Italian Mavericks: Bound By The Italian's Bargain: The Italian's Ruthless Seduction / Bound to the Tuscan Billionaire / Bought by Her Italian Boss
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‘Sit up, Bella,’ he commanded, and she did so, staring dazedly down at him as she sat up and straddled him.
‘Now take down your hair.’
God, but he adored the way her hands shook as they lifted to do his bidding. Seeing her so turned on didn’t make up for all the years he’d suffered because of his unrequited passion for her, but it was something.
He watched in awe as her glorious hair tumbled in erotic disarray around her shoulders. It was her crowning glory, her hair; soft and silky with a slight wave when dry and lots of curls when wet. He glanced down at where only the narrowest strip of fair curls guarded her sex. Some chose to totally denude their bodies but he’d always preferred a little mystery.
Bella still remained a mystery to him in some ways. But not in the bedroom. She obviously liked being in control sometimes. But mostly she preferred playing the submissive role. That was fine by him. He liked being the boss in the bedroom.
‘You can take over now,’ he said, appealing to both sides of her nature.
She looked startled for a split second, but then smiled, a rather enigmatic smile that he could not read. Without saying a word, she rose up onto her knees, her eyes dropping to his freed erection. A groan hovered on his lips when she grasped it with both hands, directing it carefully but inexorably to the entrance to her body. Both their eyes remained glued to that spot, Sergio’s heartbeat ceasing as his flesh began to slowly disappear within hers.
Dear God...it felt incredible. She was incredible. And so hot.
He didn’t start breathing again till he was fully inside her. He might have stayed relatively sane if she hadn’t started to move, rising up high then sinking back down upon him with her eyes shut, her head thrown back in an attitude of blissful rapture. Her own breathing grew more rapid, a harsh panting escaping from her parted lips. She was off in another world, a world where it didn’t seem to matter what male body was underneath her. And did he care? Hell, no. He was too far gone to care about anything but being released from the agony that was gripping his sex.
Her first contraction sent him over the edge, his hips jerking up from the bed as he ejaculated into her with the violence of an erupting volcano. Reaching blindly for her shoulders, he dragged her down on top of him, holding her tightly whilst their bodies throbbed and shuddered together, wallowing in the fact that she was as crazy in lust as he was.
If only she hadn’t nestled into his neck with her face. If only she hadn’t pressed her mouth against his skin, murmuring his name at the same time.
His heart immediately squeezed tight, then flowered open, emotion flooding in.
His groan was the groan of defeat. Or was it resignation?
He could keep telling himself it was just lust dictating his actions with Bella; and this was true to a degree. But Sergio could no longer pretend that his emotions hadn’t become involved as well. Was it love yet? He hoped not. He’d never actually fallen in love before so he had nothing to guide him. But he could not deny that she was getting under his skin in more ways than just sexual. Which was most unfortunate. Bella didn’t want him to fall in love with her, and he sure as hell didn’t want to fall in love with her. Once their holiday fling was over, she would return to her life on the other side of the world, with this interlude just a pleasant memory. Their friendship—even with benefits—would not survive. She’d get sucked back into her career and that would be that. She wouldn’t give him a second thought, the way she hadn’t when their parents had divorced all those years ago. It had been bad enough lusting after her from afar. He didn’t want to love her from afar as well.
Sergio decided then and there to make sure that didn’t happen.
So get your butt out of this bed, Sergio, he told himself firmly. And cut back on the sex from now on. She’s too damned good at it, that’s the trouble. All these fabulous climaxes are scrambling your brains, and messing with your emotions. The plan to get her out of your system was seriously flawed from the start. Logic should have told you that once you had Bella in your bed, you’d be in danger of becoming even more obsessed with her.
It took a supreme effort of will for Sergio to extricate himself from under her body, especially when she moaned and tried to cling to him. Thankfully, her limbs were weak, though her eyelids fluttered open when he pulled the sheet up over her.
‘Don’t leave me,’ she begged softly.
God, but she was the very devil; a siren calling him to sure disaster.
He had to get out of here. And now!
‘Go to sleep, Bella,’ he commanded. ‘You’ve had enough for tonight. And quite frankly, so have I.’
