"How large is your family?" she asked.
"Four brothers, two sisters and probably eight hundred cousins."
"You're joking, right?" Being an only child, she couldn't imagine that many siblings and cousins. Neither of her parents had brothers or sisters. She'd always wondered what it might have been like to have a large, extended family. As it was, her parents could hardly stand having her around, let alone anyone else. It had seemed that their universe had been the two of them, and anyone else was an interference. Like her. Morgan had always felt unwanted, as if creating her had been something her parents had felt obligated to do.
"Maybe I exaggerated a bit on the cousins. But at least thirty of them, plus their own kids. Holidays are always chaotically interesting."
From the sparkle in his eyes Morgan knew he was remembering good times. When was the last time she had a good memory? Did she even have any?
"Thinking about work again?" he asked, taking a swallow of wine.
"Yes." Eventually she'd have to come up with a better lie. Or quit zoning out on him.
"You're probably tired. I should let you get some sleep."
Morgan waved her hand in the air. "Not really. I don't sleep much." And just exactly why had she revealed that to him? She glared at her empty wine glass.
He arched a brow. "Why?"
"Always a lot on my mind, I suppose."
"Resort things, or personal things?"
Wonderful. It hadn't taken long for that line of questioning to start. "Mostly resort things, and my personal life is none of your business."
He leaned back in the chair, a smile curving his lips. "The article will focus on both you and the resort."
"I know that, I agreed to the terms. But there's personal, and then there's personal."
"And how am I supposed to distinguish between the two?"
"I'll let you know if your questions are out of bounds."
"You like being in control, don't you?"
The words echoed in her memories, calling to mind the first time David had spoken them. Of course, he'd followed up with, "That's too bad, because your days of control are over."
And after that, he'd shown her exactly what he'd meant. Repeatedly, until the thought of her controlling any aspect of her life became nothing more than a distant memory.
She shuddered. "I like my job. It requires me to manage the environment around the resort, to insure the guests are satisfied. So, yes, in that respect I like being in charge. I like knowing my guests leave with a smile on their faces."
"What about you? Are you satisfied? Personally, that is?"
"Yes."
"Quick answer."
"I know my own mind." Or at least she used to. She used to follow her desires, enjoying the journey, reveling in the destination. Before she'd made a wrong turn once and had ended up in hell. Once she'd made her escape, Paradise had seemed like heaven.
Now, looking across the table at Tony, his long legs spread out, and the clean, crisp scent of him drifting across the table, she felt an ache between her legs that she hadn't felt in a long time. Her body pulsed with the desire to feel a hard shaft ramming into her until she came, screaming.
Too bad. What her body wanted and what it was going to get were two very different things.
"What's on your mind right now?" he asked, startling her.
"Why do you ask?"
"You have a look about you."
"What look?"
He grinned. "I don't know how to describe it. Like there's something you want--something really nice. Your eyes are glassy and your cheeks are pink. If I didn't know better I'd say you were turned on."
What the hell was he--psychic? Even though he'd hit the nail right on the head, it was the last thing she'd want him to think. She steadied her gaze on him, remembering the practiced, icy stare she'd perfected over the years. "Actually, I'm thinking that we have an early day tomorrow."
"Sorry," he said, but his grin didn't completely dissipate. "We'll take this up again in the morning."
They stepped inside and Morgan followed Tony down the hall, stopping at the doorway to her room.
"Good night." She suddenly felt awkward, like she was reluctant to let him leave. How long had it been since she'd had a decent conversation with a man? Or any conversation that didn't include resort business.
Yes, this was business, but something a little bit more. And that more intrigued her way more than it should.
"Sleep well," he replied, heading into his room and shutting the door.
Morgan leaned against the closed door and sighed. What she wouldn't give to be a normal woman who could act on feelings of lust for a man. Damn David for what he'd done to her!
At least the anger quelled the urge to cry. She hadn't cried since the last time she'd ended up at the hospital. After that episode, she'd vowed to shed no more tears for herself. The situation with David had gone on as long as it had because she'd let it. She hadn't been strong enough to walk away the first time, or the times after that.
Instead, she'd stayed and endured his lessons, losing a part of herself each time until the joyous, sexual creature she'd been no longer existed. Maybe her ex had ruined her for sex in the future, but she'd gained one thing she hadn't had before she met him--strength.
If she could survive five years married to David, she could survive anything.
Including spending the week with a sexy hunk of Italian man occupying the room next to hers.
She pushed away from the door and stepped into the bathroom to prepare for bed. Water was running in the other room, and she knew Tony was in his bathroom. She smiled wistfully at the shared intimacy, even though a wall separated them.
What would a normal relationship be like? She'd missed out on those special moments between her and a man, like sharing a bathroom, waking up snuggled next to a warm body in the morning, that first kiss of the day. That sense of normalcy that she'd never had with David.
Fantasies again. Not only the regular, every day life with a man, but the intimate ones, too. She often thought of what she'd missed. Like right now, wondering if he shaved before bedtime, or even what he wore or didn't wear to bed.
Maybe she wouldn't act on her thoughts, but she still had her fantasies.
And she was damn well going to indulge that fantasy tonight. Her body rushed with heat and she hurried through her nighttime ritual, shed her clothes and slipped in between the cool sheets of her bed.
Slick satin rubbed against her heated skin, tantalizing her.
The evening breeze blew the soft scent of gardenias into the open window. She inhaled and closed her eyes, letting her imagination take over.
It didn't take long.
Her mind was already filled with thoughts of Tony. Imagining his six-foot-two frame towering over her, she conjured up the fantasy and made it real. He was all tanned muscle, his body beaded with sweat as he stood in front of her. His labored breathing caused his chest to rise and fall dramatically. She stepped toward him and boldly ran her hands over his shoulders. Threading her fingers through his hair, she pulled his mouth down toward hers and paused, not touching lips yet, just breathing each other in.
His eyes blazed midnight black. His breath brushed against her cheek. And when he wound his arms around her and pulled her firmly against him, she didn't run, she didn't panic. She welcomed his embrace. Just like she'd welcome the moment he slid his thick shaft inside her wet sheath.
First, she had to taste him. She brushed her lips against his, felt the muscles in his arms expand, which excited her all the more. There was nothing like a man with incredible power restraining himself, and letting his woman make the first move.
He could have thrown her down and fucked her easily. Her petite stature was no match for him. But he didn't. He stood motionless and let her explore his lips and slide her tongue gently into his mouth to tangle with his.
When he devoured her lips with his sensuous mouth, she moaned.
Really moaned. Out
loud.
But she was too deep into the fantasy to care, too intent on visualizing how Tony would taste and feel against her heated skin, to worry about the sounds she'd just made.
The exquisite pleasure shooting through her at imagining his touch, his mouth, his body covering hers, elicited whimpers and pants of longing. Oh, how she wished this could be real.
She slid her hand over her breasts and teased her nipples until they stood upright. Her fingers snaked down to her aching, wet mound and she bit her bottom lip to control the loudest of her urgent cries.
Small whimpers and moans escaped. She couldn't help it. She'd never been quiet, even when masturbating.