CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
Sevandro gestured for her to join him, and she walked over, taking in the view, the darkness of the valley in the near distance, and beyond the twinkling lights of Lucca.
‘I was just checking on the instruments,’ she explained.
‘Sounds like having children.’
‘It probably is a bit like that at times.’
He looked down at her, but she could not hold his gaze and moved her gaze back to the view. She’d come out here to think of him and the tumult he caused in her head—which had somehow faded now she was by his side.
‘You’ve been working hard,’ he said. ‘The music was incredible.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Are you finished playing?’
‘I think so—unless someone asks.’
‘You never did tell me about your terrible boss.’
‘No…’ Juliet gave a soft laugh as together they walked over to a heavy stone bench that looked out over endless rows of vines. ‘I took a live-in job…free accommodation in exchange for a few household chores, babysitting, walking the puppy…’
‘Free accommodation?’ he checked. ‘In my industry you’d need a fleet of staff for those few chores.’
‘I get that now. Before that I was working a couple of jobs but falling behind at music school, as well as in rehearsals and practice. I’ve got exams soon—and a big thing in August.’ She tried to offer both sides. ‘In fairness to Anna—my boss—I have been getting more bookings for weddings. My weekends aren’t as free as they were, and I don’t think she understands just how much I have to practise. It’s not the same with a practice mute…’
‘Could you move?’
‘I think I’ll have to.’ That was the only answer. ‘I need a soundproof room—preferably on Mars.’
‘Mars sounds nice,’ Sev agreed, and somehow she knew he was speaking of escaping this night.
She wasn’t a nosey person, yet it felt right to acknowledge that she knew he was a widower. Right to ask, ‘Has today been hard for you?’
‘I keep being told it must be,’ he said with a sardonic edge. ‘As well as how much I must be missing Rosa.’ He turned and met her waiting gaze, and when he spoke again that edge to his voice was gone. ‘You’re the first person to actually ask.’
‘You don’t have to answer.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, then added, ‘I mean that.’
They sat in silence for a moment, but then he said, his voice low, but a touch lighter. ‘If I don’t answer you, does it mean I can’t ask anything about you?’
‘Of course not.’ She smiled. ‘Perhaps let’s answer only the questions we want to?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Sev said. ‘So, what happens in August?’
For Juliet it was the nicest question he could have asked. ‘I’m going to be playing in the concert hall for five nights. It’s an opera. I’m playing first violin.’
‘Does that mean solo?’
‘No!’
She liked it that he’d asked, that his eyes didn’t glaze over as she told him about the different arrangements, how her dream was a permanent chair in an orchestra.
‘Dante and Susie are coming to the opening night,’ she told him—and his eyes still didn’t glaze over. Instead they held hers steadily, and he was so receptive he made it easy to share the importance of her friends being there. ‘It will make it extra-special. Don’t tell them that, though,’ she added. ‘I don’t want to add pressure.’
‘Why would it add pressure?’
‘If they knew how much it meant,’ she told him. ‘I’ve never had someone in the audience before.’
‘Your family?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘They’re busy, busy. You know how it is?’
‘I don’t…’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’
Gosh, how insensitive of her, when his parents were dead.
But he smiled at her sudden anguish. ‘When I was growing up my parents were always in the front row—much to my horror at times,’ he elaborated. ‘My mother liked to make an entrance and then she’d applaud just for me, and blow kisses.’
‘Ouch!’ She laughed. ‘Did you play an instrument?’
‘No.’
‘Act?’
‘I’m talking about little school plays. Thankfully we went on to boarding school in Milan, or she’d have been embarrassing me through my teenage years too.’
* * *
He liked the softness of her laughter, and how it trailed away as if she understood how his parents were so greatly missed on this day. Then he reminded himself of his role as best man, and that his absence would soon be noticed.
As if to confirm it, in the distance his name was being called.
‘I should get back.’
‘And me. Louanna will be sending out a search party.’
They made no move to go, though.
