The Unwanted Conti Bride. Tara Pammi

head. “If you tell anyone, I’ll cut off—”

      He burst out laughing again.

      “Go to hell,” she whispered, her petite frame radiating fury. Most of it self-directed, he knew, for Sophia hated betraying any emotion that made her weak.

      He caught her wrist and pulled her inside the large, and thankfully empty, lounge behind them. Backing her into the wall, he pulled her arms above her.

      The disdain in her eyes, the arrogant jut of her chin... It was like pouring petrol over a spark. Jerked at every primal instinct he had carefully banished from his life. Her breasts heaved as she fought him, as if they too fought against being confined.

      “You thought you would propose marriage and walk away? You did not think I would find it entertaining?”

      “You’re a remorseless bastard.” It was the first time she’d hinted at their past.

      Regret was a faint pang in Luca’s chest. Only faint.

      Did he regret that he had hurt her ten years ago? Si.

      So much that if given the chance he wouldn’t do it again? Non.

      He was far too selfish to willingly deny himself the true joy he’d found with her in those few weeks. “And you love playing the uptight shrew far too much.”

      Outrage, and most improbably, hurt, transformed her muddy brown eyes into a thousand hues of golds and bronzes.

      Her stubborn, too-prominent nose flared. Incongruously wide mouth in a small face flushed a deep pink. The hourglass figure swathed in the most horrific black dress rubbed against him, bringing him to painful arousal.

      In front of his eyes, she became something else.

      She became the Sophia he’d known once and hadn’t been able to resist, the Sophia he’d kissed with wonder, the Sophia she’d been before he had beat all the softness out of her.

      She grunted and gave herself away, seconds before she raised her knee to his groin.

      “How would this marriage of ours...prosper and proliferate if you turn me into a castrato, Sophia?”

      Dancing his lower body away from her kick, he used the momentum to slam her harder into his hip. Her soft belly pressed and flushed into the lines of his body, his hip bone digging into it, as if it meant to make a groove for itself against her.

      A softer gasp escaped her this time, throaty and wrenched away from the part of her she hid so well. So well that he had often wondered if he had known her so intimately once. That short huff for breath stroked Luca’s nerves. Like strings of a violin...

      Thick, wavy locks of hair fell from the ugly knot at the back of her head, touching the strong planes of her face with softness. The floral scent of her shampoo, something so incongruous with the woman she was, or pretended to be, fluttered under his nose. Luca pressed his nose into the thick, wavy mass. Kneaded the tense planes of her upper back as if he could calm himself by calming her.

      He had never forgotten his amazement at the fire that had flared between them, how easily his plan had gone utterly wrong ten years ago. How, even for his jaded palate, Sophia had proved to be too much of a temptation.

      Dio, suggesting marriage to him, of all men... Hadn’t she learned her lesson? Why was she tempting the devil in him?

      He was tempted. What man wouldn’t want to muss up those ugly dresses and that shrewish facade and want to find the soft woman beneath? What man wouldn’t want a claim on that kind of loyalty, on that steely core of her?

      He set her away from him, none too gently. Lust riding him hard, he drew one rattling breath after another.

      He controlled the pursuit of pleasure and the pleasure itself. Without shame or scruples, he used his charm, his looks, to draw women to him, amused himself for a time and then walked away.

      He’d carefully built his life to be that and nothing more. He’d trampled her innocence even when he’d intended to do the right thing once. But in the end, he’d left. He would walk away again.

      After having a small taste. She really expected it of him—to behave abominably, to torture her with his lascivious words and deeds. He couldn’t disappoint her.

      His humor restored, he eased his grip on her. Instantly she shoved at him. He didn’t budge. “I can think of an infinitely more pleasurable and mature way to vent your frustration.”

      “It’s hard to be mature when you laugh in my face like this.”

      “Your dignity is that fragile? The Sophia I keep hearing about in boardrooms and business mergers is apparently nothing short of Goddess Diana.”

      He curved his mouth into his trademark smile. Her glare didn’t dim one bit. If anything, she stiffened even more.

      Dio, when was the last time he had had such fun? And they hadn’t even shed their clothes yet. “I was right, it is I that gets under your skin.”

      Her eyelids fell slowly. A second to restore her quaking defenses. Right on cue, she looked up, her fiery glare renewed. “I forgot that it’s all a big joke to you.”

      “Being a debauched playboy who cares for nothing is hard work.”

      “I was stupid to think we could have a mature conversation. All you—”

      “Then persuade me.”

      “What?”

      Surprise in her gaze filled him with a strange satisfaction. Shocking, needling, generally startling Sophia out of that hard shell could become addictive. “Persuade me. Indulge me. Make me an irresistible offer.”

      * * *

      Make herself irresistible to the most beautiful man on the face of the planet? A man who held nothing sacred?

      “I have a better chance of finding treasure in my backyard,” she said softly. Wistfulness snuck into her voice and she cringed.

      “Kiss me, then.”

      “What?” She rubbed her temples, dismayed at how he reduced her to a mumbling idiot.

      “Put your lips on mine and pucker them up. Your hands can go on my shoulders or my hips or if you’re feeling bold, you can grab my ass—”

      “What? Why?” Years of oratory at debate club evaporated, her brain only offering whats and whys.

      “That should be the first step for a couple considering marriage, si? I could never marry a woman who didn’t know how to kiss.”

      Don’t. Look. At. His. Mouth. “It’s obvious you’re only torturing me and will never really consider it and you...” She looked and the contoured lushness of it made her lick her own lips, which made him grin and prompted her to raise her gaze. “Your lover is lying in your bed and you’re—”

      “If you’d been paying attention and not mooning over me—” Sophia fisted her hands, just fighting the urge to wipe that satisfied smile off his face, for he was right, damned devil “—then you would know that Mariana and I are over.”

      “You just said you wore her out!” Her brow cleared. “You said that just to rile me up, didn’t you? There was hardly any time between when you left and I found you for you to...to—” She couldn’t believe what her logic led her to say. If only she could stop blushing! “—wear her out.”

      “I actually don’t need that much time to get my lover off—”

      “Where is she?” Sophia cut him off.

      “She’s a lightweight and I kept plying her with drinks. Her husband’s divorcing her, which is what she wanted, but she’s a little emotional about it. I couldn’t just...throw her out of the party when she was in such a state.”

      “No, of course, not. They all adore you even when you’re done with them.”

      *