Ripped by Sarah Morgan Page A

the flames on that pudding, so the smoke alarm was probably unconscious by now.
    I’d stopped eating and so had he. I wished there was a way to make Christmas lunch go on forever because I didn’t want today to end. But of course in real life good things always ended.
    ‘We have to leave now.’ He spoke softly so that no one else could hear, not that they were paying any attention to us anyway. They were too wrapped up in Christmas pudding and conversation.
    ‘Of course.’ I hadn’t expected him to leave quite this soon and the level of disappointment appalled me. The whole idea of a sex-based relationship was to avoid these emotional lows. Clearly I was doing something wrong. ‘I’m sure you and Kiara have lots to do.’
    ‘I’m not leaving with Kiara,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m leaving with you.’
    ‘Me?’ My mouth was drier than overcooked turkey breast. The same couldn’t be said for the part of me that was under his fingers. ‘I can’t leave. I live here. It’s Christmas.’
    He glanced at our friends, most of whom were by now laughing uncontrollably. ‘They’re happy. And I need to give you my gift.’
    ‘You bought me a gift? You didn’t have to do that.’ I felt a little embarrassed because obviously I didn’t have anything for him. Presumably he’d considered it an obligation to his host. ‘Why didn’t you just give it to Rosie when you arrived?’
    ‘It isn’t for Rosie. It’s for you. It’s personal.’
    ‘You could give it to me here.’
    ‘I don’t think so.’ He reached for his glass and I noticed that he was still drinking water. I wondered again whether this was all part of his determination to hang onto control. It scared me how badly I wanted to push him and rip it all back until I exposed the real him, but maybe that was because I’d been nothing but exposed in the past week, so it was definitely his turn.
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because my gift is just for you. Not to be shared.’
    ‘How do you know it’s something I want?’ I jumped as someone popped a cork on another bottle of champagne. The movement increased the friction against his hand and I almost moaned.
    ‘I know it’s something you want, Hayley.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘Because you’d already typed it into a search engine on your laptop.’
    I was so distracted by the sensations exploding through my body, it took a moment for his words to sink in.
    When they did, I turned my head again.
    His eyes were velvet dark and locked on mine. There was a faint gleam of humour there, and something else—something that made my stomach twist and spin and then drop like a stone from a high cliff.
    ‘My laptop?’
    He leaned closer. His lips brushed my ear. ‘Did you manage to locate “The Niccolò”?’
    Heat poured over me and warmth pooled in my pelvis. If he was waiting for me to respond, he was going to be waiting a long time. I couldn’t form a word let alone a sentence. I made an inarticulate sound that drew Rosie’s attention.
    She frowned slightly, satisfied herself I didn’t need the Heimlich manoeuvre and drew everyone’s attention to herself by telling a funny joke that required sound effects and hand gestures.
    Did I mention I loved my sister?
    Nico didn’t seem to care what anybody else at the table thought. He was focused just on me and it was the sexiest, most intense experience of my life. Charlie had looked over my shoulder most of the time, as if conversing with me was an irritation he had to endure. The boyfriend I’d had before him used to just start talking about himself.
    I’d never had a man look at me the way this man was looking at me.
    As if everyone else in the room was inconsequential.
    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    His eyes were two shimmering pools of dark promise. ‘No? Because I happen to know where you can find what you were looking for.’
    God, his voice was sexy. And the way his breath warmed my neck. I quivered and shivered. ‘You do?’
    ‘Yes.’ I could