Annie West - Ruthless Revenge - Sweet Surrender

Ella remembered how it had felt coming apart in his arms, drowning in his gaze. She felt it again, fierce pleasure and more too, the powerful connection, the sense she gave up part of her soul, not just her body. It had scared the life out of her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the crescendo of physical rapture. The climax that was upon her before she knew it, throwing her high to the stars. She bit her tongue, desperate not to cry his name as ecstasy took over, needing not to give in completely.

Donato jerked hard, spilling himself, his voice a guttural, seductive slur of Spanish, and her eyes opened of their own volition.

Instantly she was lost in indigo heat, in the heady, terrifying tumble into unfamiliar territory that wasn’t merely about eager bodies and erotic caresses. Into a place where she was no longer Ella but part of him, part of Donato, and he was part of her.

He held her gaze for what seemed minutes, their breathing ragged, chests heaving, bodies twitching in the aftershock of that momentous eruption of delight.

Ella told herself it was okay. She’d be fine. She was just unused to sex. To giving herself to any man. This was purely physical.

Then he bent his head and touched his lips to hers in a delicate feather of a kiss and something huge and inexplicable welled up inside. Ella choked back a lump in her throat, blinking furiously as heat glazed her eyes and a tear spilled down her cheek.

CHAPTER NINE

‘IF YOU STAY the night, who knows,’ Donato murmured hours later, languidly tracing Ella’s back, ‘we might make it to a bed.’

It was the first time he’d invited a woman to stay overnight but he’d passed the stage of being surprised at his need for Ella. Whatever this was between them, he’d enjoy it to the utmost.

A rich chuckle shivered through her, tickling his hand and tugging at something in his belly. She had a warm, sexy laugh. ‘That would be a novelty.’

He smiled. That was better. The sight of her silver eyes awash with tears had disturbed him, even if it had been in the aftermath of a stunning climax.

He’d gathered her close, ignoring the upsurge of desire as she settled across him. The shadows had lengthened and she’d slept, making him wonder at her exhaustion. Perhaps she hadn’t slept last night either.

Ella Sanderson wasn’t what he’d expected. From her plain cotton bra and knickers, as if she’d deliberately dressed not to entice him, to the look in her eyes when she’d probed about his past.

Donato’s chest clenched. No one since his mother had ever been completely on his side, not even his lawyer. He wasn’t used to it. That explained the weird, full sensation when Ella had looked at him with such sympathy, her mouth a pout of distress.

He shook off a sense of disquiet. Deliberately he pulled her against his erection, enjoying her gasp. He enjoyed holding a woman who was all sweet curves and hollows. He looked forward to exploring every centimetre.

A phone pierced the silence and Ella moved. Donato was surprised at the strength of his urge to tug her back.

‘That’s mine.’ She scrambled across the day bed, breasts swaying, her peach of a backside making his mouth dry as he imagined taking her from behind.

‘It can wait.’ He propped himself on one elbow for a better view. How could a woman who looked as good as Ella doubt her attractiveness? He’d put the pieces together now—her discomfort when he’d called her attractive, her haughtiness that defied him to find fault and the surprise in her silvery eyes when he’d pulled back to admire her.

‘It might be important.’ She scooped up her phone and, before he could stop her, stood.

‘On a Saturday?’ What could be so vital? Another lover? The idea punched his gut. Instinct, or maybe pride, told him Ella wasn’t promiscuous, despite the rampant sex they’d shared. He’d seen her shock when they came together so spectacularly and her dazed disbelief when rapture claimed her.

He guessed her bravado hid a deep reserve.

His gaze lingered on her hourglass figure, slightly broader at the hips and deliciously narrow at the waist. Long shapely legs and hair like dark honey. She wrapped a nearby towel around herself and scowled at the phone.

‘Hello, Dad.’ Her voice was wary. More than wary.

Donato’s interest stirred.

Ella shot a harried glance at him then moved away. But the curve of the building improved the acoustics so he caught part of the conversation.

‘No, it’s not all settled! We’ll find another way.’ She hunched the phone against her ear and pulled back her shoulder-length hair in a gesture that screamed frustration.

‘You wouldn’t! That’s Rob’s money. You have to repay that before you do anything else.’ Another look over her shoulder before she walked to the end of the pool.

Donato watched her long-legged stride. She couldn’t keep still. One hand slashed the air and her mouth turned down as if she’d swallowed something sour.

Talking to Reg Sanderson had that effect on him too.

So there was a rift between father and daughter. He’d guessed that, seeing the lack of affection between them. Plus there was outrage in Ella’s voice when she spoke of Rob’s money. Rob, her brother? Had Sanderson got his claws into his kids’ assets?

Donato shouldn’t have promised not to investigate her and, by extension, her siblings. It tied his hands. There was far more he wanted to know, but having given her his word—

She strode back, her features taut. Something clenched hard inside him.

‘Come here.’ Donato put out his hand. ‘You need someone to help you feel better. I’m just the man.’

His invitation wasn’t entirely selfish. He didn’t like her troubled expression, knowing Sanderson had caused it. Another reason to hate the man.

Ella lifted her hand as if to take his, then stopped.

‘No.’ Her hand dropped and Donato was surprised at the strength of his disappointment. ‘Thank you. But...’ She shook her head and the afternoon sun caught the sheen of honey gilt. ‘I need to go.’

Donato was about to insist she remain when he read the strain around her mouth. He knew he could have her in his bed all night, enjoying what his body urged him to take. He could weasel the information he wanted after breaking down her defences.

He let his arm fall. He wanted Ella’s passion and her sweet body. He wanted to understand her and her relationship with her father. But he wouldn’t seduce the details from her.

His belly churned in a moment of unfamiliar disquiet. He was already taking advantage, pretending to want marriage. It wasn’t just Sanderson pressuring her, putting the shadows beneath her bright eyes.

Amazingly, for the first time in years, doubt shivered through what passed for his conscience. More than doubt, it was guilt, its sharp blade scraping.

Donato sat up, his jaw setting as Ella gathered her clothes. She might be vulnerable and sassy, sexy and funny and, he suspected, brave, but he couldn’t allow her to stand in the way of justice.

Nothing would save Reg Sanderson from his deserts. Not even the fact his daughter was the most appealing, fascinating woman Donato could recall knowing.

He stood, retrieving her floaty top that had landed on the day bed’s high canopy.

‘Thank you.’ Her eyes didn’t meet his and he caught again that hint of embarrassment.

Their hands brushed and sensation jolted. Maldición! Need was like an electric current running through him.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

She shook her head and he had to restrain himself from catching those honey-brown tresses and hauling her close again.

‘I’m busy.’

‘Be ready at nine. I’ll collect you.’