The Ultimate Risk Page 9

  Gina’s hair smelled of lemons. He could not resist the temptation to brush his mouth over her temple, smiling when she gave a jolt but did not try to pull away from him. Gently he trailed his lips down her cheek and over the faint ridge of her scar. She immediately tensed.

  ‘Was your nightmare about the car crash?’ he murmured.

  Gina drew back a little and gave him a puzzled look. ‘What car crash?’

  ‘I assumed you were cut by glass from a shattered windscreen.’ It was the only explanation he had been able to think of. ‘How were you injured, then, cara?’ He frowned, feeling the tension that gripped her body. Something came into his mind—an image of Gina’s terrified face when she had witnessed the incident in the restaurant earlier that night. When Finn O’Connell had lashed out at his wife Gina had looked as shaken as Miranda O’Connell.

  A horrific understanding slowly dawned on him. ‘Did someone hurt you?’ he demanded roughly, feeling sick inside at the possibility. ‘Did somebody do this to you, cara?’

  Gina bit her lip when Lanzo ran his finger lightly down her scar. The compassion evident in his eyes was too much when her nightmare about Simon’s brutality was still so real in her head. She felt desperately vulnerable, and her primary instinct was to retreat mentally and physically from Lanzo.

  He must have read her mind, for he slid his hand from her scar to her nape, massaging her tight muscles with a gentle, repetitive motion. ‘I would never harm you in any way, cara,’ he said deeply. ‘You must know that.’

  She recalled the year she had dated Simon before their marriage, when she’d had no inkling that he had a drink problem and seen no sign of his violent temper. Her wedding night had been memorable for all the wrong reasons, she thought ruefully. Simon had seemed fine after a couple of glasses of champagne at the reception, but on the plane he had ordered spirits, and numerous shots of neat whisky had revealed a side to his personality that had come as an unwelcome shock.

  How could you ever know a person’s true nature? Gina wondered. And yet she felt safe with Lanzo. She trusted him. And as that realisation sank in relief seeped through her. She had feared she would never feel confident enough to trust anyone again, but Lanzo was different from Simon—so different that it was hard to believe they were of the same species.

  Lanzo watched the play of emotions on Gina’s face, the faint tremor of her mouth before she quickly compressed her lips, and felt a hard knot of anger form in his gut at the idea of some guy hurting her.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked quietly, smoothing her hair back from her face and catching her fingers in his when she instinctively tried to cover the thin, slightly raised ridge that he had exposed.

  She was under no obligation to tell him anything—so why did she feel a strong urge to share the memories that still had the power to evoke nightmares? He was so tall that she had to tilt her head to look at his face, and as she studied his hard jaw a wry smile tugged her lips. Strength and undeniable power meshed with the gentle expression in his eyes were a potent combination. She felt safe with Lanzo; it was as simple as that.

  But it was still hard to admit the truth. Gina took a shaky breath. ‘My husband … did this,’ she said huskily. ‘He was in one of his rages and he hit me.’

  For a few stark seconds Lanzo went rigid with shock. ‘You’re married?’ he demanded harshly.

  ‘Not any more.’ She managed a ghost of a smile that did not reach her eyes. ‘My divorce was finalised just before I moved back to Poole, but I had left Simon a year before that. The night he did this—’ she touched her scar ‘—was the final straw. I knew I had to get away from him before anything worse happened.’

  ‘Dio mio,’ Lanzo growled. ‘How on earth did you end up married to such a monster in the first place?’

  Gina bit her lip. It was a question that the few close friends who knew what had happed during her marriage had asked her. She felt a fool that she had been duped by Simon, and it was hard for her to talk about her marriage, but she acknowledged that she was never going to be able to move forward with her life until she had come to terms with her past.

  ‘Simon was an investment banker. We met at a corporate dinner in the City,’ she explained wearily. ‘He was good-looking, charming, and successful—I guess he ticked all the right boxes, and we quickly became close. We were engaged six months after we met, and married six months after that. Our wedding night was the first time I had ever seen him drunk, but the next morning he was so apologetic that I put it down to the stress of the wedding.’

