The Platinum Collection. Maisey Yates
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wife I would treat you with respect and generosity. This house would be your home. I would not expect you to make a permanent move to Italy on my behalf. In many aspects your life would continue as it always has.’
Jess tried to imagine him in her bed with life continuing as it always had, and almost loosed an overwrought giggle in blunt and incredulous disagreement. But native caution was already beginning to restrain her from a too hasty response.
‘Perhaps it is the thought of having to get pregnant that you find most off-putting—’
‘No,’ she cut in abruptly, surprising herself as much as him. ‘I’m at an age when I would very much like a baby, even if it did mean ending up on my own as a single parent. But have you really thought about this idea? You could marry me and I might fail to conceive.’
‘That would be fate. I would be disappointed but I would accept it with good grace,’ Cesario declared.
The sunshine coming through the window drenched his tall powerful figure in shades of bronze and gold and turned his dark deep-set eyes to gleaming topaz brilliance. As she stared her colour fluctuated and her antipathy to him was only heightened by the quickening of her heartbeat. If she said no, it would be because she did not know how she could possibly hope to fulfil the terms of giving him a positive answer. But she did not feel that she had a choice, or at least she had no choice when faced by the likelihood of her father being imprisoned and the family she adored being torn apart by the fallout from Robert Martin’s folly.
Almost thirty years earlier, Robert had promised to bring up Jess as his own child. He had stood faithfully by that promise, even when he’d been censured for not marrying Sharon until her daughter had been almost a year old because everybody had simply assumed that her child was his. In those days, having a child out of wedlock had still been a big deal in a country village and Jess’s mother had had a tough time during her months as an unmarried mother. Robert Martin had taken a big gamble when he’d married the woman he loved who, at the time, had willingly admitted that she did not love him. Sometimes, Jess reckoned, in a state of painful anxiety and uncertainty, the only way to move forward was to close your eyes and take a leap in the dark.
‘All right…I’ll do it!’ she breathed with an abruptness that shocked even her as she suppressed her teeming flood of misgivings and tendered agreement without allowing herself to think too hard about what she was doing.
And Cesario di Silvestri actually smiled, but not with the usual curl of his handsome mouth that had on previous occasions left her unimpressed. He gave her a dazzling smile powered by enough charisma to float a battleship, his lean, darkly handsome features energised by that expression on his wide, sensual mouth.
‘You won’t regret this,’ he asserted with confidence, reaching for her hand to mark their accord. Just before he released her fingers he noticed the line of paler scar tissue along the back of her hand and asked abruptly, ‘What happened here?’
Jess froze and paled, her heart suddenly beating frantically fast. ‘Oh, an accident…a long time ago,’ she heard herself say, only just resisting the temptation to yank her hand free again.
‘It was a nasty one,’ Cesario remarked, releasing her fingers.
He had picked an unfortunate moment in which to notice that scar and rouse bad memories. Indeed Jess had barely agreed to marry him before she fell into the turmoil of doubt and regret, but she rammed back those feelings and simply nodded, focusing her thoughts on the future rather than on that distressing episode from her past. The end would justify the means, she told herself urgently. Cesario would get what he wanted but so would she. Her child would still be her child to keep and he or she would benefit from a father. She would not think about the bedroom end of things, she absolutely would not think about that aspect until she was forced to do so.
‘I’ll get my staff to make a start on the wedding arrangements,’ Cesario informed her.
Jess studied him in dismay. ‘You are in a hurry.’
‘Naturally…I wouldn’t want you to change your mind, piccola mia,’ Cesario sent her a winging appraisal, his beautiful mouth taking on that sardonic curl she had always disliked. ‘And we have no reason to waste time before we embark on our project, have we?’
‘I suppose not,’ she mumbled as she bent to lift her jacket.
Cesario extended his hand and, when she failed to grasp his intention, simply and coolly removed the jacket from her grasp before shaking it open for her to put on. Colouring as she finally realised what he was doing, she turned to slide her arms into the sleeves, tensing beneath the familiarity when he tugged her hair out from below the collar where it was caught.
‘I’ll look forward to seeing your hair loose,’ he told her with husky anticipation.
And something in his dark voice and the intensity of his appraisal as she turned her head spooked her so that she backed off a hasty step. No man had ever had the power to make her so conscious of her own body, and around him she always felt clumsy and naïve.
Cesario ignored the arms she had crossed in front of her like a defensive barrier and touched her cheek with a reproving brown forefinger. ‘You’re going to be my wife. You will have to get used to being touched by me.’
‘And how am I supposed to do that?’ Jess questioned, infuriated by the fact that at such speed and with even less effort he had reduced her to a state of almost adolescent awkwardness in his presence.
Ignoring the distrustful vibrations that she was putting out, Cesario closed his hand over one of hers and tugged her inexorably closer. ‘Try relaxing first…’
Her teeth momentarily chattered together behind her closed lips as if she had been plunged suddenly into an icy bath.
‘I’m only going to kiss you,’ he imparted silkily.
Jess froze, her silvery eyes flickering with dismay at even that prospect. ‘No—’
‘We have to start somewhere, piccola mia.’
But he surprised her by releasing her hand and she snatched it back and was about to retreat further until it occurred to her that she could no longer afford to follow her own inclinations where he was concerned. If she couldn’t even allow him to kiss her, he would naturally assume that she couldn’t handle their agreement and he would withdraw his proposal. She froze like a bird confronted by a hungry stalking cat.
Cesario laughed softly in triumph and colour ran like a fire up over her cheekbones. She gazed up at him, properly aware for almost the first time of how much taller and heavier he was, six feet plus inches of lean, power-packed muscle. Her colour drained away, silvery eyes veiling as she reminded herself that she had no reason to fear him, but her body wasn’t listening to her brain, for it was angling backwards without her volition, almost tipping her off balance. Her heart was positively thundering in her ears.
‘There are some things I’m very good at,’ Cesario delivered with innate assurance. ‘And this is one of them, piccola mia.’
And his mouth slid across her sealed-shut lips as lightly as a dandelion seed borne by the breeze. She had expected passion, but he defied her expectations and her heart set up an even louder thump behind her breastbone, the pace speeding up as he brushed his knowing mouth back over hers and the extent of her tension made her rigid. The tip of his tongue scored that seam of denial and her body came alive when she was least prepared for it, a jerky quiver of feminine response slivering through her with almost painful effect as she parted her lips to let him kiss her properly. It was slow and hot and very thorough and it shook her up because her nipples pinched into hard little buds and her breasts swelled so that her bra felt as if it was constricting her ability to breathe. As his tongue delved with erotic skill into the sensitive interior of her mouth, moist heat surged between her thighs and she trembled.
‘That’s enough,’ she said shakily, her hands rising against his broad shoulders to push him back from her. Feverishly flushed, she found it hard to accept that once again she had enjoyed the feel of