And despite his promises to himself to behave on this day, now, at the eleventh hour, he caved. He wanted her tonight.
Sevandro stared into eyes that glittered and he liked the way she gazed back at him—as if anticipating the offer. But first there were clarifications to be made.
‘So…’ He resumed their conversation with different intent. ‘No parents at your performances…what about boyfriends?’ he checked, moving things along, aware that he had to get back inside and trying to gauge what this gorgeous violinist who had made today somewhat bearable expected from her lovers. ‘Partners?’
‘Gosh, no.’ She shook her head. ‘Nothing like that. I’ve never…’ She shrugged. ‘Well, what with my studies and…’
He assumed that, like him, she did not have the time or the desire for a serious relationship—but she was back to blushing, and his hand came to her burning cheek to let her know she did not have to apologise for preferring casual sex—certainly not to him!
‘I guess with all that practice each day…’ he said.
‘And classes,’ she added. ‘There isn’t time for dating.’
‘Good—because I don’t do all that.’
‘I know you don’t.’
* * *
She did know that—and right now it suited her.
Dreadful dates? They could bypass all that. They’d just go to bed.
And right now it didn’t matter if that was it…
It was so much more than she’d ever had.
She wanted his skill and she wanted to be intimate with this man who had thrilled her on sight.
‘You’re staying at the hotel?’ he checked.
She nodded.
‘I’ll sort out a key,’ he told her. ‘But now I should go.’
Juliet frowned, expecting a kiss.
Usually she felt a little fearful at this part…never quite wanting the kiss that was to come.
This was the complete reversal of that. He just stared. And her lips ached as if they needed the weight of his. And she had never stared at another so intently…
Then she heard his name being called once more, and she could have wept.
‘They can wait,’ Sevandro said, and she felt a flutter of relief as his mouth came down and lightly grazed her own. ‘First I have to know your kiss.’
And she got to know his.
It was bliss, light and yet sexy, as if she were being brushed by velvet, and yet it set off a delicious reaction, from her tingling lips to her toes. As his hand slid behind her head she was shaking—but with pleasure. His mouth exerted more pressure and her lips parted to the reward of his tongue.
This was how every kiss should be.
It was slow, unhurried, and she closed her eyes and wondered why she’d been so reluctant in the past—why she’d fought not to pull away, and yet with Sev she instinctively moved closer.
She put her arms up and wrapped them around his neck. He kissed her harder. But what brought her undoing was the sound he made in her mouth…almost a sigh, akin to a moan. A sound more beautiful than any her violin could make.
His lips on hers were no longer soft, but thorough and delicious, and she kissed him back, their tongues mingling and her body all atremble as his hand came to her waist and he drew her closer.
* * *
Sev did not generally sit necking on a bench, and he hadn’t intended to kiss her here, but this was a delight. And, while he was aware he had to go inside and resume his best man duties, he knew there was so much pleasure that awaited and this taste would sustain him.
He took her hand and moved it to where he ached, groaning at her teasing as she moved it to his thigh. His mouth explored her pale neck and he kissed away the throaty noises she made, knowing he must go.
But first he had one more question.
‘Why did you deny me?’
‘Deny you?’
‘That night, why did you deny me?’
‘Deny…?’ she said again.
He heard the bewilderment, felt the pause in her body. He was about to insist she knew what he meant—and then it was he who stilled.
It was Sev who halted this tryst.
He went over her words, felt her hand still on his thigh…
She hadn’t denied him that night.
He was starting to realise Juliet hadn’t known that, when he’d told Gio he might find company for the night, his look had invited her … She had flicked her gaze away, and at the time he’d thought he was being given a very sophisticated no.
But she was a different woman with her violin.
The real Juliet did not know this game.
She didn’t know anything!
‘When you say you’ve never dated?’ he checked. ‘Are you telling me that you’ve never slept with anyone?’
‘Yes. But I know my mind, Sev. It doesn’t change anything between us.’
‘Of course it changes things.’ He dropped all contact. ‘What the hell, Juliet? You are not into one-nighters.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do know that,’ Sev said. ‘Because I’ve already offered you that.’