So saying, he whirled round and strode from the bedroom before she could glimpse that he hadn’t had enough of her. Not by a long shot!
His self-lecturing didn’t stop after he returned to the master bedroom, continuing all through the long cold shower he forced himself to endure.
‘No sex tomorrow,’ Sergio muttered as the icy shards of water lashed his burgeoning erection into retreat. ‘Thankfully, Maria will be here for a few hours during the day. That should stop me from going skinny dipping with Bella in the pool, then sweeping her off to the master bedroom for a lazy afternoon of non-stop lovemaking.’
Unfortunately, both ideas projected arousing images that refused to be banished. Sergio imagined their indulging in lots of oral foreplay in the pool and its surrounds. Maybe he’d even let her go all the way with that delicious mouth of hers. God, but she was good at that. Once he came that way, he’d be able to take his time with her in bed without his own frustration getting the better of him. He could play with her for ages. Maybe even bind her to the bedposts. Would she let him do that? he wondered. Possibly not yet. But soon, she would. He was sure of it. She—
Sergio abruptly pulled himself up short. What in hell did he think he was doing, making plans for seducing Bella further? He was supposed to be working out how to reduce the amount of sex between them, not increase it.
He shook his head at himself, vowing to do everything in his power to take control of the situation. Some sex with Bella was fine. But only last thing at night, and only under the pretext of helping them both with their insomnia. Because let’s face it, Sergio, you’re not going to be able to sleep till you’ve had her again. But sex during the day is simply not on. That will only lead to your becoming addicted to her. Or worse!
By the time Sergio emerged from the shower, he had his body and his mind under control. He also had a plan to survive the next month, because that was what it had come down to. Surviving. Of course, having a plan and putting it into action were sometimes two different things entirely. It also wouldn’t help that he would have Maria playing matchmaker the whole time Bella was here. Thank God he’d accepted that invitation to go to dinner at Claudia’s tomorrow night. That would take care of a few hours in the evening when temptation would be at its highest. And thank God come Monday he could legitimately spend every weekday at the factory in Milan. If truth be told, it was high time he got to work with sorting out the family business, anyway. Maybe, if he got deeply involved with that, being with Bella would lessen in importance.
And maybe the sun won’t come up tomorrow, Sergio, he thought with a rueful laugh.
He sighed a deep sigh and ordered himself to go to bed and go to sleep. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as good at obeying his orders as Bella. Sergio tossed and turned for ages, not dropping off till the sky was turning that peculiar shade of mauve that preceded the dawn. When he eventually regained consciousness, the balcony outside the master bedroom was bathed in sunshine.
The sun had come up, was his first thought.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE KITCHEN IN the villa was large and welcoming, with a flagstone floor, pine cupboards, marble benchtops and a central wooden table that could seat up to eight people. When Bella entered it shortly after noon Sergio was seated at the far end of the table, dressed in colourful board shorts and a white T-shirt. His eyes were down, his large hands cupped around a steaming mug of what she presumed was coffee. He still hadn’t shaved and he looked even sexier to Bella than he had yesterday. Maria was standing at the kitchen sink, humming away and staring through the window at the lake beyond.
Sergio’s head lifted at her arrival, his dark gaze sweeping over her from top to toe before returning to her face, a small smile curving that wicked mouth of his.
It was a struggle not to look embarrassed in any way. But she managed, Bella having determined before coming downstairs not to act like some simpering virgin whom Sergio had seduced against her will. When she’d first woken this morning, the memories of the day before had momentarily overwhelmed her. In a way, it all seemed surreal. Her unexpected lust for Sergio. His astonishing proposal that they have a friends with benefits fling. And then her even more astonishing boldness in bed.
Was that really her, going down on him so avidly, then sitting on top of him and riding him so wildly and wantonly?
Part of her had wanted to shrink from that person. Her mother had brought her up to believe that nice girls definitely didn’t do things like that.
Thinking about her mother’s hypocritical advice over the years had quickly banished any sense of shame over the night before, Bella accepting with a new sexual maturity that she’d enjoyed every incredibly exciting second. She’d especially enjoyed experiencing her first orgasms. Lord, but she’d never dreamt of such pleasure. Or such blissful satisfaction.
