“How big a virgin are you?” he asked. It was possible she’d fooled around with boys when she went to university. Only a slim possibility because her father had always driven her to her lectures and picked her up the moment they were finished. It was also possible she’d caught the eye of a co-worker during the fortnight she’d worked at the chateau, or even one of the tourists.
Her laugh was low and shaky. “The biggest. I’ve never even kissed a man before.”
His heart sank even lower. “And yet you flirt so well.”
“I watch a lot of romcoms. And horrors,” she added. “Although there’s not so much flirting in the horror movies.”
“I shall try not to make this into a horror for you.”
“I know.”
He could laugh. His hostage had greater faith in him than he did.
“You are sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation.
“Okay, then it ismyturn to propose a deal.”
Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“It will drive us both crazy if I check in every minute to ask if you’re comfortable or enjoying it or if I’m hurting you, so I want you to promise me that if you want me to stop, you tell me. Okay?”
Eyes widening, she nodded. “Okay.”
“I don’t care what the reason is; if you want me to stop, then you tell me, and we stop.”
She nodded again.
“Okay, now I want you to sit up.”
The line low on her forehead appeared.
“You’ve never kissed a man before, and now you’re lying naked beside one. If you sit up and keep the duvet tight around yourself, you will feel less vulnerable.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I don’t feel vulnerable.”
He half-smiled at this blatant lie. “Yes you do. Now do as you’re told and sit up for me.”
Only once she was upright with the duvet held tight beneath her armpits did Gino sit up too, dimming the overhead bed-light to its lowest setting before facing her.
With Francesca now cast in a soft, golden glow, he was reminded of the glorious paintings by the old masters who’d used the light-dark chiaroscuro technique to such dramatic effect. But even Caravaggio would struggle to capture the full luminescence of her beauty, he thought as he lifted his hand and gently touched her cheek. It was as soft as the glow illuminating her.
As still as a statue, she made no reaction, and yet he would swear he could feel the pounding of her heart vibrating through her skin. If she were to touch him, she would feel the strength of his own heart’s beat, too.
Skimming his fingers over her skin, he captured her chin and carefully brought his mouth to her succulent lips.
Their mouths lightly moulded together, Gino slowly moved his, trying to draw her trembling but stubbornly resistant lips with him.
“Relax,” he murmured, sliding his hand from her chin to the side of her slender neck. “And remember to breathe.”
She made a snuffly noise that could have been a choked laugh.
Gently knotting his fingers in her hair, he whispered into her mouth, “Follow my lead, Chicca. Close your eyes and remember there is nothing to be afraid of. I will take care of you.”
Her lips trembling even harder, her whole body now shaking, he was about to withdraw completely and suggest that she take the lead and set the pace when he felt the pressure of her mouth compressing on his.
They stayed like that for the longest time, their lips touching but not moving, doing nothing but breathe each other in until he judged the time right to move his mouth in another caress… and this time felt the slightest movement in response.
