, crazy belief she might have had in his matter-of-fact statement that he wanted her despite his legendary will, shredded in the freezingly polite way he treated her.
Forget kissing. He didn’t even touch her unless it was for an audience. Even then, he barely held her arm with the tips of his fingers as if she would contaminate him. Even his accusations had felt more personal than this.
The news that Raphael Mastrantino was dating Giovanni Vito’s granddaughter swept through society faster than the heat wave that had descended on Milan.
If Pia had thought she’d garnered too much attention as Gio’s American granddaughter, it was nothing compared to the glances and whispers thrown her way as the woman who’d caught Raphael’s interest. His public possessiveness had fended off any other man’s interest, exactly as she’d intended.
Giovanni, while he said he was delighted with this turn of events, was strangely toned down.
Pia, however, hadn’t foreseen how torturous their little facade would be to her. Or that the more she saw of Raphael, the more she found a man worth admiring.
He was the perfect son, the perfect brother, the perfect boss, although a little distant, if all the things Pia had heard at an office party were to be believed. From Gio, she knew he was the perfect godson. As one woman had explained in lurid detail at another party, unaware that Pia stood behind her, he was a perfect lover.
No, scratch that, the woman had been aware that Pia was there and had taken a petty satisfaction in making sure Pia overheard.
In front of Milan and Gio and his family, he was the attentive boyfriend or lover or whatever the hell it was that they were pretending to be. Every day, he sent her flowers or candy or some other treat. When she’d asked if he’d bought her a subscription for a gift club for the next few years, he’d snarled something in Italian.
She’d had her answer, which festered. She was nothing but a painful chore for him, an item on his damned to-do list.
Between a huge deal VA was cooking with a manufacturing company in Japan and his time with Alyssa, he was hardly available anyway. Their pretense was barely a blip in his life. Whereas for Pia, every carefully orchestrated touch was torture. Every moment she spent in his company, she was caught between wanting to run away and desperately wanting more.
As if that wasn’t