Consequence of His Revenge(18)

Nice. “So you regret giving me your virginity.”

“A little.” She reached to touch a button on the headboard. Sighed as she dropped her arm back to her side. “You already have all the advantages. Now you have this to lord over me, too.”

“Why give it to me, then?” It was the other question sizzling in his brain.

Her mouth twisted. “I wanted to. I’ve never had much personal choice, so I take it where I find it.”

He caressed her jaw, gently taking hold of it, feeling her tense, but he wanted to see into her eyes. They were brimming with anxiety. Defenselessness.

He stroked the backs of his knuckles into the warm flesh beneath her jaw and below, down her throat, enjoying the way she shivered and softened. The response of this woman. She made him feel like a god. He wanted to strip her naked and bury himself inside her all over again, just to reach that level of supreme euphoria.

But she was so new to this, she didn’t see how much power she had over him, which was a good thing.

He kissed her. Just long enough to find her response. To reassure himself it was there and, yes, maybe to reinforce his power over her. His hand was still on her neck, and he felt the throb of her pulse and the vibration of her helpless sob as it emanated.

He lifted his head and she ducked her chin. “What about you? Regret?”

“Yes.”

Her breath rushed out and her eyes filled, stunned with injury. He touched her swollen mouth with his thumb, and she drew her lips in so the pad of his thumb rested on a flat line.

“I don’t sleep with employees or anyone else with whom I have other types of relationships,” he explained. “I prefer to compartmentalize. Keep lines drawn so feelings don’t color facts.”

She withdrew from his touch completely, sliding backward across the mattress. “And what you feel for me is hatred, isn’t it? It bothers me that I made love with someone who hates me.”

His chest tightened. Hatred was a damned slippery fish to hang on to right now.

Her lashes dropped and the corners of her mouth were heavy. “Maybe I deserve it, since it’s my fault my father stole from you, but it still hurts.” Her subdued voice held a lot of pain. “I said I’d do anything to get rid of that cloud over me, but I don’t think this did anything except scrape away what little respect you might have had for me. So now I’m embarrassed and would prefer to leave.”

“That option is not on the table.”

“Why? I said I was a virgin and I was. Doesn’t that earn a shred of trust?”

He couldn’t let her go. That was the bald truth.

“Until I unravel this Benito mystery, I can’t let my guard down with you.” He knew that much, but he also knew he already had. “It will take some time for the bank to investigate, so you’ll stay with me until we have some answers.”

“With you. Here. In your bed.” Her voice thinned to something that might have been resentment, but held an echo of longing, too. “Doing what? Paying off Dad’s debt? How much did my virginity knock off the total, anyway? I’m such a terrible negotiator. I should have asked before.”

She was throwing darts because she was hurt that he still mistrusted her. Her words still managed to get under his skin. “Do you want to put the past behind us or not?”

He meant that her snippy attitude wasn’t helping, but she only railed on in the same vein.

“Let me guess. You’ll also leave my brother alone if I sleep with you?”

“Sure.” He had no intention of going after her brother. It was easy to agree.

Her eyes narrowed. “Exactly how many payments are you expecting?”

“We’ll make love ‘the normal amount,’” he quoted her pithily, through a smile that was more clenched teeth and growing ire. “But I won’t make demands right now, if you’re feeling delicate. Or salty.”

“Oh, no,” she said with a hot crackle in her tone. “If I’m going to get this debt off my back on my back, let’s make sure I get it done.”

“You really think you can shame me, you hellion?” He tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her pinned for gentle, gentle kisses. He teased and tantalized both of them until she was clinging to his lips with her own, moaning in frustration because his hand in her hair wouldn’t allow her to lift her head and increase the pressure.

Her hands moved with agitation across his back, one snaking to try to take hold of his reviving shaft, but he caught both her wrists in one hand above her head. He used his free hand to caress her breast, taking his time to really appreciate the shape of her, the heat he could discern even through the knit of her pullover, the dainty circle of her areola and the exquisitely sensitive peak that jabbed beneath his thumb pad, making her breaths grow ragged.

