Forbidden Kiss (10 page)

He got her attention. Her lapis colored eyes, swirling with frustration, cleared. “What are you saying? That the paintings belong to you? Is that why you’re after them?”

A sudden motion some distance over Jule’s left shoulder caught Rom’s attention. He watched as a man bent to retrieve his lost glasses and straightened, putting them back on. His back was to Rom, but something about the rigid stance and the perfect alignment of the shoulders seemed familiar.

The man walked around the fountain in the piazza, keeping his back to Rom, pretending to be absorbed in the cheap souvenirs on display in the vendors’ carts. But the small furtive movements of his eyes told Rom he was watching the surrounding crowd. Looking for someone.

“Hello! I’m still here,” Jule waved, snagging his attention.

He slipped back into the conversation, but kept an eye on the man. “I don’t have a claim on any of the art outside the fact that the subject matter deals with people in my family’s history.”

“Oh.” Jule looked away, chewed her bottom lip. She watched the barista make espressos behind the copper-topped counter for several seconds while Rom kept track of the mystery man.

“Your painting. You know who the dead couple was?”

The man turned to hold a small piece of stained glass to the light and Rom saw his face. Pio Mascaro.

“Not here,” he said sharply. “Come back to my rooms and we can talk further.”

She laughed. “You’re amazing. You can’t really expect me to fall for such a thinly veiled proposition?”

Mascaro put the souvenir back and moved closer to their table. He would spot Rom in another couple of minutes. He was still a good couple hundred feet away, but even sitting Rom still towered over the other people.

“I don’t play games, Jule.” He thought about the bruises on her neck. Again the urge to kill Mascaro teased his consciousness.

“What’s wrong with right here?” she demanded.

“You’ve never done this before and to keep both of our asses out of an Italian jail, we should go over how we’re going to get in and more importantly, out.”

And he didn’t want her going back to her hotel on the chance Mascaro knew to look for her there.

She took another sip of her water and considered his logic. Mascaro dipped behind a vendor folding his cart up for the night and Rom lost track of him.

Hell.

“We have another few hours before we even begin to think about heading over there. Let’s spend it someplace warm.”

With a grim smile, Jule nodded reluctantly.

He paid the check and searched for Mascaro’s gray form among the vendors’ carts. There he was. On the opposite side of the street, admiring jewelry in a storefront.

Mascaro wasn’t getting her this time.

Or ever again.

Chapter Thirteen

Jule couldn’t stop thinking about his protectiveness. His refusal to let her enter the museum alone and gamble her freedom.

The knowledge created warmth in her chest, spreading outward until it tingled even her fingertips. With her body humming, she noticed his hands. Wrapped around the small espresso cup, lying flat on the table, or hanging relaxed by his side, they were big, sensuous, and a serious turn on. She wanted to feel those hands on her. Stroking, teasing, caressing.

“Do you have warmer clothes?”

His question took a full minute to register and when it did, she nearly tripped trying to recover.

“Oh. Yes. I do, back at my hotel.”

“I’ll send someone for your things when we get back to my place.”

She thought about the black lace bra and matching panties packed in her travel case. Wouldn’t he be surprised if she stepped out of the bathroom dressed only in that?

She smiled at the imagined look on his face.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in some time,” Rom said.

She glanced up at him, going slightly gooey at the warmth in his voice. Was he thinking of her in panties too?

“There hasn’t been a lot to be happy about lately.”

Understatement.

“But now there is?” He peeled his gaze from the people on the street and examined her face as if trying to read her inner thoughts.

“Let’s just say I’ll be happy to get this over with.” And back to normal life. Though she would miss the possibility of mind-blowing sex.

Rom stepped in close to allow another couple to pass on the sidewalk, his hand falling to the small of her back. The feeling melted her insides and made her knees wobble.

God, what a mess she was. A constant conflict of emotions pulling her this way and that. Rom. Family. Duty. For once in her lifetime, she desired to throw off the obligations and do whatever she wanted. To be vulnerable and courageous enough to allow someone else to see her,
the real Jule
.

“So this is your place?” she said when they stopped in front of a plain three-story residence. Faded frescoes decorated the uppermost story, hinting at the once colorful and opulent façade. Weather and age had conspired to dim its greatness, but Jule could well imagine the former glory.

“I’m on the third floor,” Rom said reaching for the latch.

Jule passed through one half of the arched door, feeling at once protected and intimidated by the heavy wood closing the interior courtyard off from the rest of the city.

Rom hesitated outside, once again surveying the street. Something about his behavior triggered a memory, but before she could recall it, he distracted her.

“It’s just me here now. The other families are on holiday.”

A shiver of excitement snaked up her spine. All alone.