  She sighed. ‘Making excuses for Simon’s drinking and his black moods became a regular occurrence, but I wanted our marriage to work and so I kept on ignoring the warning signs of his increasing reliance on alcohol.’

  ‘I don’t understand how you could have ignored it if he was violent towards you,’ Lanzo said harshly. It struck him that Gina must have been madly in love with her husband to put up with his behaviour, and he was unprepared for the sharp stab of jealousy in his gut that the thought evoked.

  Gina could see the shock in Lanzo’s eyes and she hung her head, moving away from him to stare out of the window at the dark beach. ‘I was ashamed,’ she admitted in a low tone. ‘I thought that I must somehow be to blame for Simon’s drinking and his tempers. And I didn’t know who to talk to. We were part of a large social group, but most of the people we met at dinner parties were Simon’s business associates and I couldn’t possibly have confided to any of them or their sophisticated wives that we were not the glamorous have-it-all couple we appeared to be.’

  She twisted her fingers together, still not able to look at Lanzo. ‘I know I was a fool, but I was clinging to my dream of having a family. We had agreed to try for a child as soon as we were married, and I hoped that a baby would magically make Simon stop drinking. Instead, I failed to fall pregnant, Simon lost his job in the banking crisis that hit the City, and things went rapidly from bad to awful because he spent all day at home drowning his sorrows.’

  ‘Yet you still stayed with him?’

  ‘I wanted to help him. I felt guilty that I didn’t love the man he had turned into, but I was still his wife, and I felt it was my duty to try and support him. The trouble was Simon didn’t want to be helped. During one of our many rows about his drinking I tried to take his bottle of whisky, and he reacted like a madman.’ She swallowed, the memories vivid in her mind. ‘He struck me, and as I fell I dropped the bottle I was holding. A piece of broken glass sliced through my face, and by unlucky chance through an artery in my neck. There was a lot of blood and confusion.

  I needed numerous stitches, and was left with this lasting reminder of my marriage,’ she said wryly, lifting her hand to trace the familiar path of her scar.’

  ‘No wonder you looked so ashen when Finn O’Connell turned on his wife tonight,’ Lanzo said harshly, feeling a fierce need to search out Gina’s ex and connect his fist with the other man’s face.

  He noticed the glimmer of tears in her eyes and his gut clenched. Giving in to his own violent urges where her ex-husband was concerned would not help her, he acknowledged grimly. He sensed that it had taken enormous bravery for her to tell him about her marriage, and now she needed his support and strength. Suppressing his inner rage against her ex, he walked over to her and drew her into his arms.

  ‘You were not to blame for your husband’s drink problem any more than Miranda is responsible for O’Connell’s behaviour,’ he assured her firmly.

  He bent his head and brushed his lips the length of her scar, the caress as soft as thistledown, causing a curious little pain in Gina’s heart. He’s simply being kind, she told herself sternly. Don’t read more into it than that. She knew she should pull away from him, assure him that she had recovered from the nightmare and would be able to sleep now. Except that was a lie; she doubted she could fall asleep—not because of the bad memories of Simon, which were fading as the nightmare receded, but because of other memories, of Lanzo drawing her down onto the so
ft grass in that wooded glade many years ago, and making love to her with exquisite gentleness.

  She swallowed when he lifted his head and stared down at her. Desire was still evident in his green gaze, but it was tempered with compassion and understanding, an unspoken vow that she was safe with him.

  She sighed and felt the tension drain out of her, so that she relaxed in his arms. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Lanzo would never hurt her as Simon had done, or the memory of his gentle caresses the first time he had made love to her all those years ago when she had been a girl on the brink of womanhood. Or perhaps it was simply that she could not deny her need for him any longer—a need that was mirrored in his hypnotic green eyes. All she knew was that when he slowly lowered his head she ached for him to kiss her, and instead of pulling away from him she parted her lips in readiness, her heart thudding with excitement rather than fear as he brushed his mouth lightly over hers.

