“Ah, yes, tabloid rumours,” she responded with a saccharine smile. “Such a fount of reliable information.”
“So it’s all lies?” He scoffed, pressing her back against the wall, his eyes showing his obvious disbelief, and something else too. Something darker, angrier.
“What do you think?”
And even though she knew what he thought, she held her breath, waiting and hoping, ridiculously hoping, that he would admit he wasn’t sure, that maybe it had been lies.
“I think you played the part of an innocent bride to perfection, but that you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into. I think you and I are more alike than I realised – that we both see sex as a transaction, something that leads to physical satisfaction and little else. I think I made a mistake in not taking advantage of what you so generously kept offering me all those years ago.” He dropped his head and she was glad, because she knew hurt must have been written across her face. “I think I’m going to make up for lost time tonight, Alessia. Is that what you want?”
Her throat felt thick, her breath impossible to catch.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
She made a growling noise, pushing up onto the tips of her toes. “I thought I already had.” And she curled her fingers around his neck, drawing his head the final distance to hers. “Now stop talking and give me what I came here for.”
Chapter Two
CHRISTO. HE NEEDED TO get a grip, but Alessia was kissing him as though she had caught fire and he was her only chance for survival. This had never been his plan. True, he’d got rid of her jerk of a fiancé – an act he deemed necessary given the man’s obviously mercenary intentions – but that was the end of it. He hadn’t planned to see Alessia again.
Their marriage had been a disaster, their divorce even more so. Whatever relief he thought he’d bring to Carlo by marrying his only daughter, divorcing her had hurt Carlo way worse.
So what they hell were they doing?
As if he needed to answer that. There was no answer, only instinct.
Just like she said, this was one night out of time. They could sleep together and have that be the end of it.
Besides, what was the harm? He’d done everything he could to respect Alessia’s innocence during their marriage because he’d grossly misunderstood what she was like. But once the photos hit the world papers, he’d felt like a world-class fool. His wife wasn’t some sweet little virgin that needed protecting. She was a sophisticated, sensual woman and he’d ignored her completely. He could never forgive her infidelity but she wasn’t the only one who carried blame there.
“I pushed you into their beds,” he groaned into her mouth, wondering at the salty taste of tears. He lifted his head but she wouldn’t let him; she followed him, kissing him even as he wanted to see her face.
Damn it, there was no sense here, nothing that rational thought could accomplish. One time, one night.
He pushed at her dress, lifting it over her head and dropping it to the floor, his lips chasing the bare flesh on her shoulders, his teeth nipping her there, his tongue teasing her until she was whimpering, caught between him and the wall. He crouched down, peeling her underpants from her body, his hands worshipping her legs, the gentle curves, before coming to cup her womanhood. She made a noise of surprise, a sweet sound that brought a smile to his lips, and then he was standing.
“Are you on the pill?” He asked as he stepped out of his jeans.
She shook her head, her eyes not meeting his.
It jarred. He stilled, his eyes locking to hers. “No?”
“I – no.” Her cheeks grew pink. “I was supposed to be getting married, remember?”
He swallowed a curse. He didn’t want to think about the implications of that but it was impossible not to. They were going to try for a child right away? That bastard had obviously wanted to do whatever he could to stitch up a slice of Alessia’s fortune – marriage was good, a child was better.
It was further vindication for what he’d done; not that he needed any. Massimo never questioned his instincts and they’d been one hundred per cent from the minute he’d met her fiancé. Nonetheless, the idea of Alessia’s belly growing round with that good-for-nothing’s baby turned Massimo’s blood to ice.
“Fine,” he nodded, pushing the unpalatable thoughts aside, discarding his shirt as he reached for his wallet and removed a condom. He always used protection anyway, he wasn’t even sure why he’d asked her about the pill. He sheathed himself, something inside of him locking into place. She was right – this wasn’t the time to think about their past. Too much had happened. This was just a righting of a wrong – a mistake he’d made back then that he was getting a chance to rectify now, and in the best possible way.
“I was so angry with you,” he muttered, grabbing her hips and lifting her, pinning her to the wall, his arousal pressing at her core.
“No, you weren’t. That was the worst thing. You thought I’d slept with him and you didn’t even care.”
“I divorced you,” he reminded her, pushing his tip a little way inside of her, u
sing all his willpower not to drive into her in one long thrust.
“I hurt your pride,” she insisted.