Latin Lovers: Hot-Blooded Sicilians: Valentino's Love-Child / The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal / Sicilian Millionaire, Bought Bride. Catherine Spencer

every time they came together.

      “You never flinch from me.” The wonder that laced his voice embarrassed him a little, but like so many things with this woman—was an uncontrollable response.

      In so many ways she was dangerous to him, but he continued to play Russian Roulette with his emotions—risking the promises he had made to his dead wife. His brain told him he should get out before he got in too deep, but everything inside him rebelled at the idea.

      “Why would I?” Her brows wrinkled in genuine confusion. “We are a perfect fit.”

      Perfect only because she relaxed so well for him—for she was tight. Oh, so damn tight. “So, perfect.”

      “Mmmm …” She licked her lips. “You’re big, but it’s good, Tino.”

      “It is better than good.”

      “Yessss …” she hissed as he finally sheathed himself to the hilt in her fantastic heat.

      He tucked her legs around his hips. “I need to kiss you.”

      “Please, Tino.” She was straining toward him even as he brought their mouths together.

      Nothing had ever felt so good.

      The part of his brain where guilt resided rejected that thought even as he set a steady, slow rhythm. Kissing, their bodies moved together in a motion filled with tenderness he did not want to examine.

      He could feel her desire building as was his. He refused to go over, no matter how much his body clamored for the ultimate release. He was determined to bring her to another shattering peak. Her second climax would be more intense than the first. It would be more.

      Of its own volition, his pelvis swiveled on each downward thrust, as if his body had been trained to pleasure this woman exactly as she needed. Pavlov’s response. Her pleasure gave him intense satisfaction and pleasure, therefore he did all that he could to bring out every little gasp, each sweet moan, every tightening of her muscles, each shudder she could not control.

      Suddenly they were both coming together, his own orgasm taking him over before he could even hope to stop it.

      But he did not want to as she contracted around him, her peak lasting seconds that turned into minutes while his body vibrated with matching sensation until his muscles felt like they would collapse.

      Their mouths separated, allowing each of them to take in gasps of air and he collapsed, managing only to deflect part of his weight to the side, but maintaining skin contact. From past experience, he knew she preferred that. Thank the Holy Mother because he could not have moved if he tried.

      “Thank you.”

      “No, cara, thank you.”

      She made another sound, but he knew she would slide into sleep soon. People said men fell asleep after sex, but he rarely did. His little American lover, however, experienced orgasm as some kind of somnolence button. He did not mind. He looked forward to these moments when he could cuddle her without having to put up his macho facade.

      But tonight he did something he never did. Or at least had not until their last time together in his apartment in Marsala. He let his body relax in preparation for sleep.

      Although Giosue woke early, Valentino always woke even earlier. He was not worried about being caught with her. Besides, there just seemed to be something so cold about kicking her out of his bed after such an intense experience. It had been getting harder and harder to do so lately, anyway.

      He was going to have to get a handle on this softening of his relationship rules, but not tonight. He wanted to sleep, for just a little while, holding Faith.

      Gio would never know and therefore could not be hurt by it. He would no doubt sleep even later than he normally did on a Saturday morning. Valentino had allowed his son to stay up later than usual because of their guest.

      Their guest.

       His lover.

      He mentally shook his head at that. He would never have guessed that she was so ingrained in the life of his family. He still was not sure how he felt about that, but he wasn’t going to dwell on it tonight. Tomorrow was soon enough to try to figure out how the woman who had shared his bed for almost a year was such an enigma to him.

      Just as it would be soon enough to reinstate his necessary rules for the women who shared his bed. Or perhaps he should reconsider those rules for Faith. At least a little.

      After all, she was more than a mere bed partner.

      She was his friend.

      A friend he apparently knew less about than any of his business rivals. And he trusted her enough to share an intimate side of his life.

      For the second time ever, Faith woke in the arms of her lover.

      Tino had allowed her to sleep in his bed? In his family home?

      Maybe he really had given her more last night.

      Or had that move been an unconscious one? It didn’t really matter if he had considered it, or acted on instinct—it had to mean something.

      Just as his promise not to go searching for that perfect Sicilian paragon right away meant something. Gio was Tino’s heart, but the dedicated father had still reaffirmed his commitment not to date other women while he and Faith were together.

      She’d thought her heart was being ripped right out of her chest when he said he thought Gio might need a new mother, but that mother could not be Faith. She’d been angry and hurt and scared and a lot of other emotions that confused her because she couldn’t be sure if they were genuine or induced by the pregnancy hormones rampaging through her body.

      The two pregnancies she’d had before had sparked serious inner upheavals as well. She and Tay would have argued constantly if he hadn’t taken her hormone-driven insecurities in his stride. Would Tino have the same patience? Did she want him to? There had been instances when Tay’s tolerance had felt more patronizing than understanding.

      Right now she felt she was out of control when it came to her feelings and she didn’t enjoy the experience. There had been times the night before she’d been sorely tempted to sock Tino good and hard, but then the pendulum that was her emotions had swung to needing the reassurance that sex provided.

      She didn’t think Tino was any surer of his feelings than she was. Because in the same conversation he’d spoken of getting Gio a Sicilian mother, he’d also spoken of not wanting to end things with Faith. He knew she wouldn’t be any man’s mistress.

      Early in their acquaintance, she’d made sure he was aware of how she felt about those kinds of double standards.

      Their intimacy last night had been awesome, she couldn’t deny it. She’d felt more connected to Tino than ever before. He’d been so intent on giving her pleasure, but more than that, he’d given her something of himself. It was in the way he’d moved inside her, with an undisputable tenderness that brought tears to her eyes just before they’d found the ultimate pleasure together.

      As much as she hated to, she forced herself to slide from his embrace. Even if she thought Tino could handle it, she did not want to be caught in his bed by anyone in his household, but especially by Gio. She loved the little boy too much to spring such a relationship on him without some sort of leading up to it.

      He might be playing matchmaker, but that didn’t mean he was ready for the reality of his father having a lover, a woman who had taken his mother’s place in the huge four-poster bed. She still could not believe they had made love in his bedroom. That not only had he initiated the lovemaking, but he had carried her in here.

      She took a quick shower in his en suite, halting midstep on the way out by the sight of the statue on his dresser. It was of a faceless woman, her arms outstretched to a man holding a baby boy. The man was faceless and so was the baby, but she knew it was male.

      How