There were yells of laughter.
‘Aren’t you going to kiss your wife, Vicè?’
Her heart leapt as he turned and looked down at her.
‘I think I should,’ he said softly, his eyes dropping to her mouth.
His hand moved to her back. She felt her stomach disappear as he tipped her head back and stared into her eyes, and then he leaned forward and kissed her.
It was the lightest of kisses, fleeting and gentle. But, staring up into his dark eyes, she felt her brain freeze and her body begin to melt. Pulse jumping, she leaned into him and pressed her mouth against his.
For a fraction of a second she felt his surprise, and then his hand caught in her hair and he was pulling her closer. Her head spun. She could taste his hunger...feel her own hunger flowering with a swiftness that shocked her. Blood was roaring in her ears.
Her fingers slid over his chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt, and she couldn’t stop herself from slanting her body against his.
His lips were still moving slowly, deliberately over hers, drawing out the heat that was tightening her stomach so that she was shivering, shaking inside, her body melting with a raw hunger that was as torturous as it was exquisite. And the
n she was kissing him back, fusing her mouth with his.
The roar of the photographers’ voices filled her head. For a few moments the world turned white. Then she felt his swift indrawn breath, and as he lifted his head she dimly became aware of her surroundings again.
‘Okay, that’s it for now.’ Vicè smiled, and seconds later he was leading her back down the path to his villa.
Her heart was hammering against her ribs and her cheeks felt scalded. It had been supposed to be for show, but as he’d drawn her into the half-circle of his arms she had never wanted anything to be more real.
Had Vicè sensed her unbidden response beneath the performance? The thought made her throat tighten and as they walked into the villa she spun round to face him. ‘I can’t believe you just did that.’
He arched an eyebrow. ‘What did you expect? A peck on the cheek?’
Her voice was shaking. ‘That kiss was way “beyond the call of duty”!’
And she had kissed him back. Her teeth clenched. She was furious with herself. But to reveal that would reveal her vulnerability, and so, as he dropped down onto the sofa, she directed her anger towards him.
‘You love this, don’t you? Playing your stupid games—’
His eyes narrowed, and then he was on his feet and moving towards her so fast that she only just had time to throw up a defensive hand.
‘Me playing games?’ He shook his head, an incredulous look on his handsome face. ‘I’m not the one playing games here, Imma.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ she hissed.
‘It means all this fighting and flirting. You do know that eventually we’re going to end up back where we started? Naked. In bed.’
Her eyes clashed with his. ‘In your dreams.’
‘In yours too,’ he taunted.
His words made her breathing jerk. She shook her head in denial. ‘You are impossibly arrogant.’
‘So I’ve been told. But that doesn’t change the facts—which are that you want me as much as I want you. So why don’t we skip the fighting and go straight to the sex?’
Cheeks flaming, she stared up at him angrily, the truth of his words only intensifying her need to deny them.
‘You didn’t want me before—you wanted your father’s business. And you only want me now because you can’t risk having an affair and blowing our deal. As to what I want—do you really think I’d sleep with you again after everything that’s happened?’
‘Why not?’
His eyes were fixed on her face, hot and dark, and as she caught the intense heat in them her body began to tremble.