Then he was kissing her, plumbing her depths with wrenching possession, as if he’d drink her up, gulping down her moans as they poured from her, growling the fervor of his endearments and enjoyment inside her.
“Meravigliosa, deliziosa…”
Her stomach made another explicit protest.
He pulled back, his eyes on fire, his smile teasing. “So the flesh is willing, but the stomach is even more so. Will you stop looking so delicious so I can feed you?”
Unable to do anything but keep her head against his shoulder and her body ensconced in the security and delight of his, she sighed. “So, it’s my doing now?”
“Everything is your doing,
gloriosa mia.
Everything.”
For all the indulgence in which he’d said that, it confused her. For it didn’t feel like a joke. Yet all she could do was surrender to his pampering and marvel at what a difference a few hours could make. She’d started this bent on resisting to the end. Now look at her. Her mind was shutting down, her will raising the white flag. And why not?
This, whatever this was, wouldn’t last. But she knew that this time. She’d been forewarned, should be forearmed against any pain and disillusion. And it felt so good. The best she’d ever felt. Why not just revel in it?
Even at the cost of untold damages later? Maybe it couldn’t be survived this time?
She gazed into his gorgeous eyes, let his spell topple the last pillar of her sanity, and had to face what she’d never wanted to admit. She’d missed him like she would a vital organ. The accumulated longing was only exacerbated by the new appreciation that was taking her over.
So yes. She’d take this journey with him. At any cost.
*
“We’ll be landing in minutes,
Principe.
”
The announcement made Glory do a triple take over Vincenzo’s shoulder at the wall clock in the distance.
It was nine hours since they’d come on board already?
Time had never flown so imperceptibly. So pleasurably. She hadn’t felt sleepy all through the flight, only deliciously languorous yet energized at once, each passing minute electrified, alive.
And here they were. Landing in a place she’d never been, and till forty-eight hours ago had thought, for too many reasons, she’d never be. His homeland. A land of vivid legend and unique tradition.
Castaldini.
She’d been so engrossed in Vincenzo and their newfound affinity she hadn’t once looked outside the window as the pilot had periodically announced the landmarks they were flying over. She was now draped half over Vincenzo, one leg held in a possessive hand over his thighs, her face inches from his as they lay back on a now-reclined couch, gazing at each other, luxuriating in chatting and bickering and just relishing the hell out of each other.
Giving her thigh a gentle squeeze, he leaned in for another of those barely leashed kisses that had been scrambling her coherence, then withdrew with a regretful sigh. “Though I think some fuses inside me will burn out when I do, I have to take my hands off you. You need to see this. Castaldini from the air is breathtaking.”
He untangled them and took her with him as he sat up, opening the shutter on the window behind them. He stood behind her as she rose to her knees and bent forward to peer down at his homeland. But she registered nothing but him as he pressed against her, one hand pulling her back into his hardness, the other moving the mass of her hair aside to caress her back and buttocks. All she wanted was to thrust back at him, beg him to end the torment that had been building for hours, years, plunge inside her as she knelt like that, vulnerable, open. She wished he would plummet them into delirium as they descended into his domain and the limited time they’d have together.
He bent over her until he was covering her back then suckled her earlobe, pouring his seduction right into her brain. “See this,
gloriosa mia?
This is where I’m going to make you mine again, this land that’s as glorious as you are.”
Everything inside her throbbed like an inflamed nerve, screaming for his invasion, his domination. “So you took your hands off me, only to substitute them with your whole body.”
“Don’t tell me, tell your body.” His hand twisted in her hair, harnessing her as he suckled her neck, thrust against her, mimicking the act of possession. “It’s operating mine remotely. It must want to keep my fuses intact, needs them fully functional.” She was way past contesting this. With the way she’d been responding to his every touch, inviting more, she wondered how he hadn’t taken her yet. Or why. He nipped her jaw, which sent another shock wave of need spasming in her core. “Now look.”
It took moments to focus on the sight beneath her through the crimson haze of arousal. The place where she would come to life again, in his arms, in his orbit, however briefly.
