‘Leo, the place looks like something from a fairy tale.' She sighed, wandering through the archway. Her breath caught as she took in the enormous Christmas tree that dominated the room. The tree had to be at least nine feet tall, and was perfectly decorated in an array of red and gold. ‘Did you do this all by yourself?' she asked, still stunned by all the effort he'd gone to.
‘I had some help,' he admitted. ‘I remembered you spoke about how much you loved the traditional family Christmases you had as a child.' Moving his weight onto one foot, he leaned against the archway and watched her. ‘Do you like it?'
Dara turned to him, feeling tears well up in her eyes as she realised that her powerful jet-setting husband was actually nervous.
‘Leo, this is so thoughtful, I'm actually-' She swallowed down her emotion, trying not to ruin the moment with silly tears.
‘What's wrong? Have I upset you?' Leo was by her side in an instant and enveloping her into his strong embrace. ‘I know that we usually spend this time of year somewhere warmer and more exotic. Are you disappointed?'
Dara shook her head quickly, looking up into the brilliant emerald depths of his eyes. He was so serious, so concerned, and yet she couldn't seem to find the words to assure him that this was wonderful.
‘It's perfect,' she rasped. ‘Thank you.'
She felt his arms relax around her, pulling her closer into the wall of his chest. She tilted her head up and claimed his mouth in a kiss full of heat and promise.
Leo groaned and smoothed his hands down Dara's back slowly, allowing his hands to rest on her supple curves. She was still as addictive as ever, his wife. And he'd be damned, but he couldn't wait another moment before having her.
The soft rug before the fire made for an excellent makeshift bed. He lowered them both to the floor slowly, unbuttoning his shirt in the process. Dara began to pull at the buttons on her own blouse, but Leo had other plans. He laid a hand gently on top of hers.
‘I've been fantasizing for weeks about undressing you,' he whispered sensuously as he ran a slow, torturous hand down her ribcage.
Dara shivered, heat rising in her cheeks. ‘You still fantasize about me?' She looked doubtful.
‘Amore mio, you are the only woman who gets me like this. Look at me-I'm rock-hard and struggling for breath after one kiss.'
Dara's eyes sparked with possession as she laid her hand on his belt buckle. ‘I'm glad. Because I plan on being the only woman for a long time yet.'
Leo sucked in a breath as her fingers undid the buckle, lowering the zip of his trousers in one smooth movement. Her hand wandered, momentarily grazing his erection and making him groan.
‘Such a tease,' he growled, pushing her back down onto the rug. ‘This is my fantasy, remember?'
Leo grabbed the waistline of her pencil skirt, tugging it low on her hips before removing it completely. What he saw beneath made his eyes widen and his heart thump uncomfortably. Delicate thigh-high stockings covered her legs, held in place by a black lace garter belt.
‘This is new.' He felt his throat run dry.
Dara's blush deepened. ‘I had a feeling you'd like it.'
Leo ran his hand across the flimsy lace, feeling the heat of her skin underneath. A matching thong was the only thing that lay between his fingers and the moist heat of her delicate skin beneath.
‘I planned to take my time...' He bit his lower lip, watching her eyes darken as she arched her hips against his hand. He leaned down, taking the lace between his teeth as he undid one catch and rolled the stocking slowly down the smooth skin of her thigh. Discarding it on the floor, he turned his attention to the other thigh and repeated the action. Dara shivered, unconsciously spreading her thighs wide for him. Or maybe it wasn't unconscious at all; maybe she was deliberately trying to drive him insane.
Pushing the thin lace to one side, Leo trailed one fingertip along the slick crease between her thighs. Dara moaned under his touch, pressing closer into his hand. He could tell that she was ready for him. But a wicked part of him made her wait a moment longer. He leaned just close enough to blow a single breath of hot air against her sensitive flesh.
Dara gasped, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck to pull him closer.
The action drove him wild. She was flushed and breathing harshly. Leo obeyed her breathless plea, pressing his lips to her tender flesh and hearing her groan in response. He moved his mouth in sync with his fingers, driving her closer and closer to that point of no return. He felt her body tense under the onslaught of pleasure. A single curse escaped those delicate lips as she reached her climax.
No sooner had her aftershocks subsided than he was thrusting deep inside her, sinking into her molten heat with a muttered curse of his own. ‘Oh, Dio, I've missed this.' He groaned as he built up a steady rhythm, spreading her legs wide as he leaned down and took one taut nipple into his mouth.
Dara caressed his back with her fingertips as he drove into her with all the control he could muster.
His release came hard and fast, taking them both by surprise.
Once the wave of pleasure had subsided, he sank down on the rug by her side and exhaled hard.
Dara sat up on one elbow, tracing the hairs on his chest idly. ‘That was worth the wait.'
Leo murmured his agreement, feeling her hands on his chest and listening to her rhythmic breathing as his eyes closed.
Dara couldn't sleep. She stared up at the two stockings that hung over the fireplace. They looked so plain, so small on that huge mantelpiece. That same feeling that had plagued her for the past few months threatened to overcome her again.
This wasn't about the stockings.
The same way as her frequent trips to Syracuse had nothing at all to do with business.
Since they had opened up their charitable project, the Valente Foundation, she had been required to attend a handful of fundraisers and benefits. Her presence wasn't necessarily required in any of the institutions they supported on a day-to-day basis, and yet she had found herself taking on the role of patroness at the Syracuse orphanage with the aim of being a silent figure.
The first couple of trips had been to check on the progress of some renovations, and then she had arranged for a new playground to be built. That playground had been finished in the summer, and yet she still found reason to visit as often as she could manage. With Leo away she had found herself making the hour-long trip up to three times a week. Even the ever-smiling house matron had begun to look confused at her continued presence.
There were stockings up on the fireplace at the orphanage too. Seventeen of them, side by side, hanging on a string in the common room. Now that Leo was home she supposed she would find no reason to go to Syracuse again. He would ask questions about why she visited only one orphanage-why not all the others? Why not the hospitals? He would know, just as she knew, that her actions weren't about being charitable at all.
The press had been merciless in the beginning: everyone had wanted to see Leo Valente transformed from playboy to father. Dara had never made a secret of her inability to bear children, so it had been no surprise that the press had caught wind of it soon after their wedding. The rumour mill had gone into overdrive. Would they adopt? Would they use a surrogate? They'd been a hot topic for quite some time.
They had decided that their business was their own, and that their choice to remain childless was both private and definite.
Hot tears threatened to fall from her eyes now, as emotion built in her throat. It just didn't make sense. She had made it clear from the start-before they married-that children were not in her future. She'd made her peace with that on a hospital bed, upon being informed that her condition was incurable. She hadn't been foolish enough to hold out any hope of some day carrying a child of her own. It was better to be realistic. She had never had strong maternal tendencies anyway. For goodness' sake, she was a workaholic and a complete neat freak-both qualities didn't exactly mix well with motherhood.
She knew all this and yet she had been selfish enough to go back to the orphanage after that first time. Selfish and inconsiderate.
She had been plagued by a sense of restlessness these past few months. Married life was wonderful, and her success in her career was at an all-time high. And yet it seemed as if the only time she felt whole these days was when she was there.
The children were wonderfully well behaved, thanks to the efforts of the brilliant schoolteachers led by Matron Anna. Each visit brought with it new adventures filled with laughter. Life was less serious, less stressful.
A vision of small brown eyes and a playful grin filled her mind. A small hand holding on to hers so tightly. She couldn't keep lying to herself. There was only one reason why she kept going back there, and that reason had a mischievous smile and liked to curl up on her lap to read.