Kate Hardy - A Moment on the Lips

‘I don’t stamp my feet,’ she said, glowering at him.

‘Metaphorically, you’re doing it right now.’

‘So why did you agree to be my mentor?’ She still didn’t quite understand that.

‘Because I owe Gino.’

‘You owe Nonno? Why?’

‘He gave me a break when I was younger, taught me a few things about business. So helping you out of trouble is kind of payback.’

She felt deflated. So he wasn’t doing this because he liked her.

‘You’re right. I don’t like you,’ he agreed—as if she’d said it out loud. Or maybe it was written all over her face. ‘I don’t like what you stand for. The way you were quite happy to take your allowance and swan off round the world, then almost never came back to see your grandparents.’

‘And how would you know anything about that?’

‘Because I saw the wistfulness in Gino’s face whenever he talked about you.’

Her grandfather had talked to Dante about her?

‘He missed you.’

Guilt flooded through her. She hadn’t been fair, but her grandparents had never complained. She didn’t have to give him any explanation for her behaviour; but on the other hand she didn’t want him to think she was completely selfish and spoiled. ‘I was eighteen, Dante. I knew there was a big wide world out there. I wanted to see it. I wanted to know what else there was outside Naples. So, yes, I travelled. I went to Rome, to Milan, to Paris. To Sydney and New York and LA.’

‘Style capitals.’ He didn’t look impressed.

‘Yes, I’ll give you that. The fashion drew me, at first. But then I went to London. To meet my mother’s family. To find out about that side of me. Wouldn’t you have been curious, in my shoes? Wouldn’t you have wanted to meet the side of the family you’d never met?’

That rather depended on what the family was like, Dante thought. He didn’t want anything to do with his father’s family. He’d seen more than enough destruction in the first fourteen years of his life and he didn’t need to see any more. ‘Maybe,’ he said cagily.

‘And I didn’t desert my grandparents. I rang home three times a week. I sent pictures and emails.’

‘Which isn’t the same as being here.’ He paused. ‘What made you come back?’

‘Primarily, Nonno and Nonna’s golden wedding anniversary.’ She sighed. ‘And then I realised they were getting old. My English grandparents had other children and grandchildren to look after them, but Nonno and Nonna only had me. So I thought it was time to come home.’

‘And take over the family business.’

She nodded. ‘Because I’m the last of the Toniellis. I have to step up to the plate.’

It wasn’t what she wanted to do. He could see that. Yet she wasn’t ignoring her duty—and he approved of that.

‘What about your job in the art gallery?’

‘Amy retired—she was ill, and the gallery was too much of a burden. She sold it.’

‘Didn’t the new owner want to keep you on?’

She blew out a breath. ‘Let’s just say we didn’t see eye to eye. So I guess it worked out for the best—I could leave and come back to Naples without letting anyone down.’

‘What was the problem?’

‘He treated me like an airhead. Which,’ she said, ‘I’m not. I could’ve done a degree.’

He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Pushing paper around and partying for three years?’

‘No, a university education teaches you how to think.’ She frowned. ‘I take it you didn’t go to university.’

‘No. And I didn’t miss a thing. I learned a lot more from life.’

‘Didn’t your parents want you to go?’

He didn’t want to talk about his parents. ‘No,’ he said shortly. ‘There’s more to life than studying.’

‘A minute ago, you were kissing me. Now, we’re sniping at each other.’ She shook her head, as if she didn’t have a clue how it had started. ‘Why are we fighting?’

‘Because you don’t understand where I’m coming from, and I don’t understand you. It’s like comparing … oh, apples and oranges. We’re too different.’ Though it didn’t stop him wanting her. And he hated the fact that she could make his control slip.

‘So what are we going to do about this?’ she asked.

‘About what?’

‘You and me.’

‘There is no you and me.’

She moved forward again, just far enough to brush against his erection. ‘No?’

‘There is no you and me,’ he repeated through gritted teeth. He’d agree to mentor her. But it was hard to concentrate on this mentoring stuff when they couldn’t even be in the same room without wanting to rip each other’s clothes off.

‘You’re telling me,’ she said dryly.

He groaned. ‘Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.’

‘You did.’ And she looked mightily pleased about it.

What was wrong with him? He never lost control like this. He’d spent years training himself to have absolute control over his feelings. To make sure that he didn’t turn into his father.

But there was something about Carenza Tonielli. Something that made all his rules just beg to be broken. He bent his head to hers and kissed her again, enjoying the way she responded so hotly to him. The way she opened her mouth beneath his, letting him deepen the kiss. The way her hands curved over his buttocks, pulling him closer.

When he broke the kiss, her eyes were fever-bright and her mouth looked utterly lush. ‘Why don’t you just take me home, Princess?’ he asked softly. ‘Come home with me and do me.’

Her mouth parted. Delectably. Tempting. Perfect, even white teeth; soft, perfect rosebud lips; and she made him ache. God, he wanted her. He couldn’t remember wanting anyone this much in his entire life. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

THEY walked back towards his place in silence. Dante’s head was telling him that this was a seriously bad plan, but his body was insistent that it was the best idea he’d had in years.

He realised that he was walking a bit too fast, given how high Carenza’s heels were, and slowed his pace a bit to accommodate her. She gave him a grateful look.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered. And he had to look away from her before he did something really stupid. Like pinning her against the nearest wall and kissing her until they were both dizzy. The way he was feeling right now, they’d end up getting arrested for public indecency.

What was it about Carenza Tonielli that made him lose control like this?

And that made her the worst possible person he could be with. Because losing control absolutely wasn’t an option for him. Not with his background. He couldn’t afford to take that risk.

He still hadn’t got himself completely back in control when she stopped him outside a pharmacy.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘Supplies,’ she said. ‘Unless you already have some.’

Supplies? Then he realised what she meant. How the hell had that slipped his mind? ‘Uh. No. I haven’t. Wait here.’

He emerged with a pack of condoms in his pocket. It made him feel a bit like a schoolboy. Then he shook himself. This was simply getting rid of a distraction that was annoying both of them. Sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Once they’d got that out of the way, everything was going to be just fine. His head would be clear. So would hers. He’d help her fix her business and she’d be out of his life. No more complications.

The nearer they got to the restaurant, the more tense his muscles became.

Well, this had been his suggestion. Good or bad, he had to live with the consequences.

He went round to the side entrance and unlocked the door to let her in. It slammed behind them—and then everything bubbled over and his control snapped. He pinned her against the wall, kissing her hard. God, she was so soft, smelled so sweet …