And it was as he’d said. Breathtaking. Glorious.
The island gleamed like a collection of multifaceted jewels in the early afternoon sun. Jade masses of palm and olive trees, ruby and garnet rooftops on amber and moonstone houses, obsidian roads. White-gold beaches surrounded everything and were hugged in turn by the gradations of a turquoise-and-emerald Mediterranean.
Her chest tightening with elusive longing, she turned amazed eyes to him. “How can you leave this place, and stay away so long?”
Relief flared in his eyes, as if he’d been worried about her response. As if she could feel anything but wonder at beholding this magnificence.
“Wait until you see it at ground level.” He turned her around, sat both of them down, buckled them in and brought her hands to his lips with a contemplative sigh. “But you’re right. I was here too little for too many years.”
“And now you’re taking the UN post, you’re going to be anywhere but here.” And they wouldn’t be here for their year of marriage.
As if feeling her disappointment, he shook his head. “We’ll come here often and stay as long as possible each time. We can stay for a good while now. Would you like that?”
Vincenzo was asking her if she’d like to stay? When he hadn’t bothered to ask if she’d like to come in the first place? Was that part of his “put her at ease” campaign?
If it was, it was succeeding. Spectacularly.
She melted back, luxuriating in his solicitude, no matter its motives. She hadn’t worked up the courage to take an active part in this seduction, but having him this close made her dizzy with the need to touch and taste him. His skin made her drool, polished as bronze, soft as satin. And it was like that everywhere. She knew. She’d once explored him inch by inch. She couldn’t wait to binge on his flawlessness again.
But having taken the decision to give in to the insanity, she knew she’d have the mind-blowing pleasure soon. Sighing with the relief of surrender, she looked into his expectant eyes, loving the anxious expectation she saw there.
“As long as I can get a better toothbrush than the one in the jet’s welcome pack.”
Elation blazed in his eyes before he crushed her lips in an assuaging yet distressing kiss, groaning inside her. “Next time we’re here, or on my jet—yes, I have only one—we’re going to do our dueling and eating and bantering in bed. I hope you know what it cost me to not take you there this time.”
“Because it’s your king and queen’s bed?”
“
Bellissima,
I’ll have to refresh your memory that when it comes to taking you, I don’t care where we are.”
As if she needed her memory refreshed. She’d spent years wishing it erased. He’d once taken her at work, in the park, in his car, everywhere—the only uncharacteristic rule breaking he’d done back then. But…
“Then why didn’t you?”
Winding a thick lock of her hair around his hand, he tugged her closer, whispered against her cheek, “Because I want to wait. For the ring. For our wedding night.”
*
After that she had no idea what she said or what happened. Agitated all over again at being hit with the reality of what she was doing, she functioned on auto as they landed in what must have been the royal airport and disembarked.
A Mercedes was awaiting them at the bottom of the stairs. The driver saluted Vincenzo with a deep bow, gave him the key then rushed to another car. Then Vincenzo was driving them out of the airport on a road that ran by the shore.
She gazed dazedly at the picturesque scenery as the powerful car sped on the smoothest black asphalt road she’d ever been on. She didn’t ask where they were going. Now that she’d given up resisting, she wanted him to surprise her, and she had no doubt he’d keep doing that. This time she’d enjoy it. Having no expectations, knowing the worst was to come, freed her, allowing her to live in the moment.
For someone who worried every single second she was awake, and most of the moments she slept, too, it was an unknown sensation. Like free fall. And she was loving it more by the second.
Vincenzo bantered with her nonstop, acting the perfect tour guide, pointing out landmarks and telling her stories about each part of the island. He said he’d take her to Jawara, the capital, and the royal palace, later. For now, he wanted to show her something else.
Letting the magic of this land with its balmy weather and brilliant skies seep through her, she soaked up his information and consideration. Then coming around a hill, in the distance there was…
She sat up straight, her heart hammering.
This…this was his home. His ancestral home.
