The Italian's Passionate Proposal. Sarah Morgan

hunger, but he veiled it quickly and gave a lopsided smile.

      ‘I don’t think we’d better do that for too long, cara mia,’ he said dryly. ‘We might both explode.’

      Totally blown away by his kiss, Zan tried to speak and failed.

      He touched her cheek with a gentle finger. ‘You know what?’ He was totally relaxed and easy with himself. ‘I could really do with taking a shower. My jeans are soaked because someone threw me on my back in a puddle.’

      She loved the way he took the seriousness out of every situation. ‘You’re joking! Who would do an evil thing like that?’

      ‘I can’t imagine, but when I track them down they’re going to be punished.’ He pulled her against him and gave her another lingering kiss. ‘Maybe we should get out of these wet clothes before we both freeze. Can I put my jeans in your tumble-drier and take a shower?’

      She nodded and gestured towards the kitchen. ‘It’s through there. Help yourself.’

      His eyes were very dark. ‘Are you going to join me?’

      No.

      Resolving to be more daring was all very well, but you couldn’t change the habit of a lifetime in an hour!

      It was all too fast.

      Zan shook her head and he gave her a warm smile and strolled into her kitchen, emerging moments later with an apologetic look on his face and his jeans dangling from one hand.

      ‘I don’t know how to use a tumble-drier.’

      Carlo’s humble confession broke the ice and she laughed, trying not to look at his tanned, strong legs. He had an incredible physique—athletic and powerful.

      No wonder the muggers had run.

      ‘More of the macho Italian guy stuff, I suppose? Who does your washing at home? Or maybe I shouldn’t ask that question.’

      ‘I have a housekeeper,’ he told her, and she walked over to him and took the wet jeans out of his hand, still keeping her eyes averted.

      ‘Well, she hasn’t trained you very well.’ She popped them into the tumble-drier, turned the dial and started the machine. ‘I assume you know how the shower works, or does your housekeeper do that bit, too?’

      His midnight-dark eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘I’m OK with the shower, but I’ve never really got the hang of undressing myself.’

      No man should be allowed to have a smile that sexy. It had a lethal effect on her pulse-rate.

      ‘Well, if you don’t want another black eye you’d better learn quickly,’ she said, ignoring his laughter and hurrying past him. ‘I’ll fetch you a towel.’

      The shower was running by the time she returned with the towel and she half opened the door and talked through the crack.

      ‘I’ll leave the towel on the floor.’

      ‘Pardon?’ His voice was muffled from the water and she leaned in slightly further, averting her eyes from the shower cubicle.

      ‘I said I’ll leave the towel on the floor.’

      ‘I can’t hear you.’

      She sidled in a bit further and strong arms grabbed her and hauled her under the steaming jet of water.

      ‘You pig!’ Laughing and squealing, she thumped him hard, spluttering and screwing up her eyes against the water. ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘Economising on water.’ He was laughing, too, and she gasped as he pulled her close and kissed her, ignoring the water that was raining down on both of them.

      She leaned into him and kissed him back, and suddenly the laughter stopped and the kissing intensified until their mouths fused hungrily, the chemistry a living, powerful force between them.

      Her whole body was singing with excitement and suddenly she was breathlessly aware of his arousal and the fact that he was totally naked.

      An unbearable ache was building between her thighs, but when she felt his fingers on the zip of her soaked jeans she reached down and grabbed his hands, stopping him.

      What was she doing?

      His skill and experience had her at flashpoint in seconds, but the speed with which he could reduce her to a shivering mass of desperation made her nervous. She’d only ever kissed boys before and Carlo certainly wasn’t that. He was a fully adult male and he wasn’t playing games.

      ‘Wait—it’s too fast…’ The water was streaming over her hair and down her back and he reached out a hand to stem the flow, speaking softly to her in Italian as he held her against him.

      ‘You want me to stop?’ He switched to English and she struggled to control her response.

      ‘Yes— No…’ She was shaking against him and he gave a groan and slid a warm hand over her back.

      ‘Have you any idea how much I want you?’

      Zan gave him a shaky smile, breathlessly aware of his masculinity. He had a fantastic body. His confidence with his own sexuality was in complete contrast to her own inexperience and she felt completely out of her depth.

      From the moment she’d stared into his eyes in the snowy street she’d decided that even if she only had sex once in her whole life, she wanted it to be with this man. But now that the moment had come she felt hideously unsure.

      Carlo probably thought that any woman who was prepared to kiss him in a public place was equally experienced and relaxed about sex.

      She was still panicking when she felt a warm, soft towel draped around her shoulders.

      ‘Take off your wet jeans and go and put on your least provocative outfit,’ Carlo said, his voice infinitely gentle as he stepped back and let her step out of the shower.

      She bit her lip and looked at him anxiously. ‘I…thought we were going to…’

      ‘Well, we’re not,’ he said softly. ‘At least, not yet. You’re not totally sure and I want you to be totally sure.’

      She hesitated and shook her head, painfully self-conscious. ‘It’s just a bit fast. I don’t know you— I can’t—’

      ‘So we slow it down.’

      He made it sound perfectly simple and she looked at him shyly, surprised that he wasn’t more annoyed with her. ‘And you’re OK with that?’

      ‘Well, I’ll need a lot of cold showers,’ he admitted ruefully, ‘but we’ve already agreed that if I step out of line you can black my other eye, so I’ll do my best to hold back as long as I can. Now, go and get dressed quickly.’

      When Zan arrived back in the sitting room Carlo had the towel wrapped around his hips, his black hair damp and tousled from the shower as he flicked through her CD collection.

      ‘Carlo.’ She came to a halt in front of him, her smile hesitant. ‘Are you angry?’

      He glanced up. ‘Of course not.’ He seemed surprised by the question. ‘Why would I be?’

      Zan thought of all the conversations she’d overheard when her brothers hadn’t known she was listening, and bit her lip.

      ‘Because I made you think that I… I’m sorry if you thought I… I didn’t mean to lead you on…’

      Ebony brows came together in a frown. ‘You are always entitled to say no, cara mia.’

      ‘But I didn’t want to say no,’ she said quickly, a blush touching her cheek. ‘Not exactly. But it all seemed a bit quick and— I know you’re very confident, but, you see, I’ve never actually done it before.’

      She broke off, painfully aware of the stunned expression in his gorgeous eyes.

      She