Brunetti's Secret Son Read online

  ‘When I’m with you, like this, I guarantee that every one of mine revolves around you,’ he supplied in a whispered breath.

  Maisie suppressed a shiver. ‘If you’re trying to get me to crawl into your bed like a pathetic little sex slave, forget it.’

  ‘There’s nothing remotely pathetic about you, gattina. When you do crawl into my bed, I imagine you’ll be a fierce little warrior woman.’ He moved closer, his warm, chiselled torso sliding against her back in the water. ‘Don’t make me wait too long, though.’

  Her fingers clung to the edge of the pool, her knuckles turning white with the effort. ‘Or what?’ she whispered fiercely. Daringly.

  ‘Or your wildcat ways will be met with a much more predatory force than would be wise for either of us,’ he breathed.

  ‘Romeo, don’t.’

  It was then she felt the barely leashed dominance of his whole body. His powerful erection nudged her bottom, its hard and thick promise making her shut her eyes and bite back the helpless, hungry moan that rose to her lips.

  ‘You think sex between us will be emotionless?’ he queried in a harsh whisper.

  She shook her head. ‘What else can it be?’

  ‘It wasn’t five years ago. You had enough passion for both of us, and more. And I gave you what you needed. This time, we’re husband and wife. You can let it count for something or you can let the transient nature of our situation stop you from demanding what you want. What we both want. Think about that, Maisie.’

  The next second, he was swimming away, hauling himself out of the water like an arrogant god. He didn’t look her way again as he towelled off and entered the villa.

  Maisie stayed put, fighting the need to surrender with every last atom in her body, fiercely resisting the knowledge that the uphill battle with herself where Romeo was concerned was only just starting. And that this time, she risked losing more than just her dignity.

  * * *

  As Romeo had instructed all week, they dined outside, between sunset and when the stars came out. She kept the conversation on safe topics, determined to stay away from the bombshell he’d placed between them at the pool.

  We’re husband and wife.

  The yearning those words triggered in her was something she didn’t want to dwell on.

  ‘The builders assure me the work will be done by the weekend. Which is just as well because I think our son has reached the point where we’ll wake up one morning and find him down there finishing the pond with his own two hands.’ The words were delivered with a bracing amount of amused dread.

  Maisie laughed. ‘I think poor Emily’s at her wits’ end, too, with reassuring him the pond will be ready by his birthday. If he decides to finish it on his own, I think she might help him, just for the sake of achieving some peace.’

  Romeo smiled, and his face was transformed from brooding sexiness to heart-stopping so fast her heart took a dizzy dive. ‘I suppose it’s a blessing then he’s managed to twist her around his fingers so soon. I can foresee a time when she adores him as much as we do.’

  He froze suddenly and his breath caught. The eyes that met hers held stunned shock and when he reached for his red wine, she saw how his hand trembled.

  She laid her hand over his as a lump rose in her throat. ‘It’s okay to admit you love your son, Romeo,’ she said gently. ‘In fact, I think it’s time you told him as much, and that you’re his father.’

  The shock dissipated, replaced by the customary brooding. He eyed her with a mildly disparaging look. ‘So was this some sort of test?’

  She jerked her hand away. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘To see how I fared in the fatherhood stakes before offering your permission to let him know I’m his father?’ he tagged on.

  ‘Of course not,’ she replied, the barb stinging deep and painfully. ‘You really think so little of me? Or of yourself?’ she added, because she sensed some of that pointed remark was directed at himself.

  A fleeting expression flashed across his face, almost like regret. Then his features tightened. ‘Why would you think any more of me or my fathering skills? You know enough about my background to know I have no experience in this. That my own childhood has left scars I’ll never be able to erase. Scars that could manifest in unpredictable ways somewhere down the line.’

  She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  His mouth pursed for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. ‘You know I lived on the streets. What you don’t know is that I joined a gang a few years after that. One that even the authorities feared to tackle.’

  Unease climbed into her throat. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I wanted to fit in, somewhere.’

