Learning to Trust (22 page)

Lina hardly had time to notice her surroundings before Jon carried her through to the bedroom of their villa in Tahiti and laid her down on the bed. She wore her wedding dress, a floaty creation of light ivory silk that Jon hadn’t stopped touching since he saw her in it. He’d slid his hand down the length of her spine to her waist, held her against him, and only separated from her for the time it took them to promise to love and honor each other forever.

After a few toasts, they’d left their guests and run back here, but Jon insisted on carrying her over the threshold. Lina had the sneaking suspicion that he’d do it again when they got back home, to his apartment in New York. But that wouldn’t be for a while yet. Because of the problems, he’d arranged to extend their honeymoon. A month to enjoy each other, loving and thinking of nothing else but their happiness. Starting now.

Jon stepped back and admired her. When she would have sat up, he forestalled her. “No. I want to look at you.”

“Then give me something to look at.” She smiled at him, and slid her hand suggestively down her side.

He moved to the bottom of the bed and picked up a remote. When he pushed a button, the drapes slid away, revealing their private pool and a lake beyond. It currently glittered fire, the effect of a truly spectacular sunset. The whole wall was glass.

“So beautiful,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Yes.” But he wasn’t looking at the sunset. He was looking at her.

Keeping her gaze on his, her hands went to the front of her gown, where small pearl buttons teased with their torturous fastening. But she knew a secret he did not, and after the first three buttons, she pulled the studs apart.

He gasped. Underneath she wore an almost virginal bra and panty set in ivory silk to match the gown, but the silk was so thin he’d be able to see the rosy nipples and the shadow of her pubic hair.

If she’d left any pubic hair, that was.

She wriggled, feeling the moistness between her legs, squirming to give herself a little release. The last few hours had proved a long session of arousal. Knowing what was to come, reading the desire in his eyes, she’d been dying for this moment. She wanted to rip all her clothes off, and his, and cram his cock into her. But she also wanted to take it slow, make it last.

She opened her legs, despite her need for stimulation and murmured, “Take off your clothes. Now.”

His answer sounded like a low growl, and it reverberated through her body. He obeyed her, stripping off the linen jacket and pants and his light silk shirt, kicking off his sandals. He was all she ever wanted to look at, wide-shouldered, aggressively masculine, heavily aroused. And hers.

He came down on her before she could remove her underwear and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with a possession she couldn’t deny. Didn’t want to. He pulled away and kissed her throat, then nipped her breast, making her gasp in response, before he flicked open the front fastening of her bra and devoured her. Sucking one nipple into his mouth, he cupped the other in one strong, hot hand, manipulating the nipple, twisting it and pinching it in the way he knew she loved.

When he had her arching her back and thrusting her breast into his mouth, he pulled away, grinning down at her in a feral baring of teeth that had her squirming. “I adore you. I’ll never get enough of you.”

He shoved her panties down and she kicked them away, guessing that she wouldn’t need them again for, oh, a week or two at the least. His hot gaze seared her, made her moan and he dipped his head down to taste her. He licked her as if she were a gourmet treat, and then took her clit into his mouth and sucked.

She leaned up on her elbows, watching him as he savored her, loving his abandon, loving her response. Loving him. She couldn’t hold out much longer. Waves of sensation flowed through her, getting stronger all the time, and then he opened his eyes and watched her. That was enough. With a cry she came, her pussy throbbing in time with his suckling.

He drew away, his mouth wet with her juices and she came to him. Quickly sitting upright, he reached for her and gathered her in so that she straddled him. She reached for his cock and, watching him all the while, without words, she guided it into her body, where he belonged.

“My love,” he breathed. “
Mi adorata.
”

“Darling.” He filled her completely, and as she began to move, she heard his words of love and returned them with her own. When she kissed him, she tasted herself on him. It drove her higher, as did the wet sounds of their bodies coming together. His dancing skills might be lacking but when it came to the bedroom, he was a master.

