worse?
Quickly he whirled around, facing the fireplace instead.
“I beg your pardon, my dear wife. I wouldn’t have intruded on your privacy had I not seen the door open and been worried about your safety. But now that I see that everything seems to be in order, I shall take my leave.”
He took a hesitant step toward the door, unable to tear himself away completely. This would be the last time he saw her like this.
“About what happened earlier today,” she started.
He stopped in his tracks. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” Because for this one night he wanted to go to bed and dream that she was his. Even though he knew she never would be.
“No.”
Surprised at her insistent tone, he turned to face her. If she wanted this to be done and over with tonight, then so be it.
“Signora,” he said formally. “I made you cry today. And a husband should never make his wife cry. It appears that I’m not suitable to be a husband. Therefore, I shall agree to your earlier proposal. As you suggested, I will take a mistress and spare you my advances. In exchange, I beg only one thing. That you’ll move to my estate on the mainland. It’s a large property with a house grander than this. You’ll have a large number of servants to take care of you.”
She stared at him, stunned. “But . . . ”
He raised his hand to interrupt her. “It’s the only way I can guarantee that I will keep my end of the bargain.”
She rose from the settee and took a few steps toward him. “And why is that?”
He motioned to her garment. “Signora, no hot-blooded man can resist a beautiful woman like you. Even less so when she’s dressed like this.” He averted his gaze, his body already turning halfway to be ready to flee from her presence.
“Oriana, my name is Oriana,” she said softly, her hand all of a sudden finding his forearm.
Slowly, he turned his head and stared at her. She met his gaze without pulling back. When she licked her lips, he almost came.
“Would it help if I weren’t dressed like this?” she asked.
“A little,” he confessed. However, in the state he was in, it wouldn’t make a difference. Even if she wore an old rag, he’d find her sinfully tantalizing.
“Then maybe this garment wasn’t such a good idea.” She dropped first one strap, then the other from her shoulders and allowed the fabric to slide down her breasts and pool at her waist.
“Fuck!” he cursed, his eyes hungrily roaming her naked bosom.
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. Then he tried to shake the image from his mind: clearly, he was hallucinating.
“But I made you cry,” he repeated.
“I couldn’t hold back the tears because of what you did to me.”
Nico dropped his gaze to the floor. “Because I forced you.”
She took his hand and guided it to her breast, making her cup it. He felt the soft flesh—it was too real to be a hallucination. His head shot up.
“No. Because I was overwhelmed by what you made me feel. I’ve never before felt like a woman. I didn’t know that this is what married couples did. My friend . . . she never mentioned . . .” She hesitated for a moment, searching his face. “But if you’re disgusted by my behavior, I’ll agree to your wishes and leave for the mainland tomorrow.”
Had he heard correctly? “Disgusted?” How could she have even thought such a thing? Every man worth his salt would welcome a woman who responded with such passion.
Of its own volition, his hand kneaded her breast. Oriana’s head fell back in response, and her lips parted on a moan.
“I would never be disgusted with a woman who gives herself so freely. As long as she gives herself only to me.”
Nico pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet, and captured her mouth with a hungry kiss. If he was still hallucinating, it was a damn good hallucination, and he didn’t want it to end.
Her full, soft breasts pressed against his shirt. He felt their warmth seeping
Quickly he whirled around, facing the fireplace instead.
“I beg your pardon, my dear wife. I wouldn’t have intruded on your privacy had I not seen the door open and been worried about your safety. But now that I see that everything seems to be in order, I shall take my leave.”
He took a hesitant step toward the door, unable to tear himself away completely. This would be the last time he saw her like this.
“About what happened earlier today,” she started.
He stopped in his tracks. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” Because for this one night he wanted to go to bed and dream that she was his. Even though he knew she never would be.
“No.”
Surprised at her insistent tone, he turned to face her. If she wanted this to be done and over with tonight, then so be it.
“Signora,” he said formally. “I made you cry today. And a husband should never make his wife cry. It appears that I’m not suitable to be a husband. Therefore, I shall agree to your earlier proposal. As you suggested, I will take a mistress and spare you my advances. In exchange, I beg only one thing. That you’ll move to my estate on the mainland. It’s a large property with a house grander than this. You’ll have a large number of servants to take care of you.”
She stared at him, stunned. “But . . . ”
He raised his hand to interrupt her. “It’s the only way I can guarantee that I will keep my end of the bargain.”
She rose from the settee and took a few steps toward him. “And why is that?”
He motioned to her garment. “Signora, no hot-blooded man can resist a beautiful woman like you. Even less so when she’s dressed like this.” He averted his gaze, his body already turning halfway to be ready to flee from her presence.
“Oriana, my name is Oriana,” she said softly, her hand all of a sudden finding his forearm.
Slowly, he turned his head and stared at her. She met his gaze without pulling back. When she licked her lips, he almost came.
“Would it help if I weren’t dressed like this?” she asked.
“A little,” he confessed. However, in the state he was in, it wouldn’t make a difference. Even if she wore an old rag, he’d find her sinfully tantalizing.
“Then maybe this garment wasn’t such a good idea.” She dropped first one strap, then the other from her shoulders and allowed the fabric to slide down her breasts and pool at her waist.
“Fuck!” he cursed, his eyes hungrily roaming her naked bosom.
He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. Then he tried to shake the image from his mind: clearly, he was hallucinating.
“But I made you cry,” he repeated.
“I couldn’t hold back the tears because of what you did to me.”
Nico dropped his gaze to the floor. “Because I forced you.”
She took his hand and guided it to her breast, making her cup it. He felt the soft flesh—it was too real to be a hallucination. His head shot up.
“No. Because I was overwhelmed by what you made me feel. I’ve never before felt like a woman. I didn’t know that this is what married couples did. My friend . . . she never mentioned . . .” She hesitated for a moment, searching his face. “But if you’re disgusted by my behavior, I’ll agree to your wishes and leave for the mainland tomorrow.”
Had he heard correctly? “Disgusted?” How could she have even thought such a thing? Every man worth his salt would welcome a woman who responded with such passion.
Of its own volition, his hand kneaded her breast. Oriana’s head fell back in response, and her lips parted on a moan.
“I would never be disgusted with a woman who gives herself so freely. As long as she gives herself only to me.”
Nico pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet, and captured her mouth with a hungry kiss. If he was still hallucinating, it was a damn good hallucination, and he didn’t want it to end.
Her full, soft breasts pressed against his shirt. He felt their warmth seeping
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