  The raw vulnerability caught at her heart. ‘And did you?’

  He exhaled harshly. ‘Not after I refused to perform the initiation rites.’

  ‘Which were?’

  Her heart froze as he enunciated what he’d been asked to do. Silence settled over their table, until he raised his head.

  ‘You see why fatherhood isn’t a job I’m to be trusted to settle into easily.’

  Maisie’s heart squeezed at the pain in his voice. ‘But you walked away. You chose to walk away instead of hurting another human being.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean I’m equipped to handle this!’

  ‘You’re fighting Lorenzo instead of giving in to threats and extortion. You swore to protect Lucca within hours of meeting him. You’ve done nothing but care for him since we got here. Doesn’t that tell you something? Love makes you vulnerable sometimes, but it doesn’t make you weak.’

  His mouth twisted, but the pain in his eyes dissipated a little. ‘I wouldn’t know. Lucca’s young now, adorable and easy to handle. Who’s to say what will come later, and how well we’ll handle it?’ His voice was thin and a touch bleak, holding echoes of his past.

  Her hands clenched on the pristine white tablecloth. ‘Stop borrowing trouble, Romeo. You’ve done well so far. Let’s just take it one day at a time. And if you’re not ready to tell Lucca that you’re his father, then we’ll wait.’

  A muscle flexed in this jaw. ‘I wanted to tell him who I was the first moment I knew he was mine.’

  The touch of frost inside her melted. ‘Fine. Tomorrow, then, or the day after. Whenever you’re ready.’

  His mouth compressed for several seconds. Then he nodded. ‘Bene.’

  Maisie swallowed and nodded in return. She started to reach for her water glass, but he caught her hand in his.

  ‘I’m sorry for not handling this better.’

  The remaining frost was replaced by dizzying warmth. ‘It’s okay. I muddle through motherhood every day.’ She smiled.

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the soft skin. ‘You’ve done an admirable job, gattina.’

  Heat unfurled in her stomach, wending its way through her body when he continued to caress her with his mouth.

  She cleared her throat and forced herself to say something before she crumbled beneath the smouldering onslaught. ‘And you’ve had more experience than I think you’re letting on.’

  His eyebrows rose.

  ‘There was a picture of you in the paper, on a yacht with two little boys,’ she pried gently.

  A look crossed his face, a facsimile of the one he wore whenever he interacted with his son. ‘Rafa and Carlo are Zaccheo’s twin sons, and my godsons.’ He shrugged. ‘At least that’s what it says on paper. I don’t really have much interaction with them.’

  ‘Zaccheo is your ex-business partner?’

  He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. ‘Sì, but he is more than that.’

  ‘In what way?’

  Hazel eyes darkened a touch. ‘Our pasts were intertwined for a brief time during which we formed an unlikely bond.’ His tone suggested he wou
ldn’t elaborate, but as she had before, Maisie couldn’t help but pry, her need to know this man inside and out a yearning that wouldn’t go away.

  ‘Before or after you lived on the streets?’

  ‘Before. Zaccheo’s parents took me in for a while, but that situation could never be anything but temporary because my presence in their lives was not their choice.’

  He turned her hand over, his fingers tracing her palm in slow, lazy circles. It wasn’t a sensual move, even though there was plenty of that arcing between them. It was a grounding touch that sought, and received, a connection.

  ‘Are you ever going to tell me what happened with your mother?’ she murmured.

  He froze immediately. ‘I don’t consider the subject suitable dinner conversation.’

  She sighed. ‘Then I guess, since dinner is over, I should retire to bed.’

  ‘So you can tuck yourself into your cool sheets and congratulate yourself for escaping this needless torture you insist on putting us both through?’ he grated at her, a different, more dangerous brooding taking over his face. She also detected a vulnerability that made her wonder whether there was something more going on here than she was aware of.

  She slowly pulled her hand away. ‘It’s not needless.’

