Page 27 of Royally Roma
He never should have kissed her. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t behave this way. Ever.
After all, he was supposed to be thegoodprince.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Julia wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand there and pretend she wasn’t coming apart. Everything within her wanted to arch toward Mano, to press closer and closer until the terrible ache inside her was satisfied.
What had he done to her?
She’d had to forcibly remind herself that not only was this man a complete and total stranger, but also a stranger who’d gotten her in deep trouble with her boss.
Yet she could still feel Mano’s hands on her, his mouth. She would feel it for days, if not weeks. If not forever. No one had ever touched her in such a way before. As if she were a treasure, as precious as one of the masterpieces that people flocked to Rome to admire. The Trevi Fountain, or Bernini’sApollo and Daphneat Galleria Borghese.
She closed her eyes and imagined his hands on her breasts, her thighs, tangled in her hair. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her body trembled with need.
This cannot be happening.
She didn’t want to feel this way. It didn’t make sense. Why him, of all people? She didn’t even know him. And here she was, wishing, hoping, and wanting...wanting him inside her.
She would not do this. She couldn’t. He was far more dangerous than Elio. Elio had left her brokenhearted. This man would leave her broken. Period. Kissing him alone had almost been the death of her.
Besides, how many times could she possibly jeopardize her job in the span of a few short hours?
Heart thudding, she opened her eyes to find he’d backed away. They now stood several chaste feet apart, and Niccolo was staring down at her with a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher.
Anger? No, not quite. He appraised her with a single, raised brow. Mortified, she recognized his expression as cool detachment. He simply stood there watching her as she burned for him.
Her breasts ached. The throbbing between her legs was excruciating, like nothing she’d experienced before. Desire so intense it was a living, breathing entity. Surely he could see it.
She felt every bit as naked as if he’d undressed her. Exposed. Vulnerable.
She wanted to die.
“As you wish. I apologize,” he said, straightening his tie and drawing her gaze to his hands. Those magic fingertips that had felt as if they held a world of forbidden promises.
She wished the hallowed ground of the Colosseum would open up and swallow her whole.
“Apologize? Whatever for?” She squared her shoulders and prayed he didn’t hear the slight tremor in her voice. His effect on her was devastating. It terrified her.
“For kissing you when it was so clearlynotsomething you wanted.” His dark gaze lingered on her mouth for a long, heated moment. “It won’t happen again.”
Every cell in her rebellious body wept.
“Good,” she lied.
“Good,” he echoed, an angry knot forming in his jaw.
She peeled herself off the wall and straightened her blouse. Her head spun a little. Was it her imagination, or did the world look different somehow? Brighter, more colorful.
Don’t be ridiculous. It was just a kiss.
Just a kiss. She’d never heard a more massive understatement in her life. It was like calling the Colosseum just a building. Rome, just a city.
“Shall we resume the tour now?” She crossed her arms and did her best to ignore the sensations that were still running rampant through her body.
“The tour,” he said flatly. “Yes, of course.”
