Emma gave him a helpless, annoyed glance over her shoulder as Sophia bustled her back to the dressing lounge. The sales associate was all smiles as she helped Emma undress. Three other associates entered, each of them leaving with armfuls of garments and teasing Emma about how lucky she was. She had a feeling they were referring to the man sitting out in the sitting area more than they were the dre
am wardrobe he’d just bought her without a second thought. Sophia followed them a moment later carrying the final load. Emma picked up her bra—she’d had to remove it to do several of the dresses justice. She’d speak to Vanni about this privately. They’d agree to one dress, two if he said it was required given the events at the race, but—
In the reflection of the mirrors she saw the door open. Vanni walked in and shut the door behind him. Emma turned around, instinctively covering her bare breasts.
“Vanni?” she asked, her confusion mounting when she saw the single-minded intent gleaming in his light eyes.
He twisted the lock on the door.
“What are you doing?” she asked incredulous when he stalked toward her.
“It’s all right,” he assured, his nostrils flaring slightly as he glanced down over her. He reached for her hands and lowered them deliberately. Her nipples prickled and pinched tight beneath his stare. “Please don’t ever cover yourself from me,” he said.
“But . . . but what about Sophia and the others?” she asked numbly.
“They won’t be coming back for a while.”
“How do you know that?” she asked.
He gaze flicked from her breasts to her face. “Because I made sure of it.”
There. Just like that. Whether she liked it or not, Sophia and her band of sales associates were definitely going to remain absent, and they’d keep anyone else from wandering into this dressing suite, too. Why? Because Vanni Montand had proclaimed it to be his desire.
Emma didn’t speak when he reached up and put his hands on her shoulders, skimming his hands over her skin. She trembled as that familiar heavy pressure settled in her lower belly and sex. It felt so good.
“Do you know why I’m back early from my trip?” he asked her, his hands rubbing the back of her shoulders before they swept down her back. He pulled her against him. She moaned helplessly at the delicious sensation of pressing against his length, her erect nipples crushing against a soft shirt covering dense muscle.
“No,” she whispered, reaching up to grab his shoulders. She suddenly felt very weak.
His hands slid beneath her panties. He cupped her buttocks and massaged them. Emma felt moisture surge at her core. He nuzzled the hair near her ear and she couldn’t stop herself from shuddering in excitement.
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he breathed out. “You’re haunting me, Emma.”
“You never even called,” she said, pressing her cheek to his chest. God he smelled so good. He felt so good. What he was telling her made the sweet, hot pressure in her sex mount.
“I thought calling would make it worse,” he said, lowering her panties over her ass to her thighs. His hands made a lascivious journey across her hips and bottom. “Why didn’t you call me?” he growled softly before he kissed the opening of her ear. Emma gasped and tilted her head back to meet his stare.
“I thought calling would make it worse,” she repeated breathlessly.
His handsome mouth curled into a small snarl. “I don’t appreciate being tortured. That’s just what it was, too, having you paraded in front of me like that.” He pushed her tighter to him and dipped his knees. Emma’s breath caught when he pressed his cock to the juncture of his thighs.
“It was your idea, Vanni,” she reminded him dryly.
“That didn’t make it any less of a torture session,” he hissed, his mouth opening on her neck and then taking a tender bite out of her shoulder. Emma shivered. Hunger and heat seemed to radiate from him. How could he have looked so impassive and cool out there in the sitting room? “God you’re beautiful. Every time I see you it’s like being punched all over again,” he grated out, sounding almost angry. “You know that you’re mine, don’t you? For these few weeks, for these inadequate, skimpy little days and hours?”
She stared up at him. She was his whenever or however he wanted her. “Yes,” she whispered.
He nodded grimly before he bent and pushed her panties the rest of the way off her.
“Then come here,” he said firmly, leading her over to the couch.
Emma trailed after him, now completely naked. For a split second as he urged her to sit on the couch, she had a moment of clarity. She was in a store, for God’s sake, a public place.
But then Vanni sunk to his knees before where she sat. She saw the hard glint of desire in his eyes and delved her fingers into his thick hair, everything else, everyone else, disappearing. His hands opened on her waist and skimmed her hips, his gaze trailing hotly over her breasts and belly and landing at the juncture of her thighs.
“It seems like I’m always waiting for you, like you’re just out of my reach,” he said under his breath, almost as if he didn’t realize he spoke aloud. “I’ve waited too damn long to taste you.”
Emma bit her lip, but a whimper of stark arousal escaped her throat, anyway. He put his hands on the back of her thighs and pushed so that her head and fell back on the soft cushions of the couch and her hips rolled back. He urged with his touch, and she let her thighs fall open further.