Claiming His Secret Love-Child: The Marciano Love-Child / The Italian Billionaire's Secret Love-Child / The Rich Man's Love-Child

His hands went back to her breasts, pushing aside her scooped neckline to gain access, his mouth a hot brand as he sucked on each engorged nipple in turn. Scarlett was vaguely aware of crying out in pleasure, partially aware too of digging her fingers into the thick hair of his scalp as she arched her spine to have more of his heat against her.

‘You are just as passionate as you were before,’ Alessandro said against her neck, his tone husky with desire. ‘Perhaps even more so.’

Scarlett pulled away from him with an effort, her conscience an unbearable burden. She couldn’t do this. Not while he thought she was only coming to him in exchange for money. It sullied everything they had shared in the past. It tainted everything she had given of herself. She had adored him; she had worshipped him in every way imaginable. To be reduced to a mere plaything was anathema to her.

‘What is wrong, cara?’ Alessandro asked.

She moistened her dry lips. ‘Please take me home,’ she said, tears shining in her eyes. ‘Please…’

Alessandro frowned as he considered talking her into staying a little longer. He knew it would not take much to persuade her—she was clearly as aroused as he was—but something about those tears in her grey-blue eyes warned him he had pushed her a little too far too soon. He had plenty of time; after all, the Arlington project would take several months to complete. He would no doubt have numerous opportunities to convince her to be his mistress again. He would have to be patient, that was all. He had waited this long; he could wait a little longer.

He reached for his keys and gave her a twisted smile. ‘Come, tesore mio,’ he said. ‘I have found out what I needed to know in any case.’

Scarlett wanted to ask him what he meant, but she had a feeling she already knew. She followed him out to his car and sat in a miserable, guilt-stricken silence as he drove her back to her tiny flat.

He walked her to the door and waited until she had unlocked it, before he bent down to press a barely-there kiss to both of her cheeks. ‘Sweet dreams,’ he said. ‘I will see you soon, no?’

Scarlett’s throat was almost too tight to reply. ‘Y-yes…’

Once Roxanne had left a few minutes later Scarlett went into her son’s bedroom. One of his little arms was flung over the edge of the bed, the other clutching a matchbox car close to his face. She gently unpeeled his little fingers, her heart contracting painfully when she found a shiny-black Maserati lying there…

‘Phone for you,’ Roxanne said when Scarlett came inside the studio the next morning. ‘It’s Alessandro. By the way, I told him you’re not involved with Dylan. And you can stop looking at me like that. He asked and I answered.’

Scarlett was still scowling as she picked up her extension. ‘Hello, Scarlett Fitzpatrick speaking.’

‘So you have decided to concentrate your efforts on the biggest return, eh, cara?’

‘That is a despicable thing to say,’ she said, turning her back on Roxanne.

‘Are you missing me, cara?’

Scarlett felt her heart miss a beat at that low, velvet drawl, her stomach crawling all over again with desire.

He suddenly laughed, the deep rumble sending tiny shivers of reaction to the core of her being. ‘You cannot help yourself, eh, Scarlett? You want me even though you do not want to do so. It is the same for me. I did not think I would feel this way about you, but I do.’

Scarlett held her breath. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I am saying I want to see you tomorrow night when I get back from Melbourne.’

She flattened her lips together, stalling as she tried to withstand the temptation.

‘I will come to your house, if you like,’ he offered. ‘My flight back to Sydney is not a late one.’

Her hand tightened on the receiver. She wanted more time to prepare Matthew for a visit from his father. She wanted Alessandro to know for certain he was Matthew’s father when they met for the first time. She had been lucky before, as Matthew had been fast asleep in bed and Alessandro hadn’t seemed to notice the photos on the wall unit, but if he came around for any length of time…

‘Umm…I don’t think that’s such a great idea,’ she said, knowing it sounded pathetically lame. ‘I’d rather meet on neutral ground.’

‘I will book a hotel room and then no one will disturb us.’

‘No! That’s sound so…so terribly tacky,’ she said and releasing a breath of resignation, added, ‘I’ll come to your house…after I’ve put my son to bed. But I insist on making my own way there.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘If you insist.’