They came together in an explosion of bliss, face-to-face. Equals in love.

Lina trailed her finger down the center of Jon’s chest. Her new wedding ring glimmered in the golden light of sunset, the domed stone of her engagement ring revealing mysterious depths. He shuddered and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips.

She grinned. “You can’t want me again already.” He was laid out on the huge white-sheeted bed like a human sacrifice, exhausted after their first bout of married lovemaking. And the first time they’d done it bareback. The delay to their marriage plans meant she could go on the pill, in preparation. Although he said he wanted to do this, his acceptance of her word that she was clean humbled her. She’d had the health check anyway, but he’d refused to look at it.

It had been worth it. She contained him now, his seed. One day they’d do it in order to make a child, but they wanted to settle into married life first. They had time. All the time they wanted, now that they’d found each other.

Maybe he wasn’t so exhausted. She glanced at his cock. Already it had reached a semierect state. “Good recovery.”

He groaned. “I’m catching it up. You know I love you, don’t you?”

“So you tell me.” She smiled at him, meeting his eyes for that fleeting moment of intimacy she knew would be a hallmark of their relationship for the rest of their lives. And instead of feeling trapped, she felt gloriously free. “And I love you.”

“Was it worth the wait? Tahiti instead of Las Vegas?”

She thought of the wonderful ceremony earlier today, the silvery sands, the palm trees, the sheer happiness of the few people invited to witness their union. “Every minute. I’ll remember that, always. And the way you looked at me when you said, ‘I do.’ I thought I’d melt on the spot.”

His mouth quirked in another smile. “You made me wait. After a week without sharing a bed, I was ready to explode. So don’t expect to get away lightly. Or get out of this bed for a while.”

Since they were ensconced in a luxury villa, in a room with a wall of window, currently open to allow in the breezes from the sea outside, she didn’t think that would be much of a hardship. “If we get out, we’ll bump into paparazzi. We can’t escape the media forever.”

He sighed and sat up, reaching for the remote on the side table. “You’re right. And maybe we should eat. We’ll be fine in the resort, but I’ll call them and tell them to watch for helicopters.”

She stroked a hand down his back as he leaned forward, feeling the bumps on his spine under her palm. “You made some calls earlier, while I was in the shower. Don’t think I don’t know it.”

He turned around, smiling wryly. “I’ve talked with Gary. I asked him to keep an eye on Franco.”

“Franco! Will he be okay?”

“I have people watching him and his family, darling. He’ll be fine, I promise.” He stroked her hair. She’d never known comfort like this, never had anyone to rely on before. And it felt so good.

His cell phone, currently resting on the bedside table, chimed. He released her enough to pick it up and check the text. He showed her. It came from an unknown number and it read, “It ends here.
Tregua.
” He cocked an inquiring brow at Lina.

“It’s an Italian word for truce,” she said. “I’ve seen it before, in Naples. It means unless we retaliate, they’ll consider the matter closed.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Okay.” And she did. Sorry for what could have been with her own mother, she vowed to make her own children happy. “I thought—”

“Our children won’t have to face that.”

Startled that he voiced just what she was about to say, she looked up and met his gaze. Filled with perfect understanding. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “I swear it,” he said huskily.

“So do I,” she said. “We’ll learn and go on. Together.”

He tossed his cell phone aside. “That can wait. I can’t.”

She recognized the kindling desire in his eyes before he pushed her back against the pillows.

Lynne Connolly lives in England with her family and her mews, a cat called Jack, who helps her write her books by sleeping on her keyboard. Lynne writes romantic suspense, paranormal romance, historical romance and contemporary romance for a number of publishers, and can’t stop thinking up stories. So far she’s had forty books published, and counting. She’s won two EPPIE Awards in her career, and is a reader on the RNA New Writers’ Scheme.

She loves visiting the places she writes about, and tries to get to the U.S. at least once a year.

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