A Sicilian Husband - Kate Walker [55]
Swamped by a rush of disturbing sensation, a flood of heat that filled her veins from head to toe, making her whole body glow in a way that had nothing to do with the warmth of the sun, Terrie swiftly turned away, unable to watch any longer. Snatching up her towel, she rubbed it fiercely against her face, more as a way of concealing her expression, hiding the betraying colour of her cheeks, than in any attempt to dry her skin. Already the sunny afternoon had made the lingering moisture evaporate, and even the material of her swimming costume was drying so fast that she might never have been in the pool at all.
‘OK, so you swam. I believe you.’
The laughter was still there in Gio’s voice, sparking off sensations in her thoughts that complicated her already intense reactions to him.
She had to drag her eyes away from the way that Gio’s strong hands held his small son so gently yet so securely, long, tanned fingers splayed out against the olive-toned flesh of the small torso. Needed to wipe from her mind the memories of the pleasure just the touch of those hands could bring, the tingling sensation that lingered where they had smoothed her hair, caressed her skin.
When she had agreed to come here to Sicily with him, she had been so sure that she could keep to the crazily impulsive ‘hands off’ rule that she had flung at him in a temper on that afternoon in her flat. She had had some vague sort of thought that perhaps if Gio found that she wasn’t as freely available for sex as he had seemed to expect then he might find other reasons for being with her, other pleasures that her company might bring. She had even hoped that it might just be a case of abstinence making the heart grow fonder.
But she had been sorely disappointed. Gio had seemed worryingly unmoved. He had made none of the sarcastic or critical comments she had anticipated. In fact, he had said nothing at all. And on their arrival here at the villa he had made no attempt to persuade her to share his room, but instead had led her to a totally separate room at the far end of the corridor to his. In fact, she had been forced to wonder whether she had had any effect on him. And, even worse, she had been obliged to ask herself if she was the one who was suffering most as a result of her own impetuous edict.
And she had reckoned without the way that the very different climate and way of life that Gio knew in his native land had changed the man himself. In ways that only deepened and dangerously enhanced his already potent sexual attraction until it was positively lethal to any sort of peace of mind she might have hoped for.
Here, in the warmth of the sun, and with the relaxed pace of life enjoyed in his island villa, the sophisticated city lawyer had disappeared, and in his place was a more relaxed, far more casual Giovanni Cardella than she had ever believed existed. Gone were the sleek city suits and in their place were loose T-shirts and shorts that exposed the muscular length of his legs. And several times he had joined Terrie and Paolo for a swim, sending her pulse rate rocketing when he stripped off to reveal the toned lines of a body that the sun had tanned to the shade of dark bronze.
She was desperately afraid that if she stayed in Sicily much longer, he would come to mean more to her than it was safe for her to feel.
Not that she could feel any more.
The thought slammed into her mind with the force of a blow to her head, making her reel dizzily.
Where had that come from? And was it true? As soon as she asked herself the question she knew there was only one answer.
She had no way of escape, she told herself. No matter what rational controls she tried to impose on it, her body recognised the personal sexual brand this man had set on it on their single night together. A secret brand that made her as much his possession as if she had been bought and sold in a slave market in days gone by. And