The Irresistible Royal Page 3

  He smiled. ‘You’re right.’

  A little shiver of apprehension shimmied down her spine—a tiny sense of foreboding. ‘I don’t fall into bed with men I’ve just met.’

  ‘I understood that when you said you’d had only two lovers.’

  Oh. Of course.

  ‘What have you got to lose?’ he pushed.

  Well, certainly not my virginity.

  Thank the Lord she hadn’t spoken those words aloud.

  Meeting his regard, her fingertips tingled. They itched to mimic what he’d done to her—to run along the strong line of his jaw and down the masculine column of his neck. But they also wanted to move more boldly—to pluck at his bow tie and remove it so she could start to undo every one of the buttons of his crisp white shirt. God, what a thought. This man was surely every woman’s secret fantasy come to life and he was offering to be hers.

  Hers for one night.

  ‘No-strings-attached sexual pleasure.’ She voiced the conditions as she weighed up the prospect. Surely she was mature enough to handle a little bit of physical experimentation. One night with one guy certainly didn’t mean she was about to turn into a woman with thoroughly loose morals like her mother.

  ‘No expectations of a relationship past tonight,’ he told her succinctly.

  She couldn’t stop her little laugh of dismay. Nothing could be further from her mind. Not only were their social spheres completely different, it would be geographically impossible to pursue a relationship. Besides, one look at Marco told her he’d never be the guy for her. He was definitely all sophistication. ‘Do you expect all the women you meet to have romantic aspirations of a continuing relationship?’

  ‘How romantic the aspirations are, I’m not sure.’ He shrugged. ‘But most women have aspirations an affair with me will lead to something more, even when they say they don’t.’

  ‘Then you must’ve left a trail of disappointed women in your wake.’

  ‘I always let a woman know the score, as I’m doing right now.’

  ‘I respect that. Let me make the score very clear from my point of view. I’ve made up my mind to leave first thing tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Just one night together then?’

  ‘I haven’t agreed to a single night.’

  ‘But you will.’ He raised one eyebrow before allowing his eyes to run over her features and right down the length of her body. ‘And perhaps you’ll let me convince you to stay the entire weekend?’

  She was under no illusions she was a convenience for him—the most readily available female present. ‘Don’t tell me you have serious expectations of a relationship with me?’ she threw back at him.

  He laughed. ‘No. One night—maybe two.’

  One night—maybe two.

  Chloe was miles away from home. She’d never have to face this guy again and nobody would ever need to know. Marco Esposito was in a league of his own. None of the few guys she’d dated had done anything alarming to her pulse rate the way Marco caused her blood to hammer through her arteries. If she couldn’t enjoy a night of earth-shattering sex with him, then there was no hope for her to think she’d ever have an orgasm during sex.

  Any shred of sanity she possessed deserted her. ‘I can’t deny I’m tempted.’

  ‘We could both leave for London in the morning, and spend the rest of the weekend there together.’

  ‘You do have tickets on yourself.’

  He laughed and his eyes contained genuine humour. ‘I’ve never had to work this hard to get a woman into bed.’

  ‘You’ve definitely had it too easy.’ She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

  There was a real spark of awareness arcing between them. Chloe knew she played with fire, but the flames were impossible to keep banked down. They mesmerised her with their heat and intensity. There was no risk of being burned. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know what was on offer here. Her choice was clear. She could enjoy this one night to experience sexual pleasure at the hands of a reputed master, or she could go home wondering whether she’d missed the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Why shouldn’t she throw herself into the beckoning flames? It’d been so long since she’d been in a steady relationship, and there was no sign of anyone else on the horizon.

  ‘You’re not a risk taker,’ he observed.

  ‘Not usually.’

  ‘Are you willing to make an exception tonight?’

  Was she?

  He raised his other arm and reached out to stroke her cheek with his hand. The light contact sent shivers of need through her slender frame.

  ‘If you don’t take risks, you never truly live,’ he told her confidently.

