Catering to the Italian Playboy (10 page)

“Try me.”

Max’s eyes shuttered and a note of steel entered his voice. “It’s personal. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”

Sophie arched a brow. “Trust you? Fat chance. You don’t trust me enough to even tell me what is so important about this property that you’d pay any price to have it
and
twist arms to do it, yet I’m supposed to blindly trust you? Fall into bed and pretend everything is just dandy?”
Not a chance, buster.

“Sleeping together has nothing to do with my business.”

“It has to do with trust. I don’t sleep with men I don’t trust and I sure don’t get involved with them.”

Max set his jaw. “There isn’t any involvement, Sophie. It is a night or two of mutual pleasure between two consenting adults. I never promised you more than that. I thought I made myself clear.”

His words slapped her in the face like a bucket of popsicles. The very sour lemon kind. He was right. He’d never offered her anything more than pleasurable sex – okay, more like out-of-this-world ecstasy – yet somehow without realizing it she
had
expected more from him. She
needed
more from him. Maybe not flowers and candy and a home with a white picket fence, but she needed
something
from him.

A little trust would have been nice.

Sophie’s shoulders sagged. “You’re right. You did make yourself clear. I just assumed there would be mutual trust.”

“I don’t trust easily.” Max plowed a hand through his hair. “It’s not you, I promise. It’s me.”

“But, you expect me to trust you. Does that seem logical to you?”

“No.” Max smiled ruefully. “I can see your point, but I’ve never been one to put trust into much of anything except myself.”

“Maybe you should give it a try?” Sophie suggested softly. “I don’t even know anything about you other than the fact you own several hotels and you are the father of my son.”

“Our son.” Max expelled a resigned sigh. “What would you like to know?”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Northern Italy.”

“School?”

“A strict Catholic school. I’m sure the nuns were as glad to see me go as I was to leave.”

“You were a trouble maker?” Sophie guessed.

His brows drew together in a formidable frown. “Let’s just say I had my own way of doing things.”

Sophie bit back a smile.
I’ll bet
. That stubborn side of his probably gave the nuns fits. They’re probably still saying
Hail Mary’s
and singing praises that he is gone.

“How did you end up here in New York?”

Max swallowed hard. “I worked hard for many years then finally caught a lucky break. I was in the right place at the right time for a change.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?” She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. She wanted details.

Max’s eyes bored into her for a moment. She could see the struggle within. He didn’t like to talk about himself. That was plain to see. But she didn’t break his gaze. She wanted –
no needed
– to know more about him. His eyes darkened, then as if he knew she wouldn’t let it go, he expelled another sigh and continued. “In my early twenties I worked as a concierge in one of the hotels in Florence to put myself through college. It was long hours and hard work since I carried a full load in college as well, but the owner of the hotel liked my business sense. He often asked for my opinion and followed my suggestions. After I graduated he offered me a small partnership of sorts if I agreed to run the hotel he was building here in New York. Naturally, I jumped at the chance. Over the years I was able to prove myself and negotiate more and more of the company. When my partner died, I bought out his part of the New York hotel from the family, made a few changes and renamed the hotel The Rinaldi Resort. Thankfully, the venture proved successful and I’ve opened a few other hotels across the country.”

Sophie smiled. “You really were in the right place at the right time. What about your family? Do they live here in New York too?”

Even in the soft yellow hue of the dimly lit room, Sophie could see the flash of pain flicker in his eyes. It was gone in an instant. He clenched his jaw, his tone flat. “I don’t have a family.”

Sophie’s heart split.
He didn’t have a family? Nobody?
“What hap–”

“Look, I understand what you are trying to do, but I learned a long time ago not to expect anything from anyone and not to depend on anyone except myself. It is how I got where I am today. I don’t have a family. Never have. It’s not something I care to discuss so let’s leave it at that.”

Disappointment pooled in her stomach. He was shutting down again. She’d learned all he was willing to share about himself and it wasn’t much.