  His mouth twisted. ‘I suppose it’s something that you don’t deny it’s torturous.’ He caught up his glass and drained the last of his wine. The precision with which he set down the exquisite crystal made her think he would very much like to launch it across the terrace floor and watch it shatter in a million pieces.

  He shoved his chair back and stood. ‘Perhaps I’ll take a leaf out of your book and live in denial for a while. I’m sure there’s an urgent business decision I need to make somewhere in my company. Sleep well, gattina,’ he said mockingly, before striding off in the direction of his study.

  * * *

  She knew the mocking command would have the opposite effect even before she undressed and slid into bed two hours later after giving up the pretence of reading.

  Tossing and turning, Maisie tried rationalising and reaffirming her decisions. When by the thousandth time her own reasoning sounded mockingly hollow, she gave up. Frustrated, she yanked back the sheets and sat up. The hot-pink silk negligee she wore felt sticky on her skin, but the warm night air was inviting, a great way to empty her thoughts of the disturbing feeling that her resistance was crumbling.

  Tugging the silk over her head, she went into her dressing room and rummaged through the drawer containing her new selection of swimwear. When her fingers closed over an as-yet-unworn set, she pulled out the string bikini she’d looked at and immediately discarded when her wardrobe had arrived. Of all the swimwear that had been delivered, this was the most daring. The cups of the top part of the black-and-orange set barely covered half her breasts and the matching panties were made of nothing more than three pieces of string, leaving very little to the imagination.

  Making a face, she set it aside. Then glanced back at it. The little thrill of naughtiness surged higher the longer she eyed the garment.

  She was tired of being sensible. Especially at one o’clock in the morning. Deciding to add a little bit of spice to her illicit swim, she quickly donned the bikini and threw a white linen tunic over it.

  The villa was quiet, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she passed Romeo’s empty study.

  The path to the waterfall was softly lit by garden lamps. Snagging a towel from the stack near the swimming pool, she skirted the villa and hurried through the short tunnel and cave that opened into the stunning rock pool. Disrobing, Maisie dived into the pool, submerging for several seconds, hoping the heavenly cool water would wash away her turbulent thoughts.

  The strong compulsion to make the most of what she had now before it was taken away from her wouldn’t dissipate. On the contrary it grew stronger the harder she willed it away, the harder she swam from one end of the pool to the other.

  Finally, wrung out emotionally and physically, she perched on the rock beneath the waterfall, leaning her head back to catch the edge of the cascading water, and sighed at the delicious sting of the warm water on her face.

  ‘You insist you have no illusions of pursuing a life as a mermaid, and yet here you are again.’

  She jerked at the sound of Romeo’s voice and nearly fell into the water. Righting herself, she stared at his imposing, braced-legged stance at the opposite end of the pool. And swallowed hard.

  He was dressed, like her, for swimming, his trunks hugging thick, hair-dusted thighs. But whereas she’d worn a tunic, he only wore a towel around his neck. Her breath strangled and died in her lungs, her pulse racing at the sheer magnificence of him.

  She was doomed.

  She knew it even before he dropped into the pool and swam lazily towards her. Halfway, he ducked under the water, struck out in a powerful crawl and emerged at her feet. Hands braced on either side of her thighs, he stared wordlessly at her, his gaze intense, broodingly ravenous. Maisie stared down at his breathtaking face, the droplets of water glistening on his skin in the moonlight like tiny diamonds.

  Raw sexual energy leapt where their skin connected, firing arousal so strong she could almost touch it.

  ‘Did sleep elude you, as it did me, gattina?’ he enquired with a husky rasp after an endless throb of silence.

  She nodded dumbly, her fingers reaching out of their own accord to trace his eyebrow, his cheekbones. His jaw.

  ‘Have you grown tired of fighting the inevitable?’ he pressed.

  Her blood roared in her ears, drowning out her every resistant thought. ‘I’ve grown tired of fighting you.’

