The Italian's One-Night Baby(20)

In answer, Rio crushed her angrily parted lips beneath his own, his tongue flicking the roof of her mouth and tangling with her own. The forbidden pulse at the heart of her pounded faster and hotter while honeyed liquidity pooled in her pelvis. His hands firm on her thighs, she squirmed on the table.

‘Rio!’ she cried in frustration.

He ripped the delicate panties out of his path and traced the damp wet folds between her parted thighs, and so much excitement surged up inside Ellie that she feared she might go up in flames. He had distracted her, she knew he had distracted her with sex and she knew she had to defend herself but in that instant nothing was more important to Ellie than the fierce, urgent demands of her own body.

‘We can’t...’ she moaned for her own benefit as much as his.

Rio sank his hands below her hips and lifted her to him as though she were a doll. He sank into her hard and fast and the sudden fullness of him boldly stretching her made her shudder and gasp. And then he moved with brutal efficiency, hitting some magical spot inside her that knew no shame and the treacherous excitement came in a drowning, remorseless flood that overwhelmed her. Her teeth dug into the shoulder of his jacket, her hands clawed any part of him she could reach. The pleasure was unbearable, pushing her relentlessly to the edge. Her body careened into a teeth-clenching climax that left her bereft of breath and he freed her as the final convulsions trammelled through her weakened body.

He disappeared off to the bathroom leaving her sagging on the table. He had taken precautions this time around, she registered in surprise. So, he was no longer willing to take that risk of conception with her, even though they were now married. Did Rio still want an escape route? Was he hoping she wasn’t pregnant? That he could still walk away?

And why wouldn’t he when he was convinced that she was a shameless gold-digger? Anger sizzled through Ellie. She had lost another battle with Rio. She slid, almost limp with satiation, off the table and retrieved one of her shoes, which had fallen off. Her torn underwear was nowhere to be seen and she had no spare clothing in the room since her suitcase had already been removed. With a grimace she smoothed down her dress and staggered slightly on cotton-wool legs in front of a mirror to check her hair.

‘You look fantastic, principessa,’ Rio said huskily, lazily, catching her hand in his. ‘And you’re my wife now—’

‘Not sure I want reminding of that right now—’

‘I like reminding you,’ Rio murmured, studying her with hungry dark golden eyes. ‘Smile, Ellie—’

‘No, Rio—’

‘Smile,’ Rio insisted. ‘It’s our wedding day and we should be making the most of it—’

‘Oh, I think you’ve already done that,’ Ellie told him before she could think better of that comment.

And Rio laughed with unholy amusement. ‘You’re mine. I needed the proof of it.’

All shaken up and fizzing with conflicting feelings and emotions, Ellie returned to the wedding festivities. Rio kept a hold of her, not letting her stray far from his side. Her body still felt hot and alien, the aftershock of forbidden pleasure and excitement still trapped inside her like a shameful secret. There was wanting and then there was wanting Rio, and he had just taught her that she was the one without the off switch when she needed it. That knowledge made her feel achingly vulnerable.





CHAPTER EIGHT

RIO SCOOPED HER out of the helicopter with precision. The flight had taken less than an hour.

‘Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?’ Ellie demanded.

‘In a few minutes you’ll know exactly where we are—’

‘I wouldn’t bet on that. I haven’t travelled much,’ Ellie admitted as he walked her a few steps down a quay and assisted her into a motorboat.

But as he had forecast, Ellie recognised where she was even though it was a place she had only previously seen in pictures. The view of Venice as the boat sped across the lagoon was breathtakingly beautiful. ‘It’s just like the paintings Beppe showed me,’ she whispered, entranced.

On the Grand Canal, the boat slowed amidst the busy water traffic and nosed in at a smartly decorated landing stage. Climbing out, she accompanied Rio into a magnificent foyer ornamented with huge Venetian glass chandeliers. ‘Welcome to the Hotel Palazzo Sorrentino,’ Rio murmured. ‘The jewel in the crown of my hotel chain.’

‘Sorrentino?’ she queried in surprise.

