Bethany rushed back toward the quaint but expensive café where she'd eaten lunch, hope, frustration and worry playing an out-of-sync symphony along her nerve endings.
She'd been in Rome three days. Beautiful, warm days during which she'd spent more time getting lost than sight seeing and not one of which had taken her a single step closer to her goal. The plan to come to Italy, meet a sexy man, have a week long fling and go home with the certainty she was not the passionless prude her ex-husband had accused her of being, had been crazy from the start. Her mother hadn't agreed of course, having come up with the plan to begin with. She'd also given Bethany the all-expenses paid trip to Rome along with a boatload of advice on improving her image and a strong recommendation to have a no-strings affair.
Coming from the rather conservative, shy woman who had spent thirty years married to the same man, the suggestion would have been hilarious if it hadn't been so shocking.
Not wanting to hurt her mom's feelings, Bethany had taken the self-improvement advice. She'd spent a hundred dollars having her mousy brown hair shaped and high-lighted, another thirty on a "Belly Dancing in a Box" kit, and several nights using the castanets and tips included to try to get in touch with her more sensuous side. She wasn't sure how much good it had done, but she now knew how to roll her hips with the best of them. She'd also had her very first pedicure so her toenails looked good in sandals.
None of which appeared to have done a bit of good in making Bethany appear any less boring to the opposite sex than her ex had accused her of being.
Shoving open the door to the small café, she propelled herself inside and ran smack into a wall. She didn't remember there being a wall opposite the entrance when she'd been here earlier.
Dazed, she contemplated that oddity as the wall shifted and two warm hands came down on her shoulders. "Scusi. Siete guisti?" She lifted her head, and met dark brown eyes in a face angels would envy. She'd never met anyone this gorgeous in her life. Not even her ex, Kurt, was a patch on this guy. He'd been pretty boy handsome, but this Italian Adonis was all masculine maturity. Not that he looked old, quite the opposite. He couldn't be more than thirty, but there was a wealth of sophisticated knowledge in his gaze she doubted she would have when she was ninety.
"I'm sorry. I mean, perdonilo prego," she said, repeating one of the phrases she'd learned from the set of Italian tapes her mother had insisted she listen to on the plane ride over.
"You are English?" The sexy voice reached a place inside that hadn't been touched in two years of marital intimacy and it was all she could do not to shiver.
"American."
His hands squeezed her shoulders, but he did not push her away and she made no effort to move back.
"You have no need to apologize."
"I wasn't looking where I was going."
"For this, I am grateful." He smiled, the implication of his words and look of male appreciation in his eyes unmistakable.
An invisible vacuum sucked all the air from her immediate surroundings, leaving her light headed and incapable of response to his flirtatious comment.
"You are in a hurry?" he asked.
"I am?"
His smile grew, sending her heart rate into the stratosphere. "You came through the door very quickly."
"Oh, yes. I am, in a hurry that is… I forgot my purse here earlier and didn't realize it until I was at the subway station wanting to buy a ticket," she babbled.
His expression turned grave. "This is not good."
"No." But at the moment she couldn't quite remember why.
Someone said something behind him and he turned, his hands dropping from her shoulders. He apologized for blocking the exit and then slipped an arm around her waist as naturally as if they'd known each other for years, and used it to guide her away from the door. A couple walked past them. The woman, a glamorous brunette who resembled a young Sophia Loren, gave Bethany a look of speculation tinged with envy as she passed by. Considering the fact she was with a pretty fine specimen herself, the envy surprised Bethany.
But she didn't dwell on the strange look long. She couldn't, not with his hand still attached to her waist. Sparks of excitement shot from where his fingers rested against her ribcage to the rest of her body in an electric reaction she'd never experienced before. She'd read about instant sexual attraction, but she'd never felt it and nothing she'd come across in books came close to conveying the sensations zinging along her nerve endings right now. She could barely breathe and it was a safe bet her brain wasn't functioning properly.
That was probably why she still hadn't done anything about reclaiming her purse. "I need to…" Her voice trailed off as their gazes met again.
"I will ask about your bag."
"Thank you."
He took her with him, his hand firmly curled around her waist…and she let him.
The possibility he did not feel the overwhelming sexual chemistry dominating her senses tried to form as a solid thought in her head, but she rejected it. Something this powerful could not be one-sided. Could it?
The owner, a short, rather round man with a friendly air, produced her purse with a big smile and voluble Italian when her companion asked about it.
Handing her the pink and black bag barely bigger than a wallet, he admonished, "You should take better care, signorina." He shook his head. "What would have happened if I had not seen it sitting on the chair, I will not guess at."
"It would no doubt be gone by now," the man by her side replied.
She shot him a sideways glance, wondering if he thought she was some kind of idiot for leaving it behind, but his expression was serious, not condemning.
"I don't keep my passport or most of my money in it," she said in her own defense. "Just a few Euros, my driver's license for identification and a credit card."
"Look to see it is all there. Antonio may have seen your purse after someone else did."
She nodded and then did a quick rummage through the contents. She wasn't worried about the make up and other girly stuff she'd only taken to carrying since her arrival in Italy, but none of it appeared to have been disturbed either.
She looked up at the café owner and smiled. "It's all here."
He nodded, puffing his chest out. "I see it almost the moment you get up from your table and put it behind my counter."
"Thank you." She took some money out to give Antonio as a thank you, but he waved it away.
"No, signorina. It is my pleasure to help such a beautiful woman."
She laughed, shaking her head at his typical Italian exaggeration. "Well, thank you, anyway."
"You do not believe him?"
"That it is his pleasure to help? I don't doubt it. He seems like a very nice man." And she smiled again at the proprietor. "You've really saved me a lot of hassle. Thanks."
