I hadn’t planned on it, were the words on the tip of my tongue, but I decided to keep them to myself.
Silence stretched the length of the chasm that separated our bodies. Until he leaned forward, elbows resting on his legs, hands crossed, his eyes intent on mine. “Answer me, Scarlett.”
“I won’t,” I whispered.
He nodded. “And you, Ballerina Girl. Tell me what’s on your mind.” His words were like the fabric of the dress against my body, caressing.
“You,” I blurted. Then I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Pace yourself, Scarlett. “My heart has been yours, consciously, since that night out in the snow. Given or not.” I spread my hands. “Yours. Tonight, I give you all of me.”
The heat from his want seemed to billow out around him, and I could see the mirage of his will, and again, like that night under the stars, the shape could be molded to my desires. And I would. I would wield that power over him. As daunting as the idea seemed, it was minute compared to the want simmering inside of me.
I had essentially known Brando Piero Fausti my entire life, even if his presence had been background music that hadn't registered in my mind. Above all else, I knew my heart and soul had known him a lot longer. He had been in me all along. History. Present. Future. Always. The connection stretched through him to the humming of my blood.
There was nothing else to convince me of. I knew our love. I knew the time was right. The gown on my body had gone from what felt like a piece of clothing to a wish made upon a star.
Seizing the moment, never more sure in my decision, I kept my eyes on his, slipping the silk from my shoulders, baring more than just my skin to him. The deep V translated into an open invitation.
“Is this what troubled your mind? Me wanting you? Because I do. I want you, Brando. More than anything.”
His eyes became more hooded, yes, hooded, but more…concentrated, focused. He stood, his tall frame throwing shadows over my exposed body, and made it to me in a few long strides. His hands came around my waist and we walked until I was backed against the wooden beam.
I breathed him in, inhaling some exotic, Mediterranean drug, the melody of his essence—wood smoke, bergamot, rosemary, lavender, and the undercurrent of candied chocolate. I studied his lips like they were a test, and then leaned in a bit, drinking in the smell again. It wasn’t enough.
Lifting up on my toes, I licked his lips, and there it was, the residual sweetness on my tongue.
His hands tightened around my waist, imposing, yet comforting. His hands were large against my frame, and warm enough to seep into bone. The hotness of his palms seared through the thin silk, and I almost expected the fabric to burn, to smoke, to leave blisters on my skin.
He licked his lips; the wetness shimmered in the candlelight. Placing his pointer finger under my chin, he used his thumb to stroke my bottom lip. His eyes seemed magnetized to mine. I had never truly appreciated how remarkably dangerous they were until this moment.
Not only were they lethal, but almost sinful. Indecent. Maggie Beautiful’s description of Luca Fausti turned out to be an echo of his gorgeous son.
“I didn’t bring you here for this,” he said, his breath a whisper on my lips. His thumb trailed down to my chin, my neck, hovering around the necklace against my throat. The diamond threw off a rainbow of colors from the flickering candles.
We both knew what this meant. I closed my eyes, throwing myself into the fire.
After our night on Maggie Beautiful’s couch, we had continued to venture, touch and discover, always inching our way closer to…this. A hole that I never knew existed until him had opened up, and an ache screeched like a banshee for attention, for his entire being to mold with my entire being. The only cure for the wound was being one with him.
I chased the cure. I chased the quiet, the inner peace. I chased him. And now I had him.
Or had he chased me and now I would surrender? Or would we both surrender to the other’s nature?
I’d soon find out.
I opened my eyes then, the fire raging inside of me reflected in his eyes. “But this,” I unbuttoned the rest of his