The Moretti Heir (4 page)

But there was little he could do to protect himself against her. She wanted nothing more than this night in his arms—and his sperm.

She felt cold and calculating, thinking the words. She knew that every night millions of people had one-night stands and it meant nothing.

But she didn’t. She had been pretty sheltered all of her life. After being told early on that love and romance were not in the cards for her, she’d become determined to find a way to make her romantic dreams come true.

She knew that her motivation for being here was breaking the Moretti curse. But when he’d described her just a moment ago, talked about a beauty she just couldn’t see when she looked in a mirror, she felt as if this encounter meant more than she knew.

She felt as if Marco wasn’t just the means to an end. That he wasn’t just another victim of a long ago, bitter love feud between their families…felt as if he could be the man who would make her fall in love with him.

And love for Festa women wasn’t a good thing.

“Virginia?”

She shook her head to clear it. Glanced up at the moon and gathered the strength she needed to forget about consequences and right and wrong. For this one night, she wanted to just enjoy the moment with this man.

“I’m not leaving,” she said.

He smiled at her, and she realized just what true male beauty was. It was his smile when he looked at her.

“Are we going to just stand here and wait for sunrise?” she asked.

“Not at all. I thought we could sit in the hot tub and relax. Enjoy the champagne and the rest of the evening.”

The warmth of his hand on the center of her back and the low thrum of the hot tub located on the end of the balcony settled her nerves. She let go of all the planning and concentrated on the fact that she was here with a charming and sexy man.

“I’d like that,” she said.

“There’s a changing room over there stocked with robes,” Marco said, his voice deep and dark in the moonlit night. He gestured to the small building next to the tub.

Having spent most of her adult life waiting for this exact moment, she knew it was time for her to act. But action was the one thing that had always scared her. Her grandmother had loved Lorenzo Moretti and that single act had completely ruined Cassia’s life.

Perhaps sensing her unease, Marco said, “Do you know about the stars?”

“What?”

“The stories of the different stars and why the constellations fill the sky,” he said. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he led her to a double lounge chair and gestured for her to sit down.

She did, and Marco sat down next to her. He put his arm around her shoulder and shifted until she was lying next to him with her head on his shoulder.

She looked at him and knew without a doubt that he had sensed her keyed-up nerves. And she wondered if this was a sign from the universe that she should give up on her plan. Was there a side effect she’d missed when she’d determined the way to break the curse on their families was by getting pregnant with Marco’s child?

“The sky is different here,” Marco said. “In the Northern Hemisphere, where we both live, you can never see the Southern Cross.”

She stopped worrying about seduction and relaxed against him. “I had heard that. Where is the Southern Cross?”

He pointed at the sky. “Right there…do you see it?”

Her gaze followed the line of his arm, and she saw four stars in a diamond shape in the sky. The Southern Cross. “Does it have a legend with it, like Orion or Sirius?”

“Not really. Because it is visible only from the Southern Hemisphere, we have no Greek or Roman legends associated with it.”

“What is that constellation?” she asked pointing to another one.

“That is Leo. Egyptian priests used to be able to predict when the Nile would flood based on its position in the sky.”

He talked about other constellations and she began to see beyond the international celebrity race car driver to the man beneath. He was used to moving in a world of privilege and wealth, yet tonight he was just a man.

“How did you become interested in stars?”

“My father. He isn’t into racing or cars…not the way a Moretti should be.” He turned on the lounge chair so that he was leaning over her. “But he loves legends and the past…he has spent a lot of his life reading about stories of old.”

“Where are your parents now?”

“In San Giuliano Milanese. It’s where our family home is.”

“Are you close to your parents?” she asked.

“In some ways. I’ve always shared a love of the night sky with my father. When I was younger, most of my time alone with him was spent outside at night, looking through the lens of his telescope.”

Being an only child, she’d had too much time alone with her mother, who had been very sad most of the time.

“Why didn’t your father like cars?” she asked. She knew that Giovanni Moretti was rumored to have been too easygoing to run the big automotive company. That he wasn’t interested in business…only in making love to his wife.

“He liked them, he just loved my mother more. So business didn’t hold his interest.”

“Yet, it does hold yours,” she said.

“Tonight I can see why my father was distracted,” Marco said.

She thought she saw surprise in his eyes as he revealed that, but he recovered quickly, leaning in close to kiss her. His kiss was soft and slow, one of seduction rather than full-out passion.