"Ah, so it is the part about your beauty you discount?" her knight errant asked teasingly.
She shrugged, the feel of her arm brushing his torso as she did so temporarily waylaying the synapses connecting her brain to her mouth so she had to remember what he'd asked before she could answer him.
T
"I'm hardly Miss America material, but then few women are." Was she fishing for compliments? Andre stepped back from her and let his gaze travel slowly up her body from her feet to the top of her head. "I would not mind seeing you dressed in an evening gown. It is part of the pageant, yes?" He brushed his chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking at her with a connoisseur's eye. "Or perhaps in a swim suit… "
"What?"
Andre almost laughed out loud at the comic look of disbelief on the lovely woman's face. He didn't, of course. She already looked ready to bolt. Shy uncertainty radiated off of her and a little used urge to protect roared to the forefront of his consciousness like a storm wave crashing over the bow of a ship.
"I'm sure this could be arranged if you asked her to dinner. Take her someplace very nice and she can dress up for you. Then maybe tomorrow, you will take her out of the city, someplace nice to bathe." Antonio's heavy-handed suggestion brought the sensual heat of Andre's thoughts to boiling point.
Her flirty sundress revealed the sort of curves that fueled his nighttime fantasies. The thought of seeing them in a skimpy bikini while they swam was enough to make his trousers fit extremely tight in places.
"But I… That's not necessary. You shouldn't… " She sounded like she was strangling on her own tongue trying to get the words out.
"Antonio, you are embarrassing her," Andre admonished the older man.
"Do not be stupid." His father's oldest friend made a sound of disgust. "The young. I am helping you out here. Can you not see that? In my youth, I would not have needed an old man to suggest I ask such a pretty girl out. You just ask your father."
Before Andre could reply, she was tearing herself from his side and moving away, a phony smile pasted on her face. "I'd better be going."
"You have plans?" He moved toward her, swallowing the small distance she'd put between their bodies, craving even such innocent intimacy on a level that shocked him. "You are meeting someone?"
"Uh… no," she admitted, her gray eyes wide. "I don't have plans exactly, but I wanted to try to see the Forums. If finding them is anything like finding the Sistine Chapel, I'll probably get lost again. You'd think it would be impossible, wouldn't you? I mean, I bet everyone in Rome knows where they are, but I've already managed to get on the wrong bus twice."
She started edging back toward the door, her expression pained. "If I don't leave now, I won't make it before they stop giving tours."
He reached out and grabbed her arm before she could run into the occupied table behind her. "Be careful." She looked behind her, saw the table and then back at him, her face going pink. "I didn't realize… Uh, thank you."
He reeled her back in, not understanding this need he had to touch, but willing to feed it. "You wish to see the Forums?"
"Yes." She sighed, the blush on her cheeks intensifying. "There's so much I want to see, but I've spent hours every day trying to find things. I guess I sound like an idiot."
She sounded and looked like a woman who should not be on her own in such a large city.
"It is a big city. Getting lost is easy."
"I bet you never do."
"Of course not." Then he grinned. "But I do have the advantage of knowing the city quite well even though I do not live here."
He waited to see if she would take the bait and ask him for directions, or even better, to show her the way to the Forums.
"I could live here for years and still get lost, I'm afraid. Kurt used to say I could turn around in a bathroom and forget which direction to go when I came out."
"Who is this Kurt?" The idea of another man in her life bothered him more than it should considering he did not yet even know her name.
"My ex-husband."
"Ah. A man foolish enough to let you go can have no opinions worth remembering." She laughed and shook her head as she had earlier when Antonio had called her beautiful. "My mother says the same thing."
"She is a smart woman."
"Yes. She wouldn't get lost trying to find Rome's biggest attractions. She thought I should take a tour." A frown marred the sweet lines of her face. "Maybe I should have."
"This I do not believe. Had you come with a group, I should not have met you."
"Oh…" She stared at him as if trying to comprehend his words.
Since his English was excellent, he didn't think the problem was translation.
"I will take you to the Forums."
Her eyes lit up and then turned troubled as she flicked a glance at Antonio. "But…"
"It is alright, signorina. This is Andre di Rinaldi. He is a good man. I have known his father since we were boys on the same football team. He comes often to Rome on business and visits this old man."
She did not look appreciably reassured. "I did not tell you about me getting lost in hopes you would offer to take me yourself," she blurted out.
"But why not? Have you no wiles, child?" Antonio asked, sounding scandalized and amused at the same time while his eyes told Andre this woman was something special.
He had already figured that one out for himself. "I would not have offered if I had not wished to take you." "Are you sure you have the time?" she asked.
"I have no appointments today. This is not usual for me. It must be Providence."
She stared at him for several seconds, chewing her bottom lip, her eyes cloudy with uncertainty. He waited, not wanting to pressure her, but knowing if she turned him down he would probably go to ridiculous lengths to discover where she was staying and engineer another meeting. He'd never felt this compulsion to be with a woman and as much as he liked her, he didn't like feeling so little control over his own desires. There was also a small part of him, the cynical man who had been raised in wealth and to expect people to try to take advantage of him, that wondered if any woman could be as sincere as she appeared.
He allowed none of these conflicting emotions to show on his face, however.
With a short little sigh, she put her hand out in the small space between them. "My name is Bethany Dayton and I would be very grateful if you would help me find the Forums without getting lost again." Giving into the urge that had been riding him since she'd first propelled herself into his arms, he pulled her body flush with his and bent down to kiss both her cheeks. Her skin was soft and she smelled of spring flowers and warm sunshine.
She hung, suspended in his arms, making no effort to be released, her lips parted as if waiting for a much more intimate kiss and it took all his self-control not to give it to her.
