Maybe that’s why her hands were so urgent as she lifted them to his shirt and grappled with his buttons.
‘Have you finished working?’ Her voice came out husky.
He smiled and her heart dipped crazily. How could one look, one smile, do that to her?
‘If you have.’
Sonia nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The tenderness in his gaze threatened to undo her. She wouldn’t let herself examine why.
‘Excellent.’ His big hands covered hers, curling her fingers into his shirt and, with an abrupt jerk, ripped the fabric open.
The sheer profligate machismo of the action stole Sonia’s breath. Or maybe it was all that honed olive-gold skin, the ripple of sculpted muscles and the soft tickle of silky chest hair as he laid her palms flat on his chest.
No, it was the thud of Renzo’s heart, quick and hard like her own, and the smoky heat in those midnight eyes. His urgent need for connection, his yearning, exactly matched what Sonia felt.
‘Feel what you do to me, tesoro. Feel how I need you.’ That beautiful mouth twisted and his shook his head, frowning. ‘Never has it been like this.’
At least that’s what she thought he said. The words were so hoarse and slurred she had to strain to recognise them.
Then Renzo was holding her to him as he ravished her with his mouth, his hands, his whole body. It felt like adoration and possession and something she couldn’t name but which made her heart soar.
Which probably explained why, hours later as they lay entwined, their bodies, even their breathing in perfect harmony, Sonia relinquished the last of her defences.
Finally she faced the truth she’d avoided for weeks. Despite the pain of past disillusionment and her determination never to risk that again, against all the rules and every mutual, unspoken promise to Renzo, she’d forgotten casual. Forgotten temporary.
She’d fallen in love. And it was nothing like what she’d felt before.