The Tuscan's Revenge Wedding (Italian Billionaires #1)(15)
“But it meant nothing.”
The denial was mere kneejerk reaction. Amanda didn’t read the tabloids, but had seen enough while waiting in line at grocery store checkouts to know there was little they would not print. There were also few places safe from invasion by their long range camera lenses.
“You are a beautiful woman alone in my country where you don’t know the language. I can’t leave you at the mercy of these predators. No, nor of any other man who may decide to seek you out after reading their lies.”
She ignored the glancing compliment, knowing its purpose was to further his argument. “Only at your mercy, I suppose.”
His eyes turned blacker as anger expanded the pupils until they seemed to merge with the irises. “Meaning?”
“If you won’t take me where I ask, then I am forced to go where you please. I call that being at your mercy.”
A smile edged with perilous threat moved over the graceful curves of his mouth. “Now, there you may be correct, signorina, for I have decided to take you home with me.”
4
“Thank you, but I still prefer a hotel. Please tell your driver to turn around and take me back.”
So polite, so cool, though her voice was not quite even as she made the request, Nico thought. Her breasts under the jacket of her ridiculously severe suit rose and fell at too swift a rate as well. Watching that subtle movement under the fabric, he felt his fingers curl with the need to uncover those mysterious curves so buttoned away from his view, to cup them in slow exploration.
It wasn’t easy to return his gaze to her face, or to concentrate on calming the tension he felt coming from her in waves, tension he had caused.
“I can’t do that,” he answered.
“Order your driver to stop then. I’ll find a taxi or walk back from here.”
“Even more impossible. You will not meet with a taxi for hire along here at this time of morning. What you may meet with, instead, is a man who will offer you something more than a lift.”
Her gaze was assessing as her eyes met his. “You don’t think much of your countrymen, do you? Or maybe you judge them by what you would do, what you’re doing.”
She had no idea, he suspected, of the insult she had given him by suggesting he would harm her. Or else she hoped anger would cause him to abandon her. If the latter, she had completely misread his character.
“There can be no comparison,” he said in tight-lipped reply.
“So you say.”
She turned from him to glance at the door next to her. A muscle firmed under the fine-grained skin of her cheek as her gaze touched the handle.
“It locks automatically when the car is put in gear,” he pointed out. “An excellent innovation, wouldn’t you say?” He reached without haste to flip a latch at his side so a satisfying metallic click sounded in both doors. “It also has child-proofing that prevents the locks from being operated from inside.”
“I’m not an idiot,” she said with assurance. “I am quite able to see we are moving too fast to make jumping a possibility.”
“Bene. I am pleased to hear it.”
She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Look, I just want to be close to the hospital, closer to Jonathan.”
“You may see him when you wish, as often as you wish. You’ll have only to ask.”
“I don’t want to have to ask. I much prefer not to be dependent on you.”
“I brought you here, exposed you to those who would hound you for my sake. You are my responsibility.”
“No, I’m not! I don’t need you to look after me. I don’t want to go with you. I don’t want to stay in your home. Can you not understand plain English?”
Fury erupted inside of him for the rejection of his aid, the unwarranted apprehension that lingered in her eyes, the continued insult. It coalesced with the strain of the past hours and his inconvenient attraction to become raging impulse.
“Why is that?” he demanded. “Can it be because you expect this?”
He reached for her, gripping her waist to haul her toward him, catching her with his other arm across her back so she twisted to fall across his lap. Her hair tumbled around her rose-tinted features so she stared at him through its silky strands. Her lips were parted, and her fingers clutched at the muscles in his arms. She looked exactly as he’d thought she might after being thoroughly kissed. Yes, or after he had just made mad, desperate love to her.
“Por Dio,” he muttered, both a prayer and a curse, and lowered his head to take her lips.
She was sweet fire, heady coolness, molten magic and everything he had dreamed a woman should be. She gasped with a strangled sound, and he followed that breath of air into her mouth, seeking its source, heating the inner surfaces with languid sweeps of his tongue as he savored her like a gourmet sweet. He pulled her closer while cursing the stiff suit jacket that prevented him from feeling the firm curves of her breasts or their hardened tips. He wanted her to relax into him, to lift her arms around his neck and press against him in need, to give him her tongue so he might take it deep into his mouth in clear possession.
He wanted her to want him instead of being wary of him, to need him instead of pushing him away.
The effort it took to lift his mouth from hers made his neck creak with strain. The air he breathed felt hot in his chest, and the pain in his groin was like the slash of a fiery knife. With hooded eyes, he stared at her mouth that was swollen from his kiss, her eyes that accused him and the flush of color that mantled her skin in the beginnings of desire. And the urge to strip her bare and take her on the leather seat while the world moved past them tied his stomach in knots and made his blood pound a primitive tarantella in his ears.