Max shoved his hand deep in his trousers and rocked back on his heels. “Look, I don’t make promises I can’t keep and I always keep the ones I make. I can’t offer you anything other than a night or two of great sex.” A smile hovered along his sensuous mouth then he abruptly frowned. “I don’t do commitments and I never will. And as far as my business goes, I do what I have to do. Sometimes it means being ruthless and twisting arms. That doesn’t mean I enjoy it; it’s just a means to an end.” Steel gray eyes searched hers. Questioning. “I still want to make love to you, Sophie. You’re a beautiful woman and I want you. If you’d rather not, I understand. I’m just putting it out there. Take it or leave it.”

Take it or leave it.

Now, there’s a line meant to get a girl’s heart racing.

She
should
leave it, of course. It was the sensible thing to do.

And she
was
a sensible girl.

Usually.

But…

Sophie bit the inside of her lip. Max was everything she didn’t want in a man – not even for a night or two – but her treacherous body begged to differ. With his liquid silver gaze pouring over her, she tingled in places she hadn’t acknowledged in years. Places which would really love a little recognition about right now.

A few hours ago she’d been ready do the skin-to-skin tango with him, but after witnessing first hand his hard ruthless side, she wasn’t so sure it was the smart thing to do. No. She
knew
it wasn’t the smart thing to do, and if she had a shred of dignity left in her, she’d turn him down flat and run for the hills. He promised her nothing, would probably stampede all over her heart if she let him and yet she still wanted to march right up to his penthouse and have her way with him.

Maybe if she kept things in perspective, had no expectations, and just savored the moment for what it was it wouldn’t matter. She didn’t have to form a relationship with him for Pete’s sake. What difference did it make if he was ruthless, calculating and completely off limits? What difference did it make if he was just like her father? She didn’t have to get involved with him. As a matter of fact, he made it clear there would be no involvement. So if he could rock her world a couple of times then so be it. A girl has needs too.

Sophie stole a glance at Max. The second her eyes clapped onto his gorgeous silver orbs his flared with an intimate knowing look and his sensuous mouth turned up in that oh-so sexy smile. She promptly lost the battle with her dignity.

No expectations, girl. Just a little fun.

Sophie squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and looked Max in the eye. “I’ll take it.”

** EIGHT **

A sense of
deja vu
settled over Sophie the minute they stepped inside the elevator. Memories of hot kisses and even hotter touches flooded her mind. Max must have felt it too because he arched a dark brow and gave her a quirky grin as he inserted his key into the slot and punched twelve. The elevator jerked once then began its assent toward the penthouse suite.

Sophie’s heart pummeled against her ribs. She backed against the cold silver wall feeling a bit like a caged animal and held her breath. Max descended on her like a big cat cornering its prey. Sleek. Determined. Agile. And oh-so-dangerous!

“I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he whispered, lowering his head. Firm, wet lips as swift and demanding as the arms that swept her against him crushed hers and offered pleasure beyond her wildest imagination.

“Max…” The breathy plea shuddered through her lips.

His deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue deep inside the warm crevice of her mouth, teasing her tongue with his and exploring her innermost needs. Sophie breathed in his taste. Whiskey, coke and pure over-the-edge-to-die-for man.

Just when she thought she’d never breathe again, he lifted his head and muttered hoarsely, “We need a faster elevator.” He jerked her closer, pressing her breasts against the hard wall of his chest. Her nipples tightened as his need pulsed against her leg sending shivers of delight through her skin.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the top floor for your suite,” Sophie suggested, kissing his neck.

“I could punch the stop button.”

“No you can’t.” She trailed her lips to his ear, nibbled a kissed on the lobe and delighted in the power of her touch as a small moan burst from his throat. “We don’t have protection.” She raised her head and tilted it to the side to look at him. “Unless you’re packing?”

“Not with me. No.” He slid his arms around her back, down past her buttocks to her thighs. He lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he pushed her back against the silver wall. A devilish dark brow winged up. “Maybe we could–”

“No way. We’ll wait. I’m not taking any chances this time.” Sophie arched her neck so she could see the numbers on the panel light up. Seven… Eight…

Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

Nine… Ten… God what
was
he doing to her neck?