He saw the furrow form between her brows.
‘At Gio and Mimi’s wedding.’
‘We didn’t so much as speak…’ she started—and then her lips closed.
* * *
Juliet swallowed as she looked back with hindsight.
That look that had caused her heart to race…that moment when she had felt as if he spoke directly to her, as if he had a request…
Well, he had.
Just not the musical kind.
‘Did you really think I was just going to finish playing and go to your bed?’
‘If you so chose.’ He took a breath. ‘Don’t you see? It’s the same tonight.’
‘No!’
She wouldn’t have it. It wasn’t the same. They’d connected, they’d spoken, they were talking now!
‘Sev…’ Juliet was struggling, trying to regroup from the bliss of their kiss and the promise of the night and then the plunge into rejection. ‘I know we’re not going anywhere, but I do know what I want.’
‘ Do you?’ he checked, a little less gently, perhaps tartly. ‘Because I don’t do slow and tender, and I don’t make love.’
‘I’m not asking for love. I’m not expecting to be treated as if it’s our wedding night. And I never said I wanted “slow and tender”.’
‘That,’ he snapped, ‘shows how little you know.’
‘Why does my being a virgin scare you off?’
‘Oh, I’m not scared, Juliet. I’m more concerned that we’d have got into that room and I’d have taken you against the wall…’ He quickly shut that thought down. ‘Juliet, what do you want for your first time?’
She stared angrily back at him. ‘Preferably someone who turns me on.’
He gave a small laugh at her smart answer, because there could be no denying their ridiculous attraction, and he was kinder when he spoke again.
‘Be honest, Juliet, in an ideal world, what would you want from your first lover?’
‘I don’t want to answer that one,’ Juliet said. After all, that was the agreement they’d made.
‘You do not want to cut your teeth on me.’
‘Please don’t tell me what I do and don’t want.’
She stood and smoothed down her dress and he stood too.
‘Your hair…’
He put a hand to her head to smooth it, and he was so nice as he sent her on her way. But then she answered his question—not to satisfy his curiosity, just to remember how she’d once thought.
‘I do want more for my first time. I don’t mean endless love—but, yes, red roses and such…and to be wined and dined…to dance and…’ She halted.
‘Go on.’
‘I want someone who knows parts of me that no one else does, and gives me parts of himself…’
He was right, damn him.
‘What else?’ he asked.
‘Picnics in sunflowers.’
‘Picnics are muddy and itchy.’
‘It’s my dream, Sev.’
‘Hold on to it,’ he told her, and then he gave a soft laugh. ‘Picnics? Oh, Juliet, you really did pick the wrong guy.’
‘So you keep telling me.’ She sniffed. ‘I’m going back inside.’
She nipped to the ladies’ and sorted out her hair and splashed her face, then headed back to the wedding. It was a gorgeous night, utterly perfect, and yet seeing Susie and Dante dancing, and all the other couples—some together for ever, some just together for this night—she felt out of step with the world.
‘Come on,’ Ricco said, and so they danced. Because they liked music and that was that.
It would have been nice to make Sev a little bit jealous, but there was no chance of that, because Gabriel came to grab his hand and Ricco was back dancing with the one he’d be with tonight.
She caught Sev’s eyes and rolled her own, then got back to life without him.
‘Juliet!’ Susie was high on hormones and love. ‘Thank you…’
‘I’ve loved every minute,’ Juliet said. ‘It’s been wonderful.’
It really was a brilliant wedding, and she danced some more, and then sat with Louanna, debating whether to play some music as the night wound up.
‘There’s a fire pit outside,’ Louanna said.
‘I can’t take my violin by a fire.’
‘Use Ricco’s old spare?’ she suggested, then paused. ‘God, they could at least be discreet.’
‘Who?’
‘‘Sevandro and Ella,’ she said. ‘She’s married !’
