The Tuscan's Revenge Wedding (Italian Billionaires #1)(24)
“I should do that, you think?”
Carisa nodded with great emphasis. “You will like it. Truly. Amanda tastes good, too, but different, like strawberries!”
Yes, he would most certainly like it. Strawberries were his favorite fruit, or might well be after this little episode. The gods were being kind that they provided such a fine excuse for carrying out his most fervent impulse.
With one arm around Carisa, he moved toward the table where Amanda sat. She eyed his advance with close attention while pushing back her hair, tucking it behind one ear. She looked distinctly skittish, as well she might if she’d caught anything of Carisa’s suggestion.
He gave her no chance to retreat, but bore down upon her with a steady stride. As he halted beside her, he reached to circle her narrow waist with his arm. “Buon giorno, good morning,” he said in husky greeting, and set his mouth to hers.
~ ~ ~
Amanda had been almost sure Nicholas — Nico — meant to kiss her. She guessed it from the exchange with Carisa, but saw it too in the devilish glimmer, half amused, half daring, in his dark eyes. If she had been certain, she might have evaded him by retreating behind the table. As it was, she barely had time to draw breath before she was pulled up from her chair and against the hard length of his body.
She expected a quick, half humorous meeting of mouths. Instead, he brushed his lips over hers with slow purpose. The very edge of his tongue feathered their surfaces with wet heat as he tasted her. A low hum of pleasure sounded in his chest, its vibrato throbbing into her breasts as he held her close. Her lips throbbed, softening under his as a peculiar exhilaration swept through her. She pressed her hands to his wide shoulders, intending to push him away.
Through her mind, in that instant, ran the fragment of a dream that had jerked her awake in the night, one of being pursued, captured, drawn into his arms like this while her clothes mysteriously disintegrated. She had twisted, naked and exultant in his hold, and so awash in desperate desire that the mere memory of it left her flushed and breathless now.
“Nico?” Carisa said.
He made no answered, didn’t appear to notice when his young sister ceased pulling on his shirt, distracted by the sweet roll her companion offered her.
He shifted, thrusting his fingers through Amanda’s hair, cupping the back of her head while he slanted his mouth over hers. She remembered to breathe then, inhaling quickly through nose and mouth. He took instant advantage of that parting of her lips. Slipping inside, he twined his tongue with hers, abrading its tender underside, enticing it into his mouth the better to invade hers with his sweet, enticing flavor.
He was so solid against her, so muscled and hard in all the places where she was not, subtly dominating with his superior height and strength. His scent surrounded her, compounded of the soap from his morning shower, his elusive cologne and clean male. She breathed it deep inside while intoxicating heat seemed to melt her very bones, and her resolve along with them.
It was so unlike her, this abandon, so beyond anything she had ever experienced. Alarm surged through her as she realized it. That brought the strength and resolution she needed to break the kiss, turn her head aside.
Nico stiffened, and then released her with every sign of reluctance. Amanda lifted a hand to her lips that felt as moist and lush as ripe fruit. Glancing around, she saw she and Nico were alone, that Carisa and Yolanda had strolled away down into the garden.
“You may want to reapply your gloss,” he said in low suggestion. “It was too delicious, and you entirely too…kissable.”
“What happened to your hands-off rule as host?” she asked with the ghost of a tremor in her voice as she flicked him a glance from under her lashes.
“That you are supposed to be my fiancée changes things a bit,” he answered, though a trace of color seeped under his bronzed skin. “Besides, I never said I wouldn’t touch you at all.”
“Polite touches to aid or direct me, I believe you said.”
“It was a polite kiss, as Carisa was certain you would expect a greeting.”
The intention had been the only polite thing about it, Amanda thought, but had no time to say so. Erminia emerged from the house just then, bearing a coffee tray and fresh baskets of fruit and warm rolls for Nico’s breakfast. The housekeeper placed these on the table and cleared away what was left from the meal Amanda had shared with Carisa and her companion.
“Join me in a coffee?” Nico asked as the housekeeper went away again.
“I’ve had enough, thank you.” The words were abrupt, but she couldn’t help it. He had moved to pull out the chair she’d vacated with his help. Realizing he would not take his own at the table while she stood, she dropped down in it before she went on. “You called the hospital this morning?”
“No change in the night,” he replied, answering her fear rather than her question. “We will visit again in a short while, if that suits you.”
She was grateful for the offer, not least because it prevented her from having to ask. “We?”
“You and I. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all,” she said at once. “I only wondered if your grandmother or aunt might like to visit as well.”
“Nonna prefers not to see Carita as she is just now, it being too upsetting for her. My aunt makes a habit of looking in on her when she is in the city, and will do that later in the day. I fear it will only be the two of us.””