Cathy Williams - The Italian's One-Night Consequence

‘Sorry,’ she apologised sheepishly. ‘You hit a sore spot there.’

Leo paused and looked down at her, holding her eyes with his, his expression speculative.

Her body trembled as she gazed back up at him, her eyes undoubtedly betraying her want.

‘I’ll be on my way,’ Leo murmured, breaking eye contact to stare up the road which was still as busy now as it had been hours previously. New York was not the only city, it would seem, that never slept.

‘Leo...’ Maddie breathed.

She wanted him. She didn’t know whether it was because she was lonely or because the unexpected stirring of attraction had reminded her that she was still young after all. Maybe he had unlocked some realisation that she couldn’t remain a prisoner of her past for the rest of her life.

Or maybe he was just so damned sexy that she simply couldn’t resist the pull of raw, primal lust.

Two ships passing in the night, she thought...

‘Do you want me to kiss you?’ Leo asked on a husky murmur, still not touching her.

‘No!’ Thank goodness they had managed to find themselves in a quiet corner of the otherwise busy street.

‘Then you need to stop looking at me like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like you want to eat me up...like you’d like me to eat you up.’

‘Leo...’

‘We’re both adults,’ Leo delivered on a rough undertone, ‘so I’ll be honest. You’re spectacular-looking and I want you more than I can remember wanting any woman for a long time. I want to touch you. I want to taste you... everywhere. But I don’t do long-term and in this instance we’re talking a one-night stand. A one-night stand to remember, but still a one-night stand. If you don’t like that, then walk away, Maddie.’

‘I always promised myself that I would never have a one-night stand,’ Maddie said, by rote, but her body was certainly not walking away. Indeed, it was staying very firmly put.

Leo shrugged, holding her gaze.

Confusion tore through Maddie, because she wasn’t lying. She’d never been a one-night stand kind of girl. From a young age her looks had attracted attention, and she had learned very fast that attention from the opposite sex more often than not bypassed the important stuff—like getting to know her, giving her credit for having a brain and seeing beyond the fact that she was, in Leo’s words, ‘spectacular-looking’. Adam had only served to cement those lessons in her head.

But...

But, but, but...

‘Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?’ she hazarded.

Leo’s eyebrows shot up. He refused to let her hide behind the cup of coffee scenario. ‘You want me. And I want you. I’ll accept the offer of coffee, but I’m not interested in a push-pull game of one step forward followed by two back.’

‘Nor am I.’ She tiptoed forward, filled with a sense of heady daring, and brushed his perfect mouth with hers.

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