At The Sicilian Count's Command. Carole Mortimer
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‘Breakfast is being served in the dining room if you’re—’
‘I’m not hungry, either, Angel,’ Wolf Gambrelli interrupted, coming down on his haunches at the poolside to hold out a hand to her. ‘At least, not for food…’ he added enigmatically.
Angelica frowned as she looked at that hand: his fingers were long and tapered. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get out of the water and reveal herself in her skimpy bikini—and she was very sure she didn’t want to put her hand in Wolf Gambrelli’s!
Which was pretty ridiculous; all she had to do was remember that Wolf Gambrelli was exactly the sort of man she had no intention of ever being attracted to, and that should be enough to completely nullify these feelings of physical awareness.
She reached out and took his hand, and noticed the muscles moving in his shoulders as he pulled her effortlessly out of the water to stand beside him.
Too close beside him, she instantly realised, her breath catching in her throat as his deep brown eyes darkened appreciatively and his gaze moved slowly down the length of her body, lingering on the creaminess of her breasts before going down to the hollow curve of her stomach and the gentle swell of her hips.
Angelica swallowed hard, knowing that telling herself this man was everything she didn’t want in her life—a playboy and a womaniser—hadn’t worked. She was so very aware of the heat of his body, of the leashed power in his wide shoulders—of the fact that her own body had become warm from the appreciative caress in his eyes as he unabashedly looked his fill of her.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I usually have a soak in the hot Jacuzzi after my swim.’ She turned abruptly away to pick up her towel from the lounger, wiping the pool water from her face before wrapping the towel toga-style about her body.
‘Go ahead,’ Wolf drawled, having been unable to resist joining her when he’d returned from strolling in the garden before breakfast and seen Angelica Harper alone in the pool.
Wolf had noted the statuary when he’d entered the warmth of the poolhouse—goddesses, mostly—but none of them compared in beauty to Angelica Harper. He’d stood and watched her swim the length of the pool, her skin alabaster, the beauty of her face unadorned by make-up and dominated by those misty grey eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes.
If anything, completely stripped of any sophisticated adornment, she looked more beautiful this morning than she had last night!
He walked several feet behind her now as, after one more frowning glance up at him, she walked down the poolside to where steam rose invitingly from the ten-foot circular Jacuzzi Wolf had passed on his way in, a cascade of greenery shielding the tub from any prying eyes outside the poolhouse.
Wolf’s mouth tightened as he easily imagined Angelica and Stephen lazing naked in the steaming water before getting out and making love together.
In fact, his imagination had been working overtime since he’d first set eyes on Angelica Harper!
As his sleepless night testified, he acknowledged self-derisively.
Not that one sleepless night was a problem. No, it was the fact that he found Angelica Harper just as sensually disturbing this morning as he had last night that was the problem.
Because, after witnessing Angelica going to Stephen’s bedroom last night, there was no doubting the intimacy of their relationship!
‘Mmm,’ Angelica murmured appreciatively as she sank beneath the waves of bubbling water, sitting down on one of the underwater tiled benches and resting her head back against the side to look up at the broodingly silent Wolf Gambrelli. ‘You really should go for a swim and then come for a dip in here, Wolf,’ she told him brightly as she luxuriated in the Jacuzzi. ‘It’s absolutely wonderful!’
‘I prefer to watch you,’ he assured her, and again he got down on his haunches to pick up a strand of the long dark hair she had lifted out of the water and draped over the side.
Bringing him close, Angelica noted nervously.
Too dangerously close, she acknowledged, as her breathing suddenly felt constricted, and her gaze was caught and held by the caress of those long fingers on the thick strand of her hair.
‘Do you love him?’
She raised startled eyes to Wolf Gambrelli’s face. The harshness of his tone was matched by the hard glitter in his dark eyes and the tight clenching of his jaw. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she replied uncertainly.
His hand tightened on the thick strand of her hair and he twisted it around his long fingers. Repeatedly. So that Angelica was forced to lift her head, which brought her face so close to his she could now see the flecks of gold amongst the brown in his shrewd eyes.
‘I asked if you love Stephen,’ Wolf Gambrelli repeated. ‘Surely that’s a simple enough question to answer?’ he prompted at her silence. ‘Either a yes or no will do,’ he added, when she still didn’t answer.
Well, no…no, it wouldn’t. Her relationship with Stephen was much more complex than that. They were still getting to know each other. And while she might care for Stephen, she wasn’t sure she understood the life he had led these last thirty years.
Wolf’s jaw clenched as she continued not to reply to his question, his eyes becoming glacial, his hand tightening on the silkiness of her hair. His scrutiny moved down as he caused her throat to arch and her breasts to thrust forward, her hardened nipples clearly outlined against the soft material of the red bikini top.
He knew a sudden hunger to see those breasts bared, to know whether her nipples were a dark, tempting brown or a dusky, inviting pink, to touch and taste them until he heard her throaty groans of pleasure.
‘Count Gambrelli, you’re hurting me!’ Her surprised protest broke into his erotic imaginings.
Wolf frowned darkly as he looked down at her, his frown deepening as he realized he had tightened his hand in her hair and twisted her head back.
He gave a self-disgusted snort as he unravelled that silky tress from his fingers before straightening, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets as he looked down at her, dark storminess in his eyes now. ‘Stephen is obviously besotted with you—’
‘I don’t believe that is any of your business, Count Gambrelli.’
‘I find it…surprising that a young and beautiful woman like you would give herself to a man for his money,’ he opined.
Angelica stopped rubbing the sore area of her scalp. ‘“Give” myself?’ she repeated slowly.
His mouth twisted derisively. ‘I saw you go to Stephen’s bedroom last night, so I think it is a little late for you to attempt to play the outraged virgin!’
He had seen her?
‘And just how did you see me, Count Gambrelli?’ she demanded, having not seen him in the hallway the previous night. ‘Did you stand in the shadows and spy on us?’ she scoffed, and she surged up on a wave of bubbles in the Jacuzzi, then stood up to wade across and climb out of the tub. She grabbed up her towel to wrap it around herself before turning to face him, her cheeks flushed with anger and her eyes glittering with the same emotion. ‘Well?’ she challenged furiously.
What on earth was he doing? Wolf wondered with inward self disgust.
Had his heated response to this woman’s sensual beauty made him forget all discretion?
‘No, of course I was not spying on you,’ he denied coldly. ‘I decided to go back downstairs for a brandy—’
‘And by pure coincidence it happened to be at the time I went to Stephen’s bedroom?’ she concluded. She gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘I don’t believe my relationship with Stephen is any of your business, Count Gambrelli.’
‘Stephen is my friend—’
‘I don’t