Kitabı oku: «Claimed by the Sicilian», sayfa 6
But now was not the time. Already the uniformed major domo provided by the hotel had spotted them and, opening the door, was looking at them enquiringly. He even gave a discreet little cough to get their attention.
With a savage effort, Guido wrenched himself away from the kiss and turned just in time to see the man’s obvious astonishment and confusion.
‘I’m sorry…’ he began stumblingly. ‘I thought…’
His bewildered eyes went to Amber, taking in the long white dress and the veil.
‘Mr St Clair is already here,’ he said, frowning in puzzlement. ‘I understood…’
‘It’s all right,’ Guido reassured him. ‘There’s been a change of plan.’
Stepping forward, he murmured swift instructions in the man’s ear. A generous tip slipped into his hand eased some of the remaining discomfort in his face.
‘You understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
With a curt nod of satisfaction, Guido turned back to Amber.
This was it, he told himself. This was when he put into place the last part of his plan to make sure that Amber and the St Clair family parted for ever and went their separate ways. After this, there would be no chance at all that they would want her to marry any one of them. And that was exactly how he’d planned it.
After tonight, Amber Wellesley would be all his.
‘Come…’
Once more her hand was enclosed in his. Once more she was obliged to move forward with him or risk embarrassment.
The double doors to the ballroom were flung open and, with Amber stumbling apprehensively at his side, Guido strode forward to stand firmly in the middle of the carpeted landing at the top of the short flight of stairs that curved its way down into the huge blue and gold ballroom.
And there he stopped. Stood still and silent, his spine straight, his shoulders back, dark head held arrogantly high.
Stood and watched and waited as first one person and then another noticed their arrival. Conversations died. Women elbowed each other in the ribs to draw their attention to what was happening. Men stared then nodded furiously in the direction of the sight.
And like the sea rushing away on an ebbing tide, the buzz of chatter stilled, a deathly silence fell, and eventually every eye in the room was turned on them.
Only when the silence was complete did Guido move. Turning slightly towards the man who was hovering at his back, he gave another small, commanding nod.
Immediately the maître d’ moved forward, cleared his throat.
‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ he announced into the frozen silence, his words seeming to make the air shatter as he spoke. ‘I give you—the—the bride and groom. Mr and Mrs Guido Corsentino.’
CHAPTER SIX
THIS is your room, madam.’
‘Thank you.’
Amber waited until the maid who had shown her to the room on the second floor of the hotel had retreated before she slid the key card into the lock and waited for the light to turn green.
She had just endured the worst few minutes of her life. She had been peered at, examined, looked up and down.
She had had to watch in disbelief as, on Guido’s orders, bottles of vintage champagne appeared from the hotel’s cellars and were opened. Glasses were filled with a lavish hand, and to her horrified amazement Guido announced that he hoped that everyone there would drink a toast, ‘To my reunion with my beautiful bride.’
They were frightened of him, she realised on a sense of mind-blowing shock. Terrified of what he might do and—yes—there was a little touch of admiration there, a grudging respect that kept their tongues on the right side of civil, no matter what their minds might have been thinking.
In his all-black outfit, Guido prowled amongst them like a sleek black panther wandering lazily through a huge flock of birds of paradise. A sleek black smiling panther who was obviously enjoying himself while they all waited and watched, frozen in apprehension, not daring to make a move in case it was the wrong one and drove the jungle cat to pounce with deadly intent.
But Amber couldn’t find any cause for enjoyment of anything in the whole ordeal. To her, every second was an endurance test, her worst nightmare ever come true and actually existing in the real world. She didn’t even have the hope that she might wake and find it all behind her. To make matters worse, the elegant white satin shoes were beginning to pinch unmercifully, a brutal, pounding ache had set up in her head, and she felt as if someone had put a hard steel band around her temples and was slowly twisting it tighter and tighter.
So it was with a rush of intense release that she saw Guido beckon one of the staff to him and obviously make some sort of request. A moment later he had come close to her, touched her lightly on the arm.
‘It’s time you left now,’ he said in a tone that made it clear it was not a suggestion but a command. ‘This young lady will take you to your room—where your clothes and your cases are. Get changed and wait for me there.’
