A Façade to Shatter

Zach made her feel beautiful, desirable. She wanted to keep feeling that way.

When Zach loosened the robe, her heartbeat spiked. But she didn’t stop him. She had no intention of stopping him. When would she ever get another chance to feel this way? Eligible men weren’t exactly thick on the ground in her grandparents’ village.

And even if they were, they’d have been unlikely to risk Salvatore Corretti’s wrath by sleeping with his granddaughter out of wedlock.

Zach’s warm hand slid along her bare thigh, up beneath the T-shirt he’d loaned her. His touch felt like silk and heat and she only wanted more. She shifted against him, felt the evidence of his arousal. He was hard, thick, and her body reacted with a surge of moisture between her thighs.

A sliver of fear wormed its way through her happiness. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to have sex for the first time with an American whose last name she didn’t even know? Was she going to keep pretending like she knew what she was doing even though she didn’t?

Yes.

Yes, most definitely. Today was a new day for Lia Corretti. She was finally going to be brave and decisive and in control of her own destiny. No one would force her to wear an ugly pink dress—or call her fat, mousy and weak—in front of hundreds of people ever again.

The robe fell from her shoulders and then Zach swept her up into his arms. She gasped at his strength as he put a knee on the bed and laid her back on the mattress. And then she froze as he came down on top of her, his jeans-clad body so much bigger than hers.

He must have felt her hesitation because he lifted his head, his dark eyes searching hers. “If you don’t want this, Lia—”

She put her fingers over his mouth to stop him from uttering another word. “I do,” she said. And then she told a lie. “But it’s been a long time and I—I …”

The words died on her lips. Surely he would see right through her, see to the heart of her deception. She had no experience at all, and he would be angry when he figured that out. And then he would send her away.

He pulled her hand from his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm. “It’s been a long time for me, as well.” She must have looked doubtful, because he laughed softly. “Cross my heart, Lia. It’s the truth.”

She lifted a trembling hand to trace her fingers over his firm, sensuous lips. She barely knew him, and yet she felt as if she’d known him forever. But what if she disappointed him somehow? What if this was nothing like she’d read in novels?

“But you are so beautiful,” she said.

He laughed, and she realized she’d spoken aloud. Heat flooded her. Oh, how simple she was sometimes!

“And so are you,” he said, dipping his head to drop kisses along the column of her throat.

“You don’t have to say that.” She gasped as his tongue swirled in the hollow at the base of her throat. “I’m already in your bed.”

“I never say things I don’t mean.” He lifted his head, his mouth curling in a wicked grin. “Besides, you’re forgetting that I’ve already seen everything. And I approve, Lia. I definitely approve.”

She didn’t get a chance to reply because his hands spanned her hips and pushed the T-shirt upward, over her breasts, baring her to his sight.

“Still perfect,” he said, and then he took one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hard little point while she worked so hard not to scream.

She’d had no idea it would feel like this. No idea that a man’s mouth on her breast could send such sweet, aching pleasure shooting into her core. Her sex throbbed with heat and want, and her hands clutched his head, held him to her when she feared he would leave.

He did not. He only moved his attentions to her other breast, and Lia thought she would die from the sensations streaking through her. How had she missed out on this for so many years? How had she missed so much living?

Zach’s tongue traced the underside of her breast, and then he was moving down, kissing a hot trail over her stomach. She was torn between anticipation and embarrassment that he could see the soft jiggle of her flesh. Why hadn’t she insisted on turning out the light?

But then his tongue slid along the seam of her sex and she forgot everything but him. Lia cried out, unable to help herself. Never had she imagined how good this could feel, how perfect.

He circled her clitoris with his tongue, growing ever closer, until he finally touched her right where all those nerves concentrated. Lia stopped breathing. Her body clenched tighter and tighter as he focused his attention on that single spot. She wanted to reach the peak so badly, and she never wanted it to end, either.

She tried to hold out, tried to make it last, but Zach was far too skilled at making her body sing for him. Lia exploded in a shower of molten sparks, his name on her lips.

She turned her head into the pillow, embarrassed, gasping, trying to gather the shards of herself back together again. What had he done to her? How had he made her lose control so quickly, so thoroughly?

She felt Zach move and she turned to look at him. He stood beside the bed, tugging off his clothes. He looked fierce, and her heart thrummed at the intensity on his face. She had no idea what she should be doing, but she didn’t think she could go wrong by trying to help him remove his clothes. She sat up and started unbuckling his belt while he ripped his shirt over his head.

