The Italian's Passionate Revenge

garment with which she’d thought to assert her indifference. It vanished easily and his hand was cupping her breast while his lips made a light, burning trail down her neck.

When she reached out for his clothes he helped her, tossing them aside with relief, then quickly removing the rest of hers.

The sight of his nakedness made her realise how much she’d dwelt on the thought in the months since their first meeting. He was different from her expectations-leaner, more lithe, yet still with an air of power that had nothing to do with mere muscles. His arousal was clear now, a stark, unmistakable message, to which her own arousal was the answer.

Vincente drew her against him so that they stood, holding each other gently, as though waiting for something. His face was very close to hers.

‘Trust me,’ he murmured again and began to lead her to the bed, drawing her down beside him.

Elise reached for him blindly and felt him, hard and purposeful as a weapon in her hand. But he bided his time, kissing her breasts first and then beginning to kiss her everywhere. Now there was nothing she could do but trust him, yielding herself to the fire in her flesh that mounted, consuming her.

He’d promised her tender care and he was keeping his word. The touch of his lips and fingers was gentle, with nothing to alarm her. But now she was such a contrary creature that, far from appreciating his restraint, she felt as if he were torturing her. She wanted more than this-much more-and he was making her wait.

She tried to urge him on, using her hands to incite him. Everything in her screamed, Please-but nothing would prevail on her to yield that far. Instead she sent the message with every caress, every flickering touch-a silent demand for pleasure and fulfilment.

Stroking his back, she could just make out his spine, the flexing of his muscles, then the swell of his behind, which she enclosed and drew towards her. Understanding, he reached out to part her legs, but she was ahead of him, welcoming him between them. There was one last moment when she seemed to be poised on the edge of a precipice, waiting to know if she would fly or fall.

She felt him seeking entry-slowly, with devastating control, easing himself in, forward, giving her the time she needed. Little by little he became part of her, gliding in easily because she was moist with desire, ready for him, gladly accepting each new revelation. And suddenly she was soaring into the clear air.

Now he was deep inside her, moving slowly, withdrawing just enough to return, then repeating the movement with renewed power.

The ultimate moment was a revelation, telling her that her body had been made for this. The violence of her pleasure was almost scary, and scarier still was the need to yield to it-fierce, overwhelming. Years of control and caution fell away from her, leaving her free to become the woman she had always been at heart.

Elise gripped him hard, wanting to draw him more deeply into her, to take control of him until he became nothing but an instrument for her delight. When a man was this good, a woman had the right to his services, didn’t she? The right to take and demand until she was satisfied. And she would never, ever be satisfied because the craving to feel him inside her, moving fiercely yet subtly, creating pleasure where pleasure had never existed before, was an endless need.

The cry that broke from her as she reached the pinnacle was part triumph, part despair that the end was in sight. She arched upward, her arms about his neck, while they thrust against each other until the moment when they both had to recognise that it was over.

He laid her gently back on the bed, his eyes fixed on her face. His breathing was coming in harsh gasps and his eyes were a little wild. Somehow she sensed astonishment-not in his expression but in his whole body. Whatever he’d expected to find in her bed, he’d found something else.

She let out a yell that was half a laugh, closing her eyes again, then giving a long sigh of contentment. Suddenly the whole world was wonderful. When she opened her eyes again he was leaning on one elbow, regarding her with wry interest.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she cried, throwing back her head and arching upwards in delight. ‘I don’t know and it’s wonderful.’

‘As long as it’s wonderful, that’s all right,’ he said.

‘Do you know who I am?’

Vincente shook his head. ‘No, I no longer have any idea.’

‘No longer,’ she echoed, laughing. ‘That means you once thought you did, but you were wrong, d’you hear?’

‘Yes, I was wrong,’ he said quietly. ‘I was wrong.’

It was in the early hours when Vincente slipped out into the silent street, got into his car and drove away in the direction of the River Tiber. At last he stopped and went to lean over the side, looking out over the water to where the lights of the Vatican City gleamed against the dark, like the promise of blessing in a wicked world.

Regarding the beautiful scene, his heart full of recent joys, he yet found a darkness inside him that he couldn’t shake off. His flesh still seemed to burn with the intensity of his desire and hers, and the fulfilment she had offered that had been like no other in his life, but his mind was haunted and troubled.

‘Buon giorno, signore.’

Lost in his thoughts, Vincente hadn’t heard anyone approach. Now he turned sharply and saw a mean-looking, undersized man with sharp, glinting eyes.

‘Do I know you?’ he demanded.

The man gave a silent laugh. ‘Probably not. So many people who hire me choose not to know me later. I respect that, but I do like to check that my work was satisfactory.’

‘Oh, yes. You,’ Vincente said distastefully. ‘Leo Razzini.’

‘The same.’

‘I did hire you, but it was some time ago.’

‘It was a long job and a hard one, but I worked well for you, didn’t I? I found the lady and the fat idiot she was married to, and I helped lure him to Rome so that you could offer him a job. It should have been easy for you after that. Pity he had to go and die. Still, you managed to-shall we say?-“persuade” her here in the end.’

‘I advise you to shut up and leave,’ Vincente said in a hard voice.

‘Of course you despise me now. With the job done and the lady in your power, you can afford to despise me. But my work was satisfactory. At least admit that.’

‘If this is an attempt at blackmail I warn you to go no further,’ Vincente raged softly. ‘I have enough friends in the police to have you locked up for years before you could get anywhere near her.’

‘Signore, please!’ Razzini sounded genuinely hurt. ‘Blackmail is something I never indulge in. It wouldn’t be safe. Some of my customers have made much worse threats than yours, and I know they mean them.’

‘Then what the devil do you want?’

‘A kind word, perhaps. I live by recommendations. After all, I can hardly advertise my line of work, can I? So if you hear of anyone needing my services, you might put in a word for me. Tell them how many others you put on the job before me, and that I was the one who cracked it. That’s all I ask, apart from the very generous fee you paid me. I hope you feel I provided value for money.’

‘I have no complaints with your service,’ Vincente said harshly.

‘It was the right lady that I tracked down for you?’

‘Yes,’ Vincente snapped.

‘I’m glad of that, because it wasn’t easy. You couldn’t give me much information to go on, but I did my best, and it all fell into place in the end. Don’t the English have a saying-all’s well that ends well?’

Vincente clenched his hands and thought of murder.

‘Shut up!’ he snapped. ‘Shut up! And if you know what’s good for you, clear out and never let me see you again.’

It was disconcerting that her first thought on waking was of Vincente, as though he were still there with her in the bed, still possessing her body. But then she opened her eyes and found that it was day, and the early sun was streaming in, and she was alone.

Elise had a dreamy memory of him kissing her forehead before he left, which seemed strangely formal after what they had shared. But perhaps that was for the best. In the night they had become different people, and that