CHAPTER 60 - RED
CHAPTER
Red
G ETTING OUT OF THE TAXI at the Scorpio Lounge, I open the door for Arianna and steady her as she clambers out. She’s drunk. I’m unusually a little worse for wear myself. I blame the wine. I can drink anyone under the table when whiskey is in the equation.
Without thinking, I put my arm around her waist and walk towards my club. She doesn’t pull away and I’m glad of that, but as we enter the reception, it’s less than five seconds before I’m accosted by a member of staff.
“Message from Mr Carter, sir. He’s asked to speak to you as soon as you return.”
I frown. I had three missed calls from Del on my mobile before we’d been served dinner at the restaurant and I ignored them. “Tell Mr Carter I’ll catch up with him in the morning.” Not waiting for a response, I carry on in the direction of my personal rooms.
“Don’t you need to see what he wants?” Arianna asks, leaning into me unsteadily as we climb the stairs.
“No, I don’t.” I want to stay where I am because the feel of her body against mine is nice, and it’s disappointing to reach the top of the stairs. “I’m on a rare night off. More to the point, I’ve surprised myself by having a good time!”
“So have I.” Arianna smiles shyly. “Although I do need to sober up!”
She giggles, and the look on her beautiful face does something to my heart. Then I remember what I am and, furthermore, what I promised. “Come on, I’ll make some coffee. ”
In the room, I pop a pod in my La Marzocco machine and flick it on, watching out of the corner of my eye as Arianna unclips her hair, shakes it free and kicks off her stilettos.
God, she really is exquisite.
I cannot believe I spoke so candidly tonight about Lorna.
I hinted at things I’ve never given Del, and he’s my best friend!
But the words just came out, and the weirdest thing is that I don’t feel weakened by it.
Handing Arianna any knowledge even a day ago wouldn’t have happened under torture, but tonight. .. tonight is different.
She is different.
As for Roberto Bristoni, I don’t believe she’s touched the sides. I’m not sure I want to know what he did, even if she’s willing to tell me. After all, I can’t kill a cunt who’s already dead, which seriously pisses me off.
I also realize I’ve grossly underestimated not only what Arianna has been through at the hands of her first husband and her father, but also what she’s like as a person.
Arianna is not spoiled - she’s broken .
And I want to mend her.
Anger ignites in my veins for what she’s been through, but I push it away. Not tonight. Tonight, I’m a normal man returning home with his normal wife.
Except none of that is true, otherwise I’d be taking this wife of mine to bed.
Instead, I let the coffee machine deliver its first cup. Picking it up, I put it to the side and set the machine off for the second cup, sensing Arianna’s presence behind me without needing to look.
“Is that mine?” Her arm snakes between me and the side table, slender fingers reaching towards the coffee cup.
I hand her the drink, my fingers lingering longer than required. “I don’t know whether I’ve already mentioned it, but you look beautiful tonight.”
“No, you haven’t, but thank you. You have good taste in women’s clothes.” She stares at my hand on hers, and I reluctantly drop the connection.
Without taking a sip, she places the coffee back on the table to brush something off my lapel. “You have spaghetti on your jacket.”
“Do I?” I frown, aware she’s far too close to me.
“Actually, you don’t.” Arianna doesn’t move. She’s inches from me, her hand still on my jacket. Is she waiting for me to kiss her ?
I can’t. I mustn’t. I promised ...
But the draw is too strong, and I slowly lower my head. My eyes move to her lips as they raise towards mine, and I’m not pushed away when my lips softly brush hers.
I don’t take her mouth like I did before and instead, kiss her lightly and gently. She responds, her lips parting.
My fingers trace the outline of her beautiful face, the fire within me ramping up. My teeth nip her bottom lip, tugging it down, my kisses now becoming fervent.
I pull her towards me, crushing her breasts against my chest, and she whimpers.
God, I love that. She’s done it before, and I loved it then too. Now I want to hear her moan my name as she writhes underneath me.
As my kiss gets deeper, my arousal is unbearable.
I swing Arianna around and press her up against the door, my tongue invading her mouth.
But it’s when her hands tug out my shirt that I lose all control.
I no longer possess enough sense to analyze anything, aside from the sweet, hot taste of her mouth.
“God, I want you,” I growl, picking her up and throwing her on the bed. “And now I’m having you.”