She had been so relieved at being released, at escaping from the torment of the reception that should have been hers and Rafe’s but that had, like her wedding, been hijacked and completely overturned by Guido’s intervention, that she fled from the room, like a bird freed from its cage, seeking the sanctuary of the haven provided for her.
‘Well, you have done well for yourself, haven’t you?’ a drawling voice said close by, jolting her out of her thoughts and making her look up into a familiar pair of cold blue eyes.
Of course. Rafe must have left his going-away clothes in the room next door and by some appalling stroke of fortune he had been coming out of his room just as she had reached hers. He had already changed out of his formal morning coat and was now dressed in the elegantly cut suit and silk shirt he had planned to travel in.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Amber tried twisting the door handle, but the light on the lock had already gone out. She would have to take out the key card and insert it once again.
‘She doesn’t know what I mean,’ Rafe echoed cynically, coming close and lounging back against the wall. ‘Why, setting yourself up with a handsome Italian billionaire who could buy us all in the blink of an eye, of course. If that’s not doing well for yourself, I don’t know what is. So tell me,’ he went on, not giving her a chance to speak, or even to think. ‘Was that what our marriage was all about, hmm? A way of bringing him to heel after you’d split up?’
‘Of course not,’ Amber insisted.
She’d no way of knowing where he’d got the idea that Guido was a billionaire, but she had to put him right on that. But Rafe wasn’t interested in listening to her. All he cared about was the sound of his own voice.
‘Well, you may have just done me a favour too, in the end, so I reckon we’ll just call it quits.’
And then, to her total shock and consternation, he did the last thing she had expected. Looking straight into her face, he actually smiled, though it was the most peculiar, most alien smile that Amber had ever seen. It hadn’t touched his eyes, which had remained as cold and ice-blue as a frozen floe in the Arctic.
‘At least with my heart having been broken so publicly this way,’ he went on, resting one long-fingered hand on the breast pocket of his elegant jacket just above where the heart in question lay, ‘no one will expect me to even think about marrying another woman for some time. And that suits me perfectly. So enjoy your Italian, darling—and I’ll enjoy my freedom.’
And with an airy wave he was gone, stepping swiftly into the lift and shutting the door right in her face.
Amber was still standing staring at the polished lift doors in shock, when the second lift just near by arrived at the second floor, opened, and Guido stepped out onto the green-carpeted corridor. A dark frown creased the space between his brows when he saw her.
‘You’re not ready. You’ve not even started to get changed.’
Guido’s tone was sharp and, coming on top of her private thoughts, it caught right on a raw edge of an exposed nerve.
‘Just because I’m your wife, it doesn’t mean I have to jump when you click your fingers.’
And then, because it was the question that was uppermost in her mind, the one that just wouldn’t stop fretting at her thoughts—
‘Why, Guido? Tell me why.’
At least he had the grace not to pretend he didn’t know what she meant. But he moved to unlock the door to her room, taking her by the arm and hurrying her into it before he stopped to answer her.
‘I told you—I wanted them to see you were with me. That you’re my wife.’
Amber crossed to the big, high, king-sized bed and sank down on it with a long, low sigh that was a blend of exhaustion and total despair
‘Wouldn’t the pictures in the paper tomorrow—and your “statement” tonight—have done the job as well?’
‘I don’t think so. I wanted them to see it with their own eyes. And I wanted to see their faces when I did so.’
‘You mean that you wanted to parade me in front of them like some sort of trophy!’
‘If you choose to see it that way,’ Guido dismissed her anger carelessly.
‘And what possible other way is there to see it?’
‘That I wanted to make sure they never got their hands on you again.’
‘Did you really think that after what happened, Rafe would even consider asking me to marry him again?’ Amber couldn’t hide her incredulity and it rang sharply in her voice.
‘He’ll have to come through me first.’
‘Well, from the way that Rafe just behaved I have very little doubt that isn’t going to happen.’
‘The way that…’
Guido’s head went back, his eyes narrowing sharply.
‘Has he said something?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Hurt you?’
‘Hurt me? No, he didn’t hurt me but…I think I need to talk to him.’
‘No!’
