One Christmas Night In...

Lily felt warmth enter her cheeks as she recognised that casual endearment—cara was the Italian equivalent of the English ‘dear’, wasn’t it? Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had imbibed a little too much of that delicious red wine?

Was her imagination playing tricks on her, or had Dmitri just said the best ice cream in the world was a short walk away? Why would he have said that if she was supposed to be his prisoner? ‘Are you suggesting that we go outside for a walk?’

Dmitri winced slightly. ‘You really do consider yourself a prisoner here, don’t you?’

‘Maybe that’s because I am?’ Lily said bluntly.

‘I had not—’ Dmitri stopped, and then took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps I was a little heavy-handed with you earlier.’

‘Perhaps?’ she said incredulously.

Dmitri continued to look across at her for several long minutes, appreciative of the things she had revealed about herself as they’d chatted over dinner—things that she was not perhaps even aware of. Such as the fact that she had obviously taken her role as the eldest of the twins very seriously since the death of her parents. That she had not taken a holiday in several years, and even then it had been in England. That she missed her brother very much. And, most importantly of all, perhaps, that this holiday in Italy was unexpected and something she could ill afford on a teacher’s salary.

She had been looking forward to it with excited anticipation. Only to arrive in Rome and find herself then incarcerated without having seen her brother or a single one of the historic attractions she had obviously so looked forward to exploring.

Because Dmitri had decreed it should be so. Because, out of concern for his sister and anger towards Felix, he had decided to punish the only person who was available to him.

‘There is no question of it. I was unreasonable with you on your arrival in Rome,’ he acknowledged heavily.

Lily’s eyes widened. ‘Are you sure this isn’t just the wine talking?’

Those sculptured lips curved into a teasing smile. ‘Wine is like mother’s milk to an Italian, Lily.’

‘Really?’ His lips on a woman’s breast was an image that did absolutely nothing for Lily’s earlier resolve to stop her imagination running away with her—and not just any woman’s breast, either, but her own.

Okay, it was definitely time she excused herself and went to bed!

Past time, if her fantasies about this man were going to become so explicit she had actually felt a sharp spike of arousal—from the tingling of her breasts to the rapidly increasing dampness between her thighs …

‘Where would you like to go?’ Dmitri asked.

Bed probably wasn’t the answer she should give right now! ‘In all the guidebooks I read it said that the Trevi Fountain is particularly spectacular at night.’

‘It is,’ he confirmed, rising to his feet and coming around the table with the obvious intention of pulling her chair back for her. ‘And, luckily for us, the best ice cream in Rome is just around the corner from it.’

She looked up at him uncertainly. ‘At this time of night?’

‘Of course. Roma is a city that never sleeps, Lily.’

‘Like New York?’

Dmitri shook his head. ‘In my experience New York is frenetic and Roma is romantic,’ he corrected.

Oh, yes—a romantic walk in the moonlight with this devastatingly handsome man was just what she needed when her defences already felt like mush!

‘Why have you suddenly become so … accommodating, Dmitri?’ she asked awkwardly.

Those pale green eyes darkened with what looked like regret. ‘Perhaps because I now realise exactly how … unaccommodating I have been up till now?’

Lily stood up slowly, not sure that she altogether trusted Dmitri in this relaxed and charming mood. Definitely not sure she trusted herself in his company when he was in this almost playful mood!

Much as she welcomed the possibility of leaving the palazzo, if only for a short time, this collapse of her defences surely made it a recipe for disaster? Moonlight. Delicious ice cream. The Trevi Fountain. Dmitri Scarletti. Most especially the latter …

She turned, with the intention of telling him that it had been a long day and she thought it better if she went to bed now, only to tense as she realised how close he was now standing. He made no effort to step away from the back of her chair. So close Lily could once again feel the heat emanating from his body. Smell the aftershave that mingled so appealingly with hot, virile male. And see the dark shadow of stubble once more on his chin.

She could actually see the way the iris of his eyes had once again darkened to emerald as his gaze became fixed, apparently captivated by her slightly parted lips …

She couldn’t breathe, and was pretty sure she couldn’t have moved even if someone had shouted Fire! In fact, she felt unable to break away from his compelling gaze, her body actually starting to tremble as Dmitri continued to look deeply into her eyes.

Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed. ‘It’s pretty late, Dmitri—’ Lily didn’t get any further in excusing herself as his arm moved firmly about her waist and he pulled her in close against him.

‘You’re right, Lily.’ His voice was a low, husky growl. ‘I am afraid it is far too late.’

His head moved down slowly and he captured her mouth with his own.

Lily heard herself groan low in her throat as his skilful lips opened hers, sipping, tasting, his tongue hot and demanding, while his arms tightened about her, crushing her breasts against the hard muscles of his chest. His hands moved down the slope of her back to cup her bottom and pull her in hard against him, and her legs began to tremble as she felt the pulsing evidence of his arousal against the softness of her stomach.

Her fingers dug into his broad shoulders as his mouth moved to trace the long column of her throat, his lips hot against her skin as she arched her neck to allow him freer access. Her legs felt so shaky now she was afraid that if she didn’t cling on to him she might actually collapse at his feet.

She was being bombarded with sensations. Her senses were assaulted by his heat and overpowering strength, and at the same time she wanted to push even the thin barrier of his shirt out of her way, so that she could touch the skin beneath. Not just touch. But caress. Kiss. Taste. God, how badly she wanted to taste him—all of him.

What was Dmitri doing to her? How was he doing it to her?

She didn’t behave like this. Had never felt like this with any of the men she had dated over the past ten years. She’d never wanted to rip anyone’s clothes off before throwing off her own clothes and begging him to take her. Right here. On the table. Amongst the debris of their meal.

Dmitri could be her dessert! Lily instinctively knew he would taste rich and creamy and totally decadent. Sinful, in fact …

Not giving herself time to think, to regret, she unfastened the buttons on his shirt, her breathing ragged, fevered as she pulled it apart and gazed hungrily at his bared muscled chest before touching him tentatively, her fingers a light caress. He gave a low groan as she explored, touching him where he was most sensitive, holding his fevered gaze with her own as she ran the soft pad of her thumb experimentally across his skin and saw for herself the effect it had on Dmitri. His eyes glittered, and there was a slight flush now to those sculptured cheekbones.

‘Lily … ?’ Dmitri hadn’t planned on kissing her, let alone having her touch him like this.

He had been totally aware of her throughout their meal. Her smile. Her wistfulness. Her occasional sadness. A sadness he had longed to dispel. He had felt himself unwillingly drawn to her. To her beauty. Her heat. The musk of her arousal beneath the soft floral of the perfume she wore. And now that he had tasted the fullness of her lips, he wanted more …

‘I am not sure I can stop this, cara,’ he warned her gently, even as he rubbed the throb of his arousal against her yielding softness.

She seemed not to hear him as she lowered her head and placed her lips against his skin, her tongue feeling like the rasp of a cat’s against his sensitised flesh, sending shock-waves of pleasure straight to the pulsing hardness of his shaft.

Dmitri buried his face in her throat as he surged hard and demanding against her, his hands tightly gripping her bottom now.

It was a perfect fit in his hands, just as he had imagined it would be, and he lifted her up until he felt himself nestled against the heat between her legs. He heard her soft groan as he began to move against her most sensitive part.

Dmitri cursed the layers of material that separated them, knowing that if they weren’t there he would not be able to stop himself from burying himself inside her, as deep as he could go, and that once he had entered her heat he really would lose all control.

He lifted Lily to sit on the tabletop and his hands moved to the bottom of her sweater. He slowly lifted the woollen garment and his gaze became riveted on the fullness of her breasts, cupped in black lace, the nipples hard and deeply rose against that wispy material.

He wanted to taste them—needed to taste them—to take those rosy buds into his mouth and—

Too impatient to waste time locating the fastening of her bra, Dmitri simply pulled the lace down until the nipples popped over the top of those silky cups, full and hard and surrounded by darkly flushed areolae.

