Page 23 of Italian Baby Shock

Yet she hadn’t. That night in his arms she’d given him everything. She’d been so generous, giving him her complete and utter trust. He’d never had that before from anyone. He’d never felt as if he held someone’s soul in his hands and never wanted to.

He was as his parents had made him, as selfish and self-serving as they were. Unlike them though, he owned it. He didn’t pretend. They’d used him in their private war against each other, telling him that they cared about him, that they were doing this for him, but they weren’t. He was the weapon they aimed at each other and when that weapon no longer had the power to hurt, they’d discarded him.

Everything he did, his every action was on them. He’d been going to tear apart their precious Donati legacy and plough any leftover ashes into the ground, take his revenge for how his father had locked him away for months in order to punish his mother. How his mother had then tried to kill him in order to hurt his father. She’d failed at that luckily, but not before his father had shot her and then himself.

Really, the whole thing had been almost farcical in its drama, so was it any wonder he’d turned out the way he had?

Of course, now he had an heir, things were different and he’d changed his mind about his revenge, but that still didn’t mean he could be trusted with anyone’s soul. He didn’t want to be trusted anyway, and he was glad that this time Lark hadn’t been so emotionally honest. She’d been angry and guarded with him since the moment she’d got on the plane, and he suspected the passion she’d let out to play hadn’t been so much about him as about herself.

He wasn’t complaining, though. He was familiar with the heat that lay beneath the surface of her cheerful smiles, and when she’d slid her hand down over the front of his trousers, desire darkening the green of her eyes, he’d felt nothing but pure satisfaction that she was giving in to it. She hadn’t hesitated in touching him, her boldness gripping him by the throat and not letting go.

She’d pushed him, demanding he repeat the same words he’d ordered from her, and he had, without protest. Perhaps he shouldn’t have allowed her that power, yet her response had been so very gratifying....

She shifted in his lap, but he tightened his arms around her, keeping her where she was.

He wanted to hold her a bit longer, his brain already running through plans about how he could have this again, keep her naked like this and in his arms. Not for ever, naturally, but forenough time that he didn’t feel this nagging need. That he could finally look at other women and feel desire for them the way he used to instead of being consumed by thoughts of Lark.

And why couldn’t he have this again? What was stopping them from sleeping with each other when the need arose? They had significant chemistry and gave each other great pleasure. She could hardly say no to that.

Her fingers spread on his chest, pressing herself away and this time he reluctantly released his hold. She lifted her head, her cheeks pink, her hair coming out of its ponytail, all mussed by the grip of his hands. She looked thoroughly and totally ravished, the mere sight of her making him hard.

‘I think,’ she began in a husky voice. ‘That that was a mist—’

‘No,’ he interrupted abruptly. ‘No, it wasnota mistake.’ He lifted his hands and cupped her face, her skin like silk against his palms. ‘It was perfect, little bird. Just as the night we spent together was perfect.’

She flushed. ‘It can’t happen again.’

‘Why not?’

A breath escaped her and she pulled away, sliding out of his lap and reaching for her discarded clothing. ‘Because I don’t want it to.’ She turned and began to dress. ‘What I wanted was to remember that night or at least what it felt like to have sex with you. I still don’t remember, but at least now I’ve had sex with you. I don’t need another demonstration and especially not when we still have the issue of this stupid paternity test to deal with.’

She kept her face turned resolutely away, a thread of emotion in her voice that made him want to reach for her, turn her so he could look into her eyes and see what it was.

But that wasn’t keeping it just about sex. That was engaging and he didn’t want to engage, especially not with anything resembling emotion.

If she didn’t want to sleep with him again, that was fine. It didn’t matter and why would it? When he could get pleasure from anyone? He only had to crook a finger and women came running, so this one’s refusal shouldn’t affect him at all.

Yet he couldn’t deny that something like frustration coiled like a snake inside him. Frustration at being denied. Frustration because he wanted more, wanted her and only her. No one else would do.

If she hadn’t been so passionate with him then he’d have accepted that no and never thought of her again. But shehadbeen passionate with him. She’d come apart so beautifully in his arms, crying his name, and she was fooling herself if she thought she didn’t want him again. Still Maya was a legitimate reason for her not to want anything more from him, and even though it was to his detriment, he admired her for putting her daughter ahead of her own desires. Unlike his mother, who’d fed him poison purely to punish his father.

Perhaps Lark would think differently once she’d accepted that he was Maya’s father. Whatever the case, he certainly wasn’t going to chase her. No, he wanted her to come to him. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t weigh the dice in his favour.

‘Once on a plane is not really enough to know what sex with me is like,’ he said, watching her dress, unable to take his gaze off her. It felt like a loss when she covered up all that pretty bare skin.

She gave him a sidelong look as she put on her bra then began to do up the buttons of her blouse. ‘Did I mention how arrogant you are?’

He ignored that, leisurely dealing with the condom and his own clothes, not missing how she kept glancing at the movement of his hands as if she too couldn’t keep her eyes off him. ‘I’d reserve judgement until we have a bed if I were you.’

‘But you’re not me and my judgement is just fine, thank you very much.’

Cesare studied her, noting her pink her cheeks and the slight tremble of her hands. Remembering the way she’d clutched at him and how she’d cried his name as she came.

She’d wanted him very much and he suspected she still did, but she didn’t want to admit it.

‘Why is it so hard to admit you still want me, little bird?’ he asked idly. ‘I still want you.’

Her flush deepened. ‘Because I don’t. I was curious to see what sex with you was like and now I know. Curiosity satisfied.’

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