Priceless: Bought for the Sicilian Billionaire's Bed / Bought: The Greek's Baby

‘C-come to bed,’ she said shakily.

He laughed softly as he joined her on the bed and she reached for him.

‘You are hungry for me, little one?’

‘I’m absolutely starving, if you must know!’

‘Well, then—come here.’ With one slick movement he removed her bra, then turned his attention to her naked breasts, first with his eyes and then letting his lips roam over their hard pink tips. He licked her, felt her shiver. ‘Mmm. You taste of honey, and desire. You taste good.’

And his words made her feel good—so good that she wanted to throw inhibition to the wind. Shyly, she reached down to stroke him, feeling him jerk beneath her hand.

For one second, Salvatore stilled as something in her tentative gesture made a warning bell sound deep in his subconscious. He laid one hand over the fingers which lay so intimately over his flesh, mentally gearing himself up for a scenario which had only just occurred to him. And wondering how he could have been so stupid. For had not one of his beloved cousins been trapped by a woman in such a way?

‘Please tell me you are not a virgin?’ he demanded, his voice suddenly harsh.

Jessica didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Did that mean he equated her fumbling with a complete lack of experience? ‘No, of course I’m not. Would it matter if I was?’

He took his hand away and moved over her, stroking her hair away from her face. ‘Of course it would matter! But it is not important. Not now. Only this matters. This … ’

And he blocked all words and thoughts with his lips. For a moment Jessica struggled against the wall of pleasure which was beginning to build, her thoughts uneasy as something in his attitude troubled her, though she wasn’t quite sure what.

Quickly concern gave way to pleasure—how could it not, when Salvatore was the most wonderful lover imaginable? He kissed every inch of her body, she had never known that a man could find so much delight in the discovery of flesh alone.

‘You like that?’ he questioned silkily as his tongue found a particularly vulnerable area.

‘I …’ Jessica shut her eyes and shuddered. ‘I … ’

‘Tell me,’ he urged.

‘No one has ever done that to me before,’ she breathed.

‘And this?’

‘Oh, Salvatore,’ she whispered. ‘Yes.’

He took her along familiar pathways of delight and to his astonishment discovered that, for him, she was the perfect lover. So it was not a sham after all. She was not a virgin, but neither was she particularly accomplished. Inexperienced but not innocent—perfetto.

But she was also very sweet. Too sweet really, he thought wryly, as she pulled his head towards her and showered him with tiny kisses which made him tingle with delight. Did she not know that a woman should always hold something back in order to completely entrance a man?

‘Jessica,’ he said, in a voice which was suddenly unsteady, and he could wait no longer, he reached for protection as she writhed beneath him.

‘Yes, now,’ she whispered. ‘Now.’

‘Then damned well keep still for a minute!’

‘I c-can’t.’

‘Neither can I,’ he groaned as he thrust into her. ‘Mia tesoro.’

It was amazing. She was amazing—and he couldn’t work out why. Was it her eagerness to please him? Her breathless pleasure as she worked out what made him moan with delight? Or her sheer joy when the first orgasm rocked her small, curvy body and she clung to him, choking out her pleasure and a few broken syllables which sounded a bit like his name?

Afterwards, Salvatore collapsed back against the disarray of pillows, his skin sweat-sheened, his heart racing like a piston as he stared at the ceiling, gasping for breath, like a man who had been pulled out of the water just before he drowned.

And Jessica snuggled up to him, resting her silky head in the crook of his arm as if that was the place she most wanted to be.

‘Mmm,’ she sighed. ‘That was … bliss.’

A habitual post-lovemaking wariness began to creep over him. He was going to have to be very honest with her about the limitations of an affair with him—but surely she was sensible enough to recognise that there could be no future in this?

‘Mmm.’ He yawned, and edged away from her very fractionally. ‘I’m hungry now, aren’t you?’

She wanted to say, Not for food, I’m not—the way she would have done a few minutes ago, when they were making love and she seemed to have been given the most delicious freedom to indulge and tell him about every single one of her secret fantasies.

But something had changed—she could tell. Salvatore had withdrawn from her in more ways than one. It was true that in this bizarre situation she was probably being acutely sensitive, but it was quite clear that his mood towards her had changed, become cooler. What happened now—was she expected to get dressed and just go home?

‘Shall I go and get us something to eat?’ he questioned lazily.

And Jessica hated herself for the overwhelming sense of relief she felt that she wasn’t to be dismissed like a servant. Hated herself even more for just accepting it—for allowing Salvatore to dictate the terms of what happened next.

But how could she do otherwise when she felt so blissfully alive in his arms—as if up until that moment her life had seemed without direction and the whole reason for being born had just been made clear to her?

‘Yes, please,’ she said, forcing herself down from the clouds. She’d barely touched a thing all weekend. She’d been to visit her grandmother, who had asked her if she was sickening for something when Jessica had done the unheard of and refused a slice of her famous lemon drizzle cake. But what could she have said to the much-loved woman who had brought her up after the death of her parents? No, I’ve lost my appetite because I think I’m going to end up in bed with my boss on Tuesday. Wouldn’t that go against everything she’d been taught?

He flicked her an amused glance as he climbed out of bed, gloriously and goldenly assured in his nakedness. ‘Thank heavens for that,’ he murmured. ‘A little loss of appetite in the restaurant was understandable—but I can’t bear women who do sustained starvation as a matter of course.’

‘Er, no. Neither can I.’ Maybe she should pass that nugget of information on to Willow—who, of course, would never believe her. ‘Should I get up?’

His eyes lingered over her. She looked deliciously tousled with her cheeks flushed pink and her grey eyes huge. ‘No. Stay right there. You look enchanting. We’ll have a picnic in bed.’

Once he’d gone, Jessica hurried into the bathroom and tried to tame her hair. Then she got back into bed and rather self-consciously sat there waiting for him until he returned carrying a tray loaded with expensive-looking goodies.

Champagne. Grapes. Some crusty-looking bread. And there was a lovely wooden box containing cheese—as well as a box of dark chocolate.

‘That all looks wonderful,’ she said brightly.

He heard the nerves in her voice and put the tray down and took her into his arms.

‘You’ve brushed your hair,’ he observed softly.

‘Combed it. I borrowed your comb—I hope that was okay?’

Behind the tentative query, he heard a million other questions. From past displays of post-coital neediness, Salvatore knew that this was the most vulnerable time of all for a woman and the best time for ground rules to be laid down.

‘You can borrow anything you like, while you’re here,’ he said easily.

The words should have reassured her, but they did just the opposite. Silently, Jessica acknowledged that she needed to know where she stood. At work, she might just be his office cleaner—but she had just shared his bed. Surely that gave her the right to know what he wanted from her?

‘You asked me a question earlier,’ she said.