Chapter Nine #2
She wanted the dark intimacy of his desire, but she wanted this time with him even more. She wanted to talk to him, get to know him. She wanted to steal away pieces of him whether he was willing to part with them or not.
“I have a couple of hours before the sitting,” she said, managing to sound breezy. “Keep me company until then?”
“If you promise to go to bed on time tonight,” he countered instantly.
“Fine.” She dragged him to a faded but cheerful yellow table away from the rest, one with a chess board drawn into its worn grain.
When she went for the chair opposite him, he tugged her into his lap. And then he took her mouth with a roughness that made her gasp. On and on the kiss went, his tongue thrusting in an erotic dance that made her cheeks heat.
A little urgency, a lot of impatience and a whole lot of darkly possessive declaration that she was his—despite who saw her naked—the kiss was eloquent.
“Whether I sleep or not is up to you, isn’t it?” she whispered, when he released her. “I’m not letting you leave me alone in that bed again.”
That raised brow greeted her like an old friend.
It was the warmth he got in his eyes when she argued with him, the hitch of his mouth when he smiled at her, that little tic in his jaw when his control was teetering on the edge that returned that fizzy feeling to her chest.
Alessandro knew he should’ve waited for her at the villa, waited for her to finish her appointments and come to him. He could catch up on much-needed sleep, try to recoup the time he’d lost because he’d walked away from two more days of business meetings.
But he was done denying himself this small pocket of pleasure.
To leave Sam that night, her soft pliant body, her flushed face, her wide smile had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
Not just because what he wanted was to be buried inside her, because he wanted to discover if having Sam, if losing himself in her body, would rid him of this…obsession. This constant need. This…voracious hunger.
She looked like a sunflower when she teased him. Or laughed with him. Or when she mentioned orgasms and blushed fiercely. Or when she got mad at him. Or when she tried to hide how much he hurt her or how aroused she got around him.
Every minute with her was like standing alone in an entire field of sunflowers. He constantly felt as if he’d miss something precious or that he could spend a lifetime with her and still be unable to take it all in.
The want she made him feel was a drive for life.
A fire in his belly. A newfound appreciation for each day, each minute.
As if she were introducing him back to himself, one facet at a time.
And he was on constant edge, trying to manage it all.
Trying to not feel so much. Trying to do damage control for when she left him and suddenly he had no one but himself again.
Nothing but a yawning ocean of loneliness in front of him.
The alternative that he could ask her to stay was unthinkable. Unbearable.
“What are your plans for fall?” he said, once their orders were out of the way.
“Starting college for a business degree. Eventually, I want to stretch beyond just oil paintings. They’re tedious and time-consuming, but I love them.
I need to build passive income streams.” She dipped her fork into the pasta and took a big bite.
“It would be fun if I can get out of California, but out of state means I’ll end up with huge loans.
Also, I don’t think Mom can take it. A community college is my best bet. ”
“If you need money for college, I’ll pay…” He cleared his throat when she pinned him with a fierce look. “I will loan it to you.”
She cast him a sweet look that packed a punch. If he weren’t so damned turned on by her temper, by her clever moves in chess, by her voracious appetite, that sweet sarcasm that made her eyes pop would’ve floored him. “And why would you do that?”
“Because I have more money than I know what to do with, tesoro.” Irritation coated his words.
How did he explain to her that he wanted to remain a part of her life even when he wasn’t there?
He didn’t understand it himself. “Like I said, it can be a loan.” There, he was even making all kinds of adjustments for her.
“So we’re going to keep in touch after I leave?”
He suppressed the fingers of panic that rose at that idea. “You’re being difficult on purpose.”
“Just establishing the etiquette for after-fling behavior.”
“Sameera…”
“It’s bad enough I haven’t told Mom everything. The last thing I want to explain to her is where I got the college tuition from.”
“You haven’t told her—”
“That I’ve swapped brothers? No.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“That’s what everyone thinks. Even Angelina. Though, she won’t say it to my face.” She ran the tip of his finger down his tight jaw. “It doesn’t bother me.”
It bothered him. Not what people thought of him and her, but how they treated her, how they saw her. That his brother would always have a claim on her affection bothered him.
It was the height of hypocrisy after he’d declared that this was nothing but a fling. But he wanted no other man to have such significance in her life. No other man to know her as well as he did.
Cristo, there was nothing rational in this.
“Mom will say you’re taking advantage of me,” she said, that familiar rancor back in her voice. “At least your aunt puts the blame at my feet.”
“Zia knows? How’s that a good thing that she blames you?”
“Because she thinks I have enough sense to make my own decisions. Even if they’re morally wrong. As to why…” she bit her lip “… Matteo told your parents. He’s continuing his I-will-admit-all-my-sins phase.”
“And as usual, he doesn’t think of anyone else. Was Zia…rude to you?”
Her smile made him relax. “Oh, she’s far too nice to say anything to my face, Alessandro.
You know that. But she’s been considerably cooler toward me.
I caught something in Italian along the lines of…
coming between brothers, but who knows? To give him credit, Matteo did explain that he’d cheated on me.
Clearly that doesn’t absolve me of the sin of trapping you when I was done with him. ”
“You didn’t trap me, bella. If anything—”
“What, Alessandro? You trapped my poor, na?ve, unsophisticated self, is that it? Seduced me away from your brother because I didn’t know better?”
He realized then that he could hurt her, in ways he hadn’t understood until then.
Gripping her chin, he tugged until she looked into his eyes.
“Thinking like that means invalidating everything you’ve endured, everything that makes you who you are today.
I’ll never again make the mistake of thinking you less than who you are, tesoro. All of you.”
Shock flared her eyes wide. Swallowing, she looked away from him.
How did he tell her it wasn’t their age difference or her health or Matteo that bothered him? That it was his lack of control when it came to her, his ever-growing need to steal her away from the world, to protect her, even from himself, that ate through him?
It didn’t matter that this was temporary. That she thought of this as an adventure, that she probably even considered him to be a dangerous, exotic once-in-a-lifetime ride she’d never try again.
Christo, even that didn’t dent his self-esteem. On the contrary, he found immense pleasure in the fact that she found him attractive, more so than his own brother.
Whatever he told himself, it didn’t change the intensity of his feelings for her. Didn’t change the fact that he was beginning to crave more and more of her, even knowing there was no future for them.
Before the moment could be fractured by his incapability to verbalize his chaotic thoughts, his chauffeur appeared at their table with a bag in his hand. He took the bag and handed it to Sameera.
She tore through the packaging and spread the contents out onto the table in front of him.
Little jars of oil paints in a rainbow of colors and a variety of brushes and a bunch of other things he’d picked cluttered the table, tinkling against each other.
If it were up to him, he’d have bought the entire store.
“There’s more,” he added, his heart crawling into his throat at her stunned expression.
His first impulse had been to buy her jewelry. He’d discarded the idea immediately. He wanted her to remember him when she left.
Now every time she painted using one of these colors, she’d think of him.
Really, he was a selfish bastard.
Her fingers shook as she picked a glass jar with amber color that glittered in the sunlight. “These brushes and paints…they’re super expensive. How did you even know this brand was the…” Then she gasped, eyes going impossible wide in her small face.
Unable to help himself, he ran his knuckles over the sharp jut of her collarbones, once again marveling at the dizzying complexity of how fragile she looked and how strong she was beneath. And while she’d bash him on the head if he told her, both parts enthralled him.
The strength and the fragility…everything about her called to him.
“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”
And then she was back in his lap, trailing kisses all over his face, whispering things he couldn’t make out, and he thought it was the happiest he’d ever been.