Page 16 of His Innocent's Passionate Awakening

‘No.’ She flashed him a pointed look. ‘Do you need reminding? That kiss was a little enthusiastic for someone who insisted on keeping things on paper.’

His gaze went to her mouth, and the atmosphere throbbed with heightened intensity. ‘Maybe, but it wasn’t a one-way kiss, was it, cara? You were with me all the way.’ His tone was so deep and rough it sent a tingle down her spine. And his eyes contained a glint that made something warm and liquid spill between her thighs.

Artie went to swing away from him but his hand came down on her arm. A shiver coursed through her body at the feel of his long, strong, tanned fingers encircling her wrist. She looked down at his hand on her flesh and the warm, liquid sensation in her lower body spread like fire throughout her pelvis. She lifted her gaze to his and raised her eyebrows in a haughty manner. ‘W-what are you doing?’ Her tone was breathless rather than offended.

His broad thumb began a slow caress over the pulse point on her wrist, the fast-paced throb of her blood betraying her even further. She breathed in the scent of him—the exotic mix of citrus and clean, warm male, her senses reeling from his closeness.

‘We’re married, cara. People will expect us to touch each other.’

Her heart skipped like it was trying to break some sort of record. ‘I’m not used to people touching me.’

Luca brushed his bent knuckles against the curve of her cheek, his gaze holding hers in a sensual lock that made her insides quake with desire. ‘But you like it when I touch you, sì?’ His thumb moved from her pulse point and stroked along her lower lip. ‘You like it very much.’

Artie wanted to deny it but she had hardly helped her case by kissing him back the way she had earlier. Nor was she helping it now by not pulling away from his loose hold. Her willpower had completely deserted her—she wanted his touch, craved it like an addict craved a forbidden substance. She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth, couldn’t stop thinking about the warm, sensual pleasure of it moving against hers. Couldn’t stop thinking about the stroke and glide of his tongue and how it had sent torrents of need racing through her body.

She drew in a ragged breath and forced her gaze back to his. ‘I’m sorry if I keep giving you mixed messages. It wasn’t my intention at all.’

He brought her hand up to his mouth and pressed a barely-there kiss to her bent knuckles, his gaze unwavering on hers. ‘You’re not the only one sending mixed messages.’ He dropped her hand and gave a rueful smile. ‘I’m not going to change the terms of our marriage. It wouldn’t be fair to you.’

Not fair? What was fair about denying her body the fulfilment it craved? ‘Are you worried I might fall in love with you?’ The question popped out before she could stop it.

His dark eyes dipped to her mouth for a moment, his forehead creasing in a frown as if he was quietly considering the possibility of her developing feelings for him. When his gaze came back to hers it was shuttered. Screened with secret thoughts. ‘It would be very foolish of you to do so.’ His voice contained a note of gravity that made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle.

‘Have you ever been in love with anyone?’

‘No.’ His answer was fast and flat.

Artie twirled the empty champagne glass in her hand. ‘I didn’t realise it was possible to prevent oneself from falling in love. From what I’ve heard it just happens and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Maybe you haven’t met the right person yet.’

‘I have no doubt such feelings exist between other people but I have no interest in feeling that way about someone.’

‘Why?’

Luca shrugged one broad shoulder, his gaze still inscrutable. ‘It seems to me an impossible task to be someone’s soulmate. To be everything they need and want you to be. I know I can’t be that person. I’m too selfish.’

Artie wondered if that was entirely true. He was prepared to marry a virtual stranger to keep his grandfather alive for a few more years. How was that selfish? And he was prepared to hand her back the castello at the end of six months instead of keeping his nine-tenths ownership. Hardly the actions of a self-serving man, surely?

Rosa approached at that moment carrying a tray with fresh glasses of champagne. ‘Another quick one before the official photos are taken?’ she asked with a smile. ‘The photographer is setting up near the rose garden.’

Artie put her used glass on the tray and took a new one. ‘Grazie.’

‘And you, Signor Ferrantelli?’ Rosa turned to Luca, offering him a fresh glass off the tray.

He shook his head. ‘Not for me, thanks. One is enough. And please call me Luca.’ He took Artie’s free hand and nodded in the direction of the photographer. ‘Shall we?’

* * *

Once a small set of photos were taken, Artie helped Rosa tidy away the refreshments after the priest and photographer had left. But when the housekeeper announced she was going to have an early night, Artie was left at a loose end. She hadn’t seen Luca since the photo session—he’d said he wanted to check a few things out on the estate and hadn’t yet returned. She’d thought about what he’d said back at the fountain and his reasons for saying it. The more she got to know him, the more she wanted to know. Why was he so adamant about keeping his emotions in check? What was so threatening about loving someone that made him so unwilling to experience it for himself? She might not have any experience when it came to falling in love, but she knew enough from her parents and books and movies it was a real and powerful emotion that was impossible to block once it happened. But since the accident, she had given up on the hope of one day finding true love. Any love she felt would be one-sided, for how could anyone return her love once they knew the destruction she had caused?

Luca had warned her about falling in love with him—‘It would be very foolish of you to do so.’ But how could she stop something that was so beyond her control? She was already aware of her vulnerability where he was concerned. He was so suave and sophisticated, and occupied a world she hadn’t been party to her entire adult life. Hadn’t his passionate, heart-stopping kiss shown her how at risk she was to developing feelings towards him?

Artie circled her wrist where his fingers had held her. A shiver shimmied down her spine as she recalled the tensile strength in his hand, the springy black masculine hairs that peppered his skin, the way his touch spoke to her flesh, awakening it, enlivening it, enticing it. He was temptation personified and she would be a fool indeed to allow her feelings to get the better of her. He had been clear about the terms of their relationship. Why, then, did she ache for more of his touch? Why, then, did she want to feel his mouth on hers again?

Artie sat in the main salon with her embroidery on her lap, when Luca came in. His hair looked tousled from the wind or the passage of his fingers or both. And he had changed out of his morning suit into jeans and a white cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his strong wrists and forearms. The white shirt highlighted his olive-toned tan, the blue jeans the muscled length of his legs. He brought in with him the fresh smell of outdoors and something else...something that made her female hormones sit up straighter and her senses to go on high alert.

She put the sampler she was working on to one side and crossed one leg over the other, working hard to keep her features neutral. ‘I wasn’t sure of your plans, so I got Rosa to make up one of the guest rooms for you. It’s on the second floor—the green suite overlooking the vineyard.’

His gaze held hers with a watchful intensity. ‘So, she knows our marriage is a hands-off affair?’

---