Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 by Carol Marinelli (desktop ebook reader txt) 📗

to take me inside you. I need that like I need air to breathe,” he said, making her shiver.

With damp eyes, she nodded, needing it too. Needing the physical closeness to seal the schism that had been wrought by the betraying photo and everything that had come after.

Moments later, he had sheathed himself and, both still half-dressed, disheveled and frantic, they came together with a shudder of grand surrender to the passion they couldn’t resist.

He held himself inside her as he brushed her hair from where it was caught on her eyelashes. She turned her mouth into the flexing curve of his biceps, tasting his skin and feeling drunk.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to live without this.” As the words left her, she realized she had spoken them aloud.

She saw the beast then. Caught the flash of feral possessiveness before his mouth was at the corner of hers, soft and tender and sweet again.

“Be with me now,” he commanded.

He began to move. She had no choice but to lose herself to the exaltation that was the result of their lovemaking. The pleasure lifted her even as it seemed to strip her of any outer, protective layers, until she was nothing but pure being. Pure reaction.

Undone and completely vulnerable.

But he took care of her. Such care. Drawing her to the peak with those kisses of reverence and blatant hunger. Watching her with such pride and pleasure in her joyous ascent to climax.

“I want you with me,” she gasped.

“I’m right here.” His voice seemed to speak inside her head, they were so attuned.

And then they were splintering together, writhing and groaning and throbbing in perfectly synchronized culmination.

It was so powerful and magnificent, she couldn’t open her eyes after. She stayed in that state of mutual bliss for ages, convinced they were actually one being.

“That was incredible,” he whispered when they finally disengaged. He discarded the condom and they shifted to a more comfortable position. His fingers sifted through her hair then settled against her scalp, tangled in the strands. “Green-eyed monster slayed. I was a fool to think any man from your past could have any bearing on what we have.”

His words should have been reassuring, but her eyes snapped open as one particular man from her past jumped into her head.

It wouldn’t come out, she assured herself, while clammy fingers of apprehension squeezed her lungs. Was she being naive? Forewarned was forearmed. She ought to tell him.

It was so shameful, though. She hated to even recollect it. Trying to explain it, to dredge through the guilt and remorse and betrayal by her parents... His view of her would completely change. She didn’t want to ruin this newfound closeness between them. Not right now.

His chest rose and fell beneath her ear as he exhaled into sleep. She snuggled closer and let unpleasant memories drift away.

“How does it feel to no longer be the most noteworthy person in the room?” Luca’s twin asked as she appeared beside him.

Queen Sofia of Vallia was the height of elegance in one of their mother’s vintage gowns and a tiara from the crown jewel collection. Her attendance at the foundation’s gala was her first public event and their first appearance together since La Inversione, as the press had dubbed her bloodless coup.

Luca noted his sister’s gaze was on Amy where she swiveled for the relentlessly flashing bulbs around her. Was Sofia criticizing the attention Amy was garnering? A twist of hostility wrenched through him aimed at the one person he’d always vowed to lay down his life to protect.

He sipped his drink, dampening his desire to remind her that she had been elevated to her current position at Amy’s expense. “I never wanted to be. You know that.”

“I was teasing.” Her gaze narrowed at his tone. “You like her.”

Which made him realize he was overreacting, damn it.

“I don’t sleep with people I don’t like,” he muttered.

“Obviously. But you really like her. I was under the impression this was all for my benefit,” she mused, looking back at Amy with consideration.

He took another gulp of his drink, guilty because this wasn’t supposed to benefit him at all. Nothing was. Ever. He hadn’t saddled Sofia with running their country so he could enjoy a sexual romp.

“I’ll invite her to lunch,” Sofia said. “Get to know her better.”

“She’s due back in London as soon as we return from Tokyo.”

Her steady gaze asked, And then what?

He rubbed his thumb against the side of his glass, not ready to admit he was thinking of going there with her. There were so many variables and pitfalls. Sofia wasn’t married or even looking for a consort. The public might be for Queen Sofia, but many were still taking sides against Amy Miller for costing them King Luca.

“She handles it well, doesn’t she? Being in the sun,” Sofia mused.

Amy was winning people over one bright smile at a time, but the attention would never stop. Nor would the judging. It was a sad and relentless fact of his life that he had to remain above reproach. He couldn’t sentence her to those same strictures. Not forever.

Not when her smile was already showing signs of strain.

“Yes, but she’s not wearing sunscreen.” He set his glass on a drinks tray carried by passing waitstaff. “Excuse me while I rescue her.”

Amy gratefully went into Luca’s arms when he invited her to dance.

“How are you holding up?” he asked as he led her into a smooth waltz. Was there nothing this man didn’t do perfectly?

“I underestimated what I was asking of my clients in the past, when I’ve said, ‘Just smile while they take your photo.’ My fault, I guess, for choosing this dress.”

His expression flickered through amusement and ended up as something more contemplative. “There’s a commentary there on how much attention we give to what women wear, but I’d rather not think too hard when I’ve finally got you to myself.”

“I’ll wear a tuxedo next year,” she said, then faltered