Page 17 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

Tilting her chin with his thumb, he stared down at her for a long moment, before slowly bending his mouth to hers. And although Kelly thought she was prepared for his kiss she was mistaken, because it wasn’t what she was expecting. She swayed. Just whathadshe been expecting? A brutal crushing of his lips? A blatant demonstration of sexual mastery? Yeah. All that. But…

Not this.

She gasped as his lips whispered provocatively over hers. Why, their flesh was barely touching, so how could it possibly feel this good? It was as if he was tantalising her in slow motion, making all the unfulfilled desire inside her burst into sudden and vital life. Heat flooded her as his lips coaxed hers apart, allowing him to slide his tongue inside her mouth, and it felt so intimate, she thought dreamily, as she slid her arms around his neck. And so easy. As if she’d been waiting all her life for a man to kiss her like that. It made every other kiss she’d ever had—and there hadn’t been many—seem like a travesty.

He made a small growling sound as he deepened the kiss, his fingers weaving themselves through her curls, and she felt her hairband loosen. And now his hands were roving over her pyjama jacket and he was uttering something urgent in Italian, cupping her breasts through the thick material, as if he were silently weighing the engorged flesh—as people sometimes did when they were buying melons in the market. She gasped as he turned his attention to her nipples, and the tips were so hard that they felt like bullets.

‘Please,’ she moaned, with a restless writhe of her hips.

‘Please, what, Kelly?’

But he didn’t seem to be expecting an answer and Kelly choked out a sigh of relief as at last he began to undo the jacket buttons with shaking fingers—briefly marvelling that she could make such a man tremble like this. The cool air hit her heated skin and she heard his silky murmur of approval as he bent his head to one thrusting mound, drawing a tight bud into his mouth and beginning to lick it with sensual precision.

‘Is this what you wanted?’ he queried, his voice muffled against her flesh.

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘I can’t hear you, Kelly.’

‘Yes!’ she burst out. ‘You know it is!’

‘Sì,’he answered, almost grimly.‘Lo so.’

Almost giddy with pleasure, she closed her eyes as he began to tease her puckered flesh with his tongue. Her body felt boneless, her blood thick and sweet. She was dissolving beneath his touch. She moaned as he slid his hand beneath the waistband of her pyjama bottoms, seeking access to where the aching was fast becoming unbearable. She heard his low laugh of pleasure as she opened her thighs for him, as if this were something she’d done a million times before. Again she moaned as his finger glided over her slick flesh, making contact with that most intimate part of her, and instinct made her angle her hips towards him as she sensed his sudden hesitation.

Was she doing everything she was supposed to do? Was he expecting her to touch him back—and if so, where did she even begin? Through the denim, perhaps—or did she carefully unzip him, where the fabric was straining over that formidable mound? She was a bit daunted by that, because she had never undressed a man before. Her throat dried. And there were other considerations, too. Should she tell him she was a virgin, or might that put him off?

‘Romano,’ she whispered, when suddenly he drew back from her, shaking his dark head.

‘Not here,’ he groaned as he straightened up. ‘And not like this.’

She gazed at him in confusion. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘We’re going upstairs,’ he growled.

‘Wh-why?’

‘Why do you think? Do just want me to take you over there on that table where the servants will have their morning coffee?’ he demanded, his breathing unsteady. ‘Or would you prefer it up against the wall?’ He tilted her chin with his finger, so that their eyes were on a collision course. ‘Is rough and ready how you like it best, Kelly?’

Now didn’t seem the right time to tell him that she didn’t have a clue how she liked it—and besides, wasn’t conversation redundant when he was lacing his fingers through hers and leading her out of the kitchen? But when they reached the doorway, he stopped, his whole demeanour altering as he let go of her hand. And suddenly, his features were shuttered and his black eyes were empty. All that blazing hunger had gone—just as if it had never been.

‘I want you to go upstairs. Alone. I’m giving us both the opportunity to change our minds. A breathing space, if you like,’ he elaborated unsteadily. He gave a short laugh. ‘It might be better for both of us if we did.’

It was then that Kelly realised that this could all come to nothing. That passion could wither just as quickly as it had bloomed. And then what? Didn’t this near-encounter have the power to torture her with unfulfilled promise—the ripples of it persistently lingering, leaving her hollow and aching and unable to move on? She wanted to hurl herself into his arms and plead with him to just have done with it—to ease her longing and frustration right now, and set her free. But she realised Romano Castelliari had probably spent a lifetime being begged to do things by women and that his ego and famous double standards would despise any kind of neediness on her part.

Which was why she managed to shrug in a nonchalant way, feeling a tug of triumph as she watched his gaze flicker reluctantly to the sway of her breasts. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said insouciantly, but he caught hold of her wrist.

‘Leave your light on if you want me,’ he told her roughly. ‘If the room is in darkness, we will forget this has ever happened. Now go. Quickly. Just go.’

CHAPTER SIX

HE WAITED.

For fifteen long minutes, which ticked by with unbearable slowness, Romano waited, convincing himself that Kelly must have had second thoughts by now. Of course she would. They were sworn enemies, weren’t they? They had history. And why the hell was he givingherthe power of making a decision? There was nothing stopping him from turning off his light and going to sleep and putting it out of his mind completely. He’d spent a whole lifetime asserting his self-will and sense of control and it had never let him down before.

But tonight he seemed powerless to resist the urgent demands of his body. He couldn’t seem to shake off the memory of how good she had felt in his arms, just as he couldn’t seem to eradicate the scent of her sex, which lingered on his fingers. Actually, he didn’t even try. Just lay there drifting them beneath his nostrils and imagined putting his mouth to that sweet, moist spot. Until, like a man enchanted, he slipped from his room, silently making his way to the second floor where his nemesis lay, his heart pounding erratically when he saw the thin shaft of golden light spilling out from beneath the wooden door.

His groin hardened as he acknowledged the silent invitation, but still he made an effort to fight it. Go, he urged himself, with a sudden swift stab of desperation. Go now, while you still can. But despite the reservations which were stabbing into his mind, he found himself pushing open the wooden door and closing it quietly behind him.

---