The Italian Billionaire's Pregnant Bride(16)

His powerful libido ignited by that boldness, Sergio drove her soft pink lips apart with answering passion. He delved into the moist interior of her mouth with a rhythmic eroticism that drove her wild with longing. Her fingers raked through his gleaming black hair, holding him to her. One kiss only led to the next and the exchange was frantic, increasingly forceful and infuriatingly unsatisfying for both of them. With a groan of frustration he hauled her slim body closer, closing his hand over hers to guide it down to the furious power of his erection.

Her fingers spread over the swell of his male arousal, outrageously obvious even through the fabric of his trousers. Wanton damp heat flowered at the tender heart of her body and she quivered, shot through and weak with sheer longing and excitement. She knew what he wanted and she knew what she wanted to do, though it was something that had never before had the slightest appeal to her. The shock of that sexual intensity made her eyes fly open.

It was disconcerting to recognise that it was still broad daylight and that they were in a moving car in traffic. She had forgotten everything, where she was, who she was. She felt out of control and it scared her. Tearing her reddened mouth from his, she sucked in a steadying breath and shifted her hand onto his long powerful thigh.

A lean brown hand closed into her copper hair to stop her moving back out of reach. Scorching golden eyes held her fast. ‘You shouldn’t start anything you’re not prepared to finish.’

‘I’ve got work to do.’ Kathy lifted her chin, her cheeks burning.

Accustomed to instant compliance with his wishes, Sergio studied her with shimmering dark eyes of hauteur. Then he flung his arrogant head back and vented an appreciative laugh. He liked her nerve. ‘What work?’

‘I have another part-time job. I’m also studying.’

‘And I have a flight to catch.’

Her heart thudded heavily inside her ribcage. He ran a slow caressing forefinger across the swollen curve of her lower lip. Her nerve-endings prickled with awareness. It took all her self-discipline not to lean forward and invite a greater intimacy.

‘I’ll see you when I get back to London—in a couple of weeks, delizia mia,’ Sergio murmured softly.

‘A couple of weeks?’ Kathy queried in bemusement.

He explained his schedule. Intense disappointment filled her that he would be abroad for so long. She veiled her eyes, irritated by her juvenile response, her previous doubts setting in again. What was the point of seeing him again? Did she have novelty value? Even if he was interested in her, it would only be for all of five minutes. She needed no great experience of men to know that all she had to offer on his terms was her face and body. Was that enough for her?

Sergio checked his watch, only to rediscover for the tenth time that morning that it wasn’t on his wrist. Fortunately a replacement awaited him at the airport. ‘I took off my watch last night. Did you notice where I put it?’

Her smooth brow furrowed. ‘It was lying on the carpet. I stepped over it. Look, us seeing each other again isn’t a good idea—’

His dark stare was unnervingly direct. ‘Try keeping me away.’

‘I’m serious—’

Sergio lifted the phone and punched in a number. A moment later he was talking in rapid Italian.

‘Would you be interested in becoming a receptionist?’ he enquired in casual aside.

Kathy nodded in immediate eager acknowledgement. After a brief further dialogue he replaced the phone and gave her an address to go to the following morning. ‘For an interview?’ she asked.

‘No, the job’s yours for three months. Longer, if you make a good impression.’

‘Thanks,’ she muttered awkwardly as the limo came to a halt.

‘I owed you.’ Sergio stepped out.

Uncertainly Kathy climbed out, as well, but he didn’t notice; he was already walking away with two of his bodyguards following close behind him. His departure was the epitome of casualness. Before she sank back into the limo, she noticed a stocky older man on the pavement treating her to a flinty appraisal. His gloomy face was vaguely familiar and she knew she had seen him before, even if she could not recall where. When he got into the car behind, which previously had disgorged the bodyguards, she realised that he must work for Sergio.

The chauffeur captured her attention by asking her where she wanted to go. As the luxury vehicle moved off again to drop her at the library, she was in a happy daze at the prospect of starting a new job.




Almost two weeks later, Sergio arrived back in London. He was in an excellent mood.

Grave-faced, Renzo Catallone met his employer off his private jet and passed him a slim file.