Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,28

‘Oh, do not worry, Aisling, I have no intention of terminating your contract—of jeopardising your precious business—if that’s all you’re concerned about.’

His judgement was harsh and unfair and Aisling was hurt that he should have chosen to interpret her words like that. But perhaps it was better that he should think of her that way. As a kind of tough career-woman rather than the weak and vulnerable kind.

She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

How ironic it was to hear her sounding uncertain—she, whom he always thought of as so crisply decisive. Yet how deeply satisfying to see her wavering—to see those iceblue eyes looking so unsure.

Gianluca leaned over towards her and traced the outline of her lips with his finger, and Aisling found her mouth opening so that he slid his finger inside it and she started with pleasure, and shock.

‘See?’ he mocked, and then he mouthed, Suck me.

And she did.

Their eyes met in a silent and erotic question.

‘Come, Aisling,’ he said softly as he withdrew his finger and looked at it, now all wet from her mouth. ‘Before I die from wanting you. One night. No more.’

Her heart was beating so fast she felt dizzy. ‘Our dinner—’

‘Forget the damned dinner!’

She hesitated for one last second and then rose to her feet, taking the hand he offered before they both walked out of the restaurant—oblivious to the stares of the other diners or the waiter’s expression of consternation on seeing the two untouched meals left behind on the table.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘TAKE down your hair,’ Gianluca instructed silkily. ‘No. You take it down.’

‘Very well, bella donna!’ And he began to untie Aisling’s hair.

The walk to his suite had been the longest of his life and once inside Gianluca had imagined that he might just rip the clothes from her body—but no. Something had made him want to prolong the exquisite anticipation. Instead, he lifted his hand to remove pin after pin, so that streams of her hair fell like dark ribbons over her shoulders and breasts.

Gianluca let out a long sigh of pure desire as he watched it spill down like shadowy water. He had only seen it like this once before and then, as now, it seemed not only to symbolise her sexuality, but also to make her look softer and so much more feminine. Was that why she never normally wore it this way? ‘Why do you hide it away?’ he murmured.

‘Because …’ she swallowed, closing her eyes as he began to stroke his hand down over her hips, as if he were petting a cat ‘… it isn’t practical when it’s loose.’

‘And are you always practical, cara?’

‘Mostly.’

‘This is a pity. Why?’

‘It’s called basic survival. But does it.’ she gasped as he raked his fingers through the ebony tumble, his breath warm on her cheek as he brought her right up close to his hard body ‘. matter?’

No. Maybe not now. In fact, nothing seemed to matter right now other than his urgent need to kiss her.

But the long, leisurely kiss surprised him. Had he thought that he might just take her swiftly in order to appease the terrible sexual hunger which had been eating away at him for weeks? Yet here he was savouring every slow, delicious mouthful.

Aisling swayed—her eyes closing as she gave herself up to the sweetness of his lips. This time they weren’t beneath a starry ceiling of Italian stars, serenaded by the massed choirs of cicadas—but this was still Gianluca of whom she had dreamed. In his arms she could surrender to the powerful ache of her own need and forget everything except pure pleasure.

And this time there were no hordes of people who might come spilling out of a party and catch them. This time they were alone.

The kiss changed—became deeper and more intense. He kissed her until there was no breath in his lungs, until he had to drag his mouth away from hers and suck in some muchneeded air while he steadied himself. And then he groaned, running his hands luxuriantly over her silk-clad body.

‘What is it that you do to me? For you are hot and cold—like the tap,’ he breathed unsteadily. ‘One minute the iceberg and the next—so sexy and so vibrant that it takes my breath away. Is this a clever game you play, Aisling? For you are a clever woman. Do you do this to make me want you more?’

Surely it would be a mistake to tell him that it was uniquely him who could transform her into