Happy Mother's Day! - By Sharon Kendrick Page 0,93

of the shower, to be precise, where they had fallen when he had stripped them from her body two hours earlier.

A memory surfaced in her head. A memory of Francesco standing in the shower, naked, his face lifted to the warm spray.

She had stood there mesmerised, unable to take her eyes off him until without warning his hand had shot out and he had dragged her inside under the warm jets of water.

‘What are you doing?’ she gasped, tilting her face up to his as she pushed the wet strands of water-darkened hair from her face. ‘I told you it was a mistake. It can’t happen again. I know it’s totally my fault—’

‘I think I had some minor input.’

‘Valentina and Sam … the staff—they’ll be back any time. I’m dressed,’ she added weakly when none of the perfectly good reasons made any impact.

Francesco gave a wolfish smile that made her heartbeat quicken in anticipation. ‘Not for long,’ he promised.

‘I’m out of here,’ she retorted, blinking away the wetness from her lashes and not moving an inch.

She could see that lifting her arms as he peeled the wet top off might lead him to believe she wasn’t totally serious in her threat. He might even imagine she wanted him to drop to his knees and pull her jeans and pants down over her hips. An impression that might have gained credence when she grabbed his head and moaned when he pressed his mouth into the damp curls he had exposed.

The memory of the hot, searing sensation as his tongue and fingers had slid between her thighs sent a wave of heat washing over her skin.

Closing her eyes, Erin pushed the erotic images from her head. The effort brought a visible sheen of moisture to her skin. ‘I hope you don’t mind … about the shirt.’

‘Actually I do.’

Startled by his response, she narrowed her eyes warily.

‘I think I might want to claim my property right now.’

Erin swallowed and crossed her hands over her chest in an unconsciously protective gesture.

‘Are you talking about me or the shirt?’ Her laugh only just stopped short of hysteria, but then trying to sound amused while she had a mental image of him slowly unpeeling the shirt to reveal her naked body had always been a non-starter.

One corner of his mouth lifted, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes; they held a restive glitter that was in stark contrast to his indolent posture.

‘I’ll start with the shirt.’ One hand tucked behind his head, he used the other to pat the bed that still bore the scent of her body. Erin wanted more than she could admit to respond to the invitation in his eyes. ‘Come back to bed.’

Conflicting emotions were tearing her in several directions at once. Just looking at him awoke a lustful ache low in her abdomen. And imagining never spending another night in his arms filled her with panic.

At the same time she knew they had no future—the bottom line was he only wanted her back because of the baby.

‘This shouldn’t have happened.’ Tears formed in her eyes because she didn’t have the faintest idea where to go from here. ‘Look, I’m not pretending it wasn’t very—nice …’

A look of blank incredulity stole across his lean face. ‘Nice?’ he echoed, pulling himself into a sitting position in one smooth motion that sent the quilt slithering to the floor exposing him totally.

She took refuge in flippancy. ‘Well, what do you want me to say … that it was a life-changing experience?’

His face darkened with displeasure. ‘Almost anything would be an improvement on “nice”.’ he snapped. ‘Remind me not to come to you for a recommendation.’

Oblivious to his naked state, he swept aside the hank of silky dark hair that fell into his eyes.

‘All right,’ she conceded, her eyes falling to avoid the sardonic glitter in his stare. ‘Relax, you were marvellous, though I had no idea that your ego required such delicate handling. Sex with you was always spectacular, but that’s all it is.’ It couldn’t be anything else.

‘You want more than I gave you?’ he challenged with the arrogant confidence of a man who had heard the words of extravagant, breathless praise that had spilled unchecked from her lips when she had lain sated in his arms.

‘I did. I don’t anymore.’ Who are you trying to convince?

Francesco studied her set face with a baffled expression. ‘Could you be slightly less cryptic?’

‘I loved you, I don’t anymore, the sex is still great, but I can