A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir(25)

She was wearing a pretty, ruffled pinafore apron tied around her waist. And beneath that...

Vin suddenly couldn't breathe.

She wasn't wearing anything under the apron.

Nothing at all.

Eyes wide, he stared at her as all the blood rushed south from his head. He couldn't think. He gaped at her.

Scarlett tilted her head, looking up at him mischievously beneath her  dark eyelashes. "Don't you want the martini? It's eggnog-flavored."

He stared at her, frozen, drinking in the vision of Scarlett's long red  hair tumbling down her shoulders, to the tops of her full breasts, just  visible above the ruffled top of the apron. He could see the pale curve  of her naked hips around the edge of the fabric.

"No? Pity." Turning, she set the silver tray down on a nearby table. He  almost fell to his knees as he got the first view of her naked backside,  her lush flesh swaying, each mound perfectly shaped for his palms to  cup roughly in his hands. He licked his lips.

"Where's-where's Nico?" he said hoarsely.

"Sleeping upstairs."

"And Mrs. Stone?"

"It's Christmas Eve, darling. I told her to take some time off. Gave her  a first-class ticket back to see her family in Atlanta."

Vin stood in the great room, surrounded by shadows and light,  dumbfounded by the vision of his wife, half-naked below the enormous,  brilliantly lit Christmas tree, like the gift he'd waited for all his  life.

A wicked smile traced her lips as she started to walk toward him,  slowly, deliberately, her hips swaying. She stopped directly in front of  him, without touching him. He could smell the faint cherry blossom of  her hair, the soft floral of her perfume.

His heart was pounding. He was afraid if he touched her, he would explode.

He was afraid he would explode if he didn't touch her.

"I made dinner," she murmured. "Pasta. I'm keeping it warm for you." She  looked at him demurely, beneath the sweep of her black eyelashes, and  tilted her hip, putting a hand on her bare, creamy skin thrusting out  from the edge of her apron.

Vin didn't speak. Looking down at her, he deliberately started pulling off his tie.

Scarlett's expression, which had been flirtatious and saucy, turned wide like a deer's. She took a nervous step back.

But Vin had no intention of letting her flee. It was too late for that.

Sweeping her into his arms, he pushed her roughly against the wall,  gripping her wrists and holding them firmly against the cool stone.  "What else have you been keeping warm?"

"Vin," she breathed, searching his gaze. "There's something I've wanted to tell you..."

But more talking was the last thing he wanted. Cutting her off, he  lowered his head, plundering her mouth in a ruthless kiss. He felt her  soft, plump lips part beneath his own. Releasing her wrists, he tangled  his hands in her hair, tilting her head backward to deepen the kiss.

She gave a sound like a sigh as her arms wrapped around his shoulders,  pulling him closer. He stroked the sides of her body, her bare skin that  wasn't covered by the prim apron. He shuddered as his fingertips and  palms touched the warm, silky flesh of her hips, her tiny waist beneath  the apron tie, the side curve of her voluptuous breasts. She stood on  her tiptoes, straining to match the hunger in the kiss. He cupped his  hands over the fleshy globes of her naked backside, feeling her  sensuality, her heat-

With a low growl, he lifted her up, pushing her back against the wall,  wrapping her bare legs around his hips. His rock-hard erection strained  between them, with only his trousers and her thin apron separating them.

Bracing her against the wall, he held her sweet backside with one spread  hand-nearly gasping with the pleasure of holding her there-and yanked  open the tie of the apron. Pulling the fabric off her, he tossed it to  the flagstones.

And just like that, he was holding his beautiful wife, in his arms, naked against the wall of their villa in Rome.

The flicker of warm red firelight glowed against her creamy skin,  against her huge breasts with taut red nipples, her long red hair. Her  red lips, swollen from the force of his kiss. Red, so red. Scarlet, like  her name.

As he kissed her, Vin's body shook with need. He struggled to hold  himself back. It was the first time they'd made love as man and wife,  the first time since the baby was born. He should go slow. Carry her  upstairs to their elegant bedroom, to the perfectly appointed king-size  bed. Take his time. Be gentle. Make it last...   





 

She pulled away from his kiss. With her naked legs wrapped around his  trouser-clad hips, she leaned forward. He felt the warmth of her breath,  the faint brush of her lips against the sensitive flesh of his earlobe  as she whispered three little words.

