The Revenge Collection 2018. Кейт Хьюит
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another day. Right now my attention is on an altogether more pleasurable occurrence.’
Elena had stopped breathing, her fingers tingling with sensation where his breath whispered against it.
How could she respond so physically to him? By any law of logic and decency, it shouldn’t be possible.
And how could her body buzz with the thought of what the night would bring?
They’d arrived back at his apartment.
Gabriele let go of her hand but instead of getting out, he brushed his lips against hers, catching her unawares, not giving her time to turn her face away. ‘Come, Mrs Mantegna, let us celebrate our new union.’
* * *
The atmosphere in the elevator to Gabriele’s apartment was as charged as he’d ever known it, as if an electrical current had been looped around them, pulling them ever closer together.
‘Let’s get a drink,’ he said, leading her into the dining room.
She stepped through the door and came to an abrupt halt.
‘Did you do this?’ she asked.
On the table were two bottles of pink champagne in a bucket and two flutes. Next to them were silver trays of Italian and American canapés and sweet treats, from asparagus wrapped in Parma ham, to delicate pastry bites to heart-shaped chocolate truffles. Somewhere in those delicious-looking trays of food lurked a bite or two laced with real truffles—he could smell the distinct musky, nutty scent, an aroma that brought to mind memories of his childhood before they’d emigrated, when he and his father had spent a day truffle detecting.
He had so many happy memories of his father. A childhood filled with happiness. But that was all he had left. Memories.
‘A private feast for two,’ he murmured, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing into her back.
There was the lightest of pressure returned to him before she jolted forward to the table. ‘Well, thank you for this because I am starving.’
‘That’ll teach you to skip breakfast.’
She met his eyes. Her cheeks coloured and she looked away.
Gabriele hid a smile.
The anticipation of the consummation of their vows had given an added piquancy to their mutual loathing. He could almost taste it.
There wasn’t the slightest doubt in his mind that the attraction was reciprocated. None at all. He could see it in her colouring, hear it in the deepening of her breaths. And, most of all, he could still feel the kisses they’d shared. And they had shared them. She’d kissed him right back.
‘Take a seat,’ he said, pulling a chair out for her. While she sat and began unwrapping the trays of food, he took a bottle of the champagne, aimed it at the wall, and uncorked it.
He poured them both a glass and passed one to her.
Raising his glass in the air, he said, ‘To us.’
She chinked her glass to his.
‘To us,’ she echoed, before adding, ‘And here’s to as short a marriage as it’s possible to have.’
‘And may all those short days be as pleasurable as they can be,’ he retorted, enjoying watching the colour rise back up her cheeks again.
For all her words of being starving, Elena only nibbled at the spread before her.
Gabriele, never one to turn down food, found his own appetite strangely diminished too.
It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman, he reasoned. The expectation must be affecting him more than he’d expected. All the same, he ate over half the available food and a handful of the truffles.
He was content to let the meal drag out and make idle chit-chat. There was no rush. They had all night.
He almost laughed. A piece of paper they’d both signed that day said they had the rest of their lives.
When the first bottle of champagne was empty, he reached for the one sitting in the ice bucket.
‘I don’t want another drink,’ Elena said suddenly, her eyes on him. ‘I’m ready to go to bed.’
He raised a brow, a thrill racing through him at her admission.
Colour crept over her cheeks but she held his gaze, searching his eyes as intently as he searched hers. He brushed his thumb down the length of her cheekbone, marvelling at the softness of her skin. Her eyes closed and when she opened them the green darkened and a spark flashed from them.
‘I’m ready for bed,’ she repeated in a whisper.
* * *
Elena felt so tightly wound that she fleetingly wondered if she would be sick.
She’d hardly eaten a thing, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering too madly to let anything else in. With every passing minute of their shared meal she’d expected Gabriele to take charge, declare their meal over, and lead her into the bedroom. That he had been happy to linger had only added to the fear and anticipation rioting together in her. It had been like a ticking clock, the pendulum swinging louder and louder with every beat until it had become too much to bear.
She hadn’t been able to take the suspense a moment longer.
Being the one to vocalise it had felt, strangely, empowering. She had made the first move. She’d taken the power out of his hands and claimed it for herself.
And now the butterflies had gone berserk, the fear being crowded out.
God forgive her, she wanted him. She wanted this to happen.
But she would only give him her body. Her head and emotions belonged only to her and she would keep them firmly detached. Men did it all the time so why should she be any different?
All the same, it took a few moments to get her feet moving out of the bathroom.
Gabriele was already propped up in bed, waiting for her, his broad chest bare.
His eyes shimmered to see her. He turned the sheets over beside him.
Under those same sheets she knew the rest of him was naked too. Just as she was naked beneath her silk robe.
The summer sun was still making its late descent, casting the room with a dusky hue. She wished it were fully dark; was certain it would make her feel a little less vulnerable.
She got under the sheets and lay on her back, pulling the sheets up to her shoulders.
Gabriele propped himself on an elbow and stared down at her. Unable to help herself, she gazed back.
Those soulful dark eyes swirled as if magma had been poured into them, an intensity there that made her heart skip and her nerves tauten painfully. Excitement and fear collided but she couldn’t look away.
A large, warm hand rested on her collarbone, fingers tracing across to dip under her robe and begin the trail down to her belly, peeling the fabric back until he reached the knotted sash.
His eyes holding hers, still propped up on his elbow, he untied it.
Elena’s heart hammered so hard its beats echoed in her ears. Breathing had become difficult, the air sticking in her throat. The line on her skin where his fingers had traced had been marked by his touch, the tingles spreading out through her flesh.
When Gabriele dipped his head and moved his mouth to hers, she only just turned her head away in time.
He stilled and gazed at her with questioning eyes before a half smile formed on his face.
‘Ah,’ he murmured softly, kissing her neck. ‘This is where you make a show of doing your duty and nothing more.’ He caught her earlobe in his teeth while he pulled her robe apart, exposing her breasts to him.
He