  Lanzo felt the tremor that ran through her, and was shocked to realise that it was not only Gina who was shaking. This moment had been building since he had first caught sight of her in Poole. He had known immediately that he wanted her, and a little later, when he had realised her identity—that she was his Gina, who had been his lover ten years before—his desire for her had intensified. He had not known then of the trauma she had suffered at the hands of her ex-husband, and now his desire was mingled with a need to show her that he would only ever treat her with the greatest care and respect.

  He did not want to rush her. He wanted to savour every second, every soft sigh that whispered from Gina’s lips as he drew her closer and deepened the kiss so that it became a sensual tasting that was both evocative and erotic.

  Gina was aware of Lanzo’s powerful arousal jutting against her pelvis, and she felt the drenching flood of desire between her legs. By choice she hadn’t had a physical relationship with a man since her marriage had ended, but she was sure now that she wanted Lanzo to make love to her and obliterate the dark memories of Simon that still haunted her.

  She knew she was risking her heart. Lanzo had ended their affair ten years ago, and from all that she had read about him since he still had an aversion to commitment. But nothing altered the fact that she wanted him. She yearned to feel his hands sliding over her naked body, the brush of his hair-roughened thighs pressing against her softer flesh. Dear heaven, the sensual tug of his mouth on her breast.

  It was impossible to express her need in words, so she captured his face between her palms and drew his mouth down to hers, to kiss him with an unrestrained hunger that made him groan deep in his throat.

  Passion exploded between them: wild, almost pagan in its intensity, and leaving no room for doubt. Without taking his lips from hers, Lanzo swept Gina up and carried her along the terrace to where the door to his bedroom stood ajar. He stepped inside and paused, looking down at her for long minutes, searching for an answer to his unspoken question before he gently lowered her onto the bed.

  ‘You are so beautiful, tesoro,’ he said thickly, his accent very pronounced. ‘I swear I would never do anything to harm you.’

  He dropped down next to her and threaded his fingers through her hair, which was spread like a curtain of chestnut-coloured silk around her shoulders. Tiny buttons secured the front of her chemise, and Gina snatched a breath when he deftly unfastened them and then slowly drew the thin straps down her arms until he had bared her breasts.

  The air felt cool on her heated skin. She felt a dragging sensation low in her stomach when he stilled and allowed his gaze to roam over the creamy mounds of firm flesh that he had exposed, dark colour winging along his cheekbones, his eyes glittering with feral desire.

  He leaned forward and slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with a slow deliberation that could not disguise his barely leashed hunger. Only when her lips were softly swollen did he move his head lower, trailing a moist path down to her collarbone and then over the slopes of her breasts. Her nipples tautened in anticipation of his caress, her heart thudding, and she gave a little moan when he flicked his tongue delicately across one rosy crest and then its twin, back and forth, heightening her pleasure to fever-pitch until she curled her fingers in his hair and held him to her breast, sighing her approval when he sucked hard, sending star-bursts of sensation shooting down to her pelvis.

  This was where she wanted to be, Gina thought dreamily, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Lanzo stripped off his shirt. His chest gleamed like polished bronze in the lamplight, his powerful abdominal muscles clearly defined beneath the whorls of dark hair that arrowed down over his flat stomach. He stood to remove his trousers, and she felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation when his boxers hit the floor and he stood before her, gloriously and unashamedly aroused.

  He must have misinterpreted her expression, for he said fiercely, ‘You want me, cara. Your body reveals what you might wish to deny—see …?’ he murmured, as he cupped her breasts in his palms and rolled her nipples between his fingers until she gasped and arched her hips in frantic invitation.

  ‘I don’t deny it,’ she choked with innate honesty, her eyes widening when he skimmed his lips over her stomach and gently pushed her thighs apart. ‘Lanzo …’ Shock drove words of protest from her mind as he stroked his tongue lightly up and down the opening of her vagina, the sensation so exquisite that she instinctively spread her legs a little wider and groaned when he discovered the tight nub of her clitoris.

  Pleasure was building inside her, coiling, tightening, until she was trembling and desperate for his ultimate possession.