She followed him through the courtyard and inside, up a set of stairs to the third floor. Watching the play of muscles as he climbed was enough to turn her face red.

Rom unlocked another door and ushered her through. “Your face is red. Get inside and remove your coat, you’ll warm up quicker.”

Jeez, he thought her face was chapped from the cold.

Turning to face him immediately, coat still buttoned tightly, Jule talked before she lost her nerve. “I don’t know what’s happening here.”

He raised an eyebrow in question, and closed the door, locking it.

“I mean, why you asked me up here. If you think we’re going to have sex, well, I could be convinced. I’m attracted to you. To tell you the truth—and damn it, I can’t help but get this off my chest no matter how ridiculous it sounds—I’ve thought about it. A lot. But what would it mean? I don’t know a thing about you.”

He took off his leather coat and tossed it on the back of the nearby settee. He advanced on her, heat in his eyes.

“What I’m saying is that although sex would probably be great, I don’t think it would be beneficial to either of us at this point.”

He reached a hand behind her neck and pulled her in, the other lifting to rub a finger along her lips. “Jule, I swear to you, I’m not after anything. Not even sex.”

She tried to turn away to hide her embarrassment, but his hands held her steady.

“Let me finish.”

She forced herself to look him in the face.

“The lies I told were not intended for you. Certainly not ever meant to hurt you. If they did, and now I see they have, I am truly sorry.”

God help her, she believed him. Again.

She closed her eyes, nodding, not trusting her voice.

His lips touched hers lightly, a feather caress that comforted as much as it stroked the fire igniting in her core.

The kiss spiraled out, his lips paying homage to the tip of her nose, her cheeks, and her closed eyes, and finally her forehead. Jule didn’t realize his lips had left her face until his arms pressed her tightly to him.

“I can’t say I don’t want to make love to you, Jule, because I am completely consumed by you. But I don’t want to do anything else to compromise your trust.”

He pulled away, holding her at arm’s length so she would meet his gaze.

“Your smile is so beautiful. It lights up your eyes and creates a halo of purity and happiness surrounding you. I don’t want to be responsible for changing that.”

Lord, the man knew the right thing to say. If she experienced any reluctance, it moved into the past.

Slowly, without breaking eye contact, Jule unbuttoned her coat, letting it hit the floor at her feet. Next came her sweater and matching wool skirt, followed by her boots.

Rom reached a hand out to stroke each new piece of skin as it was revealed. She stood before him in her matching peach camisole and high cut panties. Not black lace, but she felt beautiful anyway.

His eyes, his hands, hell, his very presence built a fire so hot inside her, Jule thought she might orgasm at the slightest touch.

“I’ve never felt this way before. Not with boyfriends or my ex. Just you. I want to find out if making love is as mind blowing as the foreplay.”

His hand cupped her chin while his thumb stroked her chin. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He scooped her out of her pile of discarded clothing and walked through the apartment. Jule didn’t see a thing except his warm smile and hungry eyes until they reached a bedroom.

He set her on her feet near the bed and slid his strong arms around her, the glide of his black cashmere sweater against her bare skin wonderful and erotic.

“If you want to stop, tell me,” he whispered against her neck.

Jule leaned into him, circling his neck with her arms and letting him know, in no uncertain terms, she wanted to continue.

He kissed her. Branded her.

Deception and doubt fell away as her body took over and her mind opened to the experience. It couldn’t be more right, this meeting of their bodies.

Her hands slipped from his neck and glided down to his shoulders and over his chest. The bond she had imagined between them fell satisfyingly into place and Jule knew,
knew
, she was home.

“Rom,” she murmured as he lowered her to the bed, and then pulled away to shed cashmere and pants. He moved quickly to the dresser and slipped something inside the top drawer. Jule caught the glint of light on steel and flinched unconsciously.

Now was not the time to engage in another discussion of Rom’s dagger, especially considering the outcome of their previous talk. Jule filed it away in her mind under later. Much later.

For now she was busy watching his body move.

The fading winter light crept into the bedroom through the slats in the window shutters, playing a game of divide and conquer on his unbelievable physique.

Her mouth watered as he returned and placed a naked knee on the bed, nudging her own knees apart. A tight abdomen rippled down to tapered hips and muscular thighs as he bent and grasped the waistband of her panties.

Jule couldn’t take her eyes from his arousal. The hard length pulsed, quickening her breath in time. Tentatively, she reached out a hand and wrapped it around him.

She was rewarded by a low groan on the heels of a sharp intake of breath.

Rom dragged the fabric down her legs and tossed it behind him where it floated to the floor, hitting as his hands skated up under her camisole and palmed her breasts.

“Perfect,” he murmured.

Jule parroted his description back, skimming her fingers up his length until they danced over the sensitive skin on the tip.

