Brunetti's Secret Son Read online

  By the time he released the ties and pulled away her meagre covering, she’d skated into pure delirium, compelled by a force beyond her control. She raised her head and met his gaze a second before he tasted the centre of her.

  ‘Oh, God!’ The force of her need jerked through her, then set in motion a series of undulations he was only too glad to follow. When her eyes started to roll shut, he pulled away.

  ‘No, watch me, gattina. Watch me enjoy you the way I’ve been dying to do.’

  The eroticism of the request pushed her closer to the edge. Panting, she nodded and kept her gaze on him as he lapped at her, his tongue executing wicked circles that cracked open a previously untapped well of pleasure.

  ‘Romeo,’ she groaned raggedly, the rush of feeling almost too much to bear. ‘Please...I can’t take any more.’

  ‘You can.’ Opening her wider, he altered the pressure of his tongue, his hypnotic gaze telling her she was under his control, to do with as he pleased.

  When she began to thrash, he simply laid a hand on her belly and continued his assault. And with each kiss, he grew just as possessed with the red-hot fire consuming them.

  ‘Now, Maisie,’ he growled against her swollen flesh an eternity later.

  With an agonised cry, she let go, her whole body convulsing with a release so powerful, she lost all sense of space and time.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHE OPENED HER EYES to find him sprawled next to her, his fingers tracing her mouth as he stared down at her, a peculiar expression simmering in his eyes.

  ‘What?’

  He kissed her, her earthy taste on his lips and the reason for it making her blush. When he raised his head, that look still lingered.

  ‘You returned home from Palermo pregnant.’ His hand trailed from her neck to her belly and stayed there while his eyes held her prisoner.

  ‘Is there a pointed question in there somewhere?’ she murmured, her heartbeat still thundering loud enough to compete with the sound of the waterfall. ‘I’m on the Pill now if that’s what you’re asking. It helps regulate my period.’

  ‘It’s not, but that’s good to know.’ His hand continued to wreak havoc on her. ‘You changed careers and forged another life for yourself all alone. Did you at any point seek another man’s bed to alleviate your loneliness?’ he asked thickly.

  She knew how weak and pathetic responding in the positive would make her look. But she couldn’t lie. Not when she’d just experienced an incredible earth-moving event.

  She threaded her fingers through his wet hair. ‘I was alone, not lonely. But no, Romeo. You were the last man I slept with.’

  His chest moved in a deep inhalation and his eyes filled once again with that primitive, razor-sharp hunger that threatened to obliterate her.

  The hand on her belly trailed to her thighs, his fingers digging into her skin in an urgent caress as his head dropped to hers once more. Falling into the kiss, Maisie gladly let sensation take over again, moaning when her hand trailed over taut muscle and bone to finally close on his steely length.

  She caressed him as he’d once hoarsely instructed her to, a thrill coursing through her when he groaned brokenly against her lips.

  All too soon, he was rolling on the condom he’d plucked from his trunks. Bearing her back, he parted her thighs and hooked his arms under her knees.

  He stared deep into her eyes and thrust home in one smooth lunge.

  ‘Oh!’

  His growl of male satisfaction reverberated to her very soul. Her fingers speared into his hair as he began to pleasure her with long, slow strokes, each one pulling a groan from her that only seemed to turn him on harder.

  He kissed her mouth, her throat, her nipples, with a hunger that grew with each penetration, until she was sure he wouldn’t stop until she was completely ravished.

  ‘You’re mine. Say it,’ he demanded gutturally, when her world began to fracture.

  ‘Romeo...’

  ‘I want to hear it, Maisie.’ He slid deep and stopped, the harsh, primitive request demanding a response.

  Something shifted inside her, a deep and profound knowledge sliding home that once she admitted this there would be no going back. That she would be giving herself over to him completely, body and soul.

  He angled his hips, the move a blatant demonstration that he had all the power, that he controlled every fibre of her being.

  ‘I...’ She groaned when he moved again, delivering that subtle thrust that sent her to the very edge of consciousness.

  ‘Tell me!’

  ‘I’m yours...yours. Please...’ Her nails dug into his back, and she surged up to take his mouth with hers. ‘Please, Romeo. I’m yours...take me,’ she whispered brokenly.

  Romeo moved, his senses roaring from the words, from her tight and wet heat, from the touch of her hands on his skin. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted more. All of her, holding absolutely nothing back. He reared back so he could look into her eyes, to see for himself that she meant it, that she belonged to him completely.

  Her eyes met his, the raw pleasure coursing through her shining in the stunning blue depths. There was no fight, no holding back, just a beautiful surrender that cracked something hard and heavy in his chest, bringing in the light and abating the tortured, weighted-down bitterness for the first time in his life.

  The sense that he could fly free, that he could find even deeper and truer oblivion in her arms than he had their first time in Palermo, slashed across his consciousness, making his thrusts less measured, the need to achieve that transcendental plane a call to his very soul.

  He looked down at her, saw her eyes grow dazed and dark as her bliss encroached. Letting go of her legs, he speared his fingers into her hair and kissed her.