“Just a minute,” he said, turning and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom for a second. When he returned, he was holding a condom package that bore the Corretti Hotel logo. She nearly laughed. Leave it to Matteo to think of everything in his hotels.

Zach’s jeans disappeared, and Lia’s breath caught at the sheer beauty of his body. He was hard, muscular—but he was also scarred. There was a long red scar that ran along his thigh, and a smaller round scar near his rib cage. Emotion welled inside her as she realized what it was: a bullet wound. She wanted to ask him what had happened, but he knelt between her thighs and rolled on the condom—and all thoughts of bullet wounds fled from her head as her breath shortened at the knowledge of what came next.

He bent and took her mouth with his, stoking the fire inside her instantaneously. When he stretched out over the top of her, she could think of nothing but how perfect this felt, how amazing to be naked beneath a man, his body stretched over hers, dominating hers in all the right ways.

Lia wrapped her legs around his waist, arched her body into him, her hands sliding down his back until she could grip his buttocks. It was natural, instinctual, and she gloried in the sound of approval he made in his throat.

She wanted to explore him, wanted to remember this night forever. But the fire between them was too urgent to go slowly. Lia gasped as she felt the head of his penis at her entrance. She knew this would hurt. What she didn’t know was how badly.

Zach reached between them and stroked her. “Are you ready, Lia?” he whispered. “Or have you changed your mind? Last chance to say so.”

Lia loved that he would ask. Now, like this, with his body poised to enter hers, he stopped to ask if she still wanted him. Part of her wanted him to stop. Part of her was terrified.

Brave. She nibbled his earlobe between her teeth, felt a ribbon of satisfaction wind through her at the soft growl he emitted. She was brave.

There was no other answer she could give except yes. Her body was on fire, humming from the way he touched her, the way he made her ache for more.

“Please,” she said, the only word she could manage. It came out sounding like a sob. Zach stilled for the briefest second—and then he was sliding forward, his body entering hers.

She tensed when there was a slight resistance, but it didn’t last. Zach’s eyes clouded as he looked down at her, as if he were thinking, but then she shifted her hips, and he groaned softly. He was fully inside her now, his length stretching her in ways she’d never experienced before.

It was the most astonishing feeling. She arched her hips upward, gasping as sensation streaked through her.

“Lia, you make me forget—” She didn’t know what else he planned to say because he took her mouth then, kissing her hard, urgently, his tongue sliding against hers so hotly.

They lay like that for a long moment, kissing deeply, their bodies connected and still.

Then he began to move, slowly at first, and then faster as she took everything he had to give and asked for more. The air between them shimmered with heat, with power.

Everything about making love was foreign to her—and yet it wasn’t. She felt as if she’d always known how it would be, as if she’d only been waiting for him to take her on this sensual journey.

As they moved together, as their bodies lifted and separated and came together again, she could feel something just out of reach, something wonderful and shattering and necessary. She strained toward it, needing it, trying to catch it—

And then, with a gasp of wonder, she did.

“Yes,” he told her, his breath hot in her ear as he threaded his fingers through hers and held her hands over her head, “like that. Just like that, Lia.”

Lia sobbed as she flew out over the abyss. And then her breath caught hard in her chest before it burst from her again in a long, loud cry, her senses splintering on the rocks below. Zach captured her mouth, swallowed her cries as she moaned and gasped again and again.

Soon, he followed her over the edge, gripping her hips and lifting her to him as he found his own release. He gave her cries back to her then, and she drank them in greedily, until the only thing that remained was the sound of their breathing.

Zach moved first, lifting himself up and rolling away from her. Lia lay stunned at the intensity of the experience. Like a slow drip from a faucet, uncertainty began to erode the surface of her languor.

What happened now? Did she thank him for the good time, put on the robe and leave? Or did she roll over and run her fingers over the smooth muscle of his abdomen?

She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to touch him again. Explore him when her body was calm and still.

But she was paralyzed with indecision. And then Zach decided for her. He didn’t say anything as he got up and walked into the bathroom. Lia’s heart performed a slow dive into her belly. They’d had sex, and he was finished.

She scrambled up and grabbed the robe, slipping it on and swinging her legs over the side of the bed before he returned. Before she’d gone three steps, he walked out again.

Both of them crashed to a halt, staring at each other.

