CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LIANEGAZEDOUTat the violet night, the first stars beginning to twinkle in the night sky, and a shiver of expectation went through her as the cool breeze from the open shutters whispered over her skin.
She and Alessandro had spent the afternoon going through the garden and then playing a rollicking game of lawn boules with Sophia. Then they’d gathered in the drawing room for drinks, followed by a dinner that was both delicious and enjoyable, as Liane had seen how relaxed Alessandro was with the people he loved, smiling and joking in a way he had so rarely during their travels together.
And yet through it all an exquisite tension had been building inside her as well as between them. Every time she’d caught Alessandro’s glance her body burned. When, during dinner, he’d casually brushed her fingers with his own everything in her had ached with desire. She’d enjoyed the towering sense of expectation, even as it had frightened her.
This was really happening...
As soon as dessert had been cleared, Christina and Sophia had both made their excuses; Liane didn’t miss the fact that her bedroom suite was in a guest wing, far from any others. Ella had been right; they were certainly giving her—them—privacy.
She’d returned to her room, showered and changed, feeling a bit self-conscious and even silly as she’d slipped on the thick terrycloth robe provided. Almost like a bride on her wedding night...except of course that wasn’t how it was at all. And she didn’t even know if or when Alessandro would arrive. Arrangement this might be, but they’d made no actual arrangements about how it was all supposed to go.
Should she go to his room? He to hers? How was this actually going to work?
She’d been standing at the window, trying not to let her nerves overwhelm her, for fifteen minutes before she heard the gentle tap at the door, and in the next moment Alessandro slipped into the room, regarded her with eyes that blazed silver with intensity—and desire.
He wore a white button-down shirt, open at his bronzed throat, and a pair of dark grey trousers. He looked so potently virile that Liane’s heart turned over and a flush broke out over her skin. She felt, quite suddenly, nearly naked in her dressing gown and she fumbled with the sash to, rather ridiculously, tighten it.
‘I didn’t know if you were coming.’
He took a step towards her, a tiny, tender smile quirking his mouth. ‘Why would you doubt it?’
‘I don’t know. Lack of experience, I suppose.’
‘I’ve been thinking about this all day. For quite a few days, in fact.’ Another step and another, and then he was there in front of her, gazing down at her with both tenderness and need. ‘Surely you need no more convincing of how much I want you?’
‘No...’ she whispered. ‘Although, to tell the truth, it does boggle my mind.’
He laughed softly. ‘As it does mine.’ He tugged gently on the end of her sash. ‘Is there a reason why you were tightening that? You haven’t changed your mind?’
‘No.’ She gulped. ‘I was tightening it because right now you’re wearing a few more clothes than I am,’ she explained a bit tartly. ‘And I’m nervous.’ He smiled as he toyed with the end of her sash.
‘The clothing situation can be remedied, you know. Quite quickly, as a matter of fact.’
‘Okay.’ She waited for him to unbutton his shirt, shrug out of it—something. But he merely looked at her. ‘Would you do the honours?’ he asked softly, and a nervous excitement skittered along her skin.
Could she...? Would she? Was that how this was going to work? Oh, yes, she realised, it was, and she would. Her fingers trembled at the first button, but by the third they were steady, and by the fourth they were lingering. His skin felt like burnished satin, the crisp hairs tickling her fingers, the muscles of his chest and abdomen tautening under her lightly skimming touch. Pleasure flared low in her belly as she undid the last button and then slid the shirt off his powerful shoulders.
He was so beautiful, every muscle sculpted in bronze, his taut belly quivering as she trailed her fingertips over it, and a low groan escaped him as he captured her fingers with his own.
‘First let me look at you.’
With one slow tug he undid her robe and the heavy folds swung apart. Liane tried not to shiver, both from the cool air and the inevitable sense of apprehension as Alessandro regarded her naked body. She was too pale, too slight, Liane thought, even as she registered the gleam of deep masculine approval in his eyes.
He reached out one hand to cup her breast, his palm warm and sure, making her whole body tingle. ‘You’re perfect,’ he told her. ‘Absolutely perfect.’
And, amazingly, she felt perfect, in his eyes, in a way she never, ever had before. She finally felt seen and accepted and loved...yes, loved, even if she knew she wasn’t, not like that. What she saw in his eyes, what she felt in herself, was, in that moment, enough. It was more than enough.
Her self-consciousness faded away as he slid the robe from her shoulders and it fell in a soft, silent pool at her feet. He took another step towards her so her breasts brushed his chest and everything in her quivered. A kiss, slow and deep, plumbing the very depths of her, and already she felt her mind start to blur and the last of her nervousness burned away in the heat of his gaze, as well as that of her desire, their bodies brushing each other at the most exquisitely aching points.
Boldly now, sure of his need as well as of her own, she reached for his belt buckle. Her fingers didn’t tremble as she undid it and then the button on his trousers, her palm skimming the length and heat of him, thrilling to that touch, feeling him strain against her with desire and need. A slight smile of acknowledgement curved his mouth, the colour high on his cheekbones, his glittering gaze pinned on her. She didn’t look away as, taking a steadying breath, she tugged his trousers down his muscular legs and then in one abrupt movement he kicked them off.
‘And the rest?’ he murmured and, taking a deep breath, she pulled his boxer shorts down, thrilling to the sight of his body, glorious and naked, ready for her.
In an instant they fell upon one another, bodies glimmering in moonlight, grasping, seeking, finding, hands and mouths, limbs tangled, a laugh escaping along with a groan, and Liane didn’t even know who it was. It didn’t even matter; she felt as if they were moving as one, a tangle and a blur as they stumbled their way to the bed, until, with a muttered oath, in one easy movement Alessandro swooped her into his arms and laid her down on it like a treasure, a precious pearl.
She gazed at him with nothing but trust in her eyes, her body utterly open to him, revelling in the desire and appreciation she saw in his heated gaze. Here she was, exposed, vulnerable, and yet not afraid. Not ashamed.
Then he stretched out beside her, one hand slowly skimming her body as if it learned its lines, from the curve of her ankle to the dip of her waist to the swell of her breast. A new country, explored by his hand—and then by his mouth as, with leisurely languor, he followed that route with his lips, seeming to memorise every hidden swell or dip until Liane was writhing beneath his questing touch, and wanting to explore his body in just the same way. To know him the way he was knowing her, for that was what it felt like—an intimacy beyond any other, a communion of bodies if not souls.
And yet already she knew her soul was touched, that no matter how she’d tried to separate it all in her mind, in reality the two were entwined for ever. She couldn’t possibly separate her body from her heart; they were innately, intensely joined, just as their bodies were joining—Alessandro’s leg between hers, his hands in her hair, his lips on her navel, making her gasp, dipping lower.
How could this be anything but a total offering of self, of soul—and a joining with his? Whether he knew it or not, whether she admitted it to him or not, Liane knew what this was—a total surrender, not just to him, but to what she felt for him. No matter how hard she’d tried to guard her heart, to keep it safe, she knew then that she’d offered it along with her body. She loved him and could not keep herself from loving him...whether or not he loved her back.