  You also don’t get injured, a little voice warned in her head.

  He’s right, another voice argued. Shouldn’t you live a little?

  You’re not about to marry the guy and make him the first in a long line of husbands like your mother suggested.

  With a very dry throat, it was an effort to ask, ‘Do you make a habit of seducing relatively inexperienced, unsophisticated women?’

  ‘No.’ His head lowered and his lips grazed the corner of her mouth. ‘But I find in your case I want to make an exception.’

  Holy hell. She was gone.

  Despite the weakness of her trembling legs—despite being in view of those in the ballroom who might look their way—she raised herself on to her tiptoes to press her lips against his.

  Heaven. She’d surely died and gone to heaven. As his mouth closed firmly over hers, and his hands encircled her waist and drew her length against the hard, muscular frame of his body, Chloe simply floated along on a cloud of bliss. She was quite sure she’d hear harps playing and angels singing at any second.

  Her body melted against his, so close she could feel the physical evidence of his arousal. Oh wow. Desire overruled common sense. ‘I think, in your case, I also want to make an exception.’

  A flicker of satisfaction crossed his handsome features.

  ‘You look extremely self-satisfied. Did I agree too quickly?’

  ‘Not nearly quickly enough, cara.’ He tapped one finger against the tip of her nose. ‘Which floor’s your bedroom on?’

  It was a good question and she struggled to recall the detail. ‘Third floor, East Wing. I’m not even sure I can find my way back there.’ The place was palatial.

  ‘Too far, but it’s even further to mine.’ She heard the slightly ragged note in his response and was pleased by it. He took her hand in his and she thrilled to his warm, confident touch. ‘Let’s go.’

  Really? a little voice in her head questioned as he clasped her hand in the certainty of his and she walked with him as he cut a path effortlessly through the multitude of guests. He’s swayed you so easily? You’re really going to do this tonight, with a guy you’ve only known for two seconds? A prince, no less?

  It was madness.

  She’d morphed into someone she didn’t recognise.

  Her nickname at school had been Sensible Salvatore. But there was nothing sensible about the way she felt now. The only thing making any sense was following this commanding man wherever he led her and yielding to the overwhelming current of desire. It’d caught her in its rip and dragged her out of her depth at an alarming speed. If she fought against the fast current that sharpened every sense and made her adrenaline surge, she had a feeling she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

  Every instinct told her this man would bring her physical pleasure as she swam in deep and turbulent waters. He may be into one-night stands but she didn’t think he was uncaring. She was confident he’d bring her safely back to shore afterward.

  When she’d committed herself and was being led out of the ballroom, Chloe panicked.

  Lidia.

  Oh hell.

  Nervously, Chloe looked around the ballroom. She spotted their hostess right over the far side—completely occupied chatting to a good-looking, middle-aged guy. Relief swept through Chloe. Her mother obvi
ously hadn’t spotted her. Lidia would never know she was leaving with Marco and think Chloe was bowing to her wishes. That much was imperative.

  Suddenly, they were out of the crowd—out of the suffocating crush of bodies and going down a long hallway into a part of the mansion where she hadn’t been. ‘I don’t think this is the right way,’ she said.

  ‘Change of plan.’ Marco opened a door and she followed him into the room, which was lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling. There was a single lamp illuminating the room from its position next to a comfortable-looking armchair.

  Tension wound through her spine as she walked past him and cast her gaze around the room to ensure they were quite alone. The lock of the door clicked into place and Chloe turned back to see Marco drop the key into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket.

  Here? In the library? The questions were almost out of her mouth. She pressed her lips together, refusing to allow them release. No more being gauche. If this was where the master of seduction wanted to seduce her, then so be it.

  With his back pressed against the oak panels, his eyes locked with hers as firmly as he’d locked the door. He must’ve sensed her momentary hesitation. ‘Second thoughts?’

  ‘No.’ The word wasn’t as resolute as she’d wanted it to be, but her mind was definitely made up. No turning back from this moment and no regrets.

