Emilia (Part 1)(56)

“Yes,” I managed to squeak out, my voice barely a thread of a sound. He cupped the back of my neck, bringing his mouth within striking distance, and my heart misfired. “But you know what? This is irrelevant. I don’t have a clue why I brought her up. Let’s talk about something else.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. She came with one of my associates.”

“And you never—” I couldn’t finish my question, mostly because I didn’t want to know the answer. I shouldn’t care either way, and the fact that I did even a little bit scared the crap out of me. Marcello wasn’t my future. He’d never be anything to me other than a short-lived flash in time before I started living the life I always wanted.

I closed my eyes, gambling that if I didn’t see his ruggedly handsome face, I could erase all of the disconcerting emotions spinning inside of me. Unfortunately, he took it as an invitation. He pressed his lips against mine with a single-minded hunger, his arms hooked around my waist, and I felt the hard imprint of his body flush against mine.

His tongue swept into my mouth, warm and malleable, and the heat around us multiplied tenfold. His erection pressed into my belly and desire stretched my nerve endings like a rubber band begging to snap. His hands traveled recklessly up and down my sides, and an achy need washed over me. I drew my legs together, pouring every ounce of confusion, longing, and frustration into the kiss. I slipped my hands around his waist and under his jacket, caressing his ropy muscles and clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping me from crashing to the floor.

While I knew deep in my gut this was wrong on too many levels to name, I rationalized it as a goodbye and an apology for my deception all rolled into one. I got lost in his taste, his smell, and him. A soft moan reverberated through the room and not until I felt his lips pull into a smile did I realize it came from me.

Too long yet too soon, he pulled away, his chest heaving, his blue eyes hooded, and his lips swollen. He looked insanely beautiful, like a bronzed Roman god. I rested my face against his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heart. The kiss combined with the feel of his arms around me and the soft purr of our breaths lulled me into some strange bubble where nothing existed except the dark, sensual pull between the two of us. His hand roamed all over me, dominance, power and sex rolling off him like a voodoo love spell, weakening my objections to him. To the idea of us, and the future he talked about years earlier in the dimly lit hall outside my father’s study.

“As tempting as you are, little Emilia, I should go before we take this too far. I don’t think Dominick would appreciate me taking advantage of our time alone.”

His comment snapped me back into reality. The fact that he believed this might lead to more between us hit me like a kick to the gut. My body’s reaction to this man eviscerated me. It was completely out of sync with the future I planned for myself, and yet none of that made a difference within seconds of him touching me.

“Oh, yeah, whatever you think,” I said, embarrassment creeping up my face. I looked away from his too keen eyes and focused on the black and white photo of my family hanging on the wall. My father had stripped the house of every last reminder of our family after my mom died except for that picture.

Marcello reached for me, framing my face, simultaneously forcing me to look at him and acknowledge this thing between us—whatever it was or wasn’t.

“Before too long, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other and much more freedom to do it.”

I shrugged out of his hold and squared my shoulders, mentally trampling on the hysteria inching through me. “I assume you can let yourself out. I’m not feeling very social anymore.”

He cocked his head to the side. “So it’s going to be like that, huh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Every time we make progress and I think we’re on the same page, you retreat into your shell again.”

“No amount of you forcing yourself on me will change the fact that I don’t want to marry you, and I’d appreciate if you kept your hands and lips off me.”

“You can ignore what’s happening between us all you want, but it won’t change reality.”

“Leave.”

“Not until you admit you liked kissing me.”

“No.” I’d never admit anything because I hated that my body betrayed me every time he touched me. The way my silly heart hammered and my limbs trembled made me sick.

The muscles in the lower half of his jaw ticked, and we both stood rooted to the floor, our invisible swords drawn, preparing to do battle. The air around us shifted, thickening and pressing against my ribcage, making it impossible to fill my lungs.