Bella wondered momentarily as she smiled at Sergio how he would react if she told him she’d never had an orgasm before last night?
Not that she would. He clearly believed she was an experienced woman of the world. To reveal that the opposite was the case might send him running a mile, something she certainly didn’t want. What Bella wanted more than anything was more of what she’d had last night. She actually found amusement in the realisation that her mother would die at the R-rated desires running through her darling daughter’s head.
‘Good morning,’ she said brightly as she pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table.
Maria immediately spun around from the sink.
‘At last! Someone is up who will eat breakfast!’ she exclaimed. ‘Sergio, he just want coffee. But not decent Italian coffee. He prefer that weak rubbish they drink in London. So what you want, Bella? A nice omelette, perhaps? But first a cup of espresso.’
Bella looked sheepish as she sat down. ‘Would you be offended if I had what Sergio’s having?’
Sergio laughed. ‘See, Maria? I am not the only one with a weak stomach this morning.’
‘Pah! You two. I know why you no want breakfast. Too much pizza and champagne last night.’
‘Too much something,’ Sergio muttered under his breath, then smiled at Bella, his eyes glittering with a knowing amusement.
Bella kept her cool on the outside, but her insides didn’t fare quite so well. Truly, the man was the devil in disguise. Who would have believed that the once-conservative Sergio would turn into such a Casanova?
Not that she really minded.
‘So how did you sleep?’ he asked her.
‘Very well,’ she replied without batting an eyelid. ‘And you?’
‘Like a log.’
‘Champagne always makes me drowsy,’ she said, determined to play the game as well as he did.
‘Then we’ll open another bottle tonight.’
‘I thought you were going to your neighbour’s place for dinner tonight,’ she reminded him.
‘So I am. But I shouldn’t get back too late.’
‘I might have gone to bed by then.’
He shrugged. ‘There’s always another night.’
It irked Bella that he wasn’t as keen to be with her again as she was to be with him. But then why would he be? Last night hadn’t been anything special to him. Not as it had been for her.
Maria scowled as she placed a mug of coffee down in front of Bella. ‘I do not come here just to make rubbish coffee.’ She placed her hands on her wide hips and glowered at them.
‘I know!’ she exclaimed, suddenly beaming. ‘I will pack you both a picnic basket. Sergio, you will take Bella out in the rowing boat. Go to that secret cove you found when fishing a while ago. That way, Bella does not have to wear any silly wig. She can be herself.’
Bella’s stomach flipped over at the thought of going on a romantic picnic lunch with Sergio in some secret cove. He didn’t seem quite as keen on the idea, however, if his expression was anything to go by.
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said. ‘It’s always very busy on the lake on a Sunday. Someone in a passing boat might recognise Bella.’
‘Not if I wear dark glasses and a large hat,’ she said straight away, locking eyes with his.
His scowl was more than a match for Maria’s. ‘Be it on your head, then. But I suggest you wear something different from that,’ he added, nodding at the white cheesecloth skirt and shirt she had on. ‘The top is okay. But you’ll need a swimming costume under it. It’s hot today and the water in the cove is perfect for swimming.’
Bella’s stomach tightened when she thought of the brief white bikini she’d bought at the airport. She hadn’t bought it with seduction in mind but it had seduction written all over it.
‘Fine,’ she said, doing her best to look innocent.
His dark eyes narrowed slightly.
‘Maria, how long will it take to put that picnic basket together?’ he asked.
‘Not long. Ten, fifteen minutes.’
‘I’ll go get the boat out. Bella, you go put that swimming costume on. And don’t bother with make-up. You don’t need it, anyway.’
Bella decided to take that as a compliment, despite his brusque tone. Sergio might be Casanova in bed at night but super charming in the daytime, he wasn’t.
‘Can I finish my coffee first?’ she asked.
‘If you must.’
‘I must. Then I have to go to the toilet and put my swimming costume on.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘And how long will that take?’
She shrugged. ‘Fifteen minutes. Tops.’ You learned to be quick when you worked on stage.
Sergio gave her a droll look as he stood up. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it. Women don’t know the meaning of punctuality. Just try not to keep me waiting too long.’ And he stalked off.