  ‘Now, gattina mia,’ he croaked, knowing he was at the edge of surrender himself.

  ‘Yes, oh, yes,’ she replied. Then she was thrashing beneath him, her sex clamping around his in a series of convulsions that sent him over the edge.

  With a loud roar, Romeo flew, barely able to keep from crushing her as he found a release so powerful, had he believed in heaven he would’ve been certain he’d truly found it in that moment.

  He came back down to the touch of her hands trailing up and down his back, her mouth moving against his throat in a benediction of soft kisses.

  Again another blaze of memory slashed across his mind, a sense of déjà vu throwing him back five years, to his hotel suite in Palermo. The feeling that he was raw and exposed, that the woman beneath him wasn’t one he could bed and discard, pounding through him. Romeo was certain it was why he’d left as he had the next morning, ensuring he left no trace of himself behind.

  Because after mere hours with her, he’d instinctively known that Maisie O’Connell had the power to burrow under his skin, unearth tortured truths and hidden desires he wanted no man or woman to unveil. He’d listened abstractedly as she’d spilled her hopes and dreams and had wanted nothing more than to tell her he’d arrived in Palermo the week before, hoping that for once in his life the woman who’d given birth to him would look at him with any feeling other than hate. That he’d spent a week by his mother’s bedside, hoping for a morsel of affection, or regret for the way she’d callously discarded him.

  He’d somehow managed to keep his tortured thoughts to himself, but he could tell she’d sensed them, and she’d soothed his soul with the same soft kisses and caresses she gifted him with now.

  Then, as now, she’d given herself completely, despite not knowing any more than his first name.

  The need to unburden completely powered through him now, but he held himself back. She knew about his father partly through the need to furnish her with information about Lorenzo’s plans and partly because he’d let down his guard. But his mother was a different story.


  The secret shame that clawed through him had never abated, despite the years he’d spent in bitterness. After he’d buried his mother, he’d bricked away the pain, secure in the knowledge that she no longer had the power to hurt him with her rejection. He’d only ever felt those foundations crumble with Maisie. And her power over him wasn’t one he felt comfortable with. It spoke to a weakness he wasn’t ready to face.

  Shoving his unsettling thoughts back in the vault, he stared down and allowed himself to bask in her soft smile. The sex he could more than deal with, even if it came with a brief exposure of his soul. The benefits were worth it. More rewarding than securing the best business deal.

  ‘Should I be afraid of that smug smile you’re wearing right now?’ she asked, her voice slightly dazed and heavy with spent bliss.

  Arousal spiked again, the magic of her body transporting him into pleasure with blinding speed. Replacing the condom, he expertly reversed their positions, lying back to take in her goddess-like beauty.

  With her long, wet hair plastered to her golden skin, she truly looked like a wanton mermaid.

  ‘Sì, you’re about to make another of my fantasies come true.’ He cupped her heavy breasts, played his thumbs over the stiff peaks and felt her body quicken to his touch. He grew harder, need lashing through him as he watched her accept, then revel in, her new position.

  She tested the rhythm, quickly found one pleasing to them both and commenced a dance that had them gasping and groaning within minutes.

  He reached between them and found her heated centre. Playing his fingers expertly over her, he watched her throw back her head, her nails digging into his chest as she screamed her release.

  He followed gladly, eager to experience that piece of heaven again. Eager to leave behind hopes and yearnings that would never be fulfilled. He’d refused to wish after seeing each fragile desire turn to dust before his eyes as a child.

  But Maisie in his arms, in his bed, was an achievable goal. One he intended to hang on to for as long as he could.

  * * *

  Maisie awoke slowly, her senses grappling with the strange bed she slept in and the warm, solid body tangled around hers. Vague memories of being carried from the waterfall slid through her mind. She stirred and the heaviness of satiation moved through her limbs, bringing back wild and more vivid memories of last night.

  Opening her eyes to brilliant sunshine, she forced herself not to panic as the full realisation of what had happened reared up like a giant billboard in front of her.

  She’d given herself to Romeo. Not just her body, but her heart, her soul. She’d known right from the start that giving herself to him this time round would be her undoing. Heck, she’d told him as much!

  Just as she’d suspected when she’d promised she was his, she’d been making a declaration that went beyond sex. Each decision she’d taken when it came to her child and his father had been made from her heart. She just hadn’t been brave enough to admit it to herself. But now she knew.

  She was in love with Romeo Brunetti.

  Had probably fallen in love with him the moment she’d sat down across from him that day in Palermo.

  Her stomach clenched even as her heart accepted the deep, abiding truth. He was the reason she’d never paid another man any attention, had embraced motherhood without much of a thought for finding a father figure for her son. Deep down she’d known no one could come close to Romeo so she hadn’t even tried to replace him.

  And now... She breathed deep as her eyes fell on her wedding rings. Now, she could do nothing but brace herself for the agony to come. And it would come. Loving Romeo was her greatest risk and would bring the greatest consequence. Of that, she was certain.

  ‘Buon giorno, gattina.’ Strong fingers brushed her hair from her face and drew her back against the warm sheets. ‘What troubles you so much that you wake me with the power of your thoughts?’ he asked, his eyes probing hers with the sharpness of a scalpel.

