The Venetian's Midnight Mistress. Кэрол Мортимер

him. Wildly. Frantically. Heatedly.

      The realisation shocked her at the same time as she pressed her body longingly against his, her arms moving up about the broadness of his shoulders as her lips parted to deepen the kiss.

      Nothing else mattered other than the intensity of the desire, the arousal, that surged through her body. The need to feel. To live only for this moment and to hell with tomorrow.

      She moaned low in her throat as his hand moved from her waist to her breast, lingering there, cupping her, those long, warm fingers a caress on the bareness of her skin above the gown before they dipped lower, seeking and finding the hardened nub, and that single touch across the sensitised tip sent rivulets of pleasure throbbing between her thighs.

      Her pirate’s hands moved to cup her bottom and pull her against his thighs, against the rigid hardness there that told her of his own arousal. At the same time his tongue moved erotically across her bottom lip before surging beyond, capturing, claiming, as he tasted every part of her.

      Niccolo wanted this woman now.

      Right now!

      His earlier aversion to couples disappearing off into the trees was totally forgotten as he held the woman of his dreams in his arms and tasted and caressed her with the same burning need, only the two of them existing as their kisses deepened hungrily.

      Then a teasing laugh from somewhere amongst the shelter of the trees permeated the desire that had clouded his brain, and he drew abruptly back to rest his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged.

      ‘I think perhaps we should go somewhere a little more—private. Do you agree?’ he murmured ruefully.

      She hesitated only fractionally before giving an affirmative nod of her head.

      Niccolo moved back slightly, his hand sliding caressingly down her arm before he laced his fingers with her much smaller ones, only lingering long enough to once more kiss her hungrily on the lips before he turned to guide her towards the relative privacy of his sister’s home.

      Dani felt slightly dazed by the intensity of her arousal, was beyond thought, beyond anything but being the focus of this man’s single-minded desire.

      She wanted to be naked with him, wanted to touch and caress the broadness of his muscled back, ached to feel all that nakedness against her own. There would be plenty of time tomorrow, all her tomorrows, to be the much more cautious and emotionally bruised Dani Bell.

      On paper she was a twenty-four-year-old divorcee. But the reality was different—so totally different.

      Her disaster of a marriage to Philip had made her wary of men and physical relationships. As Eleni had once pointed out so succinctly, there had been no one in her life since the end of her marriage to Philip two and a half years ago.

      The failure of that marriage had made her doubt her own attractiveness to men. But there was no doubting that her pirate found her attractive, that he wanted her, and part of her so ached to feel wanted, to feel desired, if not loved.

      Nevertheless, she kept a wary eye out for Eleni as she and her pirate strolled back towards the house; she would never hear the end of it if her friend should spot Dani disappearing with one of her D’Alessandro cousins!

      ‘I do not intend to do anything you do not want me to do,’ Niccolo promised as he sensed the onset of doubt in the woman who walked so gracefully and silently beside him. At least he hoped he would have the control not to take things any further than this woman wanted them to go.

      The reality was he wanted her so badly that his normally rigid control was in jeopardy of deserting him. Only the earlier interruption of that laugh had stopped him from enticing her into the trees with him and making love to her right then and there.

      This immediacy was totally out of character for Niccolo.

      There had been many women in his life over the last twenty years, and some of them had become a mistress for several months, but with none of them had he felt this driving need to know, to touch, to make love until they were both weak and satiated. And then start all over again.

      Eleni’s conservatory was in darkness as Niccolo opened the door and allowed the woman at his side to enter first, before closing and locking the door firmly behind them, shutting out the noise of the other party-goers and all but the muted strains of the small orchestra.

      Dani’s hand moved to cover his as he would have switched on one of the lamps. ‘It’s more—in keeping with the evening this way,’ she whispered, inwardly knowing that if he switched on a light the magic of this encounter would be broken and she would run away—probably screaming.

      Philip’s uncontrollable and unwarranted jealousy had made Dani not just wary, but actually fearful of physical relationships, and she was sure that the only thing that was giving her courage now was the mask each of them was wearing and the anonymity the darkness afforded.

      In fact, the veritable forest of exotic plants and trees that Eleni nurtured in her conservatory effected such a feeling of privacy, of heightened expectancy, that it seemed to Dani as if the two of them were alone on some lush desert island. Which was very fitting, considering he was dressed as a pirate!

      ‘You’ve been here before?’ he asked, as Dani confidently made her way to where the sofa and chairs were situated.

      ‘Once or twice,’ she replied, not wanting to give away even that much of herself.

      Behaving with uncharacteristic recklessness was one thing, having this man discover her identity as Eleni’s best friend was something else entirely!

      She turned to face him, stepping closer to let her hands slide slowly up his silk-covered chest. ‘We aren’t supposed to be asking personal questions, remember?’

      ‘I remember,’ he murmured, as his arms moved about her waist to draw her close against him and his head lowered so that his lips could claim hers.

      Heaven.

      There was absolutely no other way for Dani to describe the pleasure that surged through her as the kiss deepened, as her lips parted to the silky caress of his tongue before it slowly entered her mouth.

      Oh, God!

      Dani’s legs went weak at this slow, sensuous plundering, her arms tightening on his shoulders as she clung. He moulded her against him from breast to thigh, their legs entwined.

      It had been too long, she acknowledged achingly. Far too long. And it had never been like this before. Ever.

      Dani’s head swam, her body feeling completely, totally alive as the man she knew only as Morgan continued to kiss her. His hands moved restlessly across her back before cupping her bottom and pulling her even tighter against him, allowing her once again to feel the heat of his arousal as her own thighs melted into liquid fire.

      That heat intensified, became almost unbearable, as one of his hands caressed the bare tops of her breasts, igniting her so that she longed to have him caress her more fully, and her nipples were hard and aching for his touch as she pressed closer in silent appeal.

      But the magic stopped, abruptly ceased, the moment she felt his hand move up to the ties at the back of her mask.

      ‘No!’ She broke the kiss to protest, breathing hard as she backed away slightly, cheeks burning, eyes feverish. ‘No,’ she repeated more calmly, as she sensed him looking at her questioningly. ‘It’s more—exciting this way, don’t you think?’

      More exciting? Niccolo mused wryly. If things became any more exciting the two of them were going to go up in flames! But perhaps she was right—perhaps it was the fact that they were both masked, their identities secret, that made this whole experience so uniquely erotic.

      She moved her body enticingly against his, the elusive perfume of her skin, the way her breasts swelled above her low-cut gown, once again holding him in thrall.

      Niccolo drew in a sharp breath as his body pulsed, throbbed in answer to all that she was offering.