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ticking in her throat that I want so much to kiss, to tease with my tongue, to nip with my teeth. ‘It is distracting, no?’

‘I’m not sure—’ She breaks off, all flustered, and I laugh softly.

She raises her hand to her throat and brushes her fingers over that pulse point as she avoids my eye.

‘You want me.’ I wait for her eyes to meet mine. One beat, two... ‘As I want you.’

Her lips softly part, the colour returning to her cheeks. I stay silent, daring her to deny it, and she rewards me with a look that roams all over my clothed state before she nods. The action is so contained and I wonder at her restraint. The power of it. I compare it to the Faye I met last night, the one who’s now caged inside her, and I want to release it. I want the seductress back.

‘You remember what you said to me beside the pool? That you were a damsel in distress, a lady in need?’

Another nod.

‘That you’ve not had fun in far too long?’

She nods again as her lashes flutter. Her cheeks heat further, but not with shame. No, I see the need flaring in her eyes, the thirst I want so desperately to quench.

‘That you have a week ahead of being the perfect maid of honour?’

‘Yes.’

‘And so one night of fun would be almost like a reward upfront?’

She laughs now, the sound low and breathy. ‘Yes, but that was before I knew who you were.’

‘Is who I am a problem?’

She steps back, the shake of her head weak. ‘You know it is. It complicates things.’

‘Not if we keep it discreet.’

‘You make it sound so simple.’

‘It is that simple.’

She wets her lips, the sheen that now covers them luring me closer.

‘If you’re as affected by this as I am, we can’t go on...what is the word you English favour...pussyfooting?’

‘Pussyfooting?’ I love how her lips quirk at the corners, her eyes sparkle.

‘Si.’ I carry on walking towards her as she continues back, the wall only a few steps away. She’s running out of space, but I don’t need much more. ‘I say we satisfy this need here and now.’

‘Now? But your mother—’

‘Can wait a few more minutes.’

Her brows lift and her eyes sparkle more. ‘Minutes?’

‘I’ll sort her room issues before she has to sleep another night in her current one. As for her...loneliness, if she wants to choose someone respectable to join her, I have no issue with it.’

‘And that’s what you’ll tell her?’ She’s pressed up against the wall now, her palms flat against it, her chest rising and falling with each elevated breath.

‘I will.’ I plant a hand onto the wall above her head and look down into eyes that are so blue, so hot, so fiery. ‘Happy?’

She gives a soft scoff. ‘It’s not me you need to ask.’

‘Marianna will be happy with whatever I tell her.’

‘Do you always call her by her name?’ Her sudden frown takes me aback. ‘Never Mum or Mamma?’

‘Mum? Mamma?’ I almost choke at the suggestion, thrown by the very idea, let alone the oddity, of her question. And then I realise she’s still probing, still trying to understand the Perez family better, to understand me better. ‘It bothers you?’

Her stare is bold as she works hard to read me and I fight the urge to look away. I refuse to be scared of what she might see: the truth.

‘I just can’t imagine calling my mother by her first name.’

‘Then you clearly have a very different relationship.’

‘Had.’ It blurts out of her and her cheeks lose some of their colour.

Cazzo. ‘Had?’

‘She died a couple of years back.’

‘I am so sorry.’ Her crystal blues swim with pain but she doesn’t look away; she doesn’t hide it from me. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any upset.’

She shakes her head, her breath vibrating through her body. ‘It’s not your fault.’

‘Still...’ I hold her eye. The silence beats with growing awareness, our bodies edging closer. I cup her cheek and her lips part ever so softly. ‘You were both lucky to have what you so clearly did, cara mia.’

Her lashes flutter. ‘What does that mean?’

I stroke her cheek with my thumb. ‘What?’

‘Cara mia. You called me cara mia. Doesn’t it mean...?’

My thumb stills as her voice trails off. She’s trying to deduce the meaning while I reel with it.

I did call her cara mia. And I meant it. It has many connotations and can mean many different things, but all of them are deeper than what we have here.

And who are you trying to convince?

Dio. I barely know the woman. And yet, I know how much Dani loves her and how much she loves Dani in return. I could blame it on that. A mutual love for my sister.

But that has nothing to do with the heat pounding my veins or the pain I felt in the face of hers.

‘It can mean many things—“my dear”, “my beloved”. It’s a term of affection.’

‘I thought so.’ Her smile is small. ‘A little early for that, though, don’t you think?’

‘I can’t pretend to know what you went through losing your mother, but I do know just by looking at you how much it hurt, and I am sorry for that pain.’

She shakes her head, her eyes wide, as if she’s heard something monumental, unbelievable even, so the last thing I expect is to have her hands suddenly clawing through my hair. Then her lips are on mine and they are just as hungry, just as forceful. I lose it all in a groan and press my body up against hers, my fingers deep in her hair as I do what I’ve hungered for all night and all morning.

Only, this is so much better than fantasy.

‘Rafael.’ She tears her mouth away and her eyes blaze up into mine. ‘Promise me, this will go no further.’

‘I won’t speak a word of it.’

She searches my gaze. ‘Dani, Tyler...they can’t know.’

‘Lo prometto. I promise.’

‘Perfecto,’ she rhymes, pulling my

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