A Night In His Arms - Annie West Mills & Boon By Request

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him?’

      ‘No. I wanted to be a teacher. Working with children was always my dream. But that’s not possible now.’ She kept her voice brisk, refusing to wallow in self-pity.

      ‘What will you do?’ He sounded grave, as if her answer mattered.

      Lucy looked at the sunset glowing amber and peach, rimmed with gold, then across to the mainland, where the dying sun gilded the coastline into something fantastic. It was the most exquisite view. She stored the memory against the empty days ahead, when life would be all struggle.

      ‘I took a bookkeeping course. I thought there’d be more chance of getting a job working with figures than with people, given my record.’ Except she doubted she’d be left alone long enough to find a job. This was a temporary respite. Once she left, the press would hound her. Who would employ her?

      Abruptly she put her glass down and stood. ‘Isn’t it time we headed back?’ She needed to be alone, to sort out the problems she’d avoided while she was here. She’d been living in a fantasy world. Soon she’d face reality.

      Lucy spun away. But the deck was slick where she’d dripped seawater. Her foot shot out beneath her. She flailed but was falling when Domenico grabbed her and hauled her to him.

      She told herself it was the shock of almost falling that made adrenalin surge and her heart thump. It had nothing to do with the look in Domenico’s stormy eyes or the feel of his hot, damp body against hers.

      ‘You can let me go.’ Her breasts rose and fell with her choppy breathing.

      Lucy put her hands on his arms to push herself away. Instead her fingers curled around the tensile strength of his biceps as if protesting the need to move.

      ‘What if I don’t want to let you go?’ His voice was so deep its vibration rumbled through her.

      Bent back over his arm, she watched his face come closer. His gaze moved to her mouth and her heart gave a mighty leap as she read his intent.

      ‘No!’ Her voice was breathless. ‘I don’t want this!’

      He shook his head. ‘I thought we’d agreed, Lucy. No more lies.’ For a moment longer he watched her, waiting for the protest they both knew she wouldn’t make.

      Then slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      DOMENICO’S LIPS BRUSHED hers in a light, barely there caress that made her mouth tingle and her blood surge. Twice, three times, he rubbed his mouth across hers, sending every sense into overdrive, till finally impatience overwhelmed caution and she clamped her hands to his wet hair and kissed him back.

      There! No more teasing, just the heat of his mouth on hers. Her fingers slid around his skull, cradling him. The reality of him, the unyielding strength of bone and bunched muscle, of surprisingly soft lips making her blood sing, was everything she’d imagined and more.

      His tongue slipped along the seam of her lips and it was the most natural thing in the world to open for him. For him to delve into her mouth and swirl delight through her veins. For her to respond with an honesty that eclipsed any vague thought of restraint.

      She felt as if she’d waited a lifetime for this.

      It didn’t matter that she was a novice and he a master at this art. Eagerness made up for inexperience as she met his need with her own. Their tongues tangled, slid, stroked and goose bumps broke out across her flesh.

      Domenico sucked her tongue into his mouth and her pulse catapulted. He nipped her bottom lip and Lucy sighed as pleasure engulfed her.

      She leaned back, supported only by his embrace but she had no fear of falling. His arms were like steel ropes, lashing her close. His chest slid against hers and she gasped as electricity sparked and fired through her body, to her nipples, her stomach, the apex of her thighs. Behind the shocking heat came a melting languor that liquefied her bones and stole her will.

      She tilted her head, accommodating him as desire escalated and their kisses grew urgent, hungry. She was burning up and so was he, his flesh on fire beneath her hands.

      Yes! This was what she wanted from him, had always wanted. Even when she’d spat and snarled, she’d fought this chemistry between them.

      Why had she tried to fight it? It was delicious, addictive.

      Domenico tasted of the sea and dark, wickedly rich chocolate—a seductive mix. She shivered in sensual overload as he devoured her with a thoroughness that matched every long-suppressed need.

      Had he yearned for this too? Had he lain awake, imagining this moment?

      The slide of their bodies was pure magic. The thin fabric of her swimsuit was negligible against the heated promise of his body. Lucy pressed closer, revelling in his powerful musculature, the heady scent of his skin and a deeper, musky note of arousal.

      He kissed her throat and she arched back, feeling her feminine power even as she knew herself caught in a web of desire. She was utterly open to his caresses, unprotected against his strength. Yet Lucy felt no doubt or fear. Each kiss he pressed to her skin was homage to the spell woven between them.

      Rousing herself from drugged delight, Lucy pulled herself higher, rubbing her cheek against his. The friction of his sandpapery jaw sent another shaft of lightning straight to her groin and she shivered in delicious arousal.

      She nipped his ear lobe and heard him growl, low in his throat. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. She smiled and did it again, eager at the thought of Domenico reacting to her at the most primal level.

      Large hands wrapped around her waist and he lifted her high to sit on something. Domenico pushed her thighs apart and stepped between them, lodging himself at her core.

      ‘Domenico.’ Her voice was a rasp of pleasure as the fire spread, overriding a belated voice of warning.

      She wanted him. Had done for so long. Even in the days when she’d hated him, she’d secretly yearned for this delight. This affirmation. She’d given up trying to puzzle the attraction that smouldered between them. It was enough to let glorious pleasure sweep her away.

      Lucy felt the power of his erection between her legs and against her belly and her breath faltered. They felt so right together. It was all she could do not to rock against him, lost in the need for sensual satisfaction.

      With an effort of willpower that almost undid her, she opened her eyes and met the mercurial glitter of his. Heat and shimmering silver fire engulfed her.

      His hand palmed her breast and she gasped, overloaded with exquisite sensation. It was too much to bear.

      She grabbed his neck and pulled him to her, wanting his lips on hers. Needing the dark mystery of their kisses. Needing him.

      Long fingers thrust through her hair, tipping her head back as he tasted her in a long, luxurious kiss that curled her toes. His other hand teased her nipple. Darts of heat arced from the spot, making her move restlessly.

      Immediately Domenico slid his hand from her scalp, down her spine, to splay over her bottom and drag her up tight against him. He kissed her hard, his tongue delving as his blatantly aroused body surged against hers.

      The world tumbled and re-formed. Her blood sizzled like molten metal swirling in a crucible of pure need. Her lips moved against his and her dazed brain almost stopped functioning.

      Domenico eased away a fraction as he slipped his hand over her bare thigh to brush the Lycra at the juncture of her thighs. A bolt of lightning slashed through her, jolting every nerve end, concentrating every sense on that point of contact. She grabbed his shoulders.

      Wide-eyed she looked up. His face was pared to austere lines that spoke of raw hunger. Gone was his sophistication, stripped to something more elemental.

      More dangerous. The words

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