The Unwanted Conti Bride. Tara Pammi

a pang in his chest.

      “You’re free to adore me, too, cara. No one will have to know.”

      She snorted. That inelegant movement of that sharp, stubborn nose made him chuckle. “God, really, you don’t need any more admirers, secret or otherwise. And I’m not kissing you.”

      Pink and wide, her mouth was like a long bow, the only feature in her face that was soft and vulnerable. A pillow of lushness. It betrayed that tough-as-nails, no-nonsense persona of hers.

      He desperately wanted to feel it under his own, wanted to taste all that pent-up passion. One kiss wouldn’t hurt. She was the one who’d cornered him, the one throwing outrageous ideas at him, the one looking all delectably confined and uptight in that dress. “How do you expect me to believe you’re not playing a joke on me with this proposal? Maybe this is revenge? Maybe you intend to make me fall in love with you, and then leave me at the altar pining for you? Maybe...”

      Brown eyes glittering, wide mouth mobile, she laughed. It was a full-throttled laugh, deep and husky. The kind that came all the way from your stomach, burned through your lungs, leaving you a little dizzy. Her body shook all over.

      The sound stole into Luca, filling every hungry crevice inside him. It was one that could cut through the darkest space, filling it with light. “What is so funny?”

      “You, falling in love. With me.”

      He said it softly. “The whole world assumes Sophia Rossi is tough, brave, the conqueror of every challenge. Decimator of men. Only I know what a coward you are.”

      It fell in the space between them like a weapon, and he waited, breath balling up in his lungs. Anger and apprehension vied in her face until she covered the distance between them. He didn’t know if she was going to slap him or kiss him or castrate him. No woman could create that mystery except Sophia. No woman had ever filled his veins with this heady anticipation.

      Fingers on the lapels of his shirt, she jerked him close. “No one calls me a coward, you manipulative bastard.”

      Throaty and tart, growly and yet with a deep vein of need pulsing beneath, it was Sophia to the end. Brave Sophia accepting facts and meeting them head-on. Dutiful Sophia kissing the man she hated just to hear him out.

      Short and curvy, she barely came up to his chest. Hands on his shoulders, she pulled herself up, as if to elongate herself. Like a vine clinging to a cement wall.

      That pressed every inch of her to him. Lush breasts, followed by such a thin waist that he wondered how it held up those glorious curves, then flaring into rounded hips, hips a man would anchor himself on while he thrust inside her. Shapely thighs that would clutch a man tight as he jerked in pleasure within her velvet heat.

      Again and again, until he forgot what or who he was.

      Such heat rolled over his skin that Luca’s fingers dug into her soft flesh.

      With a protesting moan, she stilled her mouth on his. The tips of their noses collided and a soft sigh left her. Hot breath kissed his hungry lips. Then she moved that mouth again. Testing and trying. This way and that. Halting thoughtfully and then hurrying along urgently when she liked the fit.

      Brown eyes met his. And the world stilled. Time and space narrowed to this minute, this space around them. Never breaking his gaze, she slanted her head and dragged a kiss from one corner of his mouth to the other.

      She took control of the kiss like she did everything else.

      And Luca let her take over. Let the scent and taste of her fill every hungry crevice. Let her imprint herself on him.

      Flames of fire raced along his veins when she licked the seam of his lips and probed for entry. Desperate, Luca opened his mouth under hers. The throaty sound of her gasp shivered down his spine. Never had he been waiting like this for pleasure. Never had he been the recipient.

      Suppressing every instinct to take over the reins of the kiss—he’d never waited to be pleasured—he let her seduce him. She obliged, stroking the inside of his mouth with bold flicks, teasing and incinerating. Took his mouth with a carnality that left him shaking to the very marrow.

      Christo, he’d never been so aroused by just a kiss.

      * * *

      The sound of footsteps behind them brought Sophia back to earth with a thud.

      Her mouth stung with the taste of Luca, her body thrumming with unsatisfied desire. The crisp hair on his wrists teased her palms.

      But she felt anything but exultant. She wanted to cry. She wanted to ask him to take her to his bedroom, turn off the lights and—no, not his bedroom. Not the place where he’d probably made love to a horde of lovers, each more stunning and thin and wispier than the next. Maybe they could slip away into that veranda, hide under the moonlight and he could kiss her a little more.

      She could pretend that he’d never broken her heart and that he wanted her just as much as she did him.

      Because when Luca kissed her, Sophia was always carried off to some faraway land. A land where she could be strong enough to be weak, where she could let someone care for her, where she didn’t worry about her family, where she was not mocked for who she was.

      Where a man like Luca didn’t have to be induced into seducing a woman like her...

      She hid her face in his chest. His heartbeat thundered against her cheek. He was warm and male, both exciting and comforting, something she hadn’t realized until this moment she missed.

      Sophia couldn’t dredge up anger for that kiss. Toward him or herself.

      His fingers wandered up and down her hips, questing and caressing. “I’d rather we kissed again, but I keep my word.” Deep and hoarse, his voice pinged over her heated skin. “So tell me, why do you wish to...”

      Suddenly, a hand on her shoulder pulled her from his arms, turned her around.

      “Tina, non!” she heard Luca shout dimly.

      Sophia didn’t see it coming. Someone slapped her. Hard.

      Her head went back, pain radiating up her jaw and through her ear. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked to clear them away. Pulling in a shuddering breath, she looked up.

      Valentina—Luca’s sister and Kairos’s wife, stood before her, her lithe, willowy body shaking with rage. Her entire face was mobile with emotion, turning her into a volatile beauty. “You...you tart!”

      Sophia raised a brow, refusing to show her dismay. “Tart, really?”

      Her composure seemed to only rile the younger woman more. “You’re determined to go through all the men in my family, aren’t you? First Kairos, and now Luca? And to think I felt sorry for you when Leandro broke your engagement.”

      “Basta, Tina!” Luca again. His arm around Sophia’s shoulders, he was a wall of lean strength against her. A dark scowl framed his features, his fingers rubbing against her arm in unconscious comfort.

      Against every rational warning, Sophia felt her body leaning into his.

      “You know the rumors about Kairos and her?” Tina screeched, her eyes filling with tears.

      “If there’s truth to them, confront your husband, Tina.”

      “Fall into her clutches, then. Maybe she will leave my husband alone.” Her black gaze raked over Sophia in a sneer. “Although I do not see the appeal.”

      Valentina left with the same fierceness as she had come in. Like a storm, leaving a minefield of awkward silence behind.

      Sophia untangled herself from Luca’s side and ran her fingers tentatively over her cheek. She thought she might be a little sick but it could be because of how much dessert she’d eaten in her anxiety tonight after the strict diet of the last two weeks.

      Luca pulled her to him; she tried to swat him away.

      He