Bound By His Vow: His Final Bargain / The Rings That Bind / Marriage Made of Secrets

Eliza felt his anger. It was billowing in the air between them like invisible smoke. It sucked all the oxygen out of the room until she found it hard to breathe. She had overstepped the mark. She had let her emotions gallop out of control. She had revealed her vulnerability to him.

‘Isn’t jealousy a little inconsistent of you, given you’re wearing another man’s ring?’ he asked in a deceptively calm tone.

She forced herself to hold his gaze. ‘Relationships are not meant to be business contracts. You can’t do that to people. It’s not right.’

His lip curled mockingly. ‘Let me get this straight—you’re telling me what’s right and wrong?’

She drew in a sharp breath to try to harness her spiralling emotions. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s none of my business who you see or what arrangements you make in order to see them.’

‘You’re damn right it’s none of your business.’

Eliza bit down on her lip as he strode out of the room, flinching when he clipped the door shut behind him. The sound of his car roaring to life outside was like a glancing blow to her heart. She listened to him drive out of the villa grounds, her imagination already torturing her with where he was going and what he would be doing when he got there.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_5226a671-dd78-54a9-8698-9a2b638b7b1e)

LEO UNMOORED HIS motor launch and motored out to a favourite spot where he could look back at the twinkling lights fringing the Amalfi coast. He dropped anchor and sat on the deck, listening to the gentle slap of the water against the hull and the musical clanging of the rigging against the mast of a distant yacht as the onshore breeze passed through. A gibbous moon cast a silver glow across the crinkled surface of the ocean. It was the closest he got to peace these days, out here on the water.

It was laughably ironic that Eliza thought he was off bedding a mistress. He hadn’t been with anyone since Giulia had died ten months ago. Not that his relationship with her had been fulfilling in that department. He had tried to make it work a couple of times in the early days, but he had always known she was lying there wishing he were someone else.

Hadn’t he done the same?

He hadn’t wanted to hurt her by treating her as a substitute, so in the end they had agreed on a sexless arrangement. He could have had affairs; Giulia had told him to do whatever he had to do and she would turn a blind eye, but he hadn’t pursued it. He had the normal urges of any other man his age, but he had ignored them to focus on his responsibilities as a parent and his ever-demanding career.

But his physical reaction to Eliza was a pretty potent reminder that he couldn’t go on ignoring the needs of his body. He had wanted her so badly it had taken every ounce of self-control not to back her up against the nearest wall and do what they both did so well together. His groin was still tingling with the sensation of her body jammed tightly against his. He had felt the soft press of her beautiful breasts against his chest. He had desperately wanted to cover her mouth with his, to rediscover those sensual contours, to taste the hot sweetness of her.

He had intended to keep his distance during her short stay. He had been so confident he would be able to keep things on a business level between them. But, reflecting on it now, he could see how that call from Kathleen when he was in London for his meeting had completely thrown him. He was used to having his life carefully controlled. His domestic arrangements ran like clockwork. He had come to rely heavily on his staff, almost forgetting they had lives and families and issues of their own. When Kathleen had begged him for some time off he’d had to think on his feet and the first person he had thought of was Eliza. He’d told himself it was because she was a talented teacher and used to handling difficult and needy children. But what if the subconscious part of him had made the decision for a completely different reason?

He still wanted her.

Who was he kidding? Of course he still wanted her. But would a month be enough to end this torment that plagued him? Those three weeks he’d had with her had never left his memory. He could recall almost every passionate moment they had spent together. The memory of her body lived in his flesh. When he looked at her he felt his blood stir. He felt his heart rate rise. He felt his skin tingle in anticipation of her silky touch. The need to possess her was a persistent ache. Seeing her again had brought it all back. The blistering passion she evoked in him. The heat and fire of her response that made him feel as if she was his perfect mate—that there was no one else out there who could make him feel the way she did. It was going to be impossible to ignore the desire he had for her when every time he came within touching distance of her his body reacted so powerfully.

But wouldn’t an affair with her create more problems, which he could do without right now?

On the other hand, he was used to compartmentalising his life. He could file his relationship with her into the temporary basket. Wasn’t that what she would want? It wasn’t as if she was going to end her engagement for him. She’d had four years to do so and yet she hadn’t.

He didn’t understand how she could sell herself so short. What was she getting out of her relationship with her fiancé that she couldn’t get with him? He had offered her riches beyond measure, a lifetime of love and commitment, and yet she had thrown it back in his face. Why? What tied her to a man who still hadn’t married her? He didn’t even live with her. What hold did he have over her? Or was Eliza keeping a ‘fiancé’ up her sleeve so she could flit in and out of any shallow little hook-up that took her fancy? The ring she wore didn’t look like a modern design. What if she just wore it for show? What if it was her get-out prop? ‘Sorry, but I’m already taken’ was a very good way of getting out of a relationship that had run its course. She might have picked the ring up at a pawn shop for all he knew. If there was an actual fiancé Leo was almost certain she wasn’t in love with him. How could she be when she looked at him with such raw longing? He was sure he wasn’t imagining it. From the first moment he had laid eyes on her he had felt an electric connection that was beyond anything he had felt before or since.