‘They’re just talking,’ Juliet snapped, more than a little fed up with Louanna’s well-voiced opinions—though it did sting a little to see Sev in conversation with a stunning caramel blonde. ‘Let’s get the instruments.’
* * *
Sev saw Juliet heading outside—or rather was aware of her no matter how he tried not to notice.
That kiss still lingered in his mind, and also their conversation, and the music she’d made…
All the good parts of today, the gentler parts of today, had been because of her.
Damn .
He really hadn’t handled things well—but then again, since Rosa’s death he hadn’t been one for sitting outside at night and looking at the view, or talking and making out on a bench.
And he wasn’t one for virgins.
‘Am I boring you, Sev?’ Ella said.
‘I’m sorry…’ He pulled his mind back to the conversation.
‘It’s okay. I know today is hard for you.’
Juliet had asked if today was hard for him, rather than assumed it was. Ridiculously, he had wanted to discuss it with her, but he had closed off that escape hatch years ago.
‘You must miss Rosa today…’
He chose not to respond to Ella’s assumptions, and instead asked after her husband and young family.
‘They’re doing well. Of course we’re busy…both working.’
‘You took over the practice?’ he checked. ‘How is your father?’ he asked.
Because there was a part of him that still wanted to speak to the older Dr Romero. A part that did want to know if his suspicions—Dante’s too—had been right.
If there had ever been a baby.
‘I was thinking of maybe visiting him,’ Sevandro said. ‘Just to catch up.’
‘He’d have loved that, Sevandro, but he’s not so well.’ Ella told him about her father’s dementia. ‘It’s so hard to lose a little more of him each day, and visitors just confuse him.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear that.’
‘He adored both you and Dante. The sons he never had.’
‘Give him my best.’
‘I will,’
As Ella slipped away he got back to duties, arranging the wedding car, and everyone stopped to wave off the happy couple.
‘Give England my love,’ he heard Juliet call as they climbed into the car.
And then she got back to the fire, playing her violin like a fiddle, and making people happy with the music she made.
* * *
The music was happy—the musician not so much.
Oh, it had been wonderful, and she loved nothing more than playing with friends like this, but she wanted to go back to the hotel and lick the wounds of her rejection.
Juliet saw him leave.
Not a moment after the bride and groom had gone, Sev signalled for a vehicle and without so much as a backward glance left the reception.
The party carried on, and so did the music, but after an hour or so Juliet gave in, returning Ricco’s violin, collecting her own, and then climbing into one of the waiting cars.
It was a lonely ride back to the hotel—and Juliet was more than used to it.
Not so much returning to a luxurious hotel, more the wired feeling from performing. But tonight it was heightened. Or was it that she was still wired from that kiss? Or that delicious time spent on the bench, simply talking?
She stepped into the gorgeous foyer, almost drooping—not with weariness, but with dejection—and a head full of faded long-ago dreams of men who dated you and the shining star of one who didn’t do that at all.
‘Allow me.’
The doorman spoke in Italian, and so lost in her thoughts was Juliet that it took her a second longer than usual to translate as he reached for her violin case.
‘I shall have it delivered to your room.’
‘No need,’ Juliet responded. ‘I can manage.’
She walked off, past the sofa where they had spoken this morning, wistful and a bit misty-eyed as she waited for the elevator. She would like to get to her room and cry, Juliet decided. Although she was unsure if she was embarrassed at practically handing herself to him, or simply sad that he’d turned her down.
There was no sense of feeling relieved that nothing had happened.
Turning the old-fashioned key, in the equally old-fashioned lock, she realised the simple fact was she was tired of being considered an old-fashioned girl.
Juliet had wanted him so.
The lights were on as she stepped into her room, but instead of putting her violin case down she stood holding it, a little stunned, staring at the floral arrangement—deep red roses wrapped in gold paper—that had been placed on the dressing table.
Oh.
They must be from Susie, she told herself. Because she was nice like that.
Her heart started thumping as she put down her violin, then walked over and picked up a cream envelope with spiky black writing on it: Juliet.
