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

She tilted her head, accommodating him as desire escalated and their kisses grew urgent, hungry. She was burning up and so was he, his flesh on fire beneath her hands.

Yes! This was what she wanted from him, had always wanted. Even when she’d spat and snarled, she’d fought this chemistry between them.

Why had she tried to fight it? It was delicious, addictive.

Domenico tasted of the sea and dark, wickedly rich chocolate—a seductive mix. She shivered in sensual overload as he devoured her with a thoroughness that matched every long-suppressed need.

Had he yearned for this too? Had he lain awake, imagining this moment?

The slide of their bodies was pure magic. The thin fabric of her swimsuit was negligible against the heated promise of his body. Lucy pressed closer, revelling in his powerful musculature, the heady scent of his skin and a deeper, musky note of arousal.

He kissed her throat and she arched back, feeling her feminine power even as she knew herself caught in a web of desire. She was utterly open to his caresses, unprotected against his strength. Yet Lucy felt no doubt or fear. Each kiss he pressed to her skin was homage to the spell woven between them.

Rousing herself from drugged delight, Lucy pulled herself higher, rubbing her cheek against his. The friction of his sandpapery jaw sent another shaft of lightning straight to her groin and she shivered in delicious arousal.

She nipped his ear lobe and heard him growl, low in his throat. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. She smiled and did it again, eager at the thought of Domenico reacting to her at the most primal level.

Large hands wrapped around her waist and he lifted her high to sit on something. Domenico pushed her thighs apart and stepped between them, lodging himself at her core.

‘Domenico.’ Her voice was a rasp of pleasure as the fire spread, overriding a belated voice of warning.

She wanted him. Had done for so long. Even in the days when she’d hated him, she’d secretly yearned for this delight. This affirmation. She’d given up trying to puzzle the attraction that smouldered between them. It was enough to let glorious pleasure sweep her away.

Lucy felt the power of his erection between her legs and against her belly and her breath faltered. They felt so right together. It was all she could do not to rock against him, lost in the need for sensual satisfaction.

With an effort of willpower that almost undid her, she opened her eyes and met the mercurial glitter of his. Heat and shimmering silver fire engulfed her.

His hand palmed her breast and she gasped, overloaded with exquisite sensation. It was too much to bear.

She grabbed his neck and pulled him to her, wanting his lips on hers. Needing the dark mystery of their kisses. Needing him.

Long fingers thrust through her hair, tipping her head back as he tasted her in a long, luxurious kiss that curled her toes. His other hand teased her nipple. Darts of heat arced from the spot, making her move restlessly.

Immediately Domenico slid his hand from her scalp, down her spine, to splay over her bottom and drag her up tight against him. He kissed her hard, his tongue delving as his blatantly aroused body surged against hers.

The world tumbled and re-formed. Her blood sizzled like molten metal swirling in a crucible of pure need. Her lips moved against his and her dazed brain almost stopped functioning.

Domenico eased away a fraction as he slipped his hand over her bare thigh to brush the Lycra at the juncture of her thighs. A bolt of lightning slashed through her, jolting every nerve end, concentrating every sense on that point of contact. She grabbed his shoulders.

Wide-eyed she looked up. His face was pared to austere lines that spoke of raw hunger. Gone was his sophistication, stripped to something more elemental.

More dangerous. The words surfaced in her foggy brain as long fingers teased the band of fabric at her inner thighs, sending whorls of fiery pleasure through her.

Desire warred with shock as she realised how far their kisses had taken her. To the brink of fulfilment. To the brink of giving herself to the man she’d called enemy. To the point of baring herself emotionally as well as physically. That was what scared her.

Her hand clamped his as he moved to insinuate his fingers under the fabric. He froze, his eyes turning blindly to hers. His other hand still cupped her breast.

Lucy watched realisation dawn. His eyes lost that unfocused glitter and widened a fraction.

‘I think it’s time to stop.’

It was a wonder he heard. Her voice was hoarse, a frayed thread of sound. Yet he understood. An instant later he’d backed away, his hands furrowing through his thick hair as if he didn’t trust himself not to touch her again.

Lucy swayed, perched on the edge of the boat. Without his support she felt bereft. She bit her tongue to stop herself calling him back. Her eyes ate him up, from the hard jut of his jaw to the dusting of hair across his broad pectoral muscles and the swell of his biceps as he lifted his arms. From the heavy arousal to the storm-dark glint of his hooded eyes.

She wanted him still. Wanted him to step back and obliterate her doubts with the caress of that clever mouth, seduce her into delight with that big, hard body. Every nerve ending danced in anticipation, undermining her resolve.

Fear surfaced. She’d never known how compelling the need for sexual gratification could be. Domenico tempted her to forget everything. She’d thought herself strong and self-sufficient. Yet all it had taken was one kiss to undo every barrier she’d spent years erecting.

What did it mean?

‘You’re right. It’s late.’ He turned away and, to her consternation, Lucy felt disappointment swell.

* * *

After an evening apart breakfast the next morning was full of silences and stilted conversation.

What had got into him?

Oh, he knew what had got into him. He’d desired Lucy from the moment he’d set eyes on her all those years ago.

How could he have come so close to sex, raw and unvarnished, with the woman convicted of killing Sandro? Guilt churned in his belly. Where was his family loyalty?

Gone the moment he held her. Evicted by sexual desire and the conviction Lucy Knight was a mystery he’d just begun to unravel. An enigma who’d haunted him for years. He desperately needed to understand her for his peace of mind.

It wasn’t only desire she triggered. He’d been beside himself with thwarted fury when he realised she’d been attacked by a family employee. His need to protect had been as strong as if she was his responsibility. His woman.

A frisson of warning crept down his spine.

Yesterday’s revelations had rocked him to the core.

For years he’d believed Lucy had engineered their initial meeting. How unlikely a coincidence that she’d literally bump into him, on his fleeting visit to Rome, when she already worked for his brother?

When the revelations had come thick and fast about Sandro’s uncharacteristic weakness for his au pair, the way she’d twisted him round her little finger and milked him for expensive gifts, it hadn’t taken a genius to work out she’d tried out the same wiles on Domenico.

He’d picked up the tension in his brother’s household that very morning on his visit, only later realising it was due to a love triangle.

Or was it?

She’d said yesterday she hadn’t known his identity before the trial. It was tempting to think Lucy lied but there was no reason now. Besides, he’d seen real hurt in her face when she’d asked why he’d avoided her. Hell! He no longer knew what to believe.

Could she be innocent?

His blood froze. The idea that he’d misjudged her so badly, letting her suffer for a crime she didn’t commit, didn’t bear thinking about.

He looked across to where she sat, eyes riveted on her breakfast as if it fascinated her.

Never before had she refused to meet his eyes.