Electricity jagged the air. He felt it in the prickling of his skin and the weight in his groin.
Her breasts heaved against her tight bodice and Gio rubbed his hands against his trousers, trying to eradicate the phantom sensation teasing his palms. The sense memory of fondling her breasts.
She was furious, magnificent, and he wanted her.
Still. More.
It drove him mad that he couldn’t talk himself out of this attraction. She’d bewitched him in Rome and every hour in her company he’d fallen further under her spell.
How she’d laugh if he admitted the reason he’d intervened today, virtually kidnapping her, was simply that he couldn’t bear the thought of her giving herself to another man.
It made no sense. It wasn’t as if Gio had plans to marry anyone, much less Barbieri’s daughter.
But something utterly elemental and unstoppable had risen inside him at the thought of her as another man’s wife, in another man’s bed, sharing her body, her thoughts and laughter with someone other than Gio Valenti.
What he wanted, needed, was to get her out of his system so she didn’t haunt him any more.
He rose and moved closer, riveted to the sight of her storming past the row of French windows that framed the view of gardens, lake and mountains. Visitors raved about that view but it sank into insignificance before Stella’s vitality.
‘I want a paternity test.’
That stopped her in her tracks. The long skirts swirled around her as she pivoted towards him. ‘Go to hell, Valenti.’
He considered admitting that was how it had felt in his empty bed, his thoughts churning fruitlessly, his body craving hers.
‘I have a right to know if the baby’s mine.’
Even as he said it, he couldn’t bring himself to countenance the idea her unborn child had been fathered by anyone else. How was that for contrary? The thought of fathering a child left him utterly undone, yet he didn’t want it to be another man’s.
Gio had never been jealous of any man in his life. Until he’d seen photos of Eduardo Morosi in an investigator’s report. The man was suave and handsome if you admired bland good looks and aristocratic breeding.
The thought of Morosi dining alone with Stella, much less getting her pregnant, was like poison in Gio’s veins.
She planted her hands on her hips. ‘IfI were pregnant, that would be my business. Not yours.’
Gio prowled closer, unable to stay back. ‘Unless I’m the father.’ Instinct told him she carried his child but he wanted certainty.
She shook her head, her mouth flat. ‘You can be sure that if I ever have a baby I’d never turn to you for help. I’d look after my own child.’
He ground his teeth. Even now she refused to admit she was pregnant. ‘You can’t leave me hanging like that, Stella.’
She blinked as if surprised. ‘Can’t I? Why not? You lied to me, used me. I owe you nothing.’
He stalked nearer. ‘Iusedyou? I remember it differently.’
‘How convenient for you.’
He was so near now that her sweet lilac scent curled around him and he saw the embroidered flowers shiver on her dress with every quick inhalation. He wanted to touch them, stroke her, hold her and take her in against his needy body.
Her chin angled up as he moved to stand right in front of her. Another couple of centimetres and her heaving breasts would brush his torso. His skin was taut, sensing her so close. His heart pounded and he felt the adrenaline rush in his blood.
She was breathless and her mouth was dry like his. He saw her moisten her lips before repeating, ‘I don’t owe you anything. You’re my enemy.’
‘Is that your excuse for the way you behaved? Lying to me then running away?’
‘The wayIbehaved? Don’t pretend this is my fault.’ Her fingers poked his breastbone. ‘Youkidnappedme from my wedding. You made a laughing stock of me and Eduardo in front of hundreds of people.’
Fury engulfed Gio when she coupled herself with Morosi. It mirrored the urgent emotions that had forced him into action earlier. He hadn’t even considered the crowd of guests except as an obstacle to getting her out of that place.
