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Instead, I open my eyes after what feels like ten minutes to find dim light seeping into the room and Nick in pajama pants and a white T-shirt sitting on the bench at the end of the bed.

Even through the gauzy bed curtains, I can see the exhaustion tugging at the edges of his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, voice rough. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not a wink.” He fingers the curtains with a tired smile. “Turns out these aren’t just for show. The second I dropped my guard, the bugs swarmed in to feast upon my tender flesh.”

“Well, that’s what you get for having tender flesh, I guess.” I draw back the covers. “Get in. I’m sober. It’s safe.”

“I doubt that,” he mutters, but a beat later, he crawls through the netting and collapses beside me. He puts an arm around me, dragging me into a little-spoon position with a tired sigh.

Despite the shame trying to creep in at my lack of restraint last night, I go without resistance. I’m still tired, and it feels so good to be tucked against him, where I fit just right.

“It’s okay,” he whispers into my hair. “I don’t remember a thing after dinner. We can pretend it didn’t happen.”

I swallow, heart stuttering as I whisper back, “We could. But…do you really want to?”

His arm tightens around my waist. “You said you were sober.”

“I am. As a nun in church.” I arch my back, shifting my bottom into more intimate contact with the front of his cotton pants. Even through my robe and his pajamas, I can feel that he hasn’t forgotten about last night—and that he’s every bit as tempted by the heat between us as I am.

He curses beneath his breath. “Sleep, woman. Then we’ll talk.”

“Or we can…not talk. Not talking is good, too.” I circle my hips, my nipples tightening as he grows thicker, harder against me. On impulse, I reach up, parting the front of my robe before taking Nick’s hand and guiding it between the open folds.

He cups my breast with a groan, rolling the tight tip between his fingers and thumb in a way that makes my blood rush. “I want to kiss you here,” he murmurs against my neck. “And lick. And bite.”

Desire surges from his fingers to my clit, and I squirm beneath his touch. “Yes. All of that.”

“And then I want to bury my face between your legs and make you come on my tongue.”

I whimper in soft agreement, panting faster as he transfers his attention to my other breast.

“But first, I’ll make you beg,” he murmurs. “Make you beg me to fuck you with my mouth, make you beg me to put you out of your misery. Make you suffer until you confess I’m the best fuck you’ve ever had.”

My breath rushes out. “I believe in praise when praise is due. But, fair warning, I’ve had some really excellent sex.” I reach back, rubbing his hard length through his pants, sizzling everywhere with anticipation.

“Is that a challenge?” His hand skims lower, smoothing over my stomach, moving to where I’m already wet, hot, and dying for him to touch me. “Because I really love a challenge.”

My reply transforms to a bleat of surprise as someone knocks on the door so hard it rattles on its hinges. “Zan? Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick!”

Heart racing, I call out, “Yes, sorry, Beatrice. I’m fine.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Nick adds. “I forgot to call. Completely my fault.”

Beatrice sighs in audible relief. “No, it’s fine. I’m just so glad you’re both okay. We had to send one woman to the hospital in town, but she’s doing much better now. Stefano is furious with whoever did this, though. He’s pacing in our room, cussing in Italian.”

“I can imagine,” Nick says, his palm skimming lower on my stomach. “People could have died.”

“That’s right.” I reach down, covering Nick’s hand with mine, stopping him before his fingers slide between my legs. I turn over my shoulder, widening my eyes pointedly at him, then the door, then back at him. “Beatrice is right there,” I hiss.

“But she can’t see us,” he whispers.

“But we’re having a conversation with her, and this is weird,” I hiss back. “Be decent.”

Nick rolls his eyes before calling out in a louder voice, “Well, sorry again, love. But glad to hear we’re all right as rain this morning.”

“Well, not entirely,” Beatrice says, hesitation in her voice. “I really don’t think Stefano wants me in the room right now. He’s so upset. And our waterfall excursion has been postponed until tomorrow, and I’m starving after being up most of the night. And well, I hate to eat alone, so I was kind of wondering…”

“Buffet in thirty minutes?” I call, making Nick scowl so hard it’s comical. Fighting a grin, I add, “I’ll meet you by the entrance.”


Tags: Lili Valente Romance