Chapter Four
FOR SEVERAL STUNNED SECONDS, Ashley couldn’t think. Her ankle was a blaze of pain, her mind a haze of…awareness.
Awareness of the long, lean body, warm and taut, lying under hers, thighs moulded to hers.
Her breasts squashed against a hard, muscled chest that made them both ache and tingle.
She felt the heat of him, touching every pressure point in a way that was exquisite and incredibly unsettling, especially considering she’d raced after him for an angry confrontation, not for… this. Whatever this was.
After what felt far too long, Ashley lifted her startled gaze to meet Nico Galletti’s.
Instinctively, she braced herself for whatever expression she expected to find in those silvery-grey depths—bemusement, derision, fury or some combination of all three.
What she hadn’t expected to see was desire, making his pupils dilate and his irises flare.
From a distance they looked grey, or even silver, but from this close she saw they were rimmed in gold, like little sparks of fire.
And those eyes, those magnificent eyes, were filled with heat and locked on hers.
The moment, which was already unsettling, suddenly turned fiercely electric. Ashley felt as if she could practically see the sparks in the air, hear the vibrating hum of energy; every breath was charged as they simply stared at each other.
Silently, without breaking her gaze, Nico half-rose from where he was sprawled on the seat and slowly, almost languorously, shifted Ashley higher up on his body.
Her legs slid along his, her hips settling into his as a sizzling sense of awareness raced through her veins at every point of contact.
Then, with one hand, Nico closed the limo door, rapped once on the tinted screen that separated them from the driver and they sped away from the kerb.
And all the while Ashley couldn’t break his gaze.
She couldn’t even move; as the car cut through traffic, she realised she was still lying on top of him, with far too many agonizing points of contact between their two bodies, each ragged breath a loud rasp in the quiet confines of the limo.
Then Nico put his hands on her hips and adjusted her, so she was cradled between his thighs in a way that felt even more intimate—and exposing.
Her breasts were flat against his chest, her mouth inches from the lean, brown column of his throat.
Everything in her felt sluggish, hazy and yet at the same agonizingly sensitised and aware.
How she could feel both at the same time, Ashley had no idea, and yet she did.
She was achingly conscious of every part of him: the warm skin beneath her body, the smooth cotton of his shirt under her palms. She could feel his heartbeat thud against her hand—slow, steady beats that increased in speed as the moment stretched on and spun out—and still neither of them had spoken.
He was as affected as she was, she realised with a thrill of wonder as she kept staring at his throat, too overwhelmed to lift her gaze to his face once more.
She realised Nico’s hands were still on her hips, and Ashley wasn’t so much of an innocent that she couldn’t feel the evidence of his desire beneath her own aching thighs.
It sent another pulse of longing through her, like liquid fire racing through her veins.
How had this happened so fast? How had this happened at all?
And it should stop, it should definitely stop, because she had people depending on her, and a company to save, and…
Nico lifted one hand to the back of her neck, his long fingers tangled in her hair as he drew up her head, so she was forced to look at him once more.
His eyes blazed into hers. For a second, Ashley thought he was going to say something.
His lips parted, and his gaze, still locked with hers, turned fierce, almost desperate.
Everything in her tensed—and yearned. She didn’t know what she wanted him to do, and yet she did. Oh, how she did.
And then he did it… With one hand on her neck and another on her hip, he hauled her up so his lips met hers—not in a tentative brush, or a sweetly inquisitive question of a kiss, an opening gambit, but rather in a clash of mouths that felt like a brand and was instantly hungry, ruthlessly plundering from the second it started.
This kiss was a demand rather than a plea, raw, aggressive and utterly enthralling.
Ashley had been kissed precious few times in her life, and never like this.
She was being devoured, consumed, swallowed up whole by a kiss that went on and on, taking everything from her, and yet she knew she would have willfully given it away gladly, wantonly—because all she wanted was more of this kiss, more of him.
His hand moved from her neck to her breast, cupping its fullness as if he owned her, as if she was his, and in that moment she was.
His thumb flicked across her nipple and Ashley couldn’t keep from moaning aloud.
She’d never been touched like this before.