‘He’s a bit grumpy in the morning, isn’t he?’ Bella said as she finished her coffee.
Maria sighed. ‘Sergio. He has been sad since his papa passed away. But he will be better now that he come home to Italy to live. Even better when he finds himself a wife. Maybe someone nice like you, Bella. It is time you got married, is it not?’
Though somewhat startled by Maria’s unexpected suggestion, Bella could not help wallowing in the romantic fantasy of marrying Sergio for a few silly seconds. Till common sense kicked back in. No way would Sergio ever ask her to marry him. Frankly, she was amazed that he’d forgiven her enough to be her friend. Though of course that friendship now came with benefits, benefits that she’d enjoyed last night as much as him. Hopefully, she would enjoy some more of those benefits during their romantic picnic by the lake; just the thought of being with Sergio again made her head spin and her heart race.
‘Sergio isn’t interested in getting married just yet, Maria,’ she said, jumping up from the table and carrying the mug over to the sink. ‘And neither am I.’ Her interests lay elsewhere at the moment. ‘Now I’d better hurry.’
Seventeen minutes later she was sitting in the back of a rather ancient-looking wooden rowing boat whilst casting an envious glance at the gleaming red and white speedboat still sitting in the boat shed. The picnic basket was safely stowed under her seat, Sergio using a battered oar to push the boat away from the shore. He hadn’t changed his clothes, though he was now wearing sunglasses. Understandable, given the brightness of the day. And the water.
‘I think I should warn you,’ she said with slightly feigned nonchalance, ‘that Maria is trying to matchmake us.’
His expression showed this was not news to him, which perhaps explained his irritable mood. Maybe Maria had said something to him this morning before she’d come downstairs.
‘Maria is a romantic,’ he said with an exasperated shrug of his broad shoulders.
‘Most women are romantics at heart,’ Bella confessed. Herself included. Only a romantic would ever have imagined that one day she would find a man who would love her as deeply as she loved him; who would understand her and support her; who would be a great father as well as a fabulous husband. Such thinking was the stuff fantasies were made of. Fantasies and Hollywood movies.
Bella actually thought it sweet of Maria to imagine that she would make Sergio a good wife. Because of course she wouldn’t. Their sex life might be fine but that was about it.
Her sigh carried a degree of regret that life was infinitely more complicated for a woman once she had a successful career, especially one that was as essential to her as breathing. Bella might be suffering from burnout at the moment, but she could never give up performing. Singing for an audience made her soul soar in ways she could never describe. Without it, she would be a mere shadow of herself.
‘What did she say to you?’ Sergio asked as he began to row.
His impatient tone made Bella worry that she might have got Maria into trouble.
‘Oh, nothing much. Just that I would make you a good wife. Which was rather amusing. I can’t imagine a less suitable wife for you. Anyway, I told Maria neither of us wanted marriage at the moment. I hope you don’t mind my speaking for you.’
‘Not at all. I appreciate it.’
Just then a couple of jet skis zoomed past them, their wakes causing the rowing boat to rock back and forth, Bella sucking in sharply as she clung to the sides.
Sergio swore at them before apologising to Bella for his language. ‘Lake Como in the tourist season is not what it used to be,’ he told her.
‘Yes, I can see that,’ Bella said with regret in her voice. ‘But I suppose you can’t blame people for coming here. It’s such a beautiful place, especially in the summer.’
‘I blame the authorities for allowing cowboys like that to spoil other people’s pleasure. This is a place to relax. It is not a speedway.’
‘Yet you have a speedboat,’ she pointed out mischievously.
‘I do not drive it like a cowboy.’
She laughed. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it. Now where is this cove you’re taking me to?’
‘It’s a little way yet. If we stop talking I will row faster. Just admire the scenery and relax.’
Bella stopped talking but she didn’t relax. Perhaps because the scenery she started admiring had nothing to do with her beautiful surrounds but the man right in front of her eyes, his action of rowing focusing her attention on his magnificent physique and the way the biceps in his arms bulged with each stroke. It was to be thanked that she was wearing sunglasses because they let her ogle him shamelessly without being obvious. The instant and intense desire she’d felt for him yesterday by the pool returned with a rush, making her belly tighten and her nipples tingle. She could not wait to reach the privacy of this cove, the word secret suggesting that they would be unobserved there. They would be all alone...
