New Year Fireworks. Diana Hamilton

by the exchange with his mother. Her past had come back to haunt her with a vengeance. All those wild parties … All those torrid affairs … She couldn’t deny them and was damned if she’d try.

      She wondered whether the duchess had poured the juicy stories into her son’s ears. Marco gave no sign of it when he accompanied her to the guest suite.

      Or when he took her in his arms.

      Or when his mouth came down on hers.

      The heat was instant and so intense Sabrina knew she was in trouble. Her bones had never liquefied like this. Her blood had never bubbled and boiled. She wanted this man more with each breath she took but, somehow, found the strength to ease out of his embrace.

      “Your mother showed me Gianetta’s portrait. She looked so vibrant. So full of life.”

      “She was,” he said simply. “I loved her with all the passion of my youth.”

      Sabrina hugged her waist. She’d tasted passion, too. Many times. But with the brutal clarity of hindsight, she saw that she’d never truly loved. Not the way Marco described.

      She could love this man, though. She knew it, deep in her heart. She was already halfway there.

      She was still dealing with that disconcerting realization when he unbelted the jacket of her pantsuit and undid the buttons, one by one.

      “Ah, Sabrina.”

      He dipped his head and kissed her nose, her mouth, her chin, the swell of her breasts above the lacy chemise.

      “You enchant me,” he murmured in Italian, his voice low and rough. “You enthrall me. You make me feel alive again.”

       Eight

      “He said that?”

      Amusement rippled across Caroline’s heart-shaped face, displayed next to Sabrina’s on the laptop’s screen.

      “You enthrall him?”

      “It didn’t sound as corny in Italian.”

      Sabrina scooted up a little higher and balanced the computer on her bent knees. She’d decided to laze amid the rumpled sheets and duvet while Marco showered. After the night just past, she wasn’t sure she’d have enough strength to roll out of bed and take her turn.

      At least she’d managed to reach over the side of the mattress for his discarded shirt and pull it on before powering up the computer. She could smell the faint tang of his aftershave mingling with the scent of their lovemaking as she queried her partner.

      “Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay in Italy until January fourth, Caroline? That’s the first day I can get out on a new ticket.”

      It was also the last day she could spend with Marco before he headed back to Rome. Sabrina shoved that nasty thought aside. They still had today and the Feast of San Silvestro tomorrow and New Year’s Day and …

      Caroline interrupted her mental count. “Of course I don’t mind. I won’t get home until late on the third myself. Zap me your estimates and I’ll send you mine. We can do the comparative analysis by e-mail and work up the final proposal when we get home.”

      “Will do. I just have one more site to check out. Marco and I are going to hit it today. Then I have to do some serious shopping.”

      “For?”

      “A ball gown.”

      “You’re going to a ball?”

      “Yep. We’re going to celebrate the New Year in style.”

      “Answer me this, my friend. How will you dance on that ankle?”

      Sabrina raised her leg and examined the joint in question.

      “The swelling’s gone. I can actually see the bones again. They’re still covered in ugly green and purple, but what the heck. Here, have a look.”

      She swiveled the laptop around and aimed the built-in camera at her foot.

      “The pain is gone, too,” she said, wiggling her toes. “If I take it easy and use the cane today, I ought to be able to manage at least one waltz tomorrow night. Although …”

      She repositioned the laptop and saw her own face screwed up in a grimace.

      “I was pretty ambivalent about attending the big bash after meeting Her Excellency yesterday.”

      “What changed your mind?”

      The grimace morphed into a catlike grin. “Marco. The man can be pretty convincing when he wants to.”

      Her partner smiled but still had doubts. “From what you told me about his mother, I have to say she sounds rather formidable.”

      “She is.”

      Caroline bit her lip. She and Devon knew all too well the scars Sabrina had acquired over the years in her fierce battles with her father.

      “You’ve spent a good part of your life fighting to hold your own against a domineering parent. Are you sure you want to enter into battle with another?”

      “I’m not engaging in a protracted battle. I’m just attending a party with my studly doc-slash-duke, after which we’ll go our separate ways.”

      She shrugged aside the disconcerting twinge that caused and cocked her head.

      “The shower just cut off in the bathroom. Gotta go, Caro. I need to confirm the ticket change, get dressed and hit the road. I’ll e-mail a spreadsheet with the final cost estimates for the sites here in Italy as soon as I nail down the last one.”

      “Okay. I’ll do the same for the sites in Spain.”

      “Ciao for now, girl.”

      She ended the videoconference and sent her fingers flying over the keyboard. She’d have to pay a hundred and eighty dollar differential in airfare plus another hundred in penalties for changing her ticket. Add in the cost of a gown and the necessary accessories, and this was turning out to be an expensive stopover.

      Since these weren’t business-related expenses, Sabrina intended to cover them from her personal account. Good thing she’d built up a healthy savings before walking away from the board of the Russo Foundation.

      Marco emerged from the bathroom just as she clicked the confirm button to purchase the new ticket. “It’s done. I’ve changed my … Yowza!”

      She froze with her fingers still curved over the keyboard, speechless at the sight of six foot one of nearly naked male.

      He had a towel draped around his hips. Above the fluffy cotton his chest hair gleamed dark and damp. Below, his muscular thighs narrowed down to strong calves and disgustingly healthy ankles. With his bronzed skin and short, curling hair, he could leave a string of broken hearts from Naples to Nashville to Nepal.

      “You should give a girl some warning before you stroll into a room looking like that! I almost swallowed my tongue.”

      “Tongue swallowing could be symptomatic of a serious medical condition,” he said solemnly. “You’d better let me have a look.”

      He had to drop the towel in order to make the necessary examination. For some reason, he also had to peel off Sabrina’s borrowed shirt.

      The laptop got shoved onto the bedside table. The duvet slithered over the side of the mattress. Marco curled his hands under her thighs and tugged her down until she was stretched out under him.

      “Open your mouth and say ah.”

      “Now that,” Sabrina gasped when they came up for air some time later, “was what I call a thorough examination. I might have to hire you as my personal physician.”

      Marco rolled onto his side and propped his head in his hand. Christ, she was beautiful. With her tangle