‘Yes, it once belonged to your family but it was last used as a home by your great-grandfather and even he only lived in a tiny corner of it. Beppe was quoted millions for the repairs that were needed and he sold it to me,’ Rio explained. ‘It was being used as a warehouse by then because it wasn’t fit for habitation. Converting it into an exclusive hotel took years but it was a worthwhile investment. Now it’s fully booked years in advance.’

Recognising that almost every eye in the reception area was on them, Ellie went pink, suddenly conscious of her wedding finery. A little man in a smart suit approached to welcome them and handed her a beautiful bouquet with the compliments of the staff. Rio accepted a key from him and guided her across the foyer and down a corridor.

‘We’re staying here?’ she asked.

‘Not in the hotel. The palazzo came with a couple of attached buildings and I retained one of them for personal use. Beppe uses it regularly. He loves Venice, particularly in the winter when it’s quiet,’ Rio told her, leading her outside and along a wisteria-clad walled alley to a narrow door flanked by Venetian gothic windows. ‘It’s very private here and the staff service it so we don’t have to worry about housekeeping or cooking.’

Ellie walked into a charming wood-panelled reception room that overlooked a tiny lush green garden at the rear. Beyond the garden, a gondola sailed past on a narrow waterway. It was a magical scene.

Rio removed the bouquet from her hold. ‘I’ll stick the flowers in the sink.’

Ellie knew she should go with him and deal with the flowers but the diverse traffic flowing past on the canal commanded her attention and she stayed where she was.

‘I’ll show you round now,’ Rio said lightly, and in a great gilded antique mirror she caught a glimpse of her answering smile that softened her face, and looked away again, dismayed that she could look happy in the company of a man who had implied that she could be a gold-digger.

‘I need to tell you about Violet... The lady in the hospice, who changed her will in my favour,’ she said tightly.

‘Not now, we’ve had enough stress. Leave it until later,’ Rio urged as he opened the door on a dining room where food already awaited them on the table, fearful that any sudden revelations from Ellie would set them at odds again on a night that he very much wanted to be special and all about ‘them.’ ‘We should eat first. You didn’t have much earlier.’

‘I wasn’t hungry,’ she admitted as he pulled out a chair for her. ‘I didn’t think you’d notice—’

‘I notice everything about you,’ Rio incised drily.

‘If that was true, you’d know I’d never have sought out Beppe simply because he was well off,’ Ellie contended uncomfortably. ‘It didn’t matter who or what he was. I just wanted to fill in the blank I’ve lived with all my life and know what happened between my parents. You couldn’t possibly understand how much it means to me to know who my father is and to actually feel a sense of connection with him. It’s so much more than I ever hoped to have.’

‘I understand a lot more than you appreciate,’ Rio countered, his lean dark face setting into grim lines. ‘I will never know who my father is and, frankly, I don’t want to know. I met my mother as an adult and that killed off any sentimental delusions I might have had. My mother and I didn’t have a single thought or feeling in common.’

Ellie studied him in shock at that revelation.

‘You were very lucky to find a man like Beppe waiting at the end of your identity trail,’ Rio remarked wryly.

He had met his mother and it hadn’t worked out? But he had grown up in an orphanage. Where had his mother been when he was a child? And why didn’t he know who had fathered him? Consternation gripped Ellie and she veiled her eyes. Rio managed to be incredibly sanguine about realities that would have seriously disturbed her and it made her all the more aware of how very little she knew about him and how unwittingly tactless she must have been while she was happily rambling on about what finding Beppe had meant to her. Of course, what had she ever personally shared with Rio? Discomfiture filled her. As a rule, Ellie was reserved and she kept her secrets close. She didn’t share personal stuff except with Polly but that had to change now that she was married. Didn’t it? It wouldn’t be fair to expect more from Rio than she was prepared to give herself.

‘Yes, I was incredibly fortunate,’ Ellie agreed ruefully as she took another appreciative bite of her delicious pasta salad. ‘Can I ask you about something?’

‘Anything...’

‘Earlier when we were together, you...you used a condom,’ Ellie reminded him.

‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’ Rio responded, his ebony brows drawing together in a frown. ‘If you are pregnant, we’ll make the best of it but if you’re not, well...it gives us more options.’