Page 20 of Bound by a One-Night Vow

His eyes went to her mouth, lingering there for a heart-stopping moment as if wondering if their marriage was ever going to stay unconsummated. His gaze returned to hers but a screen had come up. ‘They’re nothing but props. You can keep them or give them away or sell them. It doesn’t matter to me.’ He turned and strode to the suite she had not long vacated.

After a few minutes she heard the shower running and she sat and quietly sipped her tea, trying not to picture him naked under that hot stream of water where she had showered not half an hour ago.

* * *

Andrea stood under the punishing spray of the shower, trying to wash away his unruly desire. He’d made a promise to keep their marriage unconsummated but every time he was within touching distance of Izzy his body went on high alert. Every cell in his body wanted her. He ached with the need to hold her, to feel her body pressed against his, to feel her response to him. A response he knew would be as passionate and heady as her kiss had been. Knowing what he did now about her father made him even more determined to keep his promise. But Izzy seemed determined to poke at his resolve to see if it was as firm as he claimed.

He closed his eyes under the shower spray but he could still picture her mouth. Could still feel it moving beneath his. How many times had he wanted to forget about his damn principles and stride into that bedroom last night and join her in that bed? Desire had throbbed in him all night in fierce combat with his resolve to resist the temptation. It had made it impossible for him to sleep. All he could think about was Izzy lying on his sheets next door, her hair splayed out over his pillow, her slim sexy limbs stretched out and her gorgeous breasts on show. The breasts he fantasised about touching, caressing, kissing until she whimpered with the same longing he could feel thrumming in his blood.

How would he survive six months of this torture?

He would go mad in the process. He wondered now if it was a mistake to whisk her with him to Italy, but the London paparazzi were unbearable. At his private villa in Positano he could at least keep such intrusions to a minimum. And his long-term housekeeper, Gianna, was the soul of discretion. Gianna was the only person he would trust with the secret of his marriage to Izzy.

No one else must know it wasn’t the real deal.

Andrea stepped out of the shower and roughly dried himself, trying not to think of how Izzy had stood in this very spot earlier. Her used towel was hung neatly back on the rail, her cosmetics tidily put back into her toiletries bag. There was a trace of her flowery perfume lingering in the air.

When he came out of the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips, Izzy was sitting on the end of the king-sized bed scrolling through her phone. She looked up and her eyes darted to the towel and then back to his gaze. She sprang up from the bed, her cheeks staining a soft pink. ‘I’ll leave you to get dressed.’

Andrea shouldn’t have reached for her. His mind said, Don’t do it, but his body had other ideas. Wicked, forbidden ideas over which he had no control. His fingers encircled her slim wrist and he felt the flutter of her pulse under the pad of his thumb. ‘Don’t run away.’ His voice was so husky it sounded like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

Her eyes rounded and her throat moved up and down over a swallow. ‘I thought you said we were going to be sensible about this...?’

Andrea lifted her hand to his face, pressing a kiss to her bent knuckles. ‘I said no sleeping together. But I didn’t say no touching. We’ll be expected to touch in public. It would look strange if we didn’t.’ Even he could hear how he was rationalising his behaviour, but he didn’t much care. He felt like he would die if he didn’t touch her.

Doubt flickered in her gaze. ‘What sort of touching?’

He slid his hand along the side of her face until his fingers were enmeshed in her fragrant hair, the silky strands tickling his fingers. Her eyes shone with anticipation, the same anticipation he could feel rolling through his body with unstoppable force.

‘This,’ he said, bringing his mouth to within a breath of hers. He didn’t touch down, but nudged her soft lips with his, once, twice, three times.

Her lips quivered as if she was fighting her own battle to resist the temptation he had laid before her. Her breath mingled with his, sweet and fresh with a hint of vanilla. Her tongue crept out and left a layer of moisture on her lips. He moved that little bit closer to her, his thighs coming into contact with hers. He could feel the quake of awareness that shot through her like aftershocks. Her breasts bumped into his chest. He placed a hand at the small of her back and pressed her closer, his body erupting into flames when he felt her softness against his hardness. He was intoxicated with her closeness. The smell of her. Her womanly heat igniting him like a match to tinder.