Moving further into the room, Guido kicked the door behind him, heard it slam and the lock click into place. ‘You will not speak to St Clair!’
But his tone had been too hard, his attitude too forceful. He could see it in the way that her chin came up, defiance flashing in her eyes, her jaw firming stubbornly.
‘And why not?’
‘Because I asked you to come up here to change your clothes so that we could leave as soon as possible.’
‘You didn’t ask—you ordered.’
‘And you really want to spend the rest of the day dressed up like a pantomime princess.’
‘You don’t like this dress?’
He’d intrigued her now and he welcomed the way it distracted her thoughts from wandering down paths he didn’t want her to follow. She smoothed a hand over the silken skirts of her wedding gown, frowning thoughtfully.
‘It’s very beautiful,’ Amber said.
‘I preferred the dress you wore for our wedding.’
‘That simple thing? It was just something I’d picked up from a chain store.’
But she’d looked amazing in it. She had looked so sweet and innocent, excited and yet nervous, anticipating her wedding day with such joy that it was just bubbling out of her. At least, that was what he had thought at first.
It was only later that he had realised how much she regretted what she had done, when a better opportunity—a more aristocratic suitor—a wealthier suitor, she believed—had come along.
‘This is a designer original—it cost a small fortune. I would never have been able to afford it by myself, of course. But Rafe offered to pay for it…’
‘He did what?’
It was the last thing Guido wanted to hear. He detested the idea of anything that man had provided touching her. The thought of Rafe St Clair sent his blood pressure spiking, made him feel nauseous with fury. Though that was nothing to the way he had felt when he had first learned just whom St Clair planned to marry.
But then, why was he surprised? Hadn’t she left him for just that sort of reason? Because she wanted the sort of man who could provide her with designer originals? He had never been more thankful that he hadn’t told her the full truth about himself. If he had, then she might have stayed with him for all the wrong reasons.
‘Take it off!’
‘What?’ Her eyes widened in shock.
‘Take that dress off.’
‘With you standing there?’ Amber shook her head sharply. ‘No way! At least have the decency to leave the room.’
If he went out that door, he wouldn’t stop until he found St Clair and ripped his head from his shoulders, the way he was feeling right now. Fighting the urge to do just that, Guido flung himself down in the chair that stood in the wide bay window.
‘I’m your husband and there’s nothing I haven’t seen. Take it off, Amber, or I’ll tear it off you myself.’
The look she flung him was one of total loathing but he let it bounce off the shield of restraint he had put up around himself. Whether Amber liked it or not, staying was definitely the safer option.
Or was it?
With another blazing, fulminating glare in his direction, Amber got to her feet and deliberately turned her back on him. Once again he was presented with the view of her he had seen as he entered the church. And once again he knew the twisting, primitive hunger low down in his gut.
It was worse this time. Worse in so many ways.
Then he had only seen her back view, in the white silk dress, with the long lace veil falling down from the crown of her head. He hadn’t seen her, hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t touched her for months. But the long-ago memories had been bad enough.
Now he had newer memories to add to those long-ago ones. Now he was tormented by the recollection of how it had felt to hold her in his arms, to know the soft, warm pressure of her slender frame up against his; how it had felt to kiss her. If he slicked his tongue over his lips he could still taste the sweetness of her there. The scent of her perfume was still in his nostrils.
And the claw of lust was harder than ever before.
‘Want any help?’ Guido offered.
‘No!’
Did she know what she was doing to him with those small, sensual, wriggling movements? Rationally, he knew they were designed to enable her to reach the handle of the long zip at the back of the dress, ease it down. But the effect they were having on him was very, very far from rational.
She’d got the damned zip down partway now. Far enough down to reveal the bones and lace of some corset type of underwear. Underwear that exposed the delicate pink of her skin above and that skimmed downwards towards the narrow line of her waist, the sensual swell of her hips. And still she kept up those little movements, twisting, arching her back as she struggled to reach the bit right in the middle of her back.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive. You come near me and I’ll—Ouch!’
It was a sharp, instinctive cry of pain and it had him out of his chair in a second, taking a step forward hastily and then freezing sharply, trying to assess the situation; see what had happened.