She almost tore the envelope in her haste to get to the card, expecting her hopes to be dashed, and let out a sob when instead hope was renewed.
Before making love, at the very least he should send flowers…
Sevandro
Her breath was rapid and shallow, making her a little dizzy as she reread the card and then looked back inside the envelope. She took out a little flat numbered card and saw it was a lift pass.
And with those flowers he took her back to something that had never been, to her dreams for her first time, how it might be, should be…
Could still be.
She inhaled the scent of the roses and marvelled at how he’d got hold of them at this hour. She didn’t know—she just knew that it was the single most romantic thing he could have done.
It made tonight special…
She walked into the bathroom and wondered how to prepare. She took in the shower, the deep bath, her tiny make-up bag… There was no time. She wanted every minute of this fading night to be spent with him. So she freshened up quickly, added a little lip gloss, then took down her hair and quickly brushed it.
Her nerves crept up as she used the card to access the elevator and it slowly creaked its way up. Oh, so badly she wanted to do this—to spend a night with Sev—but as she exited the elevator and stood at the door she didn’t know how to do this. How to knock on his door and say, Hi, I’m here…
Hating herself for being so pathetic, she turned to go, summoning back the lift, hearing it groan as it wearily returned.
‘Juliet…?’ Sev was peering out through the door.
‘I think I’ve got the wrong floor,’ she lied.
‘This is my floor,’ he told her. ‘And the only way to get here is the private access card.’
‘Oh.’
‘No problem.’ His jacket was off, his tie unknotted, and he looked more delectable every time she saw him.
* * *
‘Goodnight, then,’ he said.
‘Is this really your floor?’ she asked.
Sevandro nodded.
God, he thought, she was nervous.
Usually it didn’t endear him to a woman, but then again, he’d never taken such time with a woman before. He rather guessed she’d hate herself tomorrow if she left now. And he’d regret it too. She was sexy as hell and just didn’t know it. He’d felt her desire on the bench—perhaps because she knew it couldn’t really go anywhere.
‘It’s okay,’ Sev told her as she walked back to his door. ‘It’s a first for me too.’ He took her in his arms. ‘I’ve never slept with a virgin.’
There were questions in her eyes that he would not be answering. He did not want to discuss a long-ago wedding night that had been tense rather than tender.
It had not come close to this.
Tonight was no longer about distraction—and for him sex was usually that: an escape or a need fulfilled. He had lovers he could call—beautiful women who, like himself, did not want to tangle emotions.
This wasn’t like that.
First, though, she had to relax.
‘I have to make some calls,’ he told her.
‘I’ll go…’
‘No, I meant if you want to have a bath… I have to call my PA in Dubai.’
He led her into his vast suite. The doors were open to the balcony and that massive moon was still hovering, as if it had followed them from the vineyard. She’d seemed so much bolder there.
‘I arranged this for you.’ He opened up a door and she looked at all the candles and the steaming water.
‘You did this?’
‘The maid did it. I’m sorry I can’t wine and dine you, but Italian weddings…’
She laughed, and it was nice to see her relax just a touch.
Sevandro had thought a bath might be good for both of them, and though he had since decided she might feel better alone he did not want that bathroom door closed. Very deliberately he would maintain the contact.
‘We could have breakfast tomorrow,’ he said as she went into the bathroom.
* * *
Hopefully she wouldn’t still be a virgin by then, Juliet thought as she slipped into the bathroom.
She was about to close the door, but then he called out, ‘I didn’t know Susie’s sisters were twins.’
‘Yes.’
She kept on trying to close the door, but he had more to say.
‘They didn’t like all the attention being on Susie.’
‘No.’ She smiled, undoing her zip. She’d noticed the same.
‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’
‘Half-brothers and sisters.’ It was nice to talk as she took off her dress and stood dressed only in French lace. ‘All much younger. My parents got divorced.’
‘How old were you?’
‘Twelve when they broke up.’
He wasn’t listening now.
