Boss Meets Baby(83)

Whatever happened with Vito, in years to come she would tell her child how happy Giovanni had been, knowing his grandchild was on the way. She would remember the stories he had told her, so that her child would know about his or her Italian family—even if Vito still refused to acknowledge them.

Vito paced back and forth across his study impatiently. He’d come home to see Lily, but she hadn’t returned from her daily visit to his grandfather.

She was late. And he wanted to see her now.

He’d spent the morning totally distracted, until finally he’d given into his desire to come home and ravish her.

Sex with Lily had always been good, but last night they had taken it to a new level. It had been utterly mindblowing,— and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all morning. Thinking about doing it again and again.

He strode over to the window, cursing himself for his lack of control.

Why was he letting Lily get to him so badly? Was it simply that he’d been too long without a woman, and now last night had reminded his body what it had been missing?

He looked at his watch, wondering again what time she would return. Perhaps he should go out in search of her, but although Ca’ Salvatore wasn’t far away there were several routes she could take home.

Suddenly he found himself questioning why she kept visiting Giovanni even though she knew there was no future in it. What did she hope to gain, either for herself or for her child?

He hadn’t stopped her visits because his grandfather seemed to really enjoy them. But it puzzled him that Lily genuinely seemed to enjoy them too.

She wasn’t like the other women he’d known. That was part of what had attracted him to her in the first place.

She really didn’t seem interested in his wealth and status. Spending time together was all she’d ever really wanted from him.

The thought troubled him, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, determined to get himself back under control.

It was later than usual when Lily got home. As she climbed the stairs to the first floor of the palazzo, a strange feeling prickled down her spine, as if she was being watched.

‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

Startled, despite the fact her senses had warned her Vito was close, she stopped mid-step and looked up to see him standing outside his study.

The sight of him lounging nonchalantly against the door-jamb, oozing self-assurance and sex appeal from every inch of his incredible body, sent her pulse racing. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt butterflies start to flutter wildly in her stomach.

‘I’ve been to see your grandfather.’ The words sounded— husky and she swallowed, determined to keep her cool, even though her body and mind were suddenly beset by vivid memories of their wild love-making the night before.

‘How was he?’ His silky Italian accent shimmied straight through her defences, and her composure started to dissolve immediately.

‘Fine, but very tired. He told me all about the flood.’ She started walking up the stairs towards him, and although she tried she simply couldn’t drag her eyes away from him standing in the doorway.

She watched him remove the jacket of his dark suit and loosen his tie. The effect was alarmingly dynamic—as— if he didn’t intend to keep his immaculate appearance for long. As if he meant business—a different kind of business from usual.

He combed his fingers through his black hair, sweeping— it back from his perfectly proportioned face. His skin was lightly bronzed, and he looked the embodiment of health and vigour.

His blue eyes were intense, locked in his unbroken appraisal— of her. She felt her skin warming in response to his gaze, yet despite that warmth a shiver began at the nape of her neck and tingled all the way down her backbone.

She reached the top step and still he towered over her, shamelessly occupying her personal space. In a moment of nervousness she thought she should carry on walking, move— past him, but it was strangely difficult to move—or— be aware of anything other than Vito. The heat of his body burned through her dress, the sound of his breathing— caressed her ears.

Maybe this was his personal space, she pondered vaguely. It was his scent that enclosed her, his scent that she pulled deep inside her with every breath she drew.

The potent mix of raw masculinity laced with his exotic cologne, the very essence of the man himself, was making her feel dizzy. She found herself swaying.

His hands closed on her waist. The impact was instant. His sharp intake of breath told her he felt it too—like a surge of electricity zinging between them. He lifted her up the final step and stood her directly before him.

Her head fell back and her eyes widened as she looked up at his face, only inches from her own. His eyes narrowed as his gaze swept over her, settling possessively— on her mouth, conveying his thoughts with devastating certainty.

She was breathing quickly in small, shaky bursts through slightly parted lips. Her tongue peeked out treacherously, moistening lips that were already red, and tingling in willful anticipation of his kiss, betraying— her needs to him.

‘I came home to make love to you.’

His words seared through her like a liquid fire, melting the last of her defences, whipping up the flames of her desire. She stared up at him with wide eyes, knowing that just how much she wanted him must be written all over her face.