Bound by the Italian's Contract(53)

                He shook his head, unable to recall one. Even when he was married, he and Isabella had never spent much more than a day together without it ending in an argument.

                But while his compatibility with Caprice was stronger than what he’d had with his wife, he well understood she was using him just the same. The only difference was that he’d known going into it that Caprice was only interested in his money.

                He scraped his fingers through his windblown hair and swore. If he was honest with himself, he was more than fond of Caprice. He admired her. Cared deeply for her. Lusted for her.

                Though he’d been sure that once he’d tasted her passion his ardor would cool, his craving for her this morning disproved that theory. She’d quickly become the wildfire in his blood, and sex only fanned the flames. As did thinking about making love with her, he thought sourly, which was happening too frequently.

                Their affair was short-term at best. So what if her reasons for being with him were selfish? He could be that way as well, wanting her only for the incredible sex.

                That did not have to change when they returned to the lodge, which would be soon. As of an hour ago, the track was cleared and his housekeeper and caretaker had started back to the rifugio.

                There was no reason for him and Caprice to remain here when their careers and obligations demanded they return to the lodge. Once there, he saw no reason why they couldn’t continue their affair for the duration of the contract.

                It would simply be convenient. A mutual give and take. They would both get what they wanted without worry over lasting entanglements. Surely she would not object to that.

                He whirled on a heel and entered to the bedroom. If they hurried they could be on the road in thirty minutes or less, giving them plenty of time to return to the lodge before dark.

                The bed was empty, save the pile of crumpled bedding that streamed from the bed to the floor. “Caprice?”

                “I’m here.”

                He spun around to find her standing in the en suite doorway, eyes wide and sheet clutched to her bosom. The mirror behind her showcased her firm spine and feminine curves of a near-perfect body. Not model perfect. She was “seductive woman” perfect.

                “Did you want something?” she asked, clutching the bath sheet tighter, which only emphasized the enticing globes of her bottom.

                Her show of modesty made him smile.

                “I got a text from my housekeeper. The track is clear.”

                Her eyes brightened. “We can leave then?”

                “As soon as we can.”

                “Great,” she said, moving toward the clothes she’d been wearing off and on for days, though in reality they had been more off of late. “I need to get to work quickly on the project if I’m to have it completed in a month or less.”

                He crossed to her and took her in his arms, loosely caging her there as he bent for a kiss. Sweet as honey. “The time frame is totally up to you. I am not rushing you.”

                She planted her palms on his chest and sighed, her gaze pausing at his chin before lifting to meet his eyes. “I know, but I want to finish your contract so I can get busy on Tregore Lodge. There’s much to do there.”

                “You are anxious to return home.”

                “Of course,” she said, chin coming up. “I’ve never hidden that fact.”