A Night In His Arms: Captive in the Spotlight / Meddling with a Millionaire / How to Seduce a Billionaire

‘But you can swim.’

‘Even in England we’ve got public indoor pools, you know.’ She paused. ‘That’s why I jumped at the chance to work in Italy, to see the Mediterranean.’ Pleasure rose at the sight of the azure sea, the sky turning blush pink over Domenico’s island and, when she turned, the dazzling view of villages clinging to the mainland.

It was the embodiment of those fantasies she’d had as a girl: sun, sand and an exotic foreign location. Even a sun-bronzed hunk with mesmerising good looks.

How naïve she’d been, yearning for adventure.

‘You lived far from the sea?’

She sipped her juice. ‘Not far. But our interests were all on dry land.’

‘Our?’

‘My dad and me.’ She paused, registering the familiar pang of loss, but with her attention on the breathtaking view, the pain wasn’t as sharp as usual. ‘He was a bus driver and mad about vintage cars. I spent my childhood visiting displays of old automobiles or helping him fix ours.’ She smiled. ‘He’d have loved that one you have at the palazzo.’

Her smile faded and her throat tightened as it often did when she thought of her dad and the precious time they’d lost. ‘He died just after the trial.’

She turned to find Domenico looking as grim as she’d ever seen him. This time the shiver that ran through her wasn’t one of pleasure but chill foreboding.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Lucy.’ He stood and moved towards her, then shifted abruptly away.

‘It’s no one’s fault,’ she murmured, refusing to listen to the little voice that said she should have found some way to see her beloved dad before he passed on. The voice of guilt, reminding her of all she’d put him through when he was so ill.

‘But you wanted to be with him.’

Surprised, she looked up and saw understanding in his eyes. Of course. He’d been overseas when his brother had died. He knew how it felt to be far away at such a time.

‘Yes.’ Her voice was hoarse.

‘He would have known. He would have understood.’

‘I know, but it doesn’t make it easier, does it?’

He was silent so long she thought she’d overstepped the mark, referring however obliquely to his own loss.

‘No, it doesn’t.’ His mouth twisted. ‘I was in New York when Sandro died. I kept telling myself it would never have happened if I’d been in Rome.’

Lucy bit her lip but finally let the words escape. ‘It wouldn’t have made any difference.’ Did he want to hear that from the woman he thought responsible?

His eyes darkened, then he nodded. ‘You’re right. It’s just that Sandro was—’ he frowned ‘—special. Our parents died when I was young and Sandro was more than a big brother.’

‘He was a good man,’ she said. He hadn’t been perfect. She’d wished he’d got specialist help for his wife’s depression. Yet though she didn’t agree, she understood his reluctance not to upset her when she saw outside help as proof she was a bad mother.

As an employer he’d been decent. Looking back, she realised what a quandary she’d put him in with her hysterical demand to leave immediately for England. Of course he’d put his family’s needs first. She’d been young and overwrought, convinced a delay of a few days would make a difference to her father.

‘Sandro was the one who taught me to swim, and to snorkel.’ Domenico smiled wistfully. ‘And, come to that, how to drive a speedboat.’

‘My dad taught me how to strip down an engine.’ Her mouth curved reminiscently. ‘And how to make a kite and fly it. He even came to ballet classes when I was little and too shy to go alone.’

‘He sounds like a perfect father.’

‘He was.’

‘You never wanted to be a mechanic or a driver like him?’

‘No. I wanted to be a teacher. Working with children was always my dream. But that’s not possible now.’ She kept her voice brisk, refusing to wallow in self-pity.

‘What will you do?’ He sounded grave, as if her answer mattered.

Lucy looked at the sunset glowing amber and peach, rimmed with gold, then across to the mainland, where the dying sun gilded the coastline into something fantastic. It was the most exquisite view. She stored the memory against the empty days ahead, when life would be all struggle.

‘I took a bookkeeping course. I thought there’d be more chance of getting a job working with figures than with people, given my record.’ Except she doubted she’d be left alone long enough to find a job. This was a temporary respite. Once she left, the press would hound her. Who would employ her?

Abruptly she put her glass down and stood. ‘Isn’t it time we headed back?’ She needed to be alone, to sort out the problems she’d avoided while she was here. She’d been living in a fantasy world. Soon she’d face reality.

Lucy spun away. But the deck was slick where she’d dripped seawater. Her foot shot out beneath her. She flailed but was falling when Domenico grabbed her and hauled her to him.

She told herself it was the shock of almost falling that made adrenalin surge and her heart thump. It had nothing to do with the look in Domenico’s stormy eyes or the feel of his hot, damp body against hers.

‘You can let me go.’ Her breasts rose and fell with her choppy breathing.

Lucy put her hands on his arms to push herself away. Instead her fingers curled around the tensile strength of his biceps as if protesting the need to move.

‘What if I don’t want to let you go?’ His voice was so deep its vibration rumbled through her.

Bent back over his arm, she watched his face come closer. His gaze moved to her mouth and her heart gave a mighty leap as she read his intent.

‘No!’ Her voice was breathless. ‘I don’t want this!’

He shook his head. ‘I thought we’d agreed, Lucy. No more lies.’ For a moment longer he watched her, waiting for the protest they both knew she wouldn’t make.

Then slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#u83a98ce1-24dc-5133-bc01-e47119cd4372)

DOMENICO’S LIPS BRUSHED hers in a light, barely there caress that made her mouth tingle and her blood surge. Twice, three times, he rubbed his mouth across hers, sending every sense into overdrive, till finally impatience overwhelmed caution and she clamped her hands to his wet hair and kissed him back.

There! No more teasing, just the heat of his mouth on hers. Her fingers slid around his skull, cradling him. The reality of him, the unyielding strength of bone and bunched muscle, of surprisingly soft lips making her blood sing, was everything she’d imagined and more.

His tongue slipped along the seam of her lips and it was the most natural thing in the world to open for him. For him to delve into her mouth and swirl delight through her veins. For her to respond with an honesty that eclipsed any vague thought of restraint.

She felt as if she’d waited a lifetime for this.

It didn’t matter that she was a novice and he a master at this art. Eagerness made up for inexperience as she met his need with her own. Their tongues tangled, slid, stroked and goose bumps broke out across her flesh.

Domenico sucked her tongue into his mouth and her pulse catapulted. He nipped her bottom lip and Lucy sighed as pleasure engulfed her.

She leaned back, supported only by his embrace but she had no fear of falling. His arms were like steel ropes, lashing her close. His chest slid against hers and she gasped as electricity sparked and fired through her body, to her nipples, her stomach, the apex of her thighs. Behind the shocking heat came a melting languor that liquefied her bones and stole her will.