She wanted to take him in her mouth, roll her tongue around him, but first…

She gripped the hem of her camisole and whipped the silk over her head, throwing it who knew where.

Rom reached for her and Jule drew him in, wanting to experience his nakedness up close and very personal.

“This feels so good,” she gasped as he lowered his weight onto her pelvis and thighs.

He laughed, a close-mouthed throaty laugh that made Jule wet and tingly. “My feelings exactly,” he said, dropping his head to her collarbone to nuzzle her neck.

He moved his warm hands along her shoulders and down her sides with a deliberate caress that pebbled her nipples painfully tight. He plunged his hands under her backside and when her bottom rested comfortably in his two palms, he lifted her pelvis a few degrees until she came into direct contact with his arousal.

His lips found a nipple, which elicited a small cry from Jule. “God. Yes. Please.”

He rocked gently between her legs while his mouth and tongue honored her breasts with the attention they deserved.

His eyes reflected the dying light and the heat of their passion. She saw herself in his eyes and just like that, Jule knew her life would never be the same again.

“If you’re going to change your mind, Jule, now’s the time to do it. Much longer and I couldn’t stop if I wanted.” His voice thickened with each word and Jule felt a corresponding throbbing between her legs.

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I’m in. Just please don’t stop.”
Ever
. The silent word echoed in her head.

He rolled off and opened a drawer, returning quickly with a condom. He tore the package open and Rom eased the plastic circle out.

Jule laid her hand over his. “Let me?”

A slow smile spread across his face. The first honest to God smile Jule had ever seen. She almost wept at the transformation. He was unbearably beautiful.

Her hands shook as she took the condom and eased down the front of his body. When she straddled his thighs, she bent her head and a curtain of hair shielded her from his view.

But instead of rolling the condom down his erection, she took him in her mouth. He grunted in surprise and seized her shoulders between his marvelous hands, his fists curling around shoulder and strands of her hair.

“Christ,” he gasped as she licked him from base to tip. What was it he had said? Ah, yes. Her feelings exactly.

Jule couldn’t believe how powerful he felt under her hands and mouth. His body hummed with contained force and tension, spiking her desire to new heights. She was coming undone.

He thrust up and she took him deeper in her mouth, exhilarating in his swallowed cry. He pumped his hips as she stroked him with her lips and tongue. But then he pulled back and eased her mouth away.

“Better than I imagined. Come here.”

Jule let him lay her back onto the bed. “You’ve had fantasies of me going down on you?” Disbelief evident in her voice.

“Hell, yes.” He chuckled. Then his hands were on her, all over.

Jule didn’t know what to expect when he finally covered her and slid inside, hot and thick, but it wasn’t the total sense of completion that swept her home.

She cried out as her body convulsed, but she held on, wrapping her legs around his waist and pressing him closer.

He captured her shout of release in his mouth and thrust deeper, sending her to the edge and beyond.

But he didn’t let her slide lazily into bliss. He took her higher, again and again.

Jule didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Rom shuddered inside her and rolled over, cradling her to his chest.

“Jule. Jule. Jule,” he whispered in her hair, all the while stroking her spine. They lay with arms and legs entwined and Jule took comfort from his silent strength until she could talk.

“Did I hurt you?”

She raised her head, but couldn’t see his face; darkness had fully descended.

“No. Just the opposite,” she breathed, trying to put the feeling into words.

Rom reached to turn on the bedside lamp and Jule shut her eyes until they adjusted. When she opened them, she looked into the warmest shade of night sky eyes she’d ever seen. It was like lying on the ground during the heat of summer, looking upwards towards the heavens.

She was in deep. No doubt about.

Jule sat up, hoping some physical distance might clear her head.

“What’s that?” Rom asked, his head resting on a nest of pillows.

Jule glanced down to find his eyes riveted to her chest scar.

She smoothed the scar unconsciously, wondering if he found it distasteful. The size of a quarter, it peeked out from under her left breast.

“I impaled myself on a freshly cut branch falling out of Angelo’s treehouse when I was eight.”

Rom sat up and gently moved her breast, exposing the scar fully to the light. He didn’t speak for several heartbeats. And still didn’t as he left the bed.

Jule watched as he crossed to the dresser and opened a drawer. He removed something and when he turned, Jule saw he held his dagger.

…

Heaven is here, where Juliet lives.

It couldn’t be. It simply could not be. After all this time. He’d found her.

Juliet.

He’d been with her for over a week and never seen it, until now. But all the signs were there if he only looked.

Jule Casale had a scar where Juliet would have, had she lived. She knew his dagger and panicked when saw it. She lay in his bed, keeping company with him, despite the cost to herself and family.

She was his Juliet. Reborn.

It blew all theories of coincidence to hell and Rom didn’t believe in coincidences anyway.