He was, she thought with a pang, beyond gorgeous. Beautifully, unconsciously naked. Tall and dark, packed with muscle that flexed and popped with his every movement. He looked like something she’d dreamed up instead of a flesh-and-blood man she’d really just had sex with.

Dio, she’d just had sex… .

“Zach—”

“Lia—”

They spoke at the same time, their voices clashing. Lia dropped her gaze to the floor.

“Are you hungry?” Zach asked, and she looked up to see him watching her, a half smile on his handsome face. She couldn’t keep her eyes from roaming his perfect body, no matter how she tried to focus solely on his face.

“Not that kind of hungry,” he added with a laugh. “Though I’m definitely game for another round later.”

Another round. Oh, my … Her insides thrummed with electricity at the thought.

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she managed, her pulse thumping at the idea of doing it all again. And again.

Zach walked over to the desk and picked up the menu there. “Any suggestions?” he asked.

She had to struggle to concentrate. She knew what was on the menu without looking, but she could hardly think of food when Zach stood naked before her.

“Some antipasti, a little pasta alla Norma, some wine. It is all good,” she finally managed, knowing that her brother would serve nothing but the best in his hotel.

“And dessert,” Zach said, grinning. “Let’s not forget dessert.” He picked up the phone and ordered in flawless Italian—adding cannoli and fresh strawberries to the list—while Lia went into the bathroom to freshen up.

Her reflection surprised her. She’d thought she would look different—and, indeed, she did in a way. She looked like the cat that’d gotten into the cream. Yes, it was a terrible cliché, but it was truly the best way to describe that look of supreme satisfaction. Her skin glowed and her eyes were bright. Her lips were shockingly rosy and plump.

From kissing Zach. Her stomach flipped hard, and she wondered if she’d be able to eat a bite when he sat there with her, looking so tempting and yummy.

Lia forced herself to focus. She used the comb on the vanity to smooth her wild tangle of hair—as much as possible anyway—and wiped away the mascara that had smudged beneath her eyes. Then, heart pounding, she returned to Zach’s suite. He’d pulled on his jeans and sat in a chair by the window, staring at the screen of his smart phone. When he realized she was there, he put the phone on the table.

His gaze was sharp, hot, and her skin began to prickle.

“Your Italian is perfect,” she said, casting about for something innocuous to say. Something that would give these butterflies in her belly a chance to settle again. “Where did you learn it?”

“My grandfather was from Sicily,” he said. “And I learned it from my mother. She refused to teach me the Sicilian dialect her father spoke, but she did teach me Italian.”

Her gaze slid over him again. Now that she knew he had Sicilian blood in him, she could see it. He had the hot, dark eyes of a Sicilian. “Then you have been to Sicily before, yes?”

He inclined his head. “But not for many years.”

She went and perched on the edge of the sofa, facing him. His gaze slid over her, warmed her in ways she hadn’t known were possible before tonight. “You are friends with the bride’s family or the groom’s?”

He laughed. “Neither. I came with a friend.” He picked up the phone again and frowned as he glanced at the screen. “I can’t seem to find her, though.”

Her. Lia swallowed as her stomach turned inside out. Of course a man who looked like this one was not alone. But where was his girlfriend, and why hadn’t she come searching for him? If it were Lia, she wouldn’t let him out of her sight.

But now she needed to do just that. Lia stood. “I should go,” she said. “It’s late, and you must be tired… .”

Words failed her. She turned away, blindly, fighting a sudden rush of ridiculous tears. But then he was there, a hand wrapping around her arm, pulling her back against him so that she could feel the hot press of his body through the robe.

“Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said stiffly.

His mouth was on her hair, her temple. “I’m not here with another woman, Lia. Not like that. Taylor is a friend, and she’s here to work.”

“Taylor Carmichael?” Lia knew of only one Taylor who would be in Sicily to work right now, and that was the gorgeous former child star. She’d heard her grandmother talking about Santo’s film, and the troubled woman who was slated to star in it.

She heard Zach sigh. And then he turned her in his arms, put his hands on either side of her face and held her so he could look into her eyes. “Yes, Taylor Carmichael. Yes, she’s beautiful and desirable—but not to me. We’ve only ever been friends. She’s the sister I never had.”

Lia bit her lip. It was almost impossible to believe that two such gorgeous creatures weren’t sleeping together. “I think you need glasses, Zach.”

He laