His eyes were fierce, the scar a vivid reminder that this man wasn’t the gentle, civilised sort who would buy you dinner and then drop you safely at your door.
And for a single second she was afraid.
‘Silvio—’
Still holding her gaze, he lowered his mouth gently to hers, his kiss every bit as explicit and intimate as before, but slower, more measured.
Jessie just had time to reassure herself that he wasn’t scary with her when his gaze darkened and he slid his hand under her thigh, coaxing her with subtle pressure to wind her leg over his back. She felt the silken heat of him scorch the very centre of her and then he was inside her and it was such an incredible feeling that she cried out his name and dug her fingers into the sleek muscle of his shoulders. He was all raw power and male dominance, his breathing ragged as he thrust deeper still, the primal rhythm joining them completely. Jessie felt a flash of pain so sharp that for a moment she couldn’t breathe or move.
Her body tensed and he must have sensed her discomfort because he stilled above her, his breathing harsh as he struggled for control. Visibly challenged by the effort required to hold back, his jaw was tense and his eyes locked on hers.
‘Jessie?’ He spoke her name through gritted teeth, the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he supported his weight. ‘Talk to me…’
But she wasn’t capable of speech, shocked into silence by the unexpected pain and unfamiliar intimacy. Then she became aware that he was withdrawing and she slid her hands around his back and arched her hips to stop him. ‘No.’ She forced herself to relax, rejecting her body’s instinct to fight against the strength of his masculine invasion and immediately the pain was replaced by white-hot sexual excitement. She’d never been more aware of the differences between them than she was now—never more aware of how strong he was and how fragile she was by comparison.
His hand cupped her face, his gaze irresistibly compelling as he surged into her again, his mouth hovering above hers but not quite touching. They breathed the same air, shared their thoughts through a look rather than words, each oblivious to everything except the other.
Her heart hammered against her chest and she was lost in the delicious world he’d created, a world where there was just the two of them, a world where he protected her and kept her safe—a world of unadulterated pleasure.
Each skilled thrust of his body intensified the excitement, delaying the pleasure until Jessie thought she’d go crazy. Her body fluttered against the length of him and he gave a groan and slowed his rhythm slightly, prolonging the agony for both of them. But she’d been given a brief glimpse of paradise and suddenly she couldn’t wait any longer.
Lifting her head slightly, she bit his lower lip and he gave a wicked smile and surged deeper, his mouth taking hers in a hard, demanding kiss. Jessie spun higher and higher, overwhelmed and out of control, until the sensual bonds that had been holding her back snapped and she flew free. She felt herself tighten around him, heard him mutter something in Italian as he powered into her and she felt the hot liquid force of his own release.
It was scorching, intense and utterly consuming, the pulsating pleasure holding them both captive until finally he murmured something in Italian against her neck and rolled onto his back, taking her with him.
He tugged at the silk bedspread and covered them both, even though the evening was warm.
Dazed and shaken, Jessie wondered why he’d done that and then realised that she was shivering.
His strong hand stroked her back gently, warming her, calming her, and she wondered if he’d guessed that her trembling had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
Now that the wild, crazy storm had passed and her mind had cleared, she was faced with the stark truth.
She hadn’t just spent a wild, erotic interlude with an impos
sibly sexy man.
She’d slept with her enemy.
Silvio looked at the woman lying in his arms and knew she wasn’t asleep. She was too still for that.
Never one to avoid a difficult situation, he gave a frustrated sigh and shifted onto his side so that he was facing her. ‘Jessie?’
Her eyes remained closed and his mouth tightened. ‘You used to do this when you were young,’ he muttered. ‘You kept your eyes closed whenever something you didn’t like was happening.’ Her hair was covering part of her face and he moved it with his hand, the scent and the silky softness disturbing his concentration. And he knew his touch affected her too, because there was an almost imperceptible change in her breathing.
‘You’re going to talk to me eventually, Jess,’ he said evenly, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers, ‘so it might as well be now.’
‘What do you want to talk about? ‘She turned and stared straight at him, her green eyes revealing nothing. It was like looking down into the deepest part of the ocean—the surface of the water was just a gateway, concealing a private world beneath. ‘Most men want to sleep after sex, not have a conversation. Why do you have to be different?’
‘How would you know what men want?’ His voice rough, Silvio cupped her face in his hand. Her skin was smooth and soft and he felt a pang of guilt and regret. ‘I hurt you, didn’t I?’ He sensed her immediate withdrawal and instantly regretted both his rough tone and the directness of his question.
‘No.’ Her eyes were blank of expression. ‘You didn’t hurt me.’ There was no emotion in her tone and Silvio felt a surge of frustration and a flicker of concern.
Suddenly he wished he could read her mind.
‘Don’t lie to me, Jess, and don’t block me out. I want honesty.’
‘Do you? All right—I’ll be honest.’ She pulled away from him and sat up, her tangled hair falling over one shoulder, her gaze fixed straight ahead rather than on him. ‘I regret every minute of what we just did. And I hate myself almost as much as I hate you.’