"It is good to meet you Bethany."
Bethany couldn't string two syllables together to make a reply after he'd all but kissed her.
Well, he had kissed her, but not on the mouth. Who knew that lips touching cheeks could cause such unsettling reactions in her feminine places? It was a good thing her dress was made of opaque fabric or the stinging tightness of her nipples would be more than a minor physical discomfort. It would be downright embarrassing.
Bethany concentrated on getting her physical reactions under control as Andre said goodbye to the café owner. It didn't help that as he led her from the restaurant, he kept her hand clasped in his.
He stopped beside a black car, slung low to the ground. It was some kind of sports car and looked expensive. It also looked too small for such a tall man to get inside. However, after leaning over her to buckle her into the passenger seat, making her breathing pattern resemble that of a marathon runner on his last mile, he had no problem sliding into the driver's seat. Unlike the taxi ride from the airport to her hotel when she'd spent the entire time cringing at how close they got to other cars, she barely noticed the traffic. She was too busy soaking in every detail about him.
She couldn't quite believe she was here with him, not only because he was a virtual stranger, but because he was the kind of man that made women swoon.
He turned and smiled at her. "You are watching me." "Does it bother you?" "To have a beautiful woman look at me? You are talking about an Italian male here." He grinned. "Of course I like it, even if it makes driving difficult." "It bothers you to have people watch you drive?" "Having you look at me takes my attention from where it should be. It puts thoughts in my head not related to the other cars on the road." "Like what?" she asked before having a sudden revelation about what he could mean and wished she'd kept her mouth shut.
She could feel her face flame as his laughter filled the car.
"Do you really wish me to answer this question?"
"Uh… no."
His expression was all confident, sexy male. "Perhaps we can discuss it over dinner tonight."
"You want to have dinner with me?"
"Sì, carina."
Pretty one. She liked that. Warmth curled around her heart even as heat pooled deep in her belly at the thought of what he might want to discuss. "I'd like that."
He took her to an expensive restaurant just as his friend had suggested. It gave her an excuse to wear the ridiculously expensive, ruby red dress her mom had talked her into buying the week before she'd flown to Rome. It hit mid-thigh, which was not her usual length, but the look of blatant male appreciation in his eyes when she walked into the lobby of her hotel made her glad she'd gone for daring rather than drab.
However, at the table in an exclusive hotel dining room twenty minutes later, she had to struggle not to squirm as the clingy fabric barely covered everything important when she sat down. The fact her now bare thighs were covered by the tablecloth did nothing to increase her comfort because the expression in Andre's eyes said he knew her predicament and had x-ray vision to see the results.
He'd been like that all day, teasing her and reminding her of feminine sensuality. The hours they'd spent at the Forums had been incredible. Not only had he gotten her there without getting lost, but then he'd given her a personal tour of several monuments, showing an unexpected knowledge of Roman history that enthralled her.
"You are doing it again, Bethany."
"Doing what?"
"Staring at me."
She started and flushed with embarrassment. She had been. He was just so gorgeous and in his business suit, he looked like some kind of tycoon — not a guy she'd met in his father's friend's café.
"I can't help it," she admitted.
He smiled, making her heart do crazy things while the thighs that felt so exposed quivered.
"You are very forthright."
"Because I admit I like looking at you?" She didn't have the sophistication to play male-female games the way her ex-husband had done and Andre was so clearly expecting.
"You do not do the hard-to-get thing. I like this."
"I'm not very good at playing anything."
"I do not believe that." The wicked twinkle in his dark eyes let her know exactly what he was referring to and it had nothing to do with psychological games.
"You're right. I can play some things." She smiled mischievously as his dark eyes heated with desire.
"I am glad to hear this."
She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes in an obvious parody of a vamp. "Actually, I've been told I'm very good with my mouth."
His jaw dropped in shock and she had to hold back a shout of laughter as she leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "I play the tuba."
His laughter drew the attention of the other guests and a censorious glance from the head waiter. He shook his head, his eyes still glowing with humor. "The tuba?"
"I had to lift weights to stay in shape for marching band, but I was at a distinct advantage during cold weather. My instrument acted as a wind barrier."
"Do you still do weight training?"
"Actually, yes. I enjoy it. See?" She lifted her arm and flexed her muscles. She wasn't anything like the professional women body builders, but she was tone.
He lifted his hand and ran a finger slowly along her bicep. "I do see and it's lovely." She gasped as feelings fizzed through her, making her toned muscles turn to jelly.
His brow rose quizzically.
"I can't believe the way I respond to your simplest touch," she admitted.
Smiling lazily, his finger trailed to her shoulder and slipped under the spaghetti strap as her arm dropped. "No touch between a man and woman who are attracted to each other is simple."
She liked the attracted to each other part. "I guess so, but this is a little overwhelming. My whole body is reacting to what should be a casual caress, for goodness' sake."
"I have noticed this." His dark gaze lowered to her breasts where she knew hard points had formed under the clinging material of her dress. "And I delight in it."
The self-satisfaction in his voice combined with his all too knowing expression made her feel vulnerable, which in turn made her angry. This trip had not been about her becoming receptive to yet another sexy, experienced man. She was on a mission to reinforce her own sense of feminine power.
It was all very well to say they were attracted, but she was the one whose desire was on display for the world to see. Pulling away from his touch, she crossed her arms protectively over her chest and tried to draw her defenses around her.
The smile slipped off Andre's face to be replaced by an almost fierce expression. "Do you think it is only one-sided, this powerful response? I could not stand right now to save my life."
Her gaze flicked questioningly toward where the table hid his lower body from her sight.