Amber too had stilled, one hand halfway up her back from below, the other reaching from her shoulder, both of them straining for and not quite reaching the small white handle of the fine zip fastener. Her head was also pulled slightly back, held at an unnatural angle.
‘The veil has caught in the zip. That’s why it won’t move down.’
‘I know!’ It was a sound of frustrated exasperation, hissed out from between gritted teeth. ‘But I can manage.’
‘Of course you can.’ He deliberately laced the words with sarcasm.
‘I can—I just need to…Ouch!’
And then it came, muffled, uneven, and very low.
‘Guido…please…’
He was at her side in a moment, bending to the spot where the delicate lace of her veil had snagged in the runners of the zip fastening. He could see now why she had been exclaiming in pain. Not only had the veil caught, but it was pulled tight, dragging her head back, tugging against the ornate hairstyle, the fine tiara too, in a way that must have been desperately uncomfortable. And each time she moved she only entangled herself further, adding to her discomfort.
‘Hold still.’
The best thing to do was to remove the tiara and the veil. With them loose…
His fingers were busy as his thoughts, reaching for and pulling out the hundreds of pins, or so it seemed, that held the headdress in place. Soft tendrils of hair fell about his hands as he worked. They stroked his face in silken caresses, soft as the touch of her hands. The heated scent of her body rose up to surround him, tugging on his senses, making him even harder than before so that he swore softly and savagely in his own language.
‘What?’
Amber heard him mutter but the sound was muffled by the way he had his head bent, his attention apparently focused on disentangling her from the veil and the headdress.
‘What did you say?’
No answer. He really was concentrating on what he was doing. And for that she should be grateful.
If he was absorbed in extricating her from the tangled veil and headdress, then he wouldn’t notice the way her colour came and went as heat suffused her body and then fled from it, leaving her cold and shivery as if she was in the grip of a fever. Her heart was pounding so hard that she was sure he must hear it, even through the boned and stiffened basque she wore underneath the silk dress. Her breath was ragged and uneven, and her head swam so that she swayed uncertainly on her feet, her eyes staring, unfocused, at the opposite wall.
His touch on her hair was soft but sure; it felt like a caress even though she knew that was not what he meant it to be.
Admit it! she reproached herself. Admit that you want it to be a caress. That you have wanted him to touch you—to caress you—ever since that kiss in the church.
That kiss.
Her skin flamed, her senses yearning, just to remember it. It was as if that kiss had swept away all the intervening days and months since she had walked out on Guido and their marriage. She had spent a long year trying to get over him and it had taken just one touch, one kiss and she was right back where she had started. Back in the yearning hunger, the demanding passion that his touch sparked in every nerve in her body. Back in the throes of the powerful sexual need that this man—and only this man—could awaken in her.
She’d grabbed back the vulnerable heart she’d given him, and guarded it from him ever since she had discovered his duplicity and his callousness, but the truth was that she was only safe from her sexual enslavement to Guido Corsentino while he was thousands of miles away, safely out of her life.
He had merely to walk back into her world and she was lost again. Adrift on a heated sea of longing and need without a compass or any sort of guiding star. The only recognisable landmark on her horizon was Guido himself. And, like the compass needle that was always pulled to the north, she was drawn to him whether she wanted to be or not.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘STAY still, cara,’ Guido advised as the shocking realisation made her jump nervously, wanting to jerk away from his touch and yet longing to stay right where she was. ‘Almost done…There.’
The release of the pull on her scalp told Amber that the veil was free, the headdress off and she sighed in relief as she felt it fall to the floor. But the next moment the sense of tension was back again, but in a very different way. This time it was screaming through every nerve of her body as Guido straightened up and, instead of moving away, took a step closer.
He was still behind her and she could feel the heat from his body reaching out to her, surrounding her. Where the back of her dress hung open, revealing her shoulders, her spine, she could feel tiny prickles of awareness start to shiver over her skin in anticipation of a touch she yearned for so much that she could almost will herself to feel it.
‘Thank you,’ she managed, her voice croaking.
‘É niente…’
It was so soft it was just a breath, a warm breath that feathered along every nerve, whispered over the exposed flesh of her back. She felt her throat close, her mouth dry. She couldn’t have moved if she tried. But she didn’t want to try.
