But she made no protest as he led her back inside the apartment and started undressing her. And she let him. She did more than just let him. She assisted him. She helped him pull open her clothes with hands which were shaking almost as much as hers were, as her mouth reached hungrily for his.
She groaned as he touched her. And she writhed as he traced a finger around where she was hot and moist and quivering for his touch. Impatiently, he ripped open her panties and she took him into her arms, her eyes closing helplessly as she felt his warm weight on top of her. Did the sex just feel more poignant because the clock was ticking? she wondered. And was it the same for him?
She saw the flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes as he entered her with one slick stroke, before quickly finding his rhythm. He spoke in his native tongue as he moved—strange, guttural words which filled her with a terrible sadness, even while her orgasm began to build. Her body clenched just as he cried out her name, and her arms tightened around his back as pleasure swept over her.
Catrin could feel the dying spasms as he emptied his seed inside her—and all she could think was that some day his seed would bear fruit. But not with her. Some other woman would carry his child, but it would never be her.
He stirred and stroked an errant spill of hair away from her flushed face, levering himself up onto his elbows to stare down at her. ‘What would you say if I told you that today was one of the best days of my life? As was yesterday, and the day before that.’
‘I’d say you were being too smooth for your own good.’
He smiled, pulling her closer and burying his mouth in her hair. ‘Come to Italy with me, Cat,’ he said. ‘One last trip abroad, together. That’s all.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not. Because it’s a bad idea.’ Half-heartedly, she tried to disentangle herself from his arms. ‘And will you please stop looking at me with that little-boy look? Because it isn’t going to work.’
‘Cat.’
He even made saying her name sound erotic and she could feel her resolve slipping. And suddenly she felt too overwhelmed with conflicting emotions and lingering pleasure to be able to resist him any longer. And why keep resisting something she really wanted to do?
‘A few days,’ she said. ‘That’s all. And after that I’m leaving.’
His eyes glittered as he stroked his hand over her bottom. ‘Of course you are.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE ITALIAN COUNTRYSIDE was beautiful in a take-your-breath-away kind of way but Murat barely noticed the lush green hills swathed with silvery olive trees, or the distant glimmer of the lake. Instead, his attention was focused on the woman beside him and a deep sense of feeling thwarted filled him, as his powerful cavalcade of cars moved through the Italian countryside.
With her mahogany hair gleaming and her body perfectly still, she wasn’t behaving as he’d expected her to behave. As he wanted her to behave—especially now that she had finally given in to his desire that she accompany him to Umbria.
During the flight from London she had kept him at a distance. In every way. She had been polite, yes. Each comment he’d made had been answered with a studied courteousness, although he noticed that she had initiated no conversation of her own. She had picked up a book and started to read and although the book had now been put away in her handbag, it made no difference. He didn’t like being ignored by a woman—especially not one who had previously been so attentive. Who had behaved like a wildcat that last time they had made love...