A Sicilian Husband - Kate Walker [25]
‘Dio, no!’
The thudding of his heart set the blood throbbing inside his skull, blotting out the possibility of rational thought. Just to imagine himself and Terrie close together in the shower cubicle, naked and relaxed, the flow of the warm water over already heated skin, was more than he could endure. Unable to withstand the beguilingly erotic pictures that were flooding through his mind, he snatched up his disordered clothing and escaped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him as firmly as the need for quiet allowed.
Dear God, but he looked like hell!
The man who stared back at him from the mirror over the basin had heavy, hooded eyes with deep, dark shadows underneath them. His jawline was rough with a night’s growth of beard, and his hair was in wild disorder, making him remember Terrie’s urgent, clutching fingers closing over his scalp as her orgasm shook her slender body in wave after wave of ecstasy.
‘No!’
He must stop thinking like that. Must stop remembering.
Bending over the sink, he ran the cold tap until the water was icy and then scooped it up into his hands, splashing it fiercely into his still sleep-softened face. He had to wake up. Had to get out of here as he had always planned.
By the time he had dried his face, pulled on his clothes, and forced his wayward hair into some degree of order again, he felt much more awake. Awake and in control of himself at last. Ready to return to the way of life that had been the norm before the blonde land-mine that was Teresa Something had exploded right in his face, throwing him totally off balance.
She was still asleep when he made his way back into the bedroom. Still lying on her side, slightly curled up into a vulnerable ball, her face still hidden by the pale mass of her hair.
He could leave now. He could get out of here, get away before she even surfaced, and she would never know. He could simply walk out that door and…
But even as he thought it, he knew he could never act on the impulse. Their time together was over and, even though his greedy body was urging him to have second, and even third thoughts about the decision he had made, he was determined to stick with his resolve. But he couldn’t just walk out the door without a word. He’d have to stay and say something to her. Even if that something was only goodbye.
With a sigh he flung himself into the room’s single chair, raking both his hands through his newly smoothed hair, ruffling it into total disorder once again. If it had to be done then he wished she would wake. She was just too tempting lying there, sleeping. Too innocent. Too vulnerable.
Too watchable.
Some sound he had made must have disturbed her, penetrating at last the deep, deep sleep that had her in its grip. As he watched, he saw her stir, saw the faint change in her breathing as she swam to the surface of her consciousness. She stretched slightly, tensed a little as she felt the space beside her, and then turned over, her hand going out to where she had expected him to be.
‘Gio?’
It was a sleepy little murmur, softly puzzled, only halfway conscious.
‘Gio?’
He watched in silence as she blinked, frowned, half opened her eyes, then let them drift shut again as if rousing herself was just too much effort.
He knew exactly how she felt. Knew that heavy, almost drugged sense of disorientation on waking to find that nothing was quite as you expected it. That the scene you had anticipated finding had altered subtly and disturbingly.
‘Gio?’
This time she came round more fully. Lifting her head from the pillow, she peered, puzzled, at the vacant side of the bed, her light brown brows drawing together in a frown of incomprehension, her lavender gaze still slightly unfocused.
‘Where…?’
‘Here,’ he inserted quickly, drawing her eyes to where he sat with his back to the window. ‘I’m here.’
‘Oh, yes. There you are!’
To his horror she smiled straight at him. A smile that was still clouded