Lily gasped as he stepped in between her parted legs, his arousal a pulsing caress against her even through their clothes, his hair a silky brush against her skin as he lowered his head to her breast. Her initial gasp turned to a whimper, and her fingers dug into his shoulders as his lips fastened onto her nipple and he began to suck. Softly at first, and then harder, drawing her hungrily into his mouth. Her fingers became entangled in the thick darkness of his hair as she held him to her, lost in the pleasure that coursed through her body.

There was a soft sound as his lips released her breast. One of his hands was now cupping her there, clever fingers capturing the swollen nipple before pulling gently, rhythmically, as he turned the attention of his mouth to her other breast. The soft rasp of his tongue across the nipple, and the caress of his fingers against its twin caused a trembling through her body that seemed to begin at her toes and fingers and slowly work its way upwards and inwards, until it became centralised in a low, demanding throb between her thighs. Wave after wave of heated pleasure was building, ever building, until Lily felt as if she might shatter into a million pieces.

‘Touch me, Lily!’ Dmitri released her nipple to groan, the heat of his breath a tantalising caress against the dampness of her flesh. ‘Dio mio, Lily, I need your hands on me …’ he entreated, as he took one of her hands and placed it on his jeans, over the hardness of him.

Lily felt it surge, pulse, as her palm pressed against him in a slow and rhythmic caress. Her own pleasure spiralled out of control as she looked down and watched as he once again drew her nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing sensually against that sensitive bud.

Just as she had imagined there was something erotic, almost primitive, in seeing his much swarthier complexion against the paleness of her skin, his lashes a dark shadow against the flush of his cheeks, his tousled hair falling across his brow.

‘What the—?’

Lily gave a protesting groan as Dmitri froze against her breast, taking several seconds to realise why. And then Lily heard it too. Mozart. Faint. But recognisably Mozart.

The ringtone she had chosen for her mobile!

It was like a having a bucket of ice cold water thrown over her. Over both of them.

Dmitri’s arms fell back to his sides and he stepped back, a dark scowl on his brow as he looked down at her with hot green eyes.

Lily suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how wanton she must look, with her legs parted to accommodate him standing between her thighs, her black sweater pushed up and her breasts bared and swollen as they spilled over the cups of her bra.

Oh, help!

Dmitri watched from between hooded lids as Lily moved hastily off the table to turn away from him and straighten her clothing. Then she quickly searched inside her shoulder bag for the ringing mobile, the heavy curtain of her silver-blond hair falling forward to hide her flushed face, still slightly tangled from the caress of Dmitri’s fingers.

What had just happened? Why had it happened?

Admittedly she was a stunningly beautiful woman, but she was also Felix Barton’s sister—the one woman in the world Dmitri should not have made love to!

He looked down at his own unbuttoned shirt, at once assailed with the memory of how Lily had pulled those buttons apart, how her bold lips had felt against his flesh. How her hands had—

‘Hello?’

Dmitri’s head came up like a predator that had just scented prey as Lily finally found her mobile and took the call. Felix! It had to be him. Who else would telephone her at this time of night?

‘Hey!’ Lily protested as the phone was plucked out of her fingers before Dmitri placed it against his own ear.

‘Dmitri!’

‘Is that you, Barton?’ He raised his other hand with the obvious intention of silencing her as he listened briefly before speaking again. ‘Who is this?’ he demanded harshly.

‘Obviously not Felix,’ Lily snapped as she retrieved her mobile. ‘Yes. Sorry about that, Danny.’ She shot Dmitri a resentful glance. ‘Oh, just a … a friend of my brother’s. No, he doesn’t sound very friendly, does he?’ She gave a forced laugh and Dmitri glowered across at her as he slowly refastened his shirt. ‘Look, can I call you back tomorrow? Things are a little hectic here right now, and … Yes, of course I’ll be sure and call you back,’ she said lightly. ‘Okay. Bye, Danny.’

A loaded silence filled the kitchen once she had ended the call and put the mobile back in her bag. She felt too stunned by what had just happened and the way her body still tingled in the aftermath of their passion to speak. She wasn’t at all sure why he was suddenly silent.

It could be any number of things. Disappointment that the call hadn’t been from Felix. Or maybe he was just disgusted by what had happened between them. Or perhaps it was a combination of the two; Lily certainly felt less than proud of her own wanton behaviour.