"Exactly," he said grimly. "If your body is susceptible to this thing between us, so is mine. I am not a hormonal adolescent any longer to be excited by the mere brush of my finger against a woman's bare skin."
Yet he had been.
"It is not something you should fear, carina, for I am at its mercy as well."
"It?"
"This sexual need that is so strong it drowns out all logic and reason. Do you think I make it a habit to pick up strange women and spend the day with them, no matter how beautiful?"
"I don't know. You said it yourself. We're strangers."
"I assure you, I do not. No more than you would normally have dinner with a man you had never met before today."
"How do you know?"
He stared at her, his brown eyes seeing too much. "I know."
Her mind balked at the belief that a man as incredible as the one sitting across the table from her could be as affected by her as Andre claimed to be, but her heart beat with the necessity for his words to be true.
"This kind of thing is impossible. I don't believe in love at first sight." Especially after her disastrous marriage, which had been the result of a whirlwind courtship.
"Deep, abiding love between two people must grow." The words agreed with her, but his tone and expression questioned both their assertions.
"Yes," she stressed. "Like a plant. It takes lots of water, sunshine and healthy soil to make a flower bloom. Real love can't just happen in an instant."
"But there are plants that grow in a day. They are unique, extremely rare, but no less real than their more conventional counterparts."
"What are you saying?"
"I do not know, but this thing that is between us — we cannot dismiss it as nothing."
"No, we can't do that." Her voice was husky because the emotions coursing through her tightened her throat and made it hard to breathe.
He reached out once again, this time taking both her wrists in his grip and tugged. "Do not hide from me."
She resisted, her mind at war with her heart and her body until she saw in his face a mirror of the need and conflicting feelings raging in her. She let him pull her hands toward him across the small table.
His thumbs caressed her inner wrists while his eyes remained locked on her face. "It is physical, Bethany, but that is not all it is."
And she believed him because she felt it too. "I know."
They danced after dinner, her body pressed tightly to his. She could feel the affect their closeness had on him, but he made no move to take her someplace more private.
They talked in quiet murmurs. She told him why she'd come to Italy, about her short, but awful marriage and subsequent divorce. He told her about his older brother and a woman who loved him. He spoke so glowingly of this Gianna that Bethany began to stiffen in his arms.
He rubbed her back soothingly, while holding her with tensile strength against him. "I have no desire for Gianna. She is like a sister to me, I think to Rico also, but she feels differently."
"You wish he did too?"
"He's engaged to a mercenary bitch the whole family is hoping he'll have enough sense not to marry. Gianna would be a vast improvement."
"Mercenary?"
"She wants only what his money can buy her and the status he can give to her. She has no love in her heart."
"Your brother must be pretty well off."
"My father has gone into semi-retirement. Rico is the president of the Rinaldi Bank."
There were Rinaldi Banks all over Italy. "Do you mean he manages one of the branches?"
"My family own the banks."
This time she managed to jerk out of his arms. "You own a bank?"
"I own shares in the bank, as do my father and brother and several cousins." He grabbed her and pulled her back into his arms. "Relax, Bethany. It is no big deal."
"You don't run the bank?"
"No."
She breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed against him.
"I am Chairman of the Board. My brother and I run it together."
Before she could go tense again, his lips landed against the base of her throat and started doing amazing things to her equilibrium. "What I am does not matter so much, does it?"
"Your lifestyle must be so far removed from mine, we might as well live on separate planets. I bet you eat in places like this all the time. I don't. In fact, I've never ordered off a menu without prices before. I drive a Ford Escort and take myself out for a latte when I want to celebrate. You probably keep a bottle of expensive champagne chilling in your office for that kind of thing."
He stopped trying to dance and stared down at her, his expression so serious, she could not make herself look away. "Yes, I grew up around wealth and I've seen what it does to people. My brother's fiancée is typical in our set and that is not the kind of woman I want to spend my time with."
"There are nice rich women."
"Yes, my mother is one of them, but I've never met a woman like you, Bethany and I don't care if you dance topless for a living, I want to be with you."
"I work in a title insurance company."
"Good. My mother might have had a problem with the topless dancing part."
He'd told her a lot about his parents and she realized they weren't all that different from her own. They cared about their children and from the things he'd said, she could see his mother doing the same kind of crazy things her mom did to make her children happy. "Your family sounds wonderful."
"They are." The love he felt for them made his voice rich with feeling and another big chunk came crashing down from the defensive wall around her heart.
They danced until the music changed to something with a faster beat and then Andre paid for their dinner and took her for a walk. Not many stars could be seen in the night sky. The light pollution around Rome was too great, but it was incredibly romantic nonetheless, or maybe it was her companion that was so romantic.
"So, you came to Rome with the intention of having a hot affair?"
Her hand twisted nervously in his. "It sounds terrible when you say it out loud."
"No, merely interesting."
She didn't ask what he meant by that. He'd spent the entire day and evening showing her he wanted her and how much. The only question was whether or not she could go through with it. She hadn't expected to become emotionally involved, not in such a short time and the risk of intensifying that emotion with lovemaking scared her.
"I'm not sure I was thinking straight when I told my mom I'd give it a try."
"But you are thinking straight now and you want me, Bethany."
She didn't answer, silence her only defense against the truth.
He stopped her and pulled her around to face him. Looking down into her eyes, he asked, "Do you want me?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to wait?" Andre asked the question, unsure what he would do if she said yes.
"You haven't even kissed me." Her soft gray eyes mirrored bemusement.
Did she think he had to kiss her to know he wanted her? "If I start, I may not be able to stop."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Are you usually so lacking in control?"
"You know I am not."
"Yes. You told me."