Touch me! her mind screamed silently. Please, please, touch me!
She had stopped breathing. Stopped thinking…
And then she felt it.
Felt the touch, the lightest, softest, warmest touch of fingertips brushing her skin. Felt the feather-light movement of a caress that traced the line of her spine, from the nape of her neck, down to where her skin disappeared under the white lace edge of the basque.
Down. Softly, slowly…
And then it stopped. Lingered with just the pressure of a single finger on her skin.
‘Shall I help you with the rest?’ Guido said and she knew that he was not just asking about easing the zip all the way down.
‘Please…’
Oh, please…
His touch was so light that she barely felt the zip move down, only knew that it had by the loosening of the bodice of her dress, the way that it slid off her shoulders, slipped halfway down her arms. In the front, it gaped over her breasts, the neckline dipping lower and lower, but she couldn’t even find the strength to raise a hand to support it, to hold it concealingly to her.
Behind her she heard Guido sigh, then his hands closed over her hips, holding her firmly. Her skin prickled with awareness as she felt him come closer, closer…
The touch of his mouth on her skin was like a lightning bolt through her, making her breath hiss from her lungs, her eyes close. In the darkness, that tiny, heated point of contact burned like a searing brand against her skin, for all it was so soft and gentle.
‘Bellissima…’ Guido murmured against her spine, kissing his way down each vertebra, tracing the path his fingers had followed earlier. ‘Amata…’
Amber felt as if she was melting. As if every part of her was being flooded by the heated honey sensation between her legs, reaching out to set the rest of her body on fire.
‘Guido…’
She didn’t know if she actually spoke his name aloud or if it was just part of the litany of need inside her head. Every part of her was focused on the spot where his mouth wreaked a devastating magic on her skin.
‘Amber…’
She had forgotten the way he spoke her name when in the heat of passion. Forgotten the way that the syllables were long-drawn-out, the way that the final R was rolled until the sound became just a tiger’s purr.
Amberrrrr…
‘Amber, tesora—turn round. Turn to me—let me see your face.’
She had no power to resist the murmured enticement, had no will but to do as he said. Why not, when it was what she most wanted in the entire world too?
And so she turned, slowly, sensuously, feeling his gaze on her as she moved. And when she finally came full circle, when she was facing him, still within the confines of his arms, she saw the fierce burn of need that glittered in the darkness of his eyes.
‘The dress…’ he said harshly, the rawness of his voice scraping over highly sensitised nerves.
He didn’t complete the sentence, but Amber needed nothing more. Slowly uncurling her fingers from their hold on the white silk, she let it fall, softly slithering its way down her body to land in a glistening pool around her feet. Without its covering, she stood, proudly exposed in just the white basque and a sliver of lace beneath that, covering the chestnut curls between her thighs. The finest, most delicate whispers of stockings were supported by a matching suspender belt.
‘Cara…’
It was just a whisper of sound and Guido closed his eyes briefly. Just for a moment. But it was quite long enough for Amber to lose her mind completely. Lose her mind, lose her restraint, lose any last remaining shreds of common sense and self-preservation. She didn’t know what drove her, didn’t understand what pushed her forward, only knew that it was an impulse, a need she couldn’t resist.
She was hungry, yearning and empty inside, aching with a need that his touch had awoken, his kisses had brought spiralling to the surface. She had felt his mouth on her skin, his touch on her body. Now she needed, so desperately, to kiss and touch and taste and feel for herself.
Needed to kiss and touch and taste and feel the essence that was purely Guido.
Before her brain had even registered the thought, she had taken the couple of steps forward that brought her up close to him. Her breathing fast and shallow, her mind spinning, she lifted her head, pressed her mouth to the hard plane of his cheek, feeling the raw scrape of stubble against the sensitive flesh of her lips.
He smelled wonderful; he tasted even better. She let her tongue slip out; let it touch against his skin. Tasted the slightly salt flavour of him.
And saw his eyes fly open, look down into hers.
If she had thought that they seemed to have been turned black by desire before, now they were even deeper and darker than ever. But they gleamed like burnished metal, burning into hers with hungry fire.