He swept his hand down the side of her body, un-erringly finding the zipper in the side of her dress. Instead of unfastening it, he simply traced his finger over the seam.

His mouth moved along her jawline with small, nibbling kisses, then dipped lower to caress the length of her neck. She shifted in his arms, trying to bring her body into full contact with his as he continued to tease her.

Her breasts felt sensitive and the skin of her arm beaded with goose bumps as he continued to move his hand over her body. She wanted more.

But he couldn’t walk away from Virginia. He surprised himself with the depth of the need he had for her. Still, if he made this about the physical, then his emotions would recede and she would be nothing more than a passionate memory for him to look back on, years from now.

The rich darkness of her hair contrasted with the creamy whiteness of her skin. He drew down the zipper at the side of her body and watched as the sky-blue material gaped open. He slipped his hand under the fabric and touched her skin.

Her breath caught and she shifted in his arms, turning on her side so they were now facing each other. He reached between them and drew her hands up to the first button on his shirt.

Staring into her wide, chocolate-colored eyes, he saw the shyness that was so much a part of her melt away as her fingers brushed against his chest.

Blood rushed through his veins, pooling in his groin and hardening him as she started unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers were cool against his skin as she worked her way down his body. When she finished unbuttoning the shirt she pushed it open and he shrugged out of it.

He growled when she leaned forward to brush kisses against his chest. Her lips were soft and not shy as she explored his torso, and he felt the edge of her teeth graze his pecs.

He watched her, his eyes narrowing and his pants feeling damned uncomfortable. Her tongue darted out and brushed his nipple. He canted his hips forward and put his hand on the back of her head, urging her to stay where she was.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, one finger tracing over the scar under his left nipple.

“Tony pushed me out of the fig tree in the backyard when I was eight and I landed on a hoe that the gardener had left lying on the ground.”

“Did it hurt?” she asked. She braced one hand on his chest as she leaned over him.

He shifted under her and lifted her in his arms so that she straddled him. He leaned up and kissed her lips. “At the time it hurt very much.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning down to lave the spot with her tongue. “I have a scar, too.”

“Where?” he asked.

She blushed and then shrugged her shoulders, pulling her right arm out of the dress. The bodice loosened and the other sleeve slid down her left arm until the dress pooled at her waist. She wore those strapless bra cups that were clear in color. He could see all of her breasts and yet as he reached up to touch them, he felt only fabric and not the sweetness of her flesh.

“The scar isn’t on my boobs,” she said, with a little laugh. “No?”

“No,” she said. “It’s here.”

She pointed to her right side an inch below her breasts. It was long, almost two inches, and had faded with time. “How did you get this?” he asked, stroking a finger down the length of it. She shivered in his arms and rocked against him. His erection twitched against her core.

“Trying to climb into the window of our house. My mom locked the keys inside.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He lifted his hips to tip her body toward him. He found the scar with his lips and rubbed his hands over her naked back, enjoying the feel of this warm woman in his arms.

She put her hands on his shoulders and eased her way down his chest. She traced the muscles of his abdomen and then slowly made her way lower. He could feel his heartbeat in his erection and he knew he was going to lose control if he didn’t slow things down.

But another part of him wanted to just sit back and let her have her way with him. When she reached the edge of his pants, she stopped and glanced up his body to his face.

Her hand brushed over his straining length. He removed the bra she still wore and then lifted her up so that her nipples brushed his chest.

“Hmm…that feels so good,” she said.

“Does it?”

“Yes.”

Blood roared in his ears. He was so hard, so full right now that he needed to be inside of her body. But he had to take care of details first.

“
Cara mia,
I hate to ask this, but are you on the pill?”

She pulled back for a second. “I’m…yes.”

“You are taking the pill?” he asked.

She nodded. “And I don’t have anything else you need to worry about. What about you?”

“I’m clean.”

“Good,” she said.

He pulled her closer and kissed her until she relaxed. Then, impatient with the fabric of her dress, he shoved it up to her waist. He caressed her creamy thighs. God, she was soft. She moaned as he neared her center and then sighed when he brushed his fingertips across the crotch of her panties.

The lace was warm and wet. He slipped one finger under the material and hesitated for a second, looking up into her eyes.

They were heavy-lidded. She bit down on her lower lip and he felt the minute movements of her hips as she tried to move his touch where she needed it.

He pushed the fabric of her panties aside and lightly traced the opening of her body. She was so ready for him. It was only the fact that he wanted to bring her to climax at least once before he entered her body that enabled him to keep his own needs in check.