  ‘I know, cara,’ he growled, his voice rough with need as he moved over her, his body tense and his erection rock-hard. With one hand he tugged the chemise down over her hips and settled himself between her thighs, supporting his weight on his forearms. Gina slid her arms around his back and urged him down onto her, desperate to feel him deep inside her, but suddenly he stilled and muttered an imprecation.

  ‘What’s wrong …?’ she whispered shakily.

  Lanzo cursed again and shook his head. ‘I don’t have anything with me,’ he gritted, struggling to control his body’s urgent clamour to sink his throbbing shaft into her. ‘Condoms,’ he elucidated when she stared at him uncomprehendingly. ‘I hadn’t planned on this happening—at least not tonight,’ he added wryly, ‘and I didn’t buy any contraception.’ He gave an agonised groan, ‘I’m sorry, cara, but even in the heat of passion I’m sure that neither of us is prepared to risk an accidental pregnancy.’

  A shudder of longing ripped through Gina. Still haunted by memories of how Simon had treated her, it had taken a great deal of courage for her to get this far. But Lanzo’s gentleness had given her the confidence to lower her barriers, and she was desperate to make love with him and prove to herself that she was no longer affected by her marriage. Driven by instinct, she gripped his shoulders to prevent him from rolling away from her.

  ‘There’s no risk,’ she muttered.

  Lanzo frowned, his heart kicking against his ribs as fierce excitement quickly mounted. ‘You mean you are protected?’ he demanded, assuming that she meant she was on the pill. Never before had he broken his golden rule and had sex without taking responsibility for contraception, but the pill was regarded as the most reliable method available, his brain argued, and he could not bear another night of aching, agonising frustration. It was not only about sex, he realised. He wanted to obliterate Gina’s memories of her violent ex-husband, and remind her that the passion they had once shared had not faded.

  ‘Gina …?’ he said urgently, his body shaking with his desire to ensure her pleasure. He sensed that it had been a long time since she had enjoyed making love in its true sense—a sensual experience shared by two people totally in tune with each other’s needs.

  Gina wondered if she should reassure Lanzo that the chances of her falling pregnant were non-existent. Not only was her endometriosis worse, but her period had only just finished, and she knew from all the months she had obse
ssively studied her ovulation chart, when she and Simon had been trying for a baby, that her one minuscule chance of conceiving was around the middle of her cycle.

  But she did not want to discuss her infertility; she didn’t want to waste time talking when her body was trembling with an intense yearning to take him inside her. The feel of his solid erection jabbing into her belly drove every consideration from her mind but her need to assuage the agonising, aching longing for him to possess her.

  She touched the hard line of his jaw and traced her finger lightly over his mouth. ‘I want you to make love to me, Lanzo,’ she whispered, and heard his feral groan as he crushed her mouth beneath his in a possessive kiss. She felt his hand slip between her thighs and squirmed at the intimate probing of his finger as he parted her and stroked her until she was on the brink. ‘Please …’

  It was a cry from the heart, and he gave a rough laugh as he positioned himself above her.

  ‘I intend to please you, cara,’ he assured her. He could feel that he was going to come at any second, but with a massive effort of will he controlled himself and gently eased forward, entering her carefully and oh, so slowly, pausing while her muscles stretched to accommodate him. He slid his hands beneath her and cupped her bottom, angling her so that it was easier for her to absorb his length, smiling down at her when she stared at him with stunned eyes. ‘Good?’ he queried softly.

  Good did not come anywhere near it. There were no words to describe the intensity of pleasure that was beginning to build deep inside her as Lanzo withdrew a little and then drove into her, setting a rhythm that she eagerly matched. She clung to his shoulders, her lashes drifting down as she was swept away to a place where sensation ruled. Little spasms rippled across her belly as he increased his pace. She sensed his urgency and gasped his name, wanting the journey never to end. But the coiling inside her was growing ever tighter, and suddenly, cataclysmically, it snapped, and her cries of pleasure were muffled by his lips as he thrust his tongue into her mouth in erotic mimicry of the powerful thrusts of his body.