And she had believed him. He liked knowing that.
She licked her lips, her chest rising and falling with short shallow breaths. "I want you to kiss me."
Andre could not believe Bethany had said yes to the kiss after he had made clear the probability it would lead to much more. "Let me take you back to your hotel."
"All right."
"Do you know what you are inviting?" Did he?
He never did crazy things like this, but he knew she told the truth. About everything. She'd only been with one man, her ex-husband — the bastard stupid enough to cheat on her and then let her go. The only risk they would take in making love was pregnancy and he fully intended to use condoms. He was besotted, not stupid.
"I know," she whispered.
"Then let us go."
Her hotel room was not the luxury she was sure he was used to, but he said nothing as he followed her inside, the intensity of his desire surrounding her. The double bed dominated the smallish room, or perhaps it only felt that way because what she planned to do there consumed her thoughts.
She dropped her purse on the dresser and turned toward him, need that was much more than merely physical beating a sharp tattoo in her breast. "Do you want anything?"
He locked his hands on her waist and pulled her unresisting body flush with his own. "Only you, carina."
Then he lowered his head until their mouths met. Skyrockets went off at the first touch of his lips against hers. She pressed her hands against the rock-like wall of his chest, enthralled by the heat emanating through his shirt. It called to her on a wholly elemental level. His smell, his taste, his very essence captivated her senses, telling her primitive mind he belonged to her and always had, long before she had met him.
No reticence belonged in this coming together and her body seemed to know it from the top of her head that felt ready to explode with desire to her fingers busy undoing buttons on his shirt to her toes curled in her spiked heels. Everything about him was right for her. Everything about her was right for him. How she knew this, she could not fathom, but she knew. This was no one-night stand or the beginning of a short fling that would end with her return to the States. This was something far more.
His tongue pressed against her lips and she parted them without hesitation. He possessed her mouth with a sensuality that left her dazed and shaking as she leaned against him, unable to stand on her own.
Perfect. She'd never experienced anything so perfect.
His hands moved from her waist to her bottom and he touched her, squeezing her, caressing her, making her crazy with want before moving lower. Skilled fingers found their way under her skirt to the highly sensitive flesh along the backs of her thighs and up her buttocks. It felt so good, incredible.
She moaned, finally getting her own hands inside his shirt. The hair covering his chest was an unknown to her. Kurt had kept his chest shaved, but she loved the rich textures of Andre's skin and hair, the way he felt so much like a man. She could touch him like this forever.
Impossibly, he deepened the kiss while using his hold on her bottom to press her into the heat of him, making her supremely aware of his arousal. The way he moved his body against her, the masculine groans coming from low in his chest, the strength of his fingers against her bottom - they all bespoke of tenuous control and she wanted to push him over the edge.
The knowledge she could excite him like this turned her on as nothing else could have. She was no passionless prude with this man.
He pulled her bottom a little higher and without conscious thought, she separated her legs so she could wrap them around his waist. He made his approval of her move known with the flexing of his hips and guttural sounds of pleasure. His mouth tore from hers and he said a bunch of words in Italian, most of which she did not understand, but the words beautiful and perfect were in there.
"I want you, Andre."
"Sì. You shall have me."
Their clothes disappeared from their bodies as frantic movement accompanied impassioned pleas from both of them. By the time they fell together naked to the bed, she was ready to expire from the almost painful desire wracking her body.
She arched her hips up. "Take me now, Andre. Now."
He fumbled with a condom and then he was doing as she'd demanded, filling her body with one swift, powerful thrust. Silken tissues stretched to their limit as she sought to accommodate a lover unlike any other. Her muscles went rigid with tension from the effort.
"You can take me, mi amorino. We are made for each other."
"Yes," she hissed as her feminine flesh relaxed and contracted around him, pulling him further inside until he touched her womb.
They made love, fast and furiously, climaxing together with so much power she lost touch with reality for several seconds. When she became more wholly aware he was kissing her all over her face, whispering words of approval and admiration against her skin.
She caught his lips with her own and it started all over again, the touching and pleasuring, but this time he kept the pace slow, bringing her to one more climax before once again taking her on a journey to the stars with him.
They got very little sleep that night and spent the next day together, in and out of bed. Two glorious days went by during which they were inseparable. He had his things moved to her hotel room and then proceeded to show her Rome as she had only dreamed of seeing it. On the third day, he had a bank meeting he had to attend. It was to be followed by a dinner and drinks after.
"I cannot get out of it, carina, but I will send a car for you so you can accompany me to the dinner."
After two days being made love to and told she was the most beautiful woman in the world, there was little room for nerves in the face of meeting his associates. "I'll be ready."
"Wear the pink dress. It is perfect on you."
He'd taken her shopping the day before and insisted on buying her whatever caught her eye. She had balked at first, but he'd been adamant, telling her it gave him far more pleasure than it gave her.
"I'm sorry, Signor di Rinaldi, but there is an urgent call for you. From New York. A family matter… "
Andre looked up at the young man whose hushed voice had stopped the conversation around the conference table. The only family in New York at the moment was his older brother. His parents were on an extended cruise to celebrate their anniversary.
"I will take it in the manager's office." Ten minutes later he put the phone down, disbelief warring with cold fear inside him. Rico was in a coma in a New York hospital.
Andre rapped out instructions to his assistant. He would need a take-off slot at the airport, his jet ready and fueled and some clothes from Bethany's hotel room. He called her, but she was still out sight seeing.
He'd hung up before he realized he should have left a message. It could be his last chance to talk to her for many hours. He wanted nothing more than to take her with him, but she was not carrying a cell phone and he could not wait for her to arrive back at the hotel. Every hour could count in seeing his brother alive.
