Basil threw Gemma a surprised look. It was clear that the topic of Chris and his addiction was not something he was accustomed to his wife discussing. Gemma didn’t dare look at Angelo.
Then she told herself he couldn’t possibly guess her secret. She forced herself to smile calmly as they said goodbye to the Makrideses.
Angelo locked the elevator with a click. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”
Gemma’s throat closed in apprehension. “Yes.”
A frown furrowed his brow. “You told me you were an only child, I never realized you’d lost a sister.”
Mandy had denied her existence? Was that what her twin had secretly always wanted? To be the only child, the centre of attention? Did she feel cheated by having to share the limelight with a sister-or worse than that, did she resent the interest that came from being a twin? Something inside Gemma withered at her sister’s rejection.
Angelo was speaking again. “What was her name?”
“Mandy.” Her answer was terse.
“Is it still painful to talk about her?”
“Very.”
“I’m sorry.”
His sympathy and tenderness worsened the ache in her heart. His grip on her hand tightened and Gemma’s throat tightened. She loved him. Her deception pressed in on her. How could she ever tell him? She turned into his arms and lifted her face. His arms tightened around her and his breathing grew heavy.
She wanted to be close to him. Naked. For the last time. Then she’d tell him. And it would all be over.
Ten
In the bedroom they undressed quickly and collapsed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. A lamp in the corner of the room, between the wide bed and the wall of drawn drapes, cast a pale glow over them.
Angelo moved a little closer. “How did I ever let you go?”
A moment of darkness disturbed the passion that had overtaken her. He thought she was her sister. And she had to set him right.
“Angelo-”
His hand trailed across her breast, across the curve, brushing the delicate tip. Gemma sighed as frissons of delight followed beneath his fingertips. She lost track of what she had to say.
Then his tongue came out, probing, tasting the dark nipple and heat splintered in her belly. Gemma fought a groan as that maddening mouth feasted on her.
He paid homage to the other breast, and when he’d finished Gemma stared at her taut quivering nipples with a sense of shock.
What was it about Angelo that stripped her of all her inhibitions? She wanted him…but there was more. There was a sense of belonging together, a deep-rooted understanding between them that she’d never experienced with anyone else.
It overwhelmed her. It scared her. Because it couldn’t possibly survive what she had to confess.
“What are you thinking?” Angelo pulled her against him.
“Nothing.” Her voice cracked on the lie. “Nothing,” she said again, trying to make it sound convincing to her own ears.
“Then I’ll have to give you something to think about.” He stretched out a hand to stroke her naked flesh. “You’re trembling.”
“Yes.”
Her breathy reply made Angelo grow harder in anticipation. His every nerve seemed to be on edge, suspended on the razor-edge of pleasure. By contrast, her body was soft, her skin silky under his hand and a wave of tremors shook her.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, her eyes wide. He paused, determined to take it slow. Then her lips parted, her tongue tip slicked across that luscious lower lip and his control shredded.
A rush of heat seared him. He moved over her, chest to her breast, his legs sliding along the length of hers, and bent to take that tantalising mouth.
Lower down he was aware of his body pressing into her. Her thighs parted and he tilted his hips forward until no space remained between them.
This close, her eyes were velvety with desire and he was supremely conscious of his strength, the power of his arms braced on each side of her upper arms, the weight of his torso brushing her breasts and the muscles shifting in his thighs. In contrast, she was so feminine, her long legs flexing subtly against him.
Breathing harshly, Angelo lifted his mouth and shifted his weight. Supporting himself on one elbow, he rapidly readied himself with the other hand, hoping he wouldn’t erupt before he’d even entered her. The sheath of rubber rolled onto him. She shifted underneath him, tempting, impatient.
As he penetrated her, stretching her, she lay motionless. Finally sheathed deep within her, he lay against her- head bowed, eyes clenched shut-inhaling the sweet fragrance of her skin.
She moved and her inner muscles tightened on him, demanding a response. Pleasure streaked through him and his relentless control frayed. He began the slow sweeps that would take them towards a place he’d never known.
As the pace quickened so did the intensity. His hands cupped her hips, pulling her closer as he drove harder and harder into her. She echoed his ferocity.
When he thought he could take no more, when the pleasure was so great he felt that he would explode if it didn’t end, he felt her contract against him, once, twice, and it was enough to tip him over the edge, into the fire that threatened to consume him. And then he pulled her into the curve of his arm, his body warm and relaxed against hers. “Look at me.”
Gemma avoided his gaze, simply dropping her head against his chest, nuzzling his skin, breathing in his hot male scent.
She was here now. In his bed. In his life. Did it matter who he thought she was?
She stroked his stomach, let a finger trace the indent between the muscle definition. A wicked temptation called to her. Kiss him. He need never know she wasn’t Mandy.
After all, if she never told him would he ever learn the truth? Probably not. He’d had many mistresses and none lasted. Their relationship would run its course, too. This sweet madness between them would not last.
But what if it did? What then? Could she keep this secret forever?
No. She didn’t want to live with a past that Mandy had already stained with betrayal. She had to tell him. Now. While they were immersed in this special, loving glow. Acid ate the back of her throat. She swallowed. He would understand why she’d done what she had. He had to.
She pulled away a little, to give herself some breathing space, to gather her courage-and so that she could look into his face, the face she’d come to love so much.
“Hey, come back here, I want to hold you.”
Gemma propped a cushion behind her back. “Angelo-” It came out a croak. She tried again. “I need to tell you something.” She stroked his cheek with trembling fingers.
“Yes? What’s wrong?”
She bit her lip. How…where…to start? She drew a deep breath. “I told you my sister died…”
He nodded.
“She was my twin.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve heard that twins are very close. It must have been hard. You said her name was Mandy?”
It was Gemma’s turn to nod. “She died on Christmas Eve nearly three years ago.”
“Three years ago?” Then he snapped his mouth shut.
Gemma could see his resolve not to interrupt, to support her, let her explain. Her love for him swelled.
For the first time she started to hope that he might be able to accept what she was about to tell him.