  His eyes didn’t leave hers as he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. For a moment, he stood in the one spot, undid his bow tie, top button and the buttons at the cuffs of his formal white shirt.

  When he moved, there was a primitive, almost predatory purpose to his stride as he closed the distance between them.

  The second she was in his arms, her awkwardness evaporated and she began to undo the rest of his shirt buttons, anxious to peel off his shirt.

  ‘Mm. You must spend hours at the gym,’ she said in appreciation when the shirt came off and she viewed the magnificence of his physique. ‘Your biceps literally bulge.’

  Marco laughed at her awed declaration. ‘They’re not the only part of my body that’s bulging at the moment.’

  Geez. She really must stop verbalising every thought.

  But her moment of cringing was forgotten as he gathered her slim frame against him and red-hot need flared. Her body revelled in his strength as his hands moulded her against him and some deeply feminine part of her thrilled at the awareness of the bulge he referred to. Then his mouth claimed hers in a kiss, shattering all her illusions that she’d ever truly been kissed before.

  One night with Marco. No regrets.

  Chapter Two

  Marco had intended to kiss Chloe tenderly—to stoke the fires of passion slowly—because he sensed she was a little out of her depth and he wanted to reassure her that she had nothing to fear. But his best intentions were forgotten the second her soft lips parted on a breathless sigh of yearning and he claimed the lushness of her mouth. Lust stronger than he’d ever known pounded through him.

  There was a sweet, potent cocktail of champagne, passion and tentativeness on her tongue as she flicked it over his experimentally and provocatively. He drank it in, feasted on it hungrily as the first slides of their tongues against each other escalated into a tantalising, sensual duel.

  Kissing Chloe was addictive. The bone-deep desire ambushed him, made him forget who he was—focused him entirely on the wonder of every touch and every sensation they shared.

  The feel of her gorgeous curves and her soft, feminine body pressing against his made him desperate to possess her. His erection pounded, demanding to be loosened from the constriction of his trousers so it could be sheathed in the tightness of her body. It strained as she rubbed up against his length invitingly.

  Madre de Dio. It’d been months since he’d met a woman he’d wanted to take to bed. Chloe had no idea how much she tested his restraint. ‘I want you desperately, bella.’

  Urgent, husky little noises from the back of her throat shafted through him, evoking an all-encompassing, primal need to possess her. ‘I’m on the pill,’ she told him as she kissed along his neck, ‘but I trust you have a condom?’

  ‘Si. Let’s get this off,’ he told her, sliding his hands over the red fabric that covered all he so badly wanted to see.

  ‘Yes.’ Her fingers fumbled frantically for the side zipper of her sensational dress.

  She had it undone in seconds, but it fitted her closely and there was no great finesse in the way they both pulled it down.

  His heart slammed against his ribs when the fabric lowered and her bare breasts spilled forth. They were beautiful breasts—high and pert with dusky pink nipples that begged to be stroked and suckled.

  ‘I didn’t have a strapless bra with me,’ she explained self-consciously.

  ‘Good.’ The word was barely coherent as need roared through him. He pushed the dress further down, below the indentation of her slim waist and over the feminine swell of her hips. The garment pooled to the floor around her feet and she stood before him in sinfully sexy high heels and a tiny scrap of red silk over the area he most wanted to plunder. ‘Dio, I hope you don’t change your mind about this. If you want me to stop you’d better tell me now.’

  ‘If you stopped, I think I’d regret it forever,’ she said as her fingertips raked frantically through his hair. Her words were warm and breathy against his neck as she trailed her hands from his hair, across his shoulders and down his spine.

  ‘Chloe, you’re incredible.’

  ‘Let’s get these off,’ she urged wickedly, as her fingers worked their way under the waistband of his trousers and slid erotically from the centre of his spine all the way around to find his trouser button and zipper.

