CHAPTER SEVEN
OLIVIASTRETCHEDINthe enormous bed with a feeling of contentment that brought a smile to her lips even before she could recall why she felt so darned good. She arched her back and ran her hands over her body, but as her fingertips collided with her nipples, and remembered sensations came screaming back to her, she sat bolt upright, staring across the room at the large mirror.
Heat flushed her body.
Had she really propositioned her husband for sex? And had he really made her feel so incredible with his hands and mouth, and her breasts? Bemused, she stared at her reflection, wondering how she’d never known her body could be capable of such pleasure. His promise hung heavy in the air, driving her feet from the bed. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll go down on you until you see stars.’
She could barely contain her excitement as she ran a brush through her hair and cleaned her teeth, then contemplated pulling on something more modest than the cream silk negligee Luca had bought for her, before realising how absurd that would be considering what she had planned for their morning...
With a heart that was thumping in her chest, she drew open the door to the lounge and stepped out, hoping he’d still be on the sofa.
He wasn’t. Luca was, to her chagrin, fully dressed, eating breakfast at the table with the spectacular view of the canal.
‘Good morning.’ His eyes lingered a little longer than was necessary on her face, scanning as if to see if she had any regrets.
She didn’t, and so smiled with extra wattage, moving towards him slowly at first, a strange sense of nervousness that he might regret what she’d asked of him.
‘Good morning,’ she returned, husky-voiced, standing right in front of him.
Their eyes met and held, and electricity almost gave her a shock.
‘How did you sleep?’
Really? He wanted to talk about sleep?
‘Like a log,’ she murmured.
‘I’m glad.’
‘You?’ She arched a brow, unconsciously teasing him.
‘I didn’t.’
Her laugh was soft and spontaneous. ‘No? Why ever not?’
He scowled at her before gesturing to the table, where an array of pastries and fruit was spread out. ‘I think, even with your innocence, you know the answer to that. Have something to eat.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
His body stiffened. ‘No?’
She put a hand on his shoulder, drawing his gaze to her face. ‘Not for breakfast.’
‘You haven’t changed your mind?’
She pulled a face. ‘After your very effective demonstration last night? Not bloody likely.’
An arrogant smirk changed his features for the briefest moment and then he stood, towering over her. ‘I haven’t changed my mind either, Olivia. We take this slow.’
Oh, how she wanted to rail against that! How she wanted to scream that she was ready and to kindly stop telling her what to do and how she should feel, but even as she felt that surge of anger and frustration, she acknowledged the decency of his hesitation. She’d felt his arousal last night. She’d known he wanted her as badly as she did him, and yet he’d resisted. For her. To look after her. The realisation sent a strange wobble into her chest, and emotions of an entirely different sort threatened to overpower her so she tilted her jaw defiantly, employing all the skills she’d mastered in her life of concealing her thoughts and feelings from the outside world.
‘So?’ she challenged, eyes holding his.
‘Ah, yes. I seem to remember I made you a promise last night.’
‘Yes, you did.’
‘Then I’d better make sure I don’t break it. Are you ready?’