It had been amazing, fantastic! Taking her to a plane of sensuality she hadn’t known existed, had never known could exist! Just as, she felt her breath catch with wonder, Luca Farnese was a man she had never known could exist...not outside her dreams and longings.
She turned, reaching instinctively for him. Wanting to be in his arms again, to hold him close—hold this most incredible man, who had suddenly appeared in her life, setting her on fire for him....
A man, she realised, with a sudden hollowing of her stomach, who was no longer beside her in the bed.
She jolted herself up on her elbows, staring around. There was no one there. The room was empty. The only clothing visible was her own—her discarded dress and underwear on the chair where she’d left them.
Emptiness filled the room. The en suite bathroom door stood open...the room was empty. She jack-knifed up, feeling her muscles and limbs protest at the sudden movement.
Limbs that had strained with their every fibre against the hardness of his.
Her hands had clung to his back, his shoulders, his hips, indenting deeply. Her neck and throat had arched as her spine had arched, as orgasm after orgasm had exploded through her, and her voice had cried out with it.
Memory drenched through her like scalding water and she gave a cry, her hand flying to her mouth. Between her legs a dull ache was throbbing, low and persistent. Testimony she could not deny.
Just as the empty room was testimony.
She stared around, feeling her heart start to thud with apprehension. Disbelief. Dismay.
Slowly, very slowly, she stood up, heart thudding more heavily. She looked about her. Apart from her clothes, the only thing she saw was her clutch bag on the unit beside the TV. And the note propped against the screen.
With shaking hands she snatched it up, opened it. Read the brief, curt words incised on the paper.
I have to go. Room service is on the tab for breakfast. I wish you well.
He’d signed it with his initials.LF. That was all.
She let the note fall from her hand. Numbly, still disbelieving that he had gone, she walked into the en suite bathroom, unhooked the towelling robe there and thrust her arms into it, knotting it tightly around her body. She could feel the thudding of her heart become a hammering. Feel nausea rising in her.
Like an automaton she crossed the bedroom, bare feet sinking into the carpet, pulling open the door with nerveless fingers as she registered, belatedly, what the noise that had woken her had been.
Luca Farnese leaving. Walking out on her.
As if what had happened was nothing—nothing...
She stepped into the corridor, saw him standing a few metres away by the elevator.
‘Why?’
The single word fell from her lips.
He turned, his expression masked.
He did not bother to ask her what she meant.
‘Last night was a mistake.’
His voice was curt and clipped.
‘A mistake?’ Ariana’s voice was hollow.
An impatient look crossed his face.
‘It should not have happened,’ he said. His mouth thinned. ‘If you had any...expectations...please accept my regrets for the misunderstanding.’
Ariana’s face convulsed. But he was not done yet.
‘I wish you well,’ he said. ‘However, I can have nothing more to do with you.’