‘Helene?’ he said. ‘Thanks for getting back to me…sorry to call you at this hour…’
He rattled on about Sheikh Mahir and Juliet took off her underwear and slid into the bath and lay there, worried now rather than nervous. Leaning over, she looked at her phone and found out it must be three in the morning in Dubai.
Now she had a question of her own.
‘Sev?’ she asked when he’d ended his call.
‘What?’ he replied, coming to the bathroom door holding a drink.
‘Do I smell?’
He laughed. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Well, putting me in the bath…pretending you had to call Dubai…’
‘I did have to call to Dubai. But to be honest I thought you needed a bath to relax. I’m not one for…’
‘What?’
He came over and sat on the edge of the bath. He picked up her hand. ‘Oh, Juliet…’ He kissed her fingers, mimicking being chaste. ‘I’m not one for feeling my way slowly…’
‘It’s nice, though,’ she said.
Especially when he stopped faking being chaste and put down his glass, focussing on her hand and sucking on one finger. Then he paused, his silver-black eyes looking at her.
‘Your underwear is very sexy.’
‘The bride bought it for me.’ She could tell him that now. ‘Like your tie.’
‘Seriously?’
She nodded.
‘Why?’
‘She just did.’
‘I cannot think of a single occasion when anyone would buy me underwear.’ He thought about it. ‘And I would never buy it for anyone…’
‘You don’t buy your lovers sexy lingerie?’
‘God, no, I don’t do gifts.’ He kissed up her arm. ‘You lucked out again,’ he said, kissing her neck. ‘You got a mean billionaire.’
‘You’re not mean…’
No man with a mouth so soft on her neck could be called mean.
‘Selfish, then.’
* * *
His hand came to her gorgeous breast, floating in the soapy water. Pulling back a little, he looked at her, huge black pupils with just a dash of green at the edges and her hair all curly from the steam.
And when he kissed her softly, Sev knew he’d never before come close to this moment. Feeling her tentative mouth, he made allowances for it, didn’t try to hasten her with his tongue.
He’d never kissed like this—had never wanted or even needed to take the time to reassure a woman.
But Juliet suited his mood now, and as his tongue slipped into her warm mouth his hand moved between them, stroking the side of one generous breast. Her hardening nipple, despite the warm water, felt like a reward.
* * *
His hands, his mouth, felt incredible.
‘I’ve wanted you since this morning,’ he told her in a low, gravelly voice that made her feel both weak and wanting.
She started to unbutton his shirt, exposing the fan of black hair on his chest and flat mahogany nipples. He was just so male, so sexy…
He sat on the edge of the bath, so tall. Then he shrugged off his shirt and lowered his head, taking one breast in his mouth as his hand slid lower.
‘You might fall in…’
‘I don’t care.’ His tone was emphatic.
His hand was between her thighs, his fingers where none had ever been, and then his mouth left her breast, as if he preferred to look right at her.
Her hand moved to his shoulder, and then to the back of his head, and she stared right at him, closing her eyes at the slight stab and stretch of his fingers before they moved back to soft strokes.
Strokes that were more insistent.
‘I don’t think I can come,’ she told him. ‘Why don’t we…?’
* * *
‘Shh…’ he said, concentrating on the feel of her, beneath the soapy water.
Then her hand came to caress his face.
Her warm, tender touch was almost too much for his black, icy heart, and yet he found he coveted it.
He looked right at her, feeling her come alive under his hand, seeing the flush on her cheeks and the slight sheen of tears in her eyes. He breathed in. He wasn’t just turned on as he watched her come to orgasm, feeling her thighs grip him and her intimate beat—he felt something scarcer…felt a deeper contact being made, someone being with another. Caring…
‘Sev…’
She closed her eyes, folded a little in the middle. He leant forward and she rested her head on his chest, his dark hair against her cheek, and his hand moved up to her waist as the pulses faded.
‘I didn’t think…’ She was struggling to get her breath. ‘I didn’t think I was capable…’
Nor had he.
For ever he’d been numb.
Well, at least for a decade.