‘What about Velika Vanovic?’ she asked after a tiny but tense pause.

‘What about her?’ His tone was impersonal and cool.

‘She’s your current mistress, isn’t she?’

‘She is not relevant to us, Scarlett.’

‘Are you still seeing her and sleeping with her?’

‘Why are you so interested?’ he asked.

‘I don’t like sharing.’

He laughed again. ‘You are so delightfully transparent. I like that about you. I like it a lot.’

‘And yet you think I lied to you about our son.’

The silence this time was taut as a wire strained to its limits.

‘I will see you tomorrow evening, Scarlett,’ he said in a curt tone.

‘I might not be here,’ she said with reckless abandon. ‘I might change my mind at the last minute.’

‘You will be there,’ he said, and ended the call before she could contradict him.

Roxanne came over to Scarlett’s desk. ‘Let me guess, you want me to babysit again, right?’

Scarlett bit her lip and nodded.

Roxanne gave her shoulder a tiny squeeze. ‘You’re doing the right thing, honey,’ she said. ‘You have to sort this out one way or the other, and now’s the time to do it.’

The following evening Scarlett stood on the doorstep of Alessandro’s house with legs that trembled as she heard his footsteps approach the front door to answer her summons.

She clutched her folder to her chest and forced her eyes to meet his as he opened the door. ‘I have some preliminary mock-ups for you to look over,’ she said, nervously moistening her mouth.

‘Come and show me what you have been up to,’ he said with an unfathomable smile.

Scarlett followed him to where he had drinks and nibbles set out and, pushing her reservations to one side, took a glass of white wine and sat next to him on one of the sumptuous leather sofas. She took a tiny sip, trying not to notice how close his thigh was to hers. She could see the bunching of his muscles as he leaned forward for the bowl of crisps, her stomach beginning to prickle with desire at the thought of those long, strong legs entrapping hers, the way they had done in the past.

‘Do you want some?’

Scarlett blinked at him vacuously.

He smiled as he held the bowl under her nose. ‘You have gone all glassy-eyed on me, cara,’ he said. ‘What is going on in that beautiful blonde head of yours, mmm?’

Scarlett wondered he couldn’t see what was going on for himself. She felt as if her need for him was written all over her skin, every fine pore ached to feel the glide of his hands on her flesh. Her cheeks felt hot, indeed her whole body felt as if it was smouldering, and she knew one touch from him would send her into flames.

She put her glass on the coffee table and began to get to her feet. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come here tonights…’

One of his hands came down over hers and held her fast. ‘No, Scarlett,’ he insisted. ‘Do not leave.’

Scarlett looked at their joined hands and felt a feathery sensation run up her spine. Her breasts began to tighten beneath the soft lace of her bra as his thumb began to stroke her wrist, her pulse going like a threshing machine as he pulled her closer to bring his mouth into contact with hers.

She tasted wine and salt and sex, a devastating combination that left her with no hope of resisting. It was as if her body was specifically programmed to respond to him and him alone. She kissed him back without reserve, her tongue tangling with his in a sensual dance of dangerous desires finally unleashed. She felt the increasing urgency in him as he pushed her back to the cushioned comfort of the sofa, his weight coming over her, his erection nudging at her intimately as his hands went to her breasts.

She drew in a sharp little breath as he shaped her through the thin fabric of her dress—but her breathing stalled altogether when he deftly unzipped her and unclipped her bra, so he could have his mouth on her bare skin. His lips closed over one tight nipple, making her back arch, and her toes curl so much her shoes fell to the carpeted floor with two soft little thuds.

He took her other nipple and suckled hard, the drawing of his mouth on her flesh making her whole body writhe in response.

‘I want you, Scarlett,’ he said as he removed the rest of her clothes before starting on his own. ‘I want you so badly I cannot think of anything else.’

She looked down and touched him, almost reverently. He was so hard, so fully aroused. She wanted to reach down and taste him, to feel him move within the moistness of her mouth, to feel his control straining at the leash as she subjected him to one of the most intimate acts of all between lovers.

‘If you want me to stop then you had better tell me now,’ he said, even as he separated her tender folds in preparation for his entry.