‘Who is Danny?’

She gave Dmitri a startled look. ‘Sorry?’

‘Who is Danny?’ he repeated through gritted teeth. Or there could be a third reason for Dmitri’s accusatory silence …

Not that Lily thought for a moment that he was in the least jealous that she had received a telephone call from another man. It was more likely that he was merely contemptuous of the fact that she had allowed him to make love to her when she obviously already had a man in her life. Except she didn’t …

‘Just a friend,’ she dismissed.

Dmitri raised sceptical brows. ‘And do your male friends usually telephone you at …’ He glanced down at the plain gold watch on his wrist ‘… ten-thirty at night when you are away on your holidays?’

‘Obviously the answer to that is yes—because one just did!’ Lily said, giving an awkward shrug.

Dmitri studied her narrowly. ‘One? How many male friends do you have?’

Lily felt the colour warm her cheeks at the derision in his tone. ‘Dozens, actually,’ she snapped.

‘I see.’ His delicious mouth thinned disapprovingly.

‘Somehow I doubt that,’ she scorned, knowing that each of them meant something entirely different by the term ‘male friends’. But she had no intention of explaining herself to this man when he looked down at her so disdainfully!

He continued that look for several long seconds before turning away. ‘If you will excuse me, I have some papers in my study I need to look through before tomorrow.’

‘I’ll just clear away in here, then, shall I?’ she retorted, not in the least surprised that their romantic stroll in the moonlight now seemed to have been forgotten; apparently they didn’t need the inducement of the moonlight to feel romantic. If that explosion of the senses could be called anything as tame as romantic …

Dmitri glanced at the table where they had just eaten dinner. And where he had just kissed Lily so passionately, so intimately …

One of the wine glasses—thankfully his own empty one—had toppled over onto the plate of cheese, and several pieces of fruit had spilled onto the table. The plates they had been using were in complete disarray.

Unbelievable!

Dmitri closed his eyes briefly to shut out the scene. Such behaviour, such loss of control, was totally out of character for him. His commitments and responsibilities did not allow for such impulsive, highly reckless behaviour. That he had behaved like that with the sister of a man he no longer trusted made his lapse doubly unacceptable to him.

He drew in a deep breath before answering. ‘That would seem only fair, as I cooked the meal.’ He quirked one dark brow in challenge.

There was no arguing with that, Lily acknowledged ruefully; Dmitri had prepared and cooked their delicious meal. So it was a pity that the pasta and garlic bread now seemed to have settled like a heavy weight in the bottom of her stomach. ‘Fine,’ she accepted curtly. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, then.’

He nodded. ‘If you would care for a swim before breakfast there is a heated pool in the east wing of the palazzo.’

The palazzo had its own heated swimming pool?

Why was Lily surprised? The place was big enough to house an indoor football pitch if Dmitri had decided he wanted one! ‘As it’s December, I didn’t bother to bring my bathing costume with me,’ Lily admitted.

‘I have no problem with you skinny dipping …’ Those pale green eyes swept over Lily from her head to the tips of her toes, before settling back on her now slightly flushed face.

‘I have a problem with it!’ Lily said firmly.

Dmitri shrugged as he walked towards the doorway out into the hallway. ‘The offer is there if you should change your mind.’

‘I won’t,’ she stated flatly. She had already behaved in a reckless way with this man, she didn’t need to ask for trouble by swimming in the nude! More trouble, that was …

Heaven only knew what Dmitri thought of her after that wanton display—if it was anything like the things Lily had been thinking about herself then it wasn’t in the least complimentary.

‘Aren’t you going to take my mobile with you this time?’ Lily couldn’t resist calling after him—and then wished she hadn’t as she realised she had just reminded him that her mobile was her only means of contacting anyone outside the palazzo.

His shoulders tensed as he paused in the doorway before turning slowly to look at her speculatively. ‘Would you tell me if you were to receive a telephone call or text from your brother?’

‘Yes, of course I’d tell you.’ Lily didn’t even have to think about her answer. She knew that beneath Dmitri’s arrogance he was genuinely worried about his sister; it would be cruel of her not to tell him if she were to hear from the eloping pair.