Eleven…

“Almost there.” Was that her voice all husky and breathless?

The elevator dinged.

Finally.

The doors slid open with a whoosh and Max carried her, legs still wrapped around his waist, across the thick carpeted hall to his penthouse door. Balancing her in his arms, he fumbled with the card key until the door to his suite opened.

With three long strides he deposited her on the bed and sank down beside her. The mattress dipped with his weight causing her to roll toward him. He leaned over and pinned her hands to the bed. The smoldering flame in his dark gray eyes made her stomach flip. Then flop. “Now I can make you mine.” The velvety promise slid from his lips as he nibbled kisses along her neck.

“Not so fast.” Sophie wriggled free and gave him what she hoped was a stern look. “First things first. We need the glove.” Not that it did a whole lot of good the last time, but she hoped the planets were lined up just so and the odds were in her favor this round. Not that she was into astronomy or anything, but every little bit helped.

Max groaned and dropped a kiss on her stomach where her blouse had ridden up to reveal the creamy flesh beneath. “Be right back.” He slid off the bed and disappeared through French doors into the adjoining bathroom. Metal clanged. Papers rustled. Something crashed and Max let out a colorful explicative before finally emerging triumphantly with the box of condoms.

Sophie sucked in a gasp. Were they going to need the whole box? Anticipation pooled in her core and excitement tingled over every nerve ending in her body. She certainly hoped so.

“No more distractions.” He loosened his tie and flung it across the room. “I want to savor every inch of you.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She swallowed hard as he removed his shirt. Dark hair covered his chest and trailed into a delightful vee at his waistband. “A very good plan.”

Max’s lips quirked into a sexy grin. “I thought so.” His trousers hit the floor and he stepped out of them. Clad only in boxers he strode across the room to stand in front of her. The growing bulge beneath the black cotton material was hard to ignore. Sophie swallowed again.

“You seem overdressed for this party. Let me help you with that.” His silky tone curdled her insides. Max leaned over and unbuttoned the top button of her shirt, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin beneath. Sophie shivered. Then he unbuttoned the second one. Then…

Sophie’s breath caught. Remember girl, no expectations. Just a little fun.

The third button popped open to reveal the swell of her breast against the lacy fabric of her pale purple bra. Her nipples hardened as heat surged to their peaks. Max lowered himself to the bed, straddling her with his arms to hold his weight, and took a nibble of the creamy flesh bursting from the inner side of the bra. Sophie ran her  fingers down his arms. His biceps quivered beneath her tips and she relished in the sense of womanly power.

Max’s teeth grazed her flesh, igniting her body like a four- alarm fire. Sophie let out a soft cry of delight as he took another nibble.

“Too many damn clothes,” Max muttered, yanking her shirt apart in one swift jerk. Buttons missiled across the room like bottle rockets, but the only fireworks she noticed were the ones exploding inside her. Her mind didn’t even take time to register the fact he’d just ruined a perfectly good shirt.

He deftly unhooked the front clasp of her bra. Her full breasts, firm and throbbing, bounced out of their constraints and begged for his touch. Max’s eyes widened then feasted on her creamy mounds. “
Dio, cara!
You are exquisite.” He lowered his head and licked a soft delicious path to one pink tip.

Sophie gasped, then stroked his head, tangling her hands in the dark at the nape of his neck. She tightened her grip as fire blazed a trail along her skin where his lips teased. Max flicked his tongue over her nipple drawing another cry from Sophie. “Please … Max…”

“Please what,
cara
? This…?” He raised his head, gray eyes tempestuous as a summer storm bored into hers. He shifted on the bed to rest his weight on one elbow then used his other hand to circle the rosy peak with his thumb. She tingled all the way to her core, her need for him naked and raw beneath his gaze. “Or this…?” He ducked his head, fastened his warm lips onto the bud and suckled. His hand slid down her quivering stomach, unsnapped her slacks and tugged her zipper down. She lifted her hips. He shifted on the bed again and in one deft movement her slacks were on the floor. Then ever so slowly he brushed his fingers across the wisp of purple lace covering her intimate area.