She’d never felt like this before. The last scrap of sanity she’d been clinging onto was willfully surrendered as the fingers of his other hand slid under her skirt, skimming her thigh.
Instinctively, she pressed against him, and now he was the one groaning against her lips as he pressed back, and for a few tantalising seconds they engaged in a primal dance that was more erotic than anything Ashley had ever experienced before and yet didn’t feel remotely enough.
Then, in the midst of this whirlwind of heat and sensation, a voice came, like a bucket of ice water poured all over her.
‘Mr Galletti? We have arrived.’
Ashley jerked up, feeling as if she’d slammed back into herself after several heady minutes of existing on an entirely different plane.
She was aware of several things all at once: Nico Galletti’s flushed face far too close to hers, his eyes glittering like sparks of lightning, his hand still cupping her breast, his other one up her skirt.
Moments ago, it had felt thrilling, but now it only seemed sordid and humiliatingly shameful.
Knowing what she did about him, how could she have responded to him in such a way?
She did her best to scramble off him, but then her ankle made its agony known again, and she let out a moan of pain rather than the pleasure she’d been consumed with seconds ago, reaching down to cup her foot.
‘Are you hurt?’ Nico asked, and he sounded frustratingly calm, even disinterestedly polite.
He was already sitting up, running a hand through the hair she feared she’d mussed up.
Had she had her hands in his hair? Yes, she was pretty sure she had.
How on earth had she lost control so quickly, so completely?
Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.
‘I twisted my ankle,’ Ashley admitted through gritted teeth.
The pain wasn’t as excruciating as the total humiliation she felt in that moment.
She’d come here on a mission, and she’d failed beyond her wildest imaginings.
Even as her body thudded with the after effects of desire, she only felt shame.
She couldn’t even blame Nico—he might have kissed her first, but she’d been lying on top of him, her heart, or at least her lust, in her eyes. She’d been ridiculous.
‘So that’s why you fell on top of me?’ Nico remarked dryly. ‘I thought maybe you were begging me to save your employees. Not the most novel way to do it, but I suppose it might work with some men.’
Tears of anger as well as mortification stung her eyes. ‘You certainly acted like it could have worked with you,’ she snapped. ‘But, as it happens, I tripped. I certainly wasn’t begging,’ she stated with as much dignity as she could muster, which was precious little. ‘And I never would like that.’
‘Oh, no? You’ll kiss a man to sign his death warrant, but not to save someone else?’
For a second, Ashley could only stare. There were spots of colour high on Nico’s bladed cheekbones, and his eyes glittered not with desire but with anger, even rage.
The mood in the limo had changed suddenly and completely, and she was aware of an entirely different kind of danger emanating from this man that she couldn’t understand at all.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she stated flatly. ‘At all. So, if you care to enlighten me…’
‘I don’t,’ Nico replied shortly. ‘You can get out of my limo and limp back to wherever you came from. But not to Infinite Innovations,’ he informed her with lethal silkiness.
‘The building has been taken over by my staff and is in the process of being cleared. Your things will be in the lobby, should you care to retrieve them.’
She did the hurt princess look very well, Nico thought sardonically, and she’d been the one to accuse him of being some kind of brooding princeling! Her big green eyes were glassy with tears, her face pale, her lip caught between her straight, white teeth.
‘Please…can’t we talk about this?’ she whispered.
‘So you can throw yourself at me again? As entertaining an idea as that is…’ He made a mocking show of checking his watch. ‘I’m a busy man, princess.’
‘Don’t call me that!’ The words exploded out of her, low and savage, surprising them both.
Slowly Nico lowered his arm. ‘Don’t call you princess?’
‘No.’ She wrapped her arms around her middle, bending over so her hair fell down in gloriously tangled waves, so he couldn’t see her face. ‘Don’t.’
Nico stared at her, curious as to why she’d reacted so strongly to a simple word, but also determined to remain unmoved.
‘I won’t call you anything, because you’re about to get out of my car.
’ To make the point even clearer, he leaned over and opened the door, trying not to react to her vanilla and almond scent or the way her silken hair tickled his cheek as he loomed over her.