Just for a moment that hunger startled her, made a quiver of something that was close to fear run through her. Never before, even when they were married, had he shown so openly, so shockingly, the searing passion he felt for her. It terrified her in the same moment that it excited her, so that she made to take a step back…
And stopped dead as his arm came out, fastening around her neck, pulling her closer. His mouth came down on hers, crushing it, taking it, making her his again.
That was the only thought that went through her head before her mind stopped functioning and sensation took over. I’m his and only his. I don’t want anyone else. Don’t want to be with anyone else. This is what I want—this is what I need.
This is what I am.
But the next kiss drove any rational thought from her head. The fierce, sizzling strength of it took her mind and shattered it, left her only able to function on the most basic, most primitive level. The level of pure physical need and nothing more.
Her mouth opened under his, allowing the silken heat of his tongue to invade and plunder, taking, tasting, teasing, tantalising. And she went right with it. Giving back everything she could in return, matching need for need, hunger for hunger.
She barely noticed when Guido snatched her up. Wasn’t aware of the way that he shrugged off his jacket as he carried her towards the bed. Her arms were clasped tight around his neck, her mouth locked with his as they fell together onto the goldcoloured covers, her shoes tumbling to the floor as they did so.
‘It’s been too long…too long…way too long…’ Guido muttered as he kissed his way along her jawline, over her cheek, back to her mouth.
He didn’t stop to ask if it was what she wanted too. Didn’t need to. They both knew the question had been asked, the answer given in that first moment when she’d turned to him. And again when she had let the dress drop. And when she had stepped into his space, kissed him on the cheek. From that point on there had been no going back and both of them knew it.
‘I have waited too long…’
‘Mmm…’
It was all that Amber could manage, the unformed sound catching in her throat as he came down on top of her, his mouth taking hers again, hands roaming over her body, seeking, stroking, finding pleasure spots she had forgotten existed, ones she could have sworn that even she hadn’t known about before. Excitement rushed through her, fizzing, burning, stinging like an electric current, making her tug hard at his shirt, wrench the buttons from their fastenings.
‘I’m wearing too many clothes…’ It was a moan of complaint, of protest, and she felt rather than heard the dark laughter that shook his long body.
‘Too many clothes, perhaps,’ he told her huskily, ‘but then again, I think I like it. I like this amazing contraption you’re wearing—love the way it pushes your breasts out—everything on display for my eyes…’
They burned into her skin, his gaze almost a physical touch in itself.
‘My hands…’
Hot fingers stroked the exposed pale flesh of her breasts, curving over them, cupping them above and then below, lifting them even higher.
‘And my mouth…’
Suiting action to the words, he bent to the soft skin, letting first his lips, then his tongue slide over her quivering breasts, finally letting his teeth graze the delicate curves, making her moan aloud in excitement.
His hands were at her sides, moving over the boned bodice, shaping the narrow curve of her waist. Then up again, his touch growing heavier, more urgent, hard fingers slipping into the lacy cups, finding her swollen nipples, rolling them between a forefinger and thumb.
‘Guido…!’
His name was a gasp of shock, a sound of delight, a moan of encouragement all in one. ‘You like that, mia bellezza?’
Guido punctuated the words with hot kisses over the curve of one breast and then the other, then back again.
‘You want more?’
‘Oh, yes…yes…I want…I want you.’
‘Soon, carissima, soon.’
Another kiss took her yearning mouth, giving her something of what she needed and yet promising so much more that it fed her hunger even as it appeased it.
‘First…’
Hooking his thumbs over the lacy edge of the white silk basque, he pulled it down, exposing her breasts to his arousing touch and his even more exciting mouth. Moaning aloud again, Amber moved her head restlessly on the fine cotton of the pillows, arching her back, pressing herself against his mouth so that the sensations were increased, making her head spin with pleasure.
But she didn’t just want to feel. She wanted to touch, to match him caress for caress. She wanted to know the heat and softness of his skin, to have the power of his muscles, the hardness of bone under her fingertips.
‘Too many clothes…’ she muttered again complainingly, her hand clutching at his shirt, tugging, twisting, trying to wrench it from him.
