He lay back down, and forced himself to close his eyes.
Sleep came to him, finally, but his dreams were filled with Emily.
Time passed, as it tends to, and faster than either would have liked. Emily blinked her eyes open, and stretched her arms above her head. She felt like she’d been walking through clouds. Her eyes were heavy and her body was strangely relaxed. The sound of someone else’s breathing came to her and she startled properly awake.
Sabato.
Sabato Montepulciano.
She stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest, as regret seared through her. What had she done? Her cheeks flushed as she remembered what she’d been like, in his bed. The way she had screamed his name at the top of her lungs, incapable of caring who heard. She had been his slave, a slave completely to his will and her wants.
What the hell had come over her?
Oh my God, she mentally berated herself. Keeping her eyes on him, as one might a ferocious lion about to attack, she slid one foot out onto the carpet. So far, so good. She pushed her other out, and then stood, gingerly sliding the blanket back onto the bed.
Her clothes were spread far across the room. She bent down, searching for her bra, and underpants. The former was hooked over a lamp shade. The latter turned up against the wall, in the corner. She pulled them up and then began to hunt for her work uniform.
“You know, I’m only going to be removing those in a few moments.”
His voice made her jump. Nervously, she spun around, twisting her fingers behind her back. “Oh. You’re awake,” she said unnecessarily, licking her lips.
He nodded, his expression droll. “As are you. Did you sleep well, cara?”
Her eyes were tethered to his. The thread was invisible, but no less real. “Yes.” Emily didn’t think she’d slept so well in years. Not since the night her mum and Simon had been killed, and that had been with the aid of heavy duty sedatives. “ Oh, crap! What time is it?” She looked around in a panic, and when she didn’t see a clock, she crouched on the bed and reached for his wrist. The gold watch showed it to be early in the evening. “Sheez! I’m late for work. I have to go, I’m sorry.”
He caught her wrist when she would have leaped from the bed. His face had an intensity that sent barbs of pleasure shooting through her body. His voice was a thick directive. “Stay.”
“We’ve already talked about this,” she said, pulling at her hand. But he didn’t let go, and she fell against him, all thoughts of her work suddenly fogging out of her mind. “I have to work.” Pride made it impossible to finish the sentence. That she needed to work. Because she needed the money.
“Your dedication to your employment is admirable,” he conceded with a tilt of his head.
“You said you’d wake me!” She accused, wondering in the back of her mind why she wasn’t trying harder to leave him. After all, she was late for a job that she desperately needed.
“And instead I let you sleep. You were exhausted.”
“Damn it, Sabato,” she cursed. He had a small cluster of scars right at the top of his forehead, just beneath the line of his hair. She lifted a finger to it, distracted by the slight flaw in an otherwise perfect face. “My manager will be furious.”
“Your manager will be no such thing.” Sabato was cocky and self-assured, and yet she didn’t mind. It was sexy on him.
“Trust me, Ewan is already in enough of a panic with so many staff off sick. I’m leaving him badly in the lurch.” She leaned forward, pulled by some kind of magnetic energy. She pressed her mouth lightly to his. In every way it was a goodbye kiss. “I have to get back to the real world now.” Wistful. Miserable, if she were honest.
He moved closer to Emily, covering the distance she’d retracted. His body was significantly larger than hers; it was easy for him to cover her, pushing her back to the mattress. Not that she offered any resistance. He could see her pulse fluttering wildly at the base of her throat.
Sabato ground his hips against hers; the moment Emily felt his arousal her eyes widened. Her tongue darted out and traced her top lip, and he ached to follow its path. He found the hollow at the base of her neck instead and pressed his lips to it just lightly enough to send a shiver running through her body.
“I want you to myself this weekend.”
Emily arched her back, instinctively trying to bring her womanhood into connection with him. “Okay,” she murmured, surprising them both. “When I’m not working.”
He shook his head, tickling her with his thick dark hair. She didn’t laugh. Even that was erotic, with her body overheating as it was. He cupped her breasts in his broad hands, and took possession of her mouth. His stubble brushed roughly against her chin. Emily tangled her fingers in his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist.
“You will not work this weekend.”
“Sabato…”
He lifted a finger to her lips. “Do you want this?” His dark eyes bore into hers. He did not need to clarify what ‘this’ was. It was him. And everything he could give her.
The bill. The damn bill. It frayed at the edges of her consciousness. The extra hours she’d begged Ewan for this weekend would have covered it. Guilt washed over her, because she knew she was going to ignore it. For the first time since taking charge of Andrew, and moving to London, Emily wanted to do the irresponsible thing. To do something for herself, and her pleasure entirely. Besides, she could call the electricity company and beg to pay it in instalments.