She’d researched this place in her greed to find out everything about him. She’d read sonnets about it, written by Moorish poets, sonnets about the princes who inhabited it, and defended and ruled the countryside at its feet. Back when she’d thought she’d meant something to him, she’d ached for the time he’d take her there, as he’d promised.
Now she knew she meant nothing to him, and he hadn’t promised anything, and yet he’d just taken her there.
Life was truly incomprehensible.
Photos had conveyed a complex of buildings overlooking a tranquil sea with gorgeous surrounding nature. But its reality was way more. Layer upon layer of natural and man-made wonders stretched as far as her vision did, drenched in the Mediterranean sun and canopied by its brilliant skies.
The centerpiece of the vista was a citadel complex that crouched high on a rocky if verdant hill like something out of a fantasy. At its foothills spread a countryside so lush and a town so untouched by modernity, she felt as if they were traveling through time as they approached.
The complex sprawled on multiple levels over the rugged site, the land around it teeming with wildflowers, orange trees and elms. As they approached, Vincenzo folded back the roof so she could hear the resident mockingbirds filling the afternoon with songs. He told her they were welcoming her.
Then they were crossing an honest-to-goodness moat, and she did feel she’d crossed into a different era.
Driving through huge wooden gates, Vincenzo drove around a mosaic-and-marble fountain in a truly expansive cobblestone courtyard, parking before the central tower. He hopped out without opening his door and ran around to scoop her into his arms without opening hers.
Giggling at his boyish playfulness, she glanced around embarrassedly at the dozens of people coming and going, no doubt the caretakers of his castle, all with their gazes and grins glued on her and Vincenzo.
He climbed the ancient stone steps with her protesting that she was too heavy all the way. By the time they arrived at a stone terrace at the top, he’d proved she wasn’t, for him. He was barely breathing faster. He’d always been fit. But he must have upped his exercise regimen. She couldn’t wait to test his boosted stamina….
The moment he put her down on her feet, she rushed across the terrace and came up against the three-foot-high balustrade looking over the incredible vista that sprawled to the horizon. Well-being surged through her in crashing waves, making her stand on tiptoe, arch her back and open her arms wide as if to encompass the beauty around her.
Vincenzo came up behind her, stopping less than a whisper away, creating a field of screaming sensuality between them, his lips blazing a path of destruction from her temple to the swell of her breasts. By the time he took the same path back up, she was ready to beg for his touch.
She didn’t have to. He finally pulled her against him, arms crisscrossing beneath breasts that felt swollen and heavy. His murmur thrummed inside her in a path that connected her heart and core, melting both. “
Dea divina mia,
my divine goddess, now I know what this place lacked in my eyes. Your beauty gracing it. I won’t be able to think of this place again except as a backdrop to showcase and worship you.”
That was…extravagant. When had he learned to talk like that? With the women who flowed in and out of his bed?
A fist squeezed her heart dry of beats.
Steady.
She had no right to feel despondent or disillusioned. Vincenzo wasn’t hers. He never had been.
But the thought still didn’t sit right. Those women had always seemed as if they’d been there to serve his purpose. She couldn’t see him serenading them. So where did the poetry come from? Why was he so free with it? She’d already promised him the pretense
and
the passion.
So was he only going all-out to make her feel better about both?
Yeah. That had to be it.
But he’d said his passion had always been real. Whatever his reasons for his past cruelty, it didn’t matter. For now, she could have heaven.
“If you think I add to the scenery that much, I’ll pose for a photo shoot if you ever need to put the place up for sale. I can see the ad with the title ‘Property in Paradise.’” She turned in his arms. “But seriously, now I’ve seen it up close, I’m wondering how you don’t live here most of the time.”
“Maybe now I will.” His tone remained that tempting burr. But she felt it. An earnestness. A query. One he couldn’t be asking. This was a fake marriage, with a nonexistent future. He wouldn’t be considering her or soliciting her endorsement before he made plans for his own future.
Ignoring a pang of regret, she pretended she didn’t hear the subtext in his comment. There was probably none, anyway.