Annie West - Ruthless Revenge - Sweet Surrender - Seducing His Enemy's Daughter / Surrendering to the Vengeful Italian / Soldier Under Siege

She felt crowded, surrounded.

Excited.

Silence thickened. The saw of her breathing seemed loud, as did the quickened patter of her pulse. But it was the sensations detonating through her body that panicked Ella.

Donato had sabotaged all her erogenous zones, attuning them to his touch. Her lips tingled as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her nipples budded against the sensible bra she wore, as if mocking her determination not to dress up for Donato. Her silky top stirred as she hauled in deeper breaths, the touch of fabric a barely there caress. And between her legs...

Ella swallowed hard, drowning in the slumberous heat of those searing eyes.

‘Let me go, Donato.’ Her voice was as shaky as she felt. Not with fear, but because her body came alive so instantly, so completely, at his touch.

With every atom of her being she was aware of his big frame mere inches from her own. It was as if he projected a force-field that sent shock waves across her skin and deeper, heating her core.

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve waited too long.’ His palm slid down her cheek to caress her jaw then thrust back into her hair. Ella’s neck arched and she bit down a sigh at the luxurious feel of his fingers against her scalp. Tiny little shivers coursed down her back and shoulders.

‘Rubbish.’ Her voice was far too soft. She cleared her throat and tried to summon the energy to move away. Her knees had grown wobbly. ‘We haven’t known each other a day.’

Remarkable to think it was less than twenty-four hours since they met.

Donato bent his head even closer and Ella’s breath hitched. He held her captive with that remarkable dark blue gaze. ‘It’s still been too long. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.’ The words were pure seduction, low and tantalising.

Ella told herself it was just a line he tossed out, but even then she couldn’t dredge up the power to move. Stunned, she teetered on the brink of losing herself. She swallowed, her mouth drying at what she read in his stare.

‘Don’t take me for a fool, Donato.’ Despite her indignation her tongue slowed on his name, savouring it. She looked up into that austere, scarred, compelling face and wished, for once in her life, that she really was the beauty in the family. The sort to turn even this man’s head. ‘You came to the party expecting my sister, not me.’

‘And how pleased I was that she couldn’t make it.’ The words were a caress.

‘No!’ She jerked back, finally breaking from his hold. ‘Don’t pretend you were bowled over by my looks or my glittering personality. It won’t work.’ Ella had learned long ago, growing up in her sister’s shadow, that she wasn’t the sort to turn male heads. Pain twisted, razor-sharp, in her chest.

‘You don’t believe me, sweet Ella?’

Damn the man. Even that easy endearment sent her heart tumbling. Was she really that needy? So ready to be seduced by a show of attention?

Yet even as she lashed up indignation she knew she was fooling herself. Despite her protests that sense of connection between them was as real as it was inexplicable. It had slammed through her the moment she’d turned to find Donato’s eyes on her at the party. It had sung in her veins as she’d sparred with him under her father’s horrified gaze. It had turned her on as she lay naked in bed, wishing he was there with her instead of taunting her with that sultry deep voice over the phone.

‘Don’t toy with me, Donato.’ She pressed her lips together.

‘You don’t trust me, do you?’

Her chin hiked up. ‘Not an inch.’

‘Maybe this will convince you.’ He grabbed her hand and, before she could yank it free, placed it on his chest.

Instantly she stilled. The hard staccato beat of his heart pounded beneath her palm. It wasn’t the steady pulse of a man in control. It was the rapid pulse of a man on the brink. Her eyes widened.

Runnels of fire traced across Ella’s skin as she met eyes the colour of twilight. His gaze bored into her, challenging yet, incredibly it seemed, honest.

‘I want you, Ella.’ His gaze pinioned her. ‘And you want me.’

Before she could form a reply his big hand lifted to the upper slope of her breast, palm down. ‘See? We match.’

It was true. Her heartbeat careered just as fast as his. And all she could think about was how it would feel if he slid his hand just a little lower, to cup her breast.

A hot chill raced through her and desire spiked. Her breath grew ragged.

As if reading her mind, Donato slipped his hand down to cover her breast. Ella bit her lip to shut in a gasp of delight. But she couldn’t stop herself from pressing nearer, eyes closing as his hand moulded her soft flesh. Something like relief welled.

He moved and her eyes snapped open. Gripping her arm, he stepped in against her, powering her back until her spine collided with something solid.

They stood toe to toe, hip to thigh, torso to torso and she shivered at how good that felt. Even the scent of him in her nostrils was delicious. The sheer potency of his big body was a promise and, she realised belatedly, a threat.

‘No!’ She lifted her hands to his shoulders and pushed. He didn’t budge. He was as immovable as the Harbour Bridge. ‘I don’t care what deal you and my father have sewn up. You can’t force me. Let me go!’

His jaw set and she watched that pulse throb at his temple. He breathed deep, his nostrils flaring. Then, to her surprise, he stepped back. He stood just inches away, his breath hot on her face, the force-field of his body making her flesh prickle and spark.

‘This isn’t about any deal, Ella. This is about us.’

‘There is no us .’

‘Of course there is. You feel it too, the awareness between us. The desire.’

She felt it all right. It scared her as nothing else ever had that she could recall.

‘You think having sex will convince me to marry you?’ Her chest rose and fell with her choppy breathing. ‘You think you’re that good in bed? Or are you relying on blackmail to force me since my sister is out of reach?’

‘Don’t be a coward, Ella.’

She stiffened. One thing she’d stopped being long ago was a coward. After the life she’d had to endure with her father, the continual battle for respect since love was denied her, she’d earned the right to hold her head high.

‘I’m no coward.’ It came out through clenched teeth.

‘You’re looking for excuses.’ Donato raised his hands. ‘Forget your father. Forget the wedding and the business deal. Forget your sister. I was never interested in her.’

Ella scrutinised his face but his look was sincere. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth and she swallowed hard.

‘This is about you and me. I’m telling you I want you. The question is, are you woman enough to admit you want me too?’

‘With you holding my father’s potential bankruptcy over our heads?’

Donato shook his head. ‘There are two separate issues here.’ He spoke slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘There’s my business deal with your father, and yes, the proposal for a wedding is tied to that. But,’ he continued when she would have interrupted, ‘that’s not what we’re discussing right now. No one is forcing you into anything. Believe me, I would never force a woman into my bed.’

Ella stared into his face, noting how those dark features set in stern lines of rigid control. There was hauteur in the flash of his eyes and pride in the set of his shoulders.

She believed him. The realisation rocked her.

‘What we’re discussing now is sex.’ His voice turned deep and liquid on the word, matching the slow-burning need inside Ella. ‘You and me. Uncomplicated, satisfying, scorching.’