While Andre was busy with his meetings, Bethany visited the Vatican, but she spent more time thinking than sight seeing. Today was her last official day in Rome, but she and Andre had not discussed the future. She wasn't even sure if he knew she was scheduled to fly out tomorrow.
She hadn't wanted to think about it, but now she could think of nothing else. Would he ask her to stay? Would he invite her to come back? Would he come to the U.S. if she invited him to visit? She knew that if he asked, she would chuck her job and stay. It was impossible. It was crazy, but she'd fallen in love and it was a deeper, more consuming emotion than anything she'd felt for her ex-husband. The thought of leaving Andre made her feel like someone was trying to rip a hole in her chest. She had no desire to find out what it would feel like to actually go.
But for all the wonderful things he'd said to her, he'd never once implied their relationship was permanent. He had not said he loved her, though he called her his little love frequently. Was that simply the Italian way, or did he mean the endearment in a literal sense? If his only interest had been in enjoying a brief affair while he conducted his business in Rome, she could hardly stay on, clinging to a relationship that was not there.
She could barely believe she'd fallen in love with him and if the emotions roiling through her weren't so powerful, she wouldn't. It was a huge jump to believing the same might have happened to him, no matter how mutual their attraction. Things felt real with him. Permanent. More real than anything she had ever known, but feelings weren't fact and she was terrified hers were the only ones engaged.
She was so lost in thought; she was late getting to the room and only had a few minutes to dress before Andre's car was scheduled to arrive for her.
She frantically rushed around getting ready, which was why she did not notice the emptiness of the hotel room until she went to grab a pair of hose from the drawer. No male socks reclined in neat stacks beside the few pairs of hose she'd brought with her to Rome. She opened another drawer, unable to comprehend the meaning of the missing socks. His swim shorts were gone too.
She looked around the room, taking in details that had escaped her earlier. His suitcase was gone. Everything of his was gone. She searched for a note, but did not see one, called the front desk, but there was no message.
The fact his car did not show up for her at the appointed time was almost anti-climactic. Andre had left her. The tenuous hold she had on her heart snapped and it fell to shatter in a million pieces around her.
Fatigue burning his eyes, Andre rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. He'd been flying for eight hours and anticipated touching down in New York in less than one. He could only hope he would find his brother alive when he reached the hospital. He'd spent the flight trying to work, knowing the responsibility of the bank would lie heavily on his shoulders for a while, even if his brother came out of the coma. His thoughts wouldn't stay focused though. Memories of his brother and growing up together in Milan spun through his mind, forcing out the less emotive numbers and business proposals printed on the pages in front of him. Rico had to live.
Andre went straight to the hospital from the airport. A call from his cell phone on the way there confirmed that his brother was indeed alive, though still in a coma. When he reached the hospital, he learned from the nurse that Gianna had been sitting by Rico's bedside for hours without eating or drinking anything. Andre brought sustenance to her, knowing Rico would be furious if Andre allowed her to become sick in her vigil watching over him. He refused to contemplate the possibility that his older brother would not come out of the coma now that his condition had stabilized.
Once he'd spoken to the doctors and taken care of Gianna, it was too late to call Rome. Bethany would be sleeping, but he could not wait to call first thing in the morning her time. He desperately wanted to hear her voice, to tell her about his brother and find the comfort he knew would be waiting for him in her tender heart.
Needing a shower and a change of clothes, he went to the hotel his assistant had checked him into. It wasn't until he was looking for something to wear after the reviving shower that his sleep deprived brain latched onto the fact that all of his clothes had been moved from the hotel.
Porca miseria! Bethany would think he had left her without a word. What had his assistant been thinking? Had the man even thought to leave a message? Andre called only to discover he had not. A furious glance at the clock revealed it was still the middle of the night over there. He could not yet call her and Gianna needed him to share her vigil beside Rico's bed. He returned to the hospital, counting the hours until he could talk to Bethany. He called at midnight, thinking she might still be asleep, but willing to take the chance.
Punch drunk from lack of sleep, he reeled in shock when he was told Bethany had checked out. Had she gone because she'd been hurt? He hated the thought, but could not dismiss it.
He realized he didn't even know when she was scheduled to return home or where her home was. She'd told him about her former marriage, about her family and even her job, but she'd mentioned the town of her origin only once and had never told him what state she lived in. As impossible as it was to believe, they had spent only a few short days together, not long enough to learn everything important. He had not asked for contact information because he had had no intention of letting her leave Italy or him. And damn it, he was sure she had not wanted to go. Now he had to find her.
Bethany finished checking the loan documents for her next appointment and set the neat pile of papers to be signed in the center of her desk. She'd been back from Rome for over a week, but she still wasn't adjusted to her old routine. Just when she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in work, her concentration was shot.
The abrupt ending to her relationship with Andre had been playing havoc with her emotions since the moment she realized he wasn't coming back to the hotel. She'd barely slept that night, not at all on the plane and when she'd arrived home, her stubborn heart had insisted she try to contact him. She'd called his bank in Milan, where he said he lived most of the year. The receptionist hadn't been willing to put her call through to his private voice mail. When Bethany asked to leave a message, she was informed Andre had flown to New York and was not expected to return for some time.
Obviously something had come up business-wise, but the way he'd left without a word made it clear she meant nothing to him. She'd been so sure it was more than mind blowing sex; that they were meant to be together. She'd been wrong.
It was over.
Bethany swiped at angry tears, refusing to allow the emotional pain burgeoning inside her to take over. She should have learned from her first marriage that gorgeous playboy types couldn't be trusted. She was telling herself that she was better off without him and having a miserable time believing it when the front receptionist buzzed to say Bethany's next appointment had arrived.