She wriggled and made another noise of growing ardor, lifting her mound into the weight of his thigh where he pinned her hips to the bed.

“Dante,” she gasped.

“I’m not a monster, bedduzza.” He moved his hand to skim back and forth across her waist, stealing inch by inch beneath her pullover, feeling her tense stomach quiver and jump beneath his tickling caress. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”

She made a tortured noise. “You’ll make me want it anyway. Won’t you?”

He found her braless breast and cupped the underside. She arched, trying to fill his palm. Her nipple stood like a shard of glass beneath the fabric of her top. They both ached for him to bare and lick and suck that taut tip, but he held off, nearly blind with desire. “If you really want to earn my trust, Cami, you have to be honest about what you want right now.”

Her breath exhaled on a trembling hiss. “You,” she confessed.

He gave her what she asked for.





CHAPTER SEVEN

CAMI WOKE ALONE. As she sat up, she breathed out a low, wincing breath. She was so sore. The jet tub might have forestalled some of the stiffness from skiing, but just as she hadn’t let a few aches and pains hold her back from enjoying the slopes, she hadn’t let it slow her down with Dante, either.

She buried her face in her hands, appalled. The man really did have an extraordinary libido, and apparently so did she.

Now she was paying for that physical activity. With a little whimper, she made her way into the shower, feeling only marginally better when she dried herself with aching arms. Her nipples were incredibly sensitive and even brushing her teeth was a tender exercise, making her look for bruising around her mouth. Her lips were chapped, but what had that man done to the rest of her? At no point had he been brutal, but he had been thorough.

And she’d loved it.

She was a sex fiend!

It was embarrassing, but as she thought of the way they’d come together again and again, the way his hands had felt on her body—his mouth... She was aroused all over again. Yearning and wanting another clash of flesh to flesh.

She clenched her eyes against her reflection, aghast by the longing that overcame her, fresh and sharp. Glancing at the closed door of the bathroom, she wondered if he was still in the suite.

Be honest about what you want.

What did she want? Romantic love was not something she had been able to afford, quite literally. After losing their parents, her brother had been her world. Mentally, she’d felt miles ahead of men her age, and the few who had bought her coffee or a plate of pasta had been quickly scared off by her financial situation and depth of responsibility.

She had tucked away dreams of finding her soul mate like a pressed flower in a book, rarely remembered and even more seldom examined.

Dante was not her soul mate. He was her instrument of sexual awakening, but all she could expect from this relationship was maybe some sort of closure between them on her father’s debt, one way or another.

That stupid debt! She glanced at the time and realized the bank would be open soon. She dried her hair, then dressed in jeans and a snug, waffle-knit shirt.

“Dante?” she called from the top of the stairs.

Silence.

She limped down to the main floor and had a very cursory look for a note—and painkillers—but found neither. He hadn’t texted either, but he’d left a key card. At least she wouldn’t be locked out if she ran to the lobby. Her leg throbbed like it was newly broken. She really needed something.

Ugh. She didn’t want to be the first to text. What should she say? I’m up? Where are you? Far too needy.

She was in the elevator before she settled on her message.

Do you want to meet me at the bank?

He responded promptly.

We’ll go together. Wait for me.

The reply pinged into her phone as she made her way across the lobby toward the gift shop. How long would that be? she wondered.

In the same moment, she felt a prickle of awareness, like the sun came out and found every inch of her naked skin.

A soft, aged voice said, “Cami!”

With her head bent over her phone, she had nearly walked right past Dante, Bernadetta and another couple, all sitting in the casual dining lounge where the buffet breakfast was served, finishing their coffee. She was separated from them by a row of ferns.

As Cami took a startled inventory, her gaze tangled with Dante’s. All the wicked things they’d done to each other cascaded through her mind’s eye, turning the middle of her chest into a furnace that radiated heat through the rest of her.