But now, as they lay on the bed, naked and kissing and aching for each other, touching each other, stroking each other…
‘Let me…’
She was nipping at his nipple, then asking if it was nice.
‘Yes.’
Her hand was on his stomach now and, nervous but bold, she slid it down. They lay face to face but he was looking down, watching her stroke him.
‘I should put something on,’ he suggested, as her fingers were moistened with his silver.
But they were both watching, and her breasts were warm, damp…just so nice to explore with his hands and with his mouth.
He was about to hook her leg over him and drive in, but…
He had to take it slow.
He liked her hand on his back as he reached over to the bedside table, rummaging for a condom, knocking the contents off but not caring.
He liked how she slid her hands between his thighs as he briefly faced away from her.
He rolled onto his back. ‘Put it on me.’
‘You do it.’
* * *
She watched him for a moment and then she took over, her slender fingers rolling it slowly down. She looked at Sev and leant over and kissed him. He pulled her head down and kissed her back hard, his jaw a little rougher now, and that giddy feeling was back as he flipped her and kissed her, removing a pillow from beneath her head.
The feel of him over her was delicious, and so was the scratchy feel of his thighs between her legs as he positioned himself. He was focusing on her neck, and then he moved up onto one forearm, holding himself at the centre of new pleasure.
‘Sev…’
She was so ready she was almost begging. As he pushed in she waited for the hurt and pain, but it was more just a new and blissful sensation.
‘Oh…’
The room went a little dark, but then there was nothing but pleasure, and the ragged moans from him made her curl inside.
‘Juliet…’ he said, almost as if he was apologising, and then he started to move.
She was so oiled and ready, so in tune from their long games in the bath, that it was new but not scary.
‘Okay?’
He looked down from over her and their gazes locked. She nodded to say that she was okay and he moved deeper.
‘It’s perfect.’
She searched for his mouth and kissed him as he took her, her hands finding the planes of his back and moving down to his torso.
She lifted her knees and then wrapped her legs around him. He was moving faster, and she tasted his shoulder, his chest, wanting this never to end. But she could feel heat spreading, and there was the same warm feeling she’d had in the bath, except there were no little beats of pleasure, just a build-up of tension.
She started to moan, as if seeking escape. Then he stilled, and a zip of electricity seemed to shoot along her spine as she heard him moan and release. It was the headiest pleasure, her face on fire, her throat tight, but nothing like the tension and the intensity of her orgasm as he came inside her.
His head came down beside her own, and then he lifted a little and moved within her again, where she was so tender, before collapsing on her.
Juliet had nothing with which to compare, but she simply knew, as she lay there warm with pleasure, that somehow she could only have been found by him. As if since he’d laid his sexy eyes upon her that first night they’d been building to his, and now she lay sated and breathless as he moved from within her.
* * *
Sev sorted himself and then covered them. He waited for the moment to arrive when he wished she were gone, or for that numb feeling to return, but his new lover didn’t allow for that. She was lying over on his side of the bed, her hair on his chest, and clearly delighted.
‘That was magical,’ Juliet said. ‘Honestly, how did I survive without that?’
She leant over him to get some water and he felt her hair trailing over his face. It didn’t annoy him.
‘Sev…?’ She was suddenly very still over him. ‘You didn’t take anything, did you?’
‘What?’
He glanced over, saw the little sliver of paper and couldn’t resist a little tease.
‘Dante gave it to me before the service.’
‘Dante?’
He laughed and reached over. ‘It’s a precious stone.’ Unwrapping it carefully, he showed her the contents. ‘A ruby.’
‘Oh.’
‘From my mother’s eternity ring.’
His smile dimmed. He’d almost refused to look at it when Dante had given it to him—really, he’d given it only a mere glance—but now he held the little stone up to the light.
‘Dante had it recovered from the accident site.’
‘Now I feel terrible…’
‘No need.’ He folded the ruby back inside the paper and into its pouch, then put the little package in the drawer ‘There’s nothing terrible about tonight.’