She took a deep breath and prepared to meet the young couple buying their first home. She'd gotten more than pain from her time with Andre, she reminded herself. She'd learned she was capable of incredible passion. So, she'd accomplished what she set out to do with her trip to Italy. If it had come at a price she had not been prepared to pay, she had no choice but to soldier on and accept the bad with the good.
It was late in the day when the phone on her desk rang. She picked it up. "Bethany Hayden speaking."
"Bethany."
No. It wasn't possible, not after a week of complete silence. "Andre?"
"Sì. Bethany, it is so good to hear your voice."
Right. She wasn't falling for any of his practiced lines this time. "Are you still in New York?"
"You know about my trip?"
"The receptionist at your bank told me when I called trying to find you."
"This is good. I am surprised. Our policy of confidentiality is strict, but I am very glad she ignored it in this instance. When my assistant took all my things without leaving a note, I was sure you would be hurt. How could you think anything but the worst in such a scenario?"
"You're right. How could I?"
"But now you understand."
Apparently he hadn't figured out yet that understanding and accepting were not the same things. She'd understood her husband's serial infidelity — Kurt had been a man incapable of faithfulness — but she had not accepted it. "Why did you bother tracking me down?"
"Surely you know. I wish you to join me in New York."
"I don't think so."
"I will send my jet for you. You need not worry about procuring an airline ticket."
"I'm not coming to New York in your plane or anyone else's."
"You refuse to come? At all?" He sounded shocked by her denial, bewildered even.
As well he might be. Apparently, he thought she was a real push over. She may have been once, but she was through being stupid and she'd had an entire week shoring up her defenses. Even so, the sound of his voice was detrimental to her recovery and she had to cut this call short. That or she was going to do something unforgivably idiotic, like agree to be his convenient mistress and offer to fly to New York as soon as his jet could arrive.
"Look, Andre, it was fun while it lasted, but it's over now. I'm not interested in having a repeat of Rome."
"You do not wish to continue our relationship?"
She wouldn't call it a relationship, not with him looking for nothing more than uncommitted sex and walking away whenever he wanted. "No, I don't."
"Bethany, I could not help leaving you. I was needed here."
"I'm sure you were." He was an important man, but she couldn't stand being with him if she wasn't as essential to him as he was to her.
"I had thought you would understand." His voice had grown husky with tiredness, as if the conversation had taken his last bit of energy.
He must be working very hard.
She squashed the thought that bordered on concern and said, "You were wrong."
"I see that."
"Was there anything else?"
"No, nothing else."
The phone clicked in her ear as tears burned a path down her cheeks.
Andre hung up the phone, a sense of desolation destroying the joy he had felt upon discovering the extremely expensive international detective agency he had hired had found Bethany. Even his relief Rico had woken from his coma was muted by his despair at learning he had been wrong about Bethany, that he had lost her. She'd told him she was looking for confirmation of her feminine power. He'd given it to her and now she wanted nothing to do with him.
How could he have been so mistaken about a woman? Could her compassion truly be so lacking?
After days without adequate sleep, he did not have the mental energy to grapple with the problem. He had enough to worry about without allowing his personal emotions to take precedence. Rico had woken paralyzed from the waist down. The doctors were hopeful he would walk again, Gianna was certain of it, but Andre's optimism was tempered by concern for his brother he did his best to hide.
Andre could not afford to dwell on his loss or it would cripple him, leaving him useless to both his brother and the bank he had to run while Rico tried to get better.
Bethany picked up the magazine in the doctor's office while she waited to be called in to hear her test results. She knew what the doctor would say, however. Her body's symptoms were unmistakable and home pregnancy tests were 98% accurate nowadays. She was carrying Andre's baby.
He had used a condom each and every time they made love, but he'd still managed to plant his child inside her. All birth control had a risk factor, but she'd thought a condom had to break before it didn't work. Remember some of the ways he'd pleasured her, she could maybe see how it had happened, but how would Andre react to hearing he was going to be a father? For she had to tell him, and a tiny part of her rejoiced at the excuse to see him again.
She stared unseeingly at the magazine in her lap, her feelings a conflagration inside her. She'd spent five weeks wondering if she'd been more of a fool to trust Andre in the first place or to refuse to see him again and hear why he'd left her without a word. The longer she'd thought about it, the more convinced she became that it was the latter.
She'd given up too quickly on their relationship and it had taken her several days to face the fact that she'd done so out of fear rather than necessity. She'd been afraid of the overwhelming feelings she had for Andre. Kurt had hurt her so much, but she hadn't felt one tenth the emotional connection to him that she'd felt to Andre after their first night together.
She sighed and went to flip the magazine shut when a face on the page caught her attention. It looked like Andre, but it wasn't. Was it? The caption read, Banking Tycoon Rico di Rinaldo Rocks the Financial Community When an Accident Leaves him Paralyzed. The article said he'd been hit by a car while preventing a mugging and spent five days in a coma. The date of his accident was the same one Andre had left her.
Nausea made her stomach cramp as she read about the man's fight for his life, his paralysis and the necessity of his younger brother taking on additional duties with the bank while Rico went through physical therapy. Andre had needed her and she had refused to go to him. She jumped up and rushed to the bathroom, making it just in time to be sick in the sink.
Bethany's nerves were like shattered glass as she walked up to the receptionist desk in the main branch of the Rinaldi bank. She'd checked into a hotel after the long flight over, but she'd taken minimal time to freshen up before taking a taxi to the financial district in Milan.
She could not believe she was back in Italy. When she left Rome seven weeks before, she'd been hurting so much, she had thought she never wanted to come back. She was hurting now, but not for herself. Compassion for Andre and what he must have gone through tormented her.
