The Chatsfield: Series 2. Кейт Хьюит
dressed in lush dark red sheets was the focal point. It was a room for sensual abandon. A room for lovers.
Keelin turned around and came face to face with Gianni’s chest. She looked up and could only see the stark and determined lines of his face. Her gut turned to jelly. He put his hands on her arms and slowly walked her backwards into the room, kicking the door shut behind him with a foot.
Her heart was thumping, blood racing. ‘Gianni, please, we should talk about this.’ She winced inwardly when she recalled her words: I’ve been with, like, tons of guys.
He took his arms off her and moved into the room, saying curtly, ‘Funnily enough, I’m done with talking.’ He pulled off his jacket and threw it down on a chair, a hand reaching up to his cravat.
Keelin gulped.
‘Don’t just stand there, mia moglie, take off your dress.’
When she didn’t move he just said coldly, ‘Now.’ He tore off his cravat and started on the buttons of his shirt to reveal his magnificent chest bit by bit, and panic gripped Keelin in earnest. He was so masculine.
When his shirt was half open he made a sound of frustration and irritation deep in his throat and abandoned undoing more buttons to stride over to Keelin.
Black eyes raked her up and down and he said throatily, ‘Do you know what this dress has done to me all day?’
Keelin shook her head, fascinated by the intensity in his expression. He reached out and traced the lace edging that sat against her collarbone. Her breath hitched and her nipples went stiff against the material. Her hands felt sweaty.
‘This dress has kept me on the very edge of my control. You wore it deliberately to provoke me, didn’t you? Even if you did harbour the somewhat misguided hope that you could actually avoid marrying me.‘Maybe,’ he said now, musingly, ‘I should have tried reverse psychology with you from the start? If I’d sent you this dress to wear, then you might have worn the other one, but you know what? I prefer this, because this dress is all about one thing—the only thing I’m interested in right now.’
Feeling dazed, and mesmerised, conscious of Gianni’s finger moving back and forth seductively under the neck of the dress against her skin, she just said faintly, ‘What’s that?’
He looked at her, black clashing with green.
‘Sex, Keelin. I want to make love to my beautiful wife.’
And with the most gentle yet deliberate of movements he brought his finger down the center of her dress, and the delicate lace ripped apart like butter melting either side of a hot knife until he got to the top of the bodice under the lace, just above her cleavage.
Then his other hand came up and with both hands he tore the lace edging away completely from front and back, so now Keelin stood before him in a strapless sheath of a minidress, with the remains of her sheer lace sleeves still on her arms. She might have appreciated the sartorial edginess of the look if she wasn’t engulfed in shock and heat.
Gianni looked down at her, seeing her breasts barely confined by the bodice. For a moment she had a vision of him ripping that clean apart too. The fact that she wanted him to make love to her was a revelation that she couldn’t really wrap her head around. How had it come to this so quickly? And yet she knew that if she had a choice right now, she wouldn’t walk away. She was burning up inside and only he could assuage that.
She also had a keen sense of just how far she’d pushed him this time. He was clearly not in a gentle mood. And even though a part of her felt excited at his passion, another more sensible part knew she had to tell him the truth.
Her voice was shaky. ‘Gianni, wait, there’s something I should tell you.’
They were way beyond games now. Here was a bristling alpha male demanding his mate, and Keelin knew from the bulge in his trousers that she’d been aware of all day that he was more than ready to take her to bed. And while a part of her thrilled at that and ached for it too, she couldn’t. Not like this. She wasn’t experienced enough for him in this mood.
He bit out, ‘Keelin, so help me, Dio.’
Fear fluttered along Keelin’s nerve endings dousing her desire. ‘The thing is, I haven’t been entirely honest.’
He was silent for a long moment and then he emitted a curt unamused laugh. ‘Honest? Principessa, you wouldn’t know honesty if it jumped up and bit you on the ass.’
Keelin stung at that and she curled in on herself, inwardly. This man hated her. He was only marrying her because she came with a pass to unlimited business growth and potential. And here she was quivering before him like a virgin on their wedding night. Well, that might be because you are a virgin, a voice pointed out.
Gianni wrapped two hands around Keelin’s waist, hauling her into his hard body. His hard, hot body.
‘Bella, I know exactly what you are now. An amoral spoilt little liar who seeks only to get her own way, but I’ve won this round and now it’s time for my prize and I’m going to claim it before I die of frustration.’
Then his mouth was on hers, hot and hard and demanding and so ruthlessly passionate that it scrambled every one of Keelin’s functioning brain cells. Every corner of her body wanted this in spite of what her head was telling her about going slowly.
It was only when she felt his hands come to the zip at the back of the dress that some sanity broke through. She pulled her mouth away and pushed both hands against his chest. Hard. ‘No.’
Gianni looked at her. About to explode. Fingers poised to undress her completely.
‘We need to stop, you need to stop.’ Her mouth felt swollen. She backed away, dislodging his hands, and sucked in a deep quivering breath. ‘The thing is that I’ve never done this before. I’m a virgin...’
Gianni just looked at her. Disbelief was etched onto his face. And then other expressions followed: derision, disdain and disgust. He backed away too.
Humiliation made her skin prickle to know she’d laid herself so bare for his ridicule. ‘Gianni, wait, I—’
He put up a hand. ‘Basta. I don’t want to hear it, Keelin. I’ve had enough of your lies and playacting. Just go to bed. Damn you.’
And then he turned around and walked out, the door closing with incongruous softness behind him. Keelin looked at it in the gloom for a long time before reaction set in and she started to shake. The slivers of lace on the floor mocking her.
Her mind mercifully went to some numb place, induced by shock, fatigue and an overload of emotion. Vaguely aware of what she was doing, she kicked off her shoes and found the zip at the back of the dress, yanking it down. She stepped out of it and went to the bed, and climbed into it, pulling the luxurious covers over her body. And then she weakly shut out all of the voices and recriminations and slept.
* * *
When Keelin woke in the morning it took her long minutes to figure out where she was and why she was in her underwear in the most sumptuously soft bed she’d ever lain in.
Then she opened her eyes and took in the room and it all came flooding back, along with the reality of opulent dark red furnishings and antique furniture.
She came up on her elbows and looked around. The curtains hadn’t been drawn so she pushed back the covers and got out, squinting a little at the daylight outside. A robe was behind the bathroom door, so after splashing some water on her face she pulled it on.
There were French doors and a balcony so she opened the doors and stepped out. The view took her breath away. Undulating green hills as far as the eye could see. For a moment she felt absurdly homesick as it reminded her of Ireland.
And then a low but powerful noise impacted—and she realised that that must have woken her up. And just as she thought that, she saw the helicopter rise up from the back