* * *
Sergio could feel her eyes on him.
Yet he wasn’t even looking at her. He dared not. To look upon her exquisite beauty was sheer torture for him. The hat and the sunglasses didn’t help at all. He could still see her body, which was covered ineffectually by a semi-sheer white shirt and what looked like a very skimpy white bikini underneath. And then there were her legs...her very long, very bare legs. God, but her legs were something else. A dancer’s legs. Well toned yet graceful with slender ankles and shapely calves and lovely firm thighs, thighs that he started imagining wrapped around him whilst he...
Gritting his teeth, Sergio dragged his mind back from the brink of hell, kept his eyes down and concentrated on the rhythm of his rowing stroke. He was a good rower. He’d rowed at Oxford, his team of eight winning the regatta one year. Alex had been in the same team, but not Jeremy, who’d broken his leg skiing. He’d had to be content cheering from the banks of the river. Which he’d done very well in the company of his girlfriend at the time, as well as all the girlfriends of the rest of the team.
Sergio smiled at the memory. He was a devil with the ladies, was Jeremy.
‘What are you smiling at?’ Bella asked, forcing Sergio to glance up at her.
‘I was thinking of my rowing days at Oxford.’
‘It was a rather wicked smile,’ she pointed out with a knowing smile of her own.
‘I was also thinking of my friend, Jeremy.’
‘What about him?’
‘Jeremy was the resident Don Juan of the university.’
‘Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?’
Sergio laughed. ‘Hardly. No man alive could keep up with Jeremy when it comes to the game of musical beds. He’s now a grand master.’
‘Being a Don Juan is hardly an admirable trait.’
‘You don’t know Jeremy. There’s no malice in him. All his exes still hold him in high regard.’
‘So you don’t consider yourself a Don Juan?’
‘Not at all. I did sow some wild oats when I was at Oxford but since then my sex life has been on the conservative side. Just one girlfriend at a time.’
‘I see. And how long does a girlfriend usually last?’
‘A lot longer than Jeremy’s,’ he said drily. ‘Though I must confess I’ve had a few over the years.’
‘And you’ve never fallen in love?’
Sergio realised this conversation was getting too close to the bone. He’d also almost rowed right past the cove.
‘Not even close,’ he said abruptly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind stopping with the twenty questions, we’re here. And this next part is a little tricky to negotiate.’
* * *
Bella had been grateful for the distraction of talking. She’d also been genuinely interested in finding out more about Sergio, the man. But once silence fell between them, she was catapulted back to her earlier state where her longing to be with him again overwhelmed all other emotions. Suppressing a sigh, she glanced around her, frowning as she realised that her mental picture of Sergio’s secret cove bore little resemblance to reality. There was no cute little beach with soft sand. Just a U-shaped inlet, the shoreline bordered by an ancient stone wall as was common around the lake. The wall was quite high; Bella not seeing herself clambering up over it from a rocking boat. Neither could she see herself swimming in the water, which looked cold and deep, not at all warm. Where they would have a picnic she had no idea, unless it was in the boat.
‘The water line is higher than when I was last here,’ Sergio said as he angled the boat round a slight bend, Bella relieved to see a set of well-worn steps carved into the wall. There was also a large iron ring bolted into the wall to which Sergio secured the boat.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said when he saw her frowning. ‘There’s a lovely little secret garden on the other side of the wall. But I don’t think we’ll be going swimming. Best leave that till we get back to the villa.’
He hadn’t exaggerated. There was a truly delightful secret garden on the other side of the wall, with soft mossy grass underneath shady pine trees and an abundance of flowering shrubs exuding a variety of scents. It was obvious, however, that the garden hadn’t been tended for some time. There was no villa nearby, that she could see. Not that she could see very far; the bushes and trees were too thick.
‘Are we trespassing on private property?’ she asked as Sergio placed the wicker picnic basket under a shady tree then reached for the checked blanket resting on the double-handled lid.