When finally he came to his senses he was a dead weight crushing her to the bed, his head cradled against her damp, scented neck, his heart thundering against her, her name echoing in the still air.
Reluctantly he dragged himself up on his elbows, despite her clinging hold. His ribs ached but he didn’t care. He lowered his head, not ready to meet her eyes. One thing was certain. If their loving had branded her as his, the process worked two ways. He felt bound to Poppy as he hadn’t for five years.
How did that fit with his plan to bed her and walk away?
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘No, I CAN’T, BETTINA. That’s the trouble.’
Poppy paused just inside the tower door and let it swing shut behind her. The simmering frustration in Orsino’s voice caught her attention.
Who was Bettina? What had she done to make him so edgy?
Jealousy stabbed Poppy between the ribs and she knew a terrible fear at the realisation.
For four nights she’d shared Orsino’s bed. Nights of frantic passion, untold bliss and early mornings of languorous loving that left her glowing.
She should be horrified and ashamed that she’d capitulated, giving herself to Orsino again. But somehow she’d managed to block out the voice of doom that sniped in her ear. She got through each day hour by hour, not letting herself think beyond the moment.
From the open door to the sitting room she heard Orsino’s tread, heavy across the ancient floor.
‘I’ve tried that but—’ A loud clatter made her jump. Orsino swore. ‘No, no, I’m fine, Bettina. Sorry. It’s these damned eyes. I can see, almost, but every so often I misjudge distances and walk into things.’
There was a pause and the sound of scraping.
‘No, that wasn’t the laptop. I almost wish it was—it’s driving me crazy.’ Another pause. ‘I know, I know, patience.’ He spoke on a long sigh that dragged across her skin.
Poppy moved till she saw Orsino, silhouetted against the lowering grey sky through the window. His shoulders were hunched as he thrust one hand through his hair.
A tingle of heat swarmed up her backbone and her stomach muscles clenched, just from the pleasure of watching him.
That had to be bad. When just looking at him made her body react.
Her lips firmed. There was nothing wrong with enjoying physical attraction, the new Poppy told herself, so long as it was just that. Nothing … complicated by emotions.
They’d finished shooting early when the threatening skies had finally opened in a downpour and she’d hurried back here, brushing off an invitation to join the others.
It struck her as she drank in the sight of Orsino’s big, bold frame that she’d never questioned how he occupied his time while she worked. They’d each been careful not to extend their conversation beyond what happened in the bedroom. But knowing Orsino and his appetite for action, being cooped here without something to do was way out of character.
Now she felt overwhelming curiosity. About what was on that laptop. And about Bettina.
She stepped closer and his head snapped round. Poppy rocked back on her heels as their gazes locked and desire punched hard and low.
Just like that!
Wanton images filled her head. She and Orsino tangled together on the wide couch below the mullioned window. Orsino naked on the rug before the crackling fire, beckoning her close. The dark fire in his eyes as he drove her to climax then held her as the world faded into a blur.
‘Don’t worry, Bettina. I’ll try again later. Bye.’ He didn’t sound in the least loverlike.
Poppy told herself his relationships didn’t matter to her. But she lied. Was Bettina his lover? Distress squirmed in her belly. She schooled her face to hide it.
‘You’re back early.’
She shrugged, nodding to the rain pelting against the glass. ‘We filmed outdoors but the weather beat us. We’ll work inside tomorrow.’
He slipped his phone away and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t reach for her and she wondered if she’d intruded on something. His wary stance put her senses on alert.
Deliberately she wandered closer, looking casually towards the enormous fireplace, noting the laptop open on an ottoman and a bundle of papers on the arm of a wing chair.
She kept her expression neutral as she met his eyes. No dark glasses today.
With a flick of deft fingers she undid her coat and shrugged it off, trailing it over the back of a tapestry-upholstered chair. Something flickered across his face and was gone.
‘You don’t seem pleased to see me, Orsino. Am I interrupting something?’ She was close enough now to see he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended. His gaze was riveted on her lips, still a glossy rich crimson from today’s shoot. His big hands clenched at his sides and his chest rose mightily as if he struggled to inhale enough oxygen.