She answered by kissing him on the mouth, her tongue meeting his in a dance of mutual desire that left words totally unnecessary. She felt him surge fully into her warmth, the thickness of him after so long making her wince slightly as her slim body accommodated him.

He pulled back and looked down at her in concern. ‘Am I hurting you?’

‘No…’

‘Am I going too fast for you?’

She shook her head, unable to speak for the emotion clogging her throat. It felt so good to have him so deep and warm and hard inside her. Her body had missed him so much; for nearly four years she had lain awake at night, aching for exactly this, feeling his flesh on her flesh, his skin on hers.

He brushed her mouth with his in a kiss that was as light as air but as hot as fire. ‘I have been going mad with the need to do this,’ he groaned, easing himself inside her gently. ‘You feel so perfect.’

Scarlett let out a breathless gasp of pleasure as he filled her completely, his slow, gently rocking motion making her want him harder and faster. She clutched at his buttocks with her fingers, and he responded by upping his pace until she was writhing against him uninhibitedly, her legs like jelly as she felt each hard thrust bring her closer and closer to the release she craved with all her being.

Suddenly she was there, her body exploding with an orgasm so intense she felt as if she had momentarily lost consciousness. Wave after wave of pleasure swamped her being, her nerves twitching and jumping with the aftershocks of such a cataclysmic response to his love-making.

She felt him prepare for his final plunge into oblivion, the tension in his muscles building and building, before he thrust forward with a groan of pure ecstasy.

The silence pulsed for a moment or two as Scarlett tried to get her breathing back under control.

‘Scarlett…’Alessandro said, lifting her chin with the pad of his index finger, his hazel eyes taking in the creeping colour staining her cheeks. ‘Do not be ashamed of what just happened between us.’

Her teeth began to savage her lip. ‘It shouldn’t have happened. I can’t believe I let things go that far…’

His hands came down on the tops of her shoulders. ‘Listen to me, cara,’ he said. ‘I wanted that to happen. We both did. We are both consenting adults who have a fierce attraction for each other. Why not enjoy it while it lasts?’

She slipped from beneath his hold and, scooping up her dress, fumbled her way back into it. ‘I-I can’t do this, Alessandro…’ she said, her voice catching over the words. ‘It’s not what I want for my life.’

‘What do you want for your life?’ he asked after a beat or two of heavy silence.

She turned to look at him again, her expression so sad it pained him to see it. ‘I want to get married to a man who loves and adores me,’ she said. ‘I want a normal life. I don’t want a short-term affair with someone I no longer…’ she hesitated for a fraction of a second ‘…love.’

‘You might not love me, but you certainly desire me,’ he said. ‘Or are you going to deny that after what we just shared?’

‘No…of course I’m not going to deny it,’ she said, shifting her eyes from the determined probe of his. ‘I am still attracted to you…’ She bit her lip again before adding, ‘Much more than I realized.’

He stepped towards her again and captured her waist with his hands. ‘I want you back in my life, Scarlett,’ he said with an implacable edge to his voice. ‘I want you like I’ve wanted no other woman.’

She lifted her gaze to meet his. ‘But for how long? You’re well known for your fly-by-night relationships, Alessandro. I can’t do that, living holding my breath as if each day could be the last we have together.’

‘I cannot answer precisely,’ he said, dropping his hands from her waist. ‘It depends on how things go with the Arlington redevelopment…and other things.’

‘I suppose by other things you mean your current mistress, Velika Vanovic?’ Scarlett asked with a scathing set to her mouth.

He gave her a level look. ‘I am no longer involved with Velika Vanovic. You are the person I am now involved with, and after what just happened here I am not going to give you up without a fight.’

‘But you said you weren’t going to blackmail me any more,’ she said as the pit of her stomach began to quake in alarm in case he changed his mind. ‘Surely it is up to me whether this goes any further?’

His expression communicated nothing but iron-clad determination as he reached for her again. ‘I do not need to blackmail you. I can see how much you want me. You have already proven it.’

‘No,’ she said, making a vain effort to push him away—but somehow her hands wouldn’t cooperate, instead clutching at him with clawing need. ‘I don’t want to be involved with you again.’