  That she wasn’t completely practised at undressing a man was obvious in the way she fumbled inexpertly at the fastenings. She’d spoken of boyfriends. Marco was no boy and he was gripped by an all-encompassing male satisfaction in knowing he was about to show her that sex could be far more than merely pleasant.

  When he’d helped her in her mission to have him completely naked, he sensed her hesitation. Wordlessly, he took her hand and guided it to his engorged shaft.

  The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lower lip and the muscles in her neck worked up and down as she swallowed. ‘I... You...’ She closed her eyes. ‘I can’t believe we’re doing this.’

  He heard a note in her voice that sounded close to panic. Dio. He needed to reassure her. ‘Look at me, Chloe.’ When her eyelids fluttered open, he vowed, ‘It will be wonderful, tesoro. Trust me.’

  Her perfect complexion stained red and he realised she was nervous. Remembering she’d said that having sex so soon after meeting wasn’t normally something she did, he cautioned himself to slow down.

  At thirty-four, Marco was not inexperienced. But this urgency... He’d been honest when he’d told Chloe he’d been compelled to make love to her. He’d never felt such raw, primitive lust. Not even with...

  He clamped down on the name, refusing to let his thoughts wander in that direction.

  ‘Chloe,’ he murmured huskily, refocusing his mind on this exquisite woman with whom he was about to make love.

  For a few seconds the mix of emotions crossing her features told him she waged a war within herself. Finally, the smile she sent him was confident. ‘This is sheer madness when I don’t even know you, but somehow I do trust you.’

  Her vulnerability shifted something deep in his chest. He was aware of the rumbling of movement there, a subconscious recognition she’d exposed a fault line he hadn’t been aware of. It cracked open slowly to let her affect him in a way that was wholly unfathomable to him.

  A soul-searing connection told him this moment they shared was the prelude to something deeper than a brief slaking of sexual desire.

  Even as he ruthlessly squashed the thought, he looked down and saw a mixture of hesitation, wonder, and need churning in the clear blueness of Chloe’s eyes.

  There was a huge, un
deniable wrench on his heart.

  No, this is only sexual tension, which needs to be assuaged.

  Now he regretted they’d come to the library. Their lovemaking needed to be completely special for her. ‘I was wrong to bring you here. Let’s go upstairs.’

  ‘No.’ Her denial was vehement. ‘I... This might be something you do every other day, Marco, but I’ve plucked up the courage to be with you. Please, don’t give me anymore time to think about this or I might change my mind.’

  ‘Chloe, this is not something I do every other day.’ He’d never been so promiscuous as to earn himself a playboy tag like some of his friends. ‘As much as I want you, I don’t want you to regret this. If you think you’re going to change your mind, then—’

  ‘Please, Marco. Here and now.’

  He hesitated. He wanted to spend the entire night with her. ‘I don’t want to be interrupted.’

  It was impossible to miss the tremor running through the length of her.

  ‘You locked the door.’ She placed a series of kisses along his collarbone. ‘We won’t be interrupted.’

  Threading his hands through her hair, he tried to draw back from her, but her arms wound around his neck and held him firm. He tried to reason with her. ‘I want this to be unforgettable for you. Let’s—’

  ‘Trust me, Marco, tonight will be unforgettable.’

  The urgent pleading in her voice made him capitulate. He swept her up into his arms and walked toward a luxuriously thick rug near the fireplace. ‘It would be more idyllic if the fire were on,’ he told her, ‘but a little impractical for this time of year.’

  ‘We don’t need a fire. I’m already burning.’

  On the surface, the statement was corny, but accompanied by the wealth of sincerity in her tone, the shy hesitation in her eyes and her tremulous smile, his heart booted his rib cage. He felt the searing flames too.

  Setting her down gently against the plush rug, he drank in the beauty of her feminine form as he knelt beside her. On an intimate voyage of discovery, his fingertips skimmed over the flatness of her stomach. They dipped lower then hooked under the elastic of her panties to draw them down. His hands smoothed along the silky flesh of her legs as he removed the last scrap of silk.