  The gleam in his eyes dimmed for a moment. ‘It’s not me you’ve been fighting, but yourself. If nothing else, be true to yourself about that, before this goes any further,’ he growled, his stare telling her he wouldn’t accept anything but her agreement.

  And he was right.

  She had been fighting this purely for her own self-preservation. How could she not? The consequences should he reject her a second time would be even more devastating than before. She knew it deep in her soul. With the passage of time her feelings towards him were changing, morphing into something deeper, stronger, that she couldn’t seem to control.

  The movement of the water jerked him a tiny fraction. The result was a slide of her fingers across his hot, beautiful skin, bringing her to the here and now, to the almighty need pounding through her blood.

  ‘I’m tired of fighting,’ she whispered raggedly.

  ‘Then surrender,’ he urged thickly. ‘Just let this be.’ His hands moved, sliding over her thighs to capture her knees. Tugging them open, he surged closer, his eyes so fierce and intense they seemed aflame from within. ‘I can’t stand another night of wanting you and being denied. Of imagining the many ways of having you, without going out of my mind. Surrender, gattina. Surrender now.’

  Desire, wild and unfettered, wrenched through her, rendering the last of her resistance useless. Her fingers speared into his wet hair, using her hold to tilt his face up to hers.

  Bending, she took his mouth in a greedy kiss, intent on gorging herself on a feast she’d stalwartly denied herself but couldn’t resist another moment longer.

  Somewhere down the line the devastation would be great. When she was back in her role of single mother far away in Ranelagh, her shredded emotions would have time to mourn, to berate her for her choices.

  But here...now, in this heavenly place with this man who put the very gods to shame, she would live in the moment. She would just...live. As she had that night in Palermo, she would give as much of herself as she could and take what Romeo offered.

  She groaned when he moved her closer to the edge of the rock and deepened the kiss, taking over her surrender with the terrifyingly intoxicating thrust of his tongue and the thrillin
g power of his body.

  The waterfall pounded with elemental force behind her, but it was nothing compared to the demanding power of Romeo’s kiss. He kissed her as if he’d hungered for her for aeons. As if he couldn’t get enough of her.

  Being wanted like that was like a drug to her senses. After years of bleak, icy indifference, it was a drug she craved more of with each passing second.

  So she protested with a loud whimper when he pulled away. Before she could reach for him, he planted a hand on her belly, pressed her back till she was flat on the rock. He picked up her legs and swung them onto the rock before surging out of the water to join her.

  For a long, taut moment, he stared down at her, his gaze sizzling over her from top to toe. Then he prowled over her, his hands braced on either side of her head.

  ‘I’ve often imagined you like this, spread over this rock like a pagan sacrifice for me to feast on, to pleasure until neither of us can move. Now here you are, wearing this wisp of clothing meant to tempt even the holiest of saints,’ he breathed, triumph blazing through his golden eyes.

  ‘It’s a good thing you’re not a saint, then, isn’t it?’ she managed, then watched a wicked smile curl his lips.

  ‘Sì, it’s a very good thing. Because no saint should be allowed to see you like this. Or allowed to do this.’ He flicked his tongue over the wet material of her bikini top, then, with a deep groan, he shoved the material aside with his teeth and repeated the action several times, before pulling her nipple into his mouth.

  Her back arched off the rock with a cry that was indeed pagan, thick arousal firing straight between her legs. He suckled long and hard, his groans matching hers as sensation cascaded through her.

  ‘Dio mio,’ he muttered when he lifted his head. He speared her with an almost shocked expression before he looked down at her exposed breasts. ‘Dio mio, gattina, you’re intoxicating. I want to devour every inch of you.’ Impatiently, he tugged at the bikini strings, pulling them away to bare her body to him.

  A drop of water splashed onto her neglected nipple. With another wicked smile, he licked at it, then trailed his hot mouth down her torso to the line of her bikini bottom. Unable to keep her hands at her sides, Maisie speared her fingers in his hair, holding him to her quivering belly when he nipped her flesh in tiny, erotic bites.