He nodded. ‘Then you may keep the mobile.’

‘How kind of you to allow me to!’ Lily felt stung into retaliating.

A brief but humourless smile curved his lips. ‘I thought so, yes. Goodnight, Lily.’

‘Night, Dmitri,’ she mumbled in reply, waiting until she was sure he had definitely gone before sinking slowly down onto one of the kitchen chairs, her heated cheeks buried in her hands, as she was instantly bombarded with memories of every arousing moment of being in his arms …

Forty-eight.

Dmitri continued to count the number of lengths of the pool he had swum so far as he pushed away from the side and once again struck out powerfully for the opposite end.

Forty-nine.

Neither the exercise nor the refreshingly warm water had done anything to cool his ardour from an hour ago, when he had left Lily in the kitchen and, instead of going to his study as planned, decided to take up his own suggestion of going for a swim. Secure in the knowledge, of course, that Lily had no intention of taking up the offer; having her here too, with or without a bathing costume, would certainly negate his own reasons for being here! Fifty.

Not that this deliberately punishing exercise had in the least helped him in the least to understand—or accept—his unprecedented response to Lily.

Fifty-one.

She was beautiful, yes. But Dmitri had known and bedded many beautiful woman in his thirty-six years. So what was it about her, specifically, that now made it as impossible to put the touch of the silky softness of her skin from his mind as it had been for him to resist kissing her in the kitchen earlier? Dio mio—in the kitchen, on top of the table where they had just eaten dinner, of all things!

Fifty-two.

And what was this man Danny to Lily? A friend, she had said. But what sort of friend? A friend who just happened to be male? Or was the other man more than that? Surely a man who was just a friend wouldn’t have called her quite so late at night? And long distance, at that.

Fifty-three.

Yet why should it matter to him who or what this man Danny had been, or still was, in Lily’s life? It did not, obviously. Except she had given him the impression she did not have a man currently in her life …

Fifty-four.

It should not matter to him one way or the other whether Lily had lied to him earlier. It did not matter to him! Why should it? Lily meant nothing to him. Except as the annoying sister of the man who had eloped with Dmitri’s own sister.

Fifty-fi—

Dmitri stilled as the flashing of red lights caught and held his attention and he stared up at the security panel on the wall beside the door into the swimming complex. The lights only flashed like that when an intruder was trying to break into the palazzo.

Or when someone was trying to break out …

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘WHAT did you think you were doing?’ Dmitri growled, concentrating on wrapping a bandage about the cut on Lily’s hand as she sat in front of him on one of the kitchen chairs.

She gave a pained wince. Not because of the discomfort from the cut to her hand, but because of the obvious disgust in Dmitri’s tone as he asked her why she had broken a small window in the kitchen in an effort to try and get out of the palazzo.

Obviously with hindsight—and the arrival of four hefty employees of the security company who monitored the system installed in the palazzo, along with several local police officers—it hadn’t been such a good idea, after all.

Lily had cleared away in the kitchen before going upstairs to her bedroom. Where she had instantly felt the sharp edge of her confinement. That, and also the full force of her embarrassment at her behaviour in the kitchen earlier. No—nothing so mild as embarrassment. She had been totally devastated as she was bombarded with memories of her own lack of inhibition.

She just didn’t behave in that way. With any man. Let alone one who was keeping her a virtual prisoner—albeit a pampered one—in his home. And the thought of having to face him across the breakfast table in the morning had simply been too mortifying for her even to contemplate.

The obvious solution to her dilemma had seemed to be to remove herself from the palazzo and the temptation its dangerously attractive owner represented to her still shaky defences.

Great in theory—not so good in practice!

Oh, dragging a chair over and climbing up to break the small window above the sink in the kitchen hadn’t proved too much of a problem. It had been easy, in fact. Too easy, Lily had realised belatedly …

She had never even seen a sophisticated security system like the one installed in the palazzo before. She’d had no idea, for instance, that instead of the loud ringing of alarm bells she might have expected when she broke the window—and at the time had been grateful not to hear—an alarm actually went off in the offices of the security company itself, which in turn then sent a call through to the local police.