His mouth covered hers and he swallowed her sigh of pleasure. Her arms came up to link around his neck, her body pressed so tightly against him he could feel every soft pliable contour. Her mouth opened under his, her tongue tangling with his in a sexy duel that made his blood head south in a throbbing gush. He took control of the kiss, holding her face in his hands to get better access, his tongue stabbing and flicking against hers in a mimic of what his body wanted more than anything. He finally lifted his mouth off hers, resting his forehead against hers as he fought for control. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.’

Izzy’s hands began to toy with his hair, sending hot darting tingles down his spine and deeper into his groin. ‘It’s just a kiss...’ Her eyes met his. ‘Isn’t it?’

Andrea wasn’t sure if he had the self-control to just kiss her. What had he been thinking? He was pushing himself beyond his limits. Torturing himself with what he wanted but couldn’t—shouldn’t—have. He traced her mouth with a lazy finger, watching as she quivered again against his touch. ‘You have such a beautiful mouth.’ He couldn’t seem to keep the gravel out of his tone.

Her eyes went to his mouth, the tip of her tongue sneaking out to moisten her lips once more. ‘Yours isn’t so bad either.’ She brought one of her hands down from around his neck to trace over his bottom lip. ‘It’s a lot softer than it looks.’

He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to the tip of her finger, holding her gaze with his. ‘There isn’t a whole lot of me that’s soft right now.’

Her cheeks were delicately tinged with pink. ‘So I can feel.’ She moved against him, a subtle shift that sent an earthquake of lust through his body. His self-control strained at the leash like a rabid dog. Blood pounded and pulsed through his veins, driven by raw primal need. Had he ever wanted someone as much as he wanted her? Or was it because he had made a promise to himself not to have her? There was a war inside him. A raging battle he wasn’t sure he could win.

But he would have to win it.

He couldn’t allow things to get any more complicated than they already were. But a kiss or two was fine. That wasn’t going to do any harm...was it?

He gripped her by the hips, holding her to him, not caring how much it was torturing him. He wanted. Wanted. Wanted her with a need so great it blasted every other thought out of his head. He brought his mouth back down to hers, crushing her to him, his tongue tangling with the moist heat of hers. He slid his hands down the sides of her body and then up again, slipping underneath her top and travelling up her smooth skin, stopping just below the satin curve of her breasts. He stepped back from her with a willpower he hadn’t known he possessed, his body thrumming, humming, aching with need.

Disappointment flared in her eyes. But then her expression became masked and she stepped away from him and straightened her clothes. ‘What time is our flight?’

Andrea tried not to look at her kiss-swollen mouth and the little patch of stubble rash on her chin. Seeing that intimate marking on her soft creamy skin made something in his stomach slip sideways. He tightened the towel around his hips and moved across to the wardrobe to dress. ‘We leave at eleven a.m. Your things will be sent on from your flat. If you need anything else we can buy it in Italy.’ He closed the wardrobe and turned back around but she had gone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A FEW HOURS later they arrived via chauffeur-driven car at Andrea’s private villa high on the slopes above the seaside village of Positano. Izzy hadn’t been to the Amalfi coast for years and yet it was as magical and picturesque as she remembered it. The startling blue of the ocean below, the wincingly bright sunshine from a perfectly clear sky and the scent of fragrant blossom from the luxurious garden at the villa made her senses sing with joy. Scarlet bougainvillea cascaded from a stone wall, standing pots and hanging baskets of red and white geraniums provided more eye-popping colour. Birds twittered in the shrubs and hedges behind, and in front of the villa was an infinity pool that overlooked the view of the coast below. It was picture postcard perfect and Izzy couldn’t imagine a nicer place to hide away from the penetrating eyes of the public and the press.

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