This time, the silky veneer of his voice turned into something harder.
And that was enough to shake her out of the haze of desire. She had been taught all her life that it was pointless to take on men like this head-on, that it was better to maneuver, but there was nowhere for her to maneuver. And why wouldn’t she simply tell him her purpose? Surely, he had already assumed worse. Maybe a straightforward answer would end this conversation once and for all. She tilted her chin up and said, “I want freedom.”
His expression looked thoughtful, and for one short moment, she believed that he had heard her, really heard her and was considering what she said. Her heart soared in her chest, and for that one breathless moment, she believed that there was a way forward, that she could get the freedom she wanted, and that he was not like her father. That despite all the signs to the contrary, he could and would compromise. And she couldn’t help that her gaze traveled down to those lips, because if there was hope for compromise, maybe there was hope for even more. Maybe the ache that she had felt all morning was possible to satisfy, too.
But the moment her gaze dipped down to his lips, the pensive expression on his face slowly changed into something else. His eyes narrowed, and his lips took on that twist that couldn’t possibly be called a smile. It was something far from humor. It was a warning, but his body was so close that she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“The truth, Catarina,” he said. “Just the truth.”
But there was no time for indignation or outrage or protest, not when his lips brushed against hers.
Massimo had wanted to believe her. Her eyes had been so clear when she spoke, and it felt as though the words had come from her whole heart. It would be so much easier if all she wanted was freedom. Of course, only someone never burdened by responsibility truly believed in freedom, but that illusion could fit with his requirements for a marriage of convenience. He had almost been convinced, but then her gaze had dipped to his mouth. That look of carnal desire had flashed in her eyes, a look that had nothing to do with freedom. Massimo knew exactly what it meant. It was a cage he would recognize anywhere, and yet he had been startled to suddenly find himself outside the door of it.
Desire thrummed in his blood. He had waited for this moment since he awoke, and he found his own gaze drawn to her lips, so soft and sensual. He wanted to taste those lips again. He wanted to provoke her, to kiss her until she begged for more. He told himself that this was necessary, a lesson for her and a reminder of how easily he could become a victim of his own desire.
As his eyes dipped to the high flush on her cheeks and the way her full lips parted, as if in anticipation, Massimo thought about the difference that he had seen in her since the first day, the change he had not quite been able to put his finger on. Here, on the mountain, he realized that there was a wildness to her, an untamed part of her that he hadn’t seen in Milan. She hid it behind her demure facade, but he had caught more glimpses of it this morning when she sat behind the piano. In this house, surrounded by the endless snow, she was no longer hiding it, and Massimo couldn’t shake the feeling this was somehow at the center of why she had fled from him.
But that thought slipped away when she licked her lips. There was nothing between them. There was only the deep brown of her eyes, open and curious, and the bow-shaped mouth that he hungered for. The wordminerang through his head, the toll of a bell that called and called in his mind. For once, he did not have to restrain himself from this call. For once, he didn’t have to weigh how the decision would affect his business, his family name. Because for once, his wants were in line with his most strategic and expedient move. This moment was born by circumstances that he never would have chosen, but right now, he was no longer angry that she had run because it allowed him to seduce her into granting him the marriage he needed. This moment was a short reprieve from a life of sacrifices. He would take what he craved and give her what she so nakedly asked him for, then hold it up for her to examine.
Slowly, he lowered his head. Her eyes widened, as they had in her kitchen, when he had given in to this urge. Her breath hitched, a sound that shot through him and landed directly in his groin. Purpose faded as he lowered his mouth to hers, lush and red, and he told himself it didn’t matter, that this was not the same as giving in to the temptation of her parted lips.
Massimo brought his hands to her flushed cheeks, testing the heat that burned between them. Her skin was soft, and her silky chestnut hair drifted over his hands as Massimo pressed his mouth to hers. The scent of roses overwhelmed him, triggering the memories that had haunted him since the day in their library. Gently, he tasted her again, coaxing her lips open farther until he felt her giving in. He teased her, tilting his mouth for a better angle, and she answered, exploring his mouth tentatively, then with a growing confidence. A surge of satisfaction coursed through him as she came alive under his touch. He fisted her hair and moved his tongue over hers in long, luxurious strokes. With his mouth he promised what he could do with her. For her. He showed her the way that he would please her and she would more than please him.
As he took control of the kiss, she seemed to simply let go, to give in to him. Yes, this was the right way forward. That he could give in to this feeling, just a little bit, just to tempt her further. But soon, his hunger grew stronger, roaring to life. He had it kept tamed so well over the years that he had sometimes even forgotten that it was there. Now it surged, threatening to take over.
Massimo gasped and pulled away. Her mouth was still so tantalizingly close, and she was watching his, but she didn’t move closer. She simply stared at him, her eyes both wild and startled, like he was a revelation, and that idea satisfied something inside him. He ignored the warning that clamored because he had her exactly where he wanted her.
“There is no freedom in a kiss like that,” he said, letting the wild hunger roughen his voice. She needed to see the dangers of this kind of desire.
Her eyes were bright, and her breaths lifted her chest, pressing against him. “What do you mean?”
“Fires like this burn until they leave everything in ashes.” If she did not understand this, she would continue to taunt him with desire. She would tempt him and ruin them both.
At some point, she had reached for him, and her fists were full of his T-shirt. She stared down at her hands for a moment, then let go, smoothing the material with a trembling hand. She took a step back. That hunger inside him roared to life, resisting the distance between them. He had the urge to pull her against him again, but down that road led to disaster, so he gritted his teeth and forced himself to still.
“And we are the future ashes in this scenario?” Catarina sounded more curious than rebuked.
“Not just us,” he said gravely.
Massimo watched her carefully as her breaths slowed and her expression returned to that placid, docile mask that somehow provoked a surge of frustration inside him. Because she was proving to be anything but docile.
Massimo flashed to the first moment he saw her this morning, when Catarina sat on the shining black bench of the grand piano, dressed in pajama pants that hinted at the fullness of her thighs and a soft white sweater. Her hair fell over her shoulders in a mass of silken waves that made him ache to weave his hands through it. The keys of the piano were exposed, and sheets of music were arranged in front of her, but her hands were still. On her face was an expression that Massimo could only describe as wild astonishment. He realized with a start that he recognized this expression. She had given him a version of it in her library, and he had written it off as too starry-eyed, full of the unrealistic hopes that he had felt the urge to tame. Just moments ago, when she had given him another version of this same look, he saw something else. He saw dangerous, untamed passion.
But now she wore the mask of the biddable wife again, and Massimo told himself that this was what he wanted. Not the challenge that stoked the fire between them until it threatened to burn out of control.
Catarina tilted her head, as if weighing his words. “Then I suppose that means you shouldn’t kiss me anymore. Though that’s an interesting take on marriage.”
Massimo frowned. “That kiss was a warning that—”
“Yes, yes.” She cut him off with a placating smile. “Disaster ahead if we feel passion. I understand.”
Massimo stewed over the way she mocked his warning. Clearly, she didn’t understand. Which meant that here, in the confines of this home, Massimo needed to demonstrate the danger that lay ahead on this path.
He needed to take her to bed.
It was the answer that his body had begged for ever since she’d entered his room last night, clamoring for attention. But the purpose of taking her to bed was not to satisfy his own needs, he told himself. It was to teach her the lesson that he had learned over and over throughout his life, that passion was a silken noose, so soft and temptingly sensual, that slowly slipped tighter and tighter until it suffocated. Better to teach this lesson now, when they were stuck here together, so she would learn it quickly instead of drawing it out over the years.
“But you still want to play with this fire?” he asked softly. Another warning.