‘Yes you do, Scarlett,’ he said, beginning to nibble on her earlobe in the way that made her spine instantly turn to liquid. ‘You want me again. Once is never enough for you, or for me. I am already hard again.’ He captured one of her hands and placed it on the hard ridge between his legs. ‘Do not leave me in this state, tesore mio,’ he groaned. ‘I want you right now.’

Scarlett’s fingers began stroking him almost of their own volition, the temptation of his body too much to withstand. How could she possibly deny herself the magic of his love-making? It was all she had ever wanted from the moment she had met him—to be in his arms, spinning out of control with the passion that constantly smouldered between them.

He groaned again. His teeth gritted as he fought for control, his head thrown back as she sank to her knees in front of him, her soft breath wafting over him tantalizingly, before she began stroking him with the tip of her tongue. His hands went to her head, his fingers delving into her hair as she slowly tortured him, each moist glide of her tongue taking him that much closer to the point of no return. She felt the power she had over him and it excited her, just as much if not more than it had done in the past.

His fingers dug deeper into her scalp. ‘No, cara, I cannot take any more,’ he said, breathing heavily.

Scarlett kept on caressing him, stroking then sucking in turn, until he exploded with a muttered curse, his body sagging against her once it was over.

She straightened, and was about to step backwards when he stalled her by encircling one of her wrists with his hand. ‘No,’ he said. ‘This is a two-way street, Scarlett, remember? Just like in the past, you do not get to do that to me unless I am allowed to return the favour.’

Scarlett pulled ineffectually at his hold but her heart wasn’t in it, and she could tell he knew it. She drew in a gasping little breath as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom she had designed only months ago, her excitement building as his eyes burned into hers with sensual promise.

‘You are so very sensual, Scarlett,’ he said as he joined her on the bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress. ‘I cannot get enough of you. I have craved this for so long—to see you again, to feel you again, to make love to you again as we used to do. I have missed what we had so much.’

‘I’ve missed it too,’ she said in a soft whisper as she stroked the lean line of his jaw. ‘You have no idea how much.’

He traced the point of his index finger from her belly button to the tiny landing-strip of dark-blonde hair that shielded her femininity. ‘I have never forgotten the taste of you,’ he said in a low growl. ‘God, the nights I have lain awake thinking of the taste of you.’

Scarlett drew in a ragged breath as he bent his head to her moist warmth, his tongue moving against her swollen point of pleasure with exquisite expertise. She had no control over her response; it shook her from the inside out, each movement of his tongue sending her into a vortex of feeling that reverberated throughout every part of her body.

He moved back over her, his thighs entangled with hers in an erotic embrace as he entered her silken warmth in a strong, gliding thrust that sent sparks of pleasure from her head to her curling toes.

His mouth came down on hers, the sexy saltiness of her body mingled with his warm breath as he played with her lips, tugging at them with his teeth, teasing her tongue into a passionate duel. She nibbled at his bottom lip, sucking on it, pulling at it with her teeth and then sweeping over it with the tip of her tongue, the deep groans of pleasure he was emitting from the back of his throat thrilling her, and inciting her to do it all over again and again.

He responded by increasing his pace, his body driving into hers with tender force, the thick, hard length of him caressing her in all the right places. She only had to tilt her hips upwards to feel the first flicker of release, the second and third quickly following, until she lost count as she shuddered her way through another mind-blowing orgasm.

Her body was still pulsing with the aftershocks when she felt his whole body tensing above hers in that final second or two before he finally lost control. His face contorted with pleasure as he sucked in a harsh breath before releasing it in a rush as he spilled himself with explosive power.

In the silence that followed Scarlett felt her conscience begin to prod at her. She wasn’t a sleep-around sort of woman, she never had been. She had only had one lover apart from Alessandro and now, with the responsibilities of a small child, she could never treat any relationship with a man as just physical. And certainly not this man—the father of her son.

Alessandro propped himself up on his elbows to look down at her. ‘This feels so right,’ he said with a wistful look coming and going in his dark, intense gaze. ‘This part always felt so right between us.’