She shifted against him and he entered her body with just the tip of one finger. He teased them both with a few short thrusts.

“Marco…” she said, her voice breathless and airy.

“Yes,
mi’angela?
”

“I need more.”

“Is this better?” he asked, pushing his finger deep inside of her.

“Yes,” she said. Her hips rocked against his finger for a few strokes before she once again needed more.

“Marco, please.”

He pulled his finger from her body and traced it around her pulsing center of her need. Her eyes widened and she moved frantically against him. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his cheek as she braced her hands on the back of the lounge chair.

He turned his head and drew one beaded nipple into his mouth, suckling her deeply as he plunged two fingers into her body. He kept his thumb on her center and worked his fingers until she threw her head back and called his name.

He felt her tighten around his fingers. She kept rocking against him for a few more seconds and then collapsed.

He tipped her head toward his so he could taste her mouth. He told himself to take it slowly, that Virginia wasn’t used to him. But one taste of her lips and he was out of control.

He kissed her and held her at his mercy, caressing her back and spine, scraping his nails down the line of her back down the indentation above her buttocks.

She closed her eyes and held her breath as he returned his fingers to one nipple. It was velvety compared to the satin smoothness of her breast. He brushed his finger back and forth until she bit her lower lip and shifted on his lap.

She moaned, a sweet sound that nearly did him in. He reached between them and unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. She cried out softly as he brushed the tip against her humid center.

She reached between them and touched him, her small hand engulfing the length as she shifted to put the tip inside her body.

He held her still with a hand on the small of her back. He had a lap full of woman, and he wanted Virginia more than he’d wanted any woman in a long time. Maintaining control was harder than it had ever been. Dangerous. He knew better than to let this mean anything more than a passionate encounter.

This was about the physical. One night together.

She rocked her hips, trying to take him deeper, and he knew the time for teasing was at an end.

“Marco?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to take me?” she asked.

“Do you want more?” he asked.

She leaned down and sucked his lower lip into her mouth, biting gently. “You know I do.”

“Beg me to take you,
mi’angela bella.
”

“Take me, Marco. Make me yours.”

He did want to make her his, in this moment with the night sky around them, the Southern Cross shining in the sky, he was away from Italy and the curse that had dogged the Moretti men for too long.

He was going to claim Virginia as his…even if only for this one night.

He gave her another inch, thrusting his hips up into her sweet, tight body. Her eyes were closed, her hips moving subtly against him, and when he blew on her nipples he saw gooseflesh spread down her body.

He loved the way she reacted to his mouth on her. He sucked on the skin at the base of her neck as he thrust all the way home, sheathing his entire length in her body. He knew he was leaving a mark with his mouth and that pleased him. He wanted her to remember this moment and what they had done when she was alone later.

He kept kissing and rubbing, pinching her nipples until her hands clenched in his hair and she rocked her hips harder against him. He lifted his hips, thrusting up against her.

“Come with me,” he whispered to her in Italian.

She nodded and he realized she understood his native tongue. Her eyes widened with each inch he gave her. She clutched at his hips, holding him to her, eyes half-closed and her head tipped back.

He caught one of her nipples in his teeth, scraping very gently. She started to tighten around him. Her hips moving faster, demanding more, but he kept the pace slow, steady, building the pleasure between them.

He varied his thrusts, finding a rhythm that would draw out the tension at the base of his spine. Something that would make his time in her body, wrapped in her silky limbs, seem to last forever.

“Hold on to me tightly.”

She did as he asked and he rolled them over so that she was beneath him. He pushed her legs up against her body so that he could thrust deeper, so that she was open and vulnerable to him.

“Now, Virginia,” he said.

She nodded and he felt her body tighten. Then she scraped her nails down his back, clutching his buttocks and drawing him in. Blood roared in his ears as he felt everything in his world center on this one woman.

He called her name as he came. He saw her eyes widen and felt the minute contractions of her body around his as she was consumed by her orgasm.

He rotated his hips against her until she stopped rocking against him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the underside of his chin.

“Oh, Marco,” she said. “Thank you for making love to me.”

“You’re very welcome, Virginia.”

She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. “I never thought it would be like this.”

“Like what?”

“So incredible. Being with you is just…well, I had no idea it would be so raw and intense.”

He laughed. “That’s because you hadn’t made love with me before.”

She tipped her head back and in her eyes he saw a vulnerability that he didn’t understand.

“I think you are right.”