Fascination: The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge

‘Perhaps,’ she began slowly, as she served thinly sliced beef fillets and vegetables onto their plates, a large portion for Cesare, a much smaller one for herself, ‘it’s time we discussed the terms of this as yet mythical marriage.?’ She placed the plates on the table in front of them before sitting down again.

‘I have already agreed to satisfy your father’s … sensibilities concerning a marriage between the two of us,’ Cesare replied. ‘I do not think you are in any position to dictate any further terms to me, Robin.’ Though he admired her nerve, he had absolutely no sympathy for her sentiment.

‘Nevertheless,’ she told him firmly, ‘if I do agree to marry you—and it’s still a big if—then I also intend having some input into the … nature of the marriage.’

Cesare found himself smiling, sure that he knew exactly which part of the marriage she was referring to. ‘Go on,’ he invited dryly, deciding he had better quickly eat some of the delicious beef in front of him. From the little experience he had of dealing with this woman, his appetite could desert him at any moment.

Her chin rose defiantly, those violet-coloured eyes glittering purple. ‘Perhaps we could start by having you drop this mocking way you have of responding to everything I say!’ she snapped.

His smile widened. ‘Perhaps if you stopped coming out with comments that I find amusing, I might be able to do so,’ he came back laconically.

‘I’m glad you find it so amusing, Cesare!’ Robin glared. ‘Personally, I find absolutely nothing to laugh about in this situation!’

Yes, he had been correct—he was losing his appetite. For food, anyway.

He liked that heated flush to her cheeks, the way her eyes sparkled deeply purple with emotion, her breasts thrusting against the thin material of her dress as she tensed her shoulders with indignant reproval at what she viewed as his inability to take her seriously.

But he seriously wanted to strip that dress from her body right now and make love to her!

‘I am not laughing, Robin,’ he assured her huskily. ‘But perhaps we should postpone this conversation until after we have eaten?’

‘I’m not hungry!’ She pushed her plate away, her whole body rigid with her anger.

Neither was he. His appetite was for something much more … tactile than food now.

‘Do not behave like a child, Robin,’ he said sternly.

‘Is that what I’m doing?’ she came back swiftly.

‘I believe so,’ he responded.

‘And if the great Cesare Gambrelli believes it to be so, then it must be so!’ Robin scorned.

Cesare looked at her consideringly. ‘Why are you deliberately provoking an argument between the two of us, Robin?’ he finally asked.

‘I’m being provocative, am I?’ she said heatedly.

‘You must know that you are.’

Because Robin knew she wanted him!

Because she had seen the way he had looked at her seconds ago, seen the desire in his eyes before he’d masked it, and at this moment her whole body was singing with the knowledge of her own need!

Because she didn’t want to want him!

‘Forgive me.’ She didn’t even attempt to hide her sarcasm. ‘Obviously I become a little argumentative when a man is blackmailing me into his bed!’

Cesare’s breath hissed from between his clenched teeth. ‘Your primary roles as my wife will be as Marco’s mother and as my lover!’

‘I don’t wish to become your lover at all!’ Robin told him with conviction, even as her body warmed in betrayal of her claim.

‘All evidence is to the contrary, my dear Robin.’ Cesare raised an eyebrow.

‘Bastard!’ she breathed furiously, stung by his confidence. ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard!’ she repeated recklessly, and she stood up to glare down at him. ‘I dislike you intensely, Cesare Gambrelli—’

‘Perhaps you should once again show me how much you dislike me, Robin?’ he invited, as he too stood up to move purposefully around the table towards her.

Too far. She had gone too far, Robin acknowledged as she began to back away from him.

She had meant to get him to listen to her, to have him take her requests seriously, not provoke him into this totally physical response.

Hadn’t she?

As her pulse leapt, the breath caught in her throat, and Cesare’s mouth captured hers in a kiss that was hot, hungry and sensually demanding, allowing her no opportunity to deny her own response.

His tongue slid intimately into her mouth, stirring her body into throbbing awareness, and Robin wasn’t sure what she had intended any more—only knew that she didn’t want this to stop, that she needed this man’s lovemaking in a way she had never needed or wanted any other man.

Her lips widened and she kissed him back hungrily, her hands becoming entwined in the dark thickness of his hair as she held him to her, her tongue duelling with his as she pressed her body into him.

Fire. This woman was pure, molten fire. And Cesare wanted to lose himself in her flames. As he wanted her to lose herself in the inferno that raged inside him.

He deepened his kiss and freed Robin’s hair once again to entangle his hand in its silky scentedness. His other hand moved the length of her body restlessly as he touched and caressed her slender curves. Feeling her quiver of response, he raised the hem of her dress and began to caress a path upwards.

She breathed low in her throat as his hand touched the bare flesh above her stockings, that sigh becoming a groan as that hand moved assuredly towards the warmth between her thighs.

Cesare’s fingers easily pushed aside the silk of her panties, and he touched the silky curls before moving unerringly to the centre of her desire, touching her, feeling the way she instantly blossomed and opened to him.

Wet. Robin was so wet. So wet and ready.

Cesare continued to kiss her as he untangled his other hand from her hair, moving that hand to the back of her dress, lowering the zip down the length of her spine to allow the dress to fall in a heap at her sandalled feet. He bared the pert arousal of her breasts to his caress, finding she fitted perfectly into the palm of his hand. His thumb moved to caress the fiery peak, and he could feel the moistness increase between her thighs as his fingers stroked the throbbing nub of her arousal.

Robin had been lost from the first touch of Cesare’s mouth on hers—had no will to fight the volcanic passion that had been burning barely beneath the surface between them all evening. Her breathing was shallow as Cesare moved his mouth from hers and bent to capture her hardened nipple between his lips, teeth and tongue, tasting before he suckled her deeply into the heat of his mouth, at the same time as his finger moved into the heat between her thighs.

Her breath became a sob as she moved rhythmically against him, the earthquake building deep within her, increasing her thrusts against him as her shuddering release convulsed around and against his stroking hand—a release that seemed to go on and on as Cesare continued those caresses, filling her whole body with a bone-melting pleasure that she never wanted to stop …

CHAPTER SIX

WAS THERE ANY dignified way in which she could extract herself from this situation, Robin wondered with aching embarrassment seconds later, as her composure slowly returned to her.

No, there wasn’t, she decided, feeling a cringing awkwardness at her total lack of control. For one thing, she was wearing only panties, stockings and her evening sandals, while Cesare was still dressed in his black silk shirt and trousers.

Not that he looked completely together, she realised, as she looked at him from beneath lowered lashes: his shirt was unbuttoned where her questing fingers had sought to touch his bare flesh, and his dark, overlong hair was slightly tousled from the way those same fingers had become entangled in its thickness as she’d clung to him. There was a flush of arousal on his high cheekbones.

An arousal that he hadn’t satisfied.

That she hadn’t satisfied!

It might have been some time since she’d known a man intimately, but she knew she had never been a selfish lover, that a lack of physical consideration for her partner was not something Giles had ever been able to accuse her of.