But this time he wouldn’t be offering her anything but an affair. He gave a twisted smile. A shallow hook-up was what he would offer. He would set the rules. He would set the boundaries and he would enforce them if he had to. He would not think about the morality of it. If she was willing to betray her fiancé—if there was one—then it was nothing to do with him.

She could always say no.

By two a.m. Eliza had given up on the notion of sleeping. It wasn’t the jetlag or the strange bed. It was the restlessness of her body that was keeping her from slumber. A milky drink usually did the trick but could she risk running into Leo by going downstairs to get one? She hadn’t heard him return, but then, why would he need to? He had plenty of staff to keep his household running while he indulged in an off-site affair with his latest mistress.

Eliza slipped on a wrap and went downstairs. There was enough moonlight coming in through the windows to light her way. Just as she was taking the last step down, the front door opened. She gave a little startled gasp and put her hand up to the throat where her heart seemed to have jumped. ‘Leo?’

He gave her a wry look. ‘Who else were you expecting?’

Eliza pursed her lips. ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone. And I wasn’t waiting up for you, either.’

A mocking glint shone in his dark eyes. ‘Of course not.’

She jutted her chin at him. ‘I was on my way to the kitchen to get a hot drink.’

‘Don’t let me stop you.’

Eliza looked at his tousled hair. Bed hair. Just had wild sex hair. It maddened her to think he could just waltz in and parade his sexual conquests like a badge of honour. ‘How was your evening? Did it live up to your expectations?’

Even in the muted light she could see the way his mouth was slanted with a cat-that-got-the-canary smile. ‘It was very pleasurable.’

Jealousy was like an arrow to her belly. How could he stand there and be so…so blatant about it?

‘I just bet it was.’

‘You would know.’

Her brows shot together. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

His smile had tilted even further to give him a devilish look. ‘You’ve had first-hand experience at spending many a pleasurable evening with me, have you not?’

Eliza tightened her mouth. She didn’t want to be reminded of the nights she had spent rolling and screaming with pleasure in his bed. She had spent the last four years trying to forget. She threw him a dismissive look. ‘Sorry to burst the bubble on your ego, but you haven’t left that much of an impression on me. I can barely recall anything about our affair other than I was relieved when it was over.’

‘You’re lying.’

Eliza gave him a flinty glare. ‘That’s what really irks you, isn’t it, Leo? It still rankles even after all this time. I was the first woman to ever say no to you. You could have anyone you wanted but you couldn’t have me.’

‘I could have you.’ His eyes burned with primal intent. ‘I could have you right now and we both know it.’

She gave a scornful laugh that belied the shockingly shaky ground she was desperately trying to stand on. ‘I’d like to see you try.’

His eyes scorched hers as he closed the distance between them in a lazy stroll that sent an anticipatory shiver dancing down the length of her spine. She knew that look. It made her blood race through the circuitry of her veins like high-octane fuel. It made her heart thud with excitement and her legs tremble like a tripod on an uneven floor. It made her core clench with an ache that had no cure other than the driving force of his body.

He took her by the upper arms, his fingers digging into her flesh with almost brutal strength. ‘You should know me well enough by now to know how foolish it is to throw a gauntlet down like that before me.’

Eliza suppressed another little shiver as she flashed him a defiant look. ‘I’m not scared of you.’

His fingers tightened even further as he jerked her hard against him. ‘Then perhaps you should be.’ And then his mouth swooped down and slammed against hers.

It was a bruising kiss but Eliza was beyond caring. The crush of his mouth on hers brought all of her suppressed longings to the surface of her body like lava out of a volcano. She felt the raw need on her lips where his were pressed so forcefully. She felt it in her breasts as they were pushed up against his chest. She felt it unfurling deep in her core, that twisting, twirling, torturous ache that was moving throughout her body at breakneck speed.

How had she gone for so long without feeling this feverish rush of passion? It was like waking up after a decade of sleep. Every pore of her skin was alive and sensitised. Every muscle and sinew was crying out for the stroke and glide of his touch.

His tongue stroked hers until she was whimpering at the back of her throat. His hands were still hard on her upper arms, his fingertips gripping her with bruising force, but she relished in the feel of his commanding hold. His proudly aroused body was pressed intimately against her. She felt the hard ridge of him against the femininity of her body. The barrier of their clothes was torture. She wanted him naked and inside her, filling her, stretching her—making her feel alive in a way no one else could. She moved against him, speaking in a silent and primal feminine language that was universal.

But, instead of answering the call to mate, he dropped his hold and pulled back from her. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as if to remove the taste of her. It was a deliberately insulting gesture and she wanted to slap him for it. But she would rather die than show him how much he had hurt her.

‘You’ve certainly got the Neanderthal routine down pat,’ she said, pushing back her hair with a flick of her hand. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t haul me upstairs by the hair to your lair.’

His dark eyes mocked her. ‘Surprised or disappointed?’