She had come to apologize and tell him she was pregnant with his child. What he did after that would be his call. She had to see him, but she was terrified he would reject her as coldly as she had dismissed him.
When she gave the receptionist her name, the other woman looked at her with speculation as she rang Andre's assistant. She spoke in rapid Italian and then hung up the phone. "Signor Mercado will be here shortly to escort you to Signor di Rinaldi's office."
Bethany couldn't believe how easy it was to get through this time when before, the woman hadn't even been willing to give her Andre's voicemail. Maybe it was a different receptionist.
A young man wearing a business suit and a grim expression touched her shoulder less than five minutes later. "Miss Hayden?"
"Yes."
"Signor di Rinaldi said he would see you in his office."
"He knows I'm here?"
"Yes." Now, even the man's tone was grim. "Follow me, please."
She did, her heart beating her to death on the long elevator ride to the top floor. Andre was on the phone when she was led into his office, a huge room beautifully decorated with dark woods and classic artwork on the walls. She bit her lip, looking around. His life was so far removed from hers and yet they had connected as if none of the trappings mattered. Would he remember that, or only her fear-induced cruelty?
He hung the phone up and stood. "Bethany. Has your mother bought you another trip to Italy?"
She shook her head, her thirsty heart drinking in the sight of him with great gulps. "I came because I had to see you."
"The last time we spoke, you made it clear you did not wish to see me again."
"I was wrong." Her throat closed on tears she couldn't bear to shed in front of him and she had to breathe deeply for several seconds before she could talk again without exposing him to the burden of her pain. "I'm so sorry. I was stupid and I'll understand if you never want to see me again, but I love you and I need you and I'll spend the rest of my life making up for letting you down if you'll just give me one more chance."
His expression rock-like, he didn't say anything.
"I didn't know," she explained in a choking voice, "about your brother. I thought you'd gone to New York on business and left me behind without a word. When you told me your assistant hadn't left a note, I thought I wasn't important enough for you to deal with personally. It hurt." She paused, gathering her thoughts, trying not to go off on a tangent. "I know if I'd trusted you then, I could have avoided a lot of pain for both of us, but you already had such a hold on my heart. I thought if I saw you again, gave you a bigger one, you could destroy me with what I thought was your indifference."
She searched his face for a clue to what he was thinking, but he didn't so much as blink. "Andre?"
His jaw tautened, but he didn't say anything and she dropped her head in despair. How could she tell him about the baby now? Maybe she should just write to him. It wasn't exactly news he was going to rejoice in and she wasn't sure she could deal with seeing the horror in his expression when he realized she carried his child. She turned to go.
"You did not know about Rico?"
She stopped halfway across the carpet. "No."
"It was in the papers." He was right behind her now, though she hadn't heard him move.
"I don't read the papers."
"When did you find out?"
"Three days ago."
"You came very quickly."
"But still too late."
His hand cupped her shoulder and he turned her toward him. "Too late for what?"
She looked up at him, her love almost suffocating her with its strength. "To be there for you when you needed me."
"I always need you."
She couldn't have heard right.
"You said you loved me." His eyes bore into hers as if testing the truth of the words.
Unable to believe she was allowed to touch him, her hands came up to clutch at his shirt. "I do love you, so much it scares me."
"And this fear made you turn me away?"
She couldn't fight the tears any longer. Relief and hope flowed through her in too powerful a wave. "Yes."
"We had little time together, not enough to cement what we meant to each other."
She swallowed and nodded, unable to speak past the lump of emotion choking her.
"I love you also, mi amorino."
"Even after I rejected you?"
His lips answered her and she'd been so starved for the feel of him that she went up in flames with that one kiss. She discovered he had a small apartment accessible through the back of his office when he took her there and made love to her with a hungry desperation that mirrored her own.
She snuggled into his warm, hard body afterward, so happy she was almost sick with it. He had forgiven her. He loved her. He would be happy about the baby. She was sure of it.
"This time we marry as soon as possible. No more misunderstandings."
"I would like that very much, but there is something I have to tell you." She brushed his hairy chest, her fingers tingling with joy at the ability to do so.
He tilted her chin upward. "You are nervous. What is it?"
She swallowed. What if he didn't trust her like she hadn't trusted him? What if he thought the baby wasn't his? What if he thought she'd done it on purpose? Refusing to let the terrifying possibilities intimidate her, she took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."
He went so still, she wasn't sure he was even breathing. "Prego?"
"I'm carrying your child."
"This is why you came back to me?"
She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she shook her head. "No. I mean, yes." She didn't want to lie to him, even by omission. "I was planning to come when I realized I was pregnant, but once I found out about your brother, nothing could have kept me away even if I hadn't been. In fact, if I'd known how to get a hold of you in New York, I doubt I could have stayed away regardless. I needed you, Andre, and it was killing me by inches to stay away."
"The separation, it was killing me also." He looked down at her still flat stomach and touched it with reverence. "Mi bambino rests here."
"Are you glad?"
He looked at her and the joy shining in his dark eyes was so intense it brought tears to her own. "Can you doubt it?"
"I love you, Andre. Always."
"I love you, my Bethany, until they lay me in my grave."
They were married in a small, secret ceremony a week later, but when Andre's family found out about it, his mother insisted they have a double blessing with Rico and his wife, Gianna. Signora di Rinaldi even sent all the way to Greece for a mantilla that matched Gianna's for Bethany to wear. Bethany's parents flew over for the ceremony and the celebration lasted late into the night after both brides announced their pregnancies.
Gianna and Bethany agreed the di Rinaldi men made excellent husbands because they were so easy to love and so very good at loving in return.
The End