She compressed her lips, trying not to show how emotionally affected she was. ‘But I want much more than you are prepared to give…’

He got off the bed, reached for a bathrobe, and tied it around his waist. ‘I have told you the rules,’ he said with a curt edge to his voice. ‘This is all I can offer you, Scarlett. Believe me—you should be content with that.’

Scarlett reached for her wrinkled clothes and struggled back into them, hoping she wouldn’t betray herself by crying uncontrollably. ‘I need to go home. It’s getting late.’

He came from behind and held her against his solid, hard male warmth. Her breath whooshed out of her lungs as she felt his growing arousal behind her, the thin barrier of her clothes not enough to stop her from responding with a soft whimper of pleasure as his mouth began to nuzzle against her neck, and his hands cupped her already tingling, peaking breasts.

‘You do not really want to go home right at this very minute, do you, Scarlett?’

‘No…’she whispered huskily as he turned her to face him, his mouth coming down to hers. ‘God help me but, no, I don’t…’

CHAPTER EIGHT

ROXANNE WAS out on a call at a client’s house when Alessandro arrived at the studio the next morning. Scarlett heard his car first, and a ticklish feeling ran up her spine as she swivelled on her office chair to look out the window.

She watched as he unfolded himself from the vehicle. His hair looked like black satin in the morning sunshine, his lean face cleanly shaven, his dark pin-striped trousers emphasising the length of his legs and trimness of his waist, and his light-blue business shirt highlighting the olive tone of his skin.

Her stomach flipped and then flopped as he stepped onto the pavement, his eyes meeting hers through the window. She pushed herself away from the desk and stood up as he came in the door, her hands going to her thighs to smooth down her skirt.

He moved across the small space of the studio and, cupping her cheeks with both hands, kissed her thoroughly. Scarlett breathed in the heady fragrance of musky male, sharp citrus and tortuous temptation. All her carefully rehearsed reasons for not agreeing to a resumption of their relationship were suddenly deleted from her brain as his tongue flicked erotically against hers.

Still cupping her face in his hands, he lifted his mouth off hers and smiled down at her. ‘I knew you would be here waiting for me,’ he said.

She screwed up her mouth at him. ‘It is my studio after all,’ she pointed out. ‘Where else would I be?’

He tucked a strand of silver-blonde hair behind her ear, the brush of his fingers against her face making her tremble deep inside. ‘You are still fighting it, yes?’

She lowered her gaze. ‘I don’t want to get hurt…’

He brought her chin up. ‘I am only involved with you, Scarlett. You have my word.’

Scarlett wondered if she was being fobbed off. How could she tell? He was a notorious playboy; women flocked to him wherever he went. He had said it himself: he wasn’t the settling-down type.

‘If you do not believe me, read this morning’s paper,’ he added.

Scarlett’s gaze went to the folded newspaper lying on Roxanne’s desk. They usually had a quick flick through it during their coffee and lunch breaks, but with Roxanne still out at a client’s house, and with the number of calls Scarlett had had to make in her partner’s absence, there hadn’t been time to even put on the kettle.

‘There is a short article about us on page three,’ he informed her.

‘About us?’ she asked, her eyes going wide. ‘What do you mean “about us”?’

He walked over to Roxanne’s desk, picked up the paper and opened it to the page where a small paragraph was headed: Billionaire Hotelier involved with Local Interior Designer.

Scarlett read the accompanying paragraph with her heart kicking like a wild brumby in her chest. It was only a few words about her and the studio, and thankfully no photograph accompanied it. It simply stated she was the new love interest of Alessandro Marciano.

She closed the paper and handed it back to him. ‘Well, that just goes to show you can’t believe everything you read in the press,’ she said with an embittered look. ‘I am not your love interest, am I, Alessandro? I am just someone to sleep with, someone to slake your lust with. You just want a fill-in affair while you are here—let’s not go calling it anything else.’

His hazel eyes caught and held hers. ‘Love is a favourite word of yours, is it not?’

‘It’s not just a word,’ she said. ‘It’s a feeling, and in some ways almost a way of life. You’ve always shunned it, but you don’t know what living is all about until you allow yourself to love someone more than life itself.’

She swallowed as he stepped towards her again, his hand tilting her face so she couldn’t avoid his penetrating gaze.