He realized what she'd just said. With an intake of breath, he looked down at her.

They were alone in the great room, beneath the lights of the enormous  Christmas tree that stretched toward the forty-foot ceiling. But even  brighter than the lights of the tree, brighter than the orange and red  flames of the fire, was the blazing glory of Scarlett's eyes.

"I love you," she repeated, as if the words had been building up so long  that she could no longer keep them inside. Reaching out, she cupped his  jawline, the rough bristles of his five-o'clock shadow. His whole body  was shaking.

I love you.

He lost his last tendril of self-control, yanking his tailored trousers  so violently that a button popped to the floor. He ripped his zipper  roughly apart, tearing the fabric to shove his trousers down his taut  hips.

Holding her backside with both hands, he spread her wide, and with one  thrust, he pushed his thick, rock-hard length inside her, filling her  hard and deep.

She gasped, clinging to him. He thrust into her again, holding her  roughly against the wall, stretching her to the hilt. She gripped his  shoulders, head tilted back, eyes closed in fervent need.

He watched her face as he pushed inside her a third time, slowly now,  his own pleasure building as he saw the ecstasy on her face. A whimper  escaped his own lips. Going slow was agony, sheer masochism, when he  ached to rut into her, to explode. Her fingertips gripped deeper into  his tailored white shirt, into the flesh of his shoulders. Her nails cut  wickedly into his skin.

I love you. The soft hush of her words still rang through his ears. Through his heart. I love you.

He forced himself to be still inside her. He was so close to exploding,  hard and thick and aching with need. Drawing back, he filled her again,  inch by rock-hard inch. He felt her hips move against him, sucking him  deeper inside her, as her full, heavy breasts swayed forward. She held  her breath, her muscles tense. She suddenly threw back her head, crying  out his name-

As he heard her scream her pleasure, he could no longer hold himself  back. He rammed into her, fast and rough, crushing her soft breasts  against his hard chest. His growl rose to a shout as he exploded inside  her in pleasure so violent that, as he poured into her, for a single  second his vision went black.

When he regained consciousness, emotion rose in his heart, emotion  stronger than he'd ever felt, emotion that would not be repressed or  denied.

"I love you."

The whisper was low, guttural, achingly vulnerable. For a moment, he  didn't recognize the voice. Then Scarlett, still gripping his shoulders,  looked at him with the most pure joy he'd ever seen on any human face.

And Vin realized with equal parts joy and horror that the voice had been his own.





CHAPTER TEN

HE LOVED HER.

The rhythm of those words was like the beat of Scarlett's heart, the rush of her blood.

He loved her.

She'd been terrified, waiting for him to come home. More than once,  she'd changed her mind and started to get dressed. What if he rejected  her? What if he laughed? What if one of the bodyguards walked in first?

But that hadn't even been her biggest fear.

What if her blatant gamble to seduce her husband back into her bed, and  more important, to confess her love to him, was a total humiliating  failure?

Growing up as she had, Scarlett had needed to be invisible for most of  her life. But somehow, loving Vin gave her the courage to be outrageous  enough to reach for her dreams.

Now they'd all come true.

Christmas morning, Scarlett woke with a smile on her face, hearing her  baby's soft hungry whimper from the nursery next door. She looked at her  husband sleeping beside her, and her smile became a beam of pure joy.

She loved him. And he loved her.

She blessed the internet. The crazy advice had worked better than she'd  ever dreamed. After he'd taken her body so roughly against the wall,  after he'd told her he loved her, Vin had wrapped her shivering body  tenderly in his black jacket, and they'd gone into the enormous new  kitchen to eat the dinner she'd prepared, homemade bread and fettuccine  alla carbonara. Sitting together in the shadowy kitchen, he'd smoothed a  bit of sauce off her cheek, looking at her with dark unreadable eyes,  and all she could think was that she'd never been so happy.

He loved her.

Vin actually loved her.

After dinner, he'd held out his hand and led her upstairs. In their dark  bedroom, he'd silently taken off his clothes and pulled her into the  big bed, where he made love to her again, this time with aching  gentleness. This time, as he pushed into her, their eyes locked, soul to  soul. No separation. No secrets.