Picture of Innocence(57)

Lucy felt her heart swell to overflowing. She saw the vulnerability in his eyes as he waited for her answer—her proud, arrogant lover was unsure … nervous. Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘You won’t have to try—I do love you.’ She saw the confusion, then the growing hope in his eyes. ‘I have from the first time we made love. And, yes—I will marry you.’

‘You do? You will?’ Lorenzo looked shocked, then his dark eyes blazed with emotion and a hint of tears as he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his broad chest, and buried his face in the fragrant silken mass of her hair. ‘You are sure?’ he queried, and then his lips sought hers and he kissed her with achingly sweet tenderness and a love that stole her breath away. He lifted his head. ‘When?’ he asked, and his dark eyes watched warily as he waited for her answer.

She realised her confident, powerful man was still uncertain. ‘Whenever you like.’ She smiled, all the love in her heart shining in her brilliant green eyes. ‘The sooner the better,’ she said, and finally let go of the coverlet and looped her arm around his neck. ‘Do we have to wait for the wedding?’ she teased.

‘Dio, no—I can’t wait,’ Lorenzo groaned, his voice thick with emotion and a hunger that Lucy felt herself.

Taking her arm from his neck, he stripped off his shirt, his pants. Lucy’s eyes followed his every move. This was what she wanted—what she yearned for—and as he gathered her in his arms she met the smouldering darkness of his gaze and arched into the hard warmth of his great body, her small hands caressing, her lips parting.

They melded together—heart to heart, mouth to mouth—in a kiss like no other, full of tenderness and longing, passion and love.

‘Lorenzo … ‘ she breathed, as his hands slid sensuously over her body and her own caressed his satin smooth skin. He filled up her senses, and with murmured words of love and groans of fervent need their bodies joined in the primeval dance of love, finally fusing together in surge after surge of pure ecstasy, two halves of a whole in perfect love.

‘I can’t find the words to tell you how you make me feel,’ Lorenzo husked as they lay satiated in each other’s arms. But he tried, with softly whispered endearments. He eased his weight away, but held her close to his long body, his hands gently stroking her back. ‘I don’t deserve you, Lucy, but I will never let you go—you are the colour in my life. You are beautiful inside and out.’ A long finger found the scar near the base of her spine. ‘I can’t believe you did this for your brother.’

‘Yes, you can,’ Lucy murmured. ‘You would have done the same for yours if he’d needed it,’ she said lazily as she surfaced from the sensual haze that surrounded her.

‘You have more faith in me than I do myself.’

‘Ah, but then I love you.’ She pressed a kiss on his chest and he rolled over on his back, carrying her with him. And as the dawn of the new day crept through the windows the dance of love started all over again.





‘What the hell?’ Lorenzo swore as a loud crashing noise woke him. Keeping Lucy safe in the curve of his arm, he sat up.

The maid was standing three feet into the room, and she had dropped the coffee tray she had been carrying. Her face was scarlet, and Lorenzo could understand why as Lucy opened her eyes and smiled up at him, stroking her small hand across his stomach.

‘I just need to feel you are real, Lorenzo, and know I wasn’t dreaming last night.’

Then to add to the confusion his mother appeared in the doorway, fully dressed.

‘What on earth has happened?’ she demanded of the maid, and then looked across at the bed. ‘Oh, Lorenzo—how could you?’

Lucy heard the voice and snatched her hand away from his stomach, blushing redder than the maid and trying to burrow down beneath the coverlet.

Lorenzo pulled her gently back up. ‘Trust me, Lucy—that will look worse.’ He grinned and tucked the coverlet under her, putting his arm around her shoulders before looking back across the room.

‘Good morning, Mother,’ he said, with all the confidence and panache a thirty-eight-year-old man could muster when for the first time in his life he had been caught in bed with a woman by his mother … ‘I want you to be the first to know Lucy and I are getting married.’

His mother gasped, and then smiled, and was about to rush over.

‘But can you save the congratulations and the cleanup until later? Lucy is a little shy right now.’

‘Yes—yes, of course.’

The two women backed out of the room.