  ‘Everything and nothing,’ she replied obliquely, desperately hoping to buy more time to compose herself.

  ‘An answer guaranteed to send a man into fits of puzzlement. Or the nearest jewellery store.’

  ‘Is that how you usually placate your other women?’ she asked, a sensation moving through her that she deciphered as deep jealousy.

  Intense eyes narrowed. ‘I wasn’t aware you needed placating. Perhaps you should tell me where I’ve misstepped?’

  She glanced away. ‘I don’t. You haven’t. Sorry, I was prying again.’

  Warm fingers captured her chin, a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘I guess it’s only fair, since I questioned you about past liaisons.’

  She shook her head, perversely wanting to know, but also desperate to live in denial. If only for a while longer. She chose the latter. ‘I don’t need a biography of your past conquests. I know enough to get that you have a healthy sexual appetite.’ A blush suffused her face and he slanted her a wicked grin.

  ‘Is that what concerns you?’

  She shook her head, but she couldn’t tell him, of course. Because that would be tantamount to shoving her heart underneath the wheels of a Sherman tank. So she went for the next best thing. ‘Why did you bring me to your bedroom? I wasn’t expecting to wake up here.’

  The smile left his face and that dark brooding look returned. ‘Why do you think?’ His voice pulsed with an emotion she couldn’t name.

  She pulled her lower lip into her mouth. ‘I thought last night was just...’ She paused. ‘I meant it when I said I don’t want this to get complicated.’

  Too late.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t salvage a little bit of dignity from the dire situation. Guard her heart from more pulverising down the road.

  ‘So your itch has been scratched and you’re ready to put it all behind you?’ he queried in a dark, dangerous voice, throwing her own words back in her face.

  ‘I didn’t expect it to last beyond last night. Isn’t that your record?’

  ‘I see we’re back to past conquests again.’

  ‘Romeo—’

  ‘No, you listen. Last night barely dented the depth of my need. And if you’re truthful, you’ll admit the same. I brought you to my bed because this is where you belong. You can protest as much as you want and we can go back to circling each other until we drive each other insane, or you can choose to admit your feelings and take what you want.’

  She opened her mouth, intent on denying everything he’d said. On doing the right thing. Getting up, walking back to her own room. To her painfully lonely bed. And more nights filled with the vicious ache of wanting him.

  But the words died in her throat. Denying herself suddenly felt like the opposite of the right thing. As if saying the words out loud would be like slicing a knife into her arms and opening her veins. Sure, there was a life of desolation waiting for her once she walked away from him, but there was no need to start the torture now.

  She stared up at him, at the vitality of the body caging hers, the need blazing in his eyes, and resolved to just be for now.

  ‘Will you stay?’ he pressed.

  Slowly, she nodded. ‘Yes, I will.’

  He proceeded to show her the true meaning of good morning. And she gave herself over to the incandescent sensation.

  She was still smiling four mornings later, even as she studiously ignored the tiny voice that called her ten kinds of a fool.

  They rose, showered together, their hands and lips revelling in the newness of just being together without tension. Oh, the sexual tension was ever-present. It barely left them alone and Maisie was beginning to doubt it ever would. But there was an ease between them that tugged at her heart when Romeo smiled at her and walked her to her room so she could get dressed.

  He lounged in the doorway of her dressing room, his eyes
wickedly intent on her body as she pulled on panties and a bra, and slid her white shift dress over her head.

  After slipping her feet into heeled sandals, she took his outstretched hand and they left the room.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked him.

  He nodded, although his throat moved in a hard swallow. ‘Yes, it’s time to tell him.’

  As they reached the stairs, she glanced at him and was shocked to see that, for the first time since she’d known him, Romeo looked nervous. Vulnerable.

  ‘Are you okay?’ she asked as they descended the stairs and headed towards the kitchen, where Lucca could be heard chattering away to Mahina and Emily.

  Romeo gave a strangled laugh. ‘It’s not every day I tell an almost-four-year-old boy I’m his papà.’

  Her hand closed on his and drew him to a stop. Standing on tiptoe, she offered what she’d intended to be a supportive kiss.

  His hands locked on her hips, and he slammed her back against the wall to deepen the kiss. He kissed her as if trying to draw sustenance from her. By the time they pulled apart several minutes later, they were both breathing hard. His eyes were needy pools, searching and a little lost.

  She placed her hand on his cheek, her heart melting when he cupped it and pressed it deeper into his skin. ‘You’ll be fine. He adores you as much as you do him.’

  His head dipped as if he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with the alien feeling of being the object of a child’s adoration. ‘Grazie,’ he finally murmured. When he raised his head, the confident, virile man had slid back. ‘Let’s do this.’

  He tugged her after him, and they entered the kitchen together.

  Ten minutes later, in the privacy of Romeo’s study, Lucca stared at his father from the safety of his perch on his mother’s lap. Then his gaze moved to her face and back to Romeo’s, his eyes wide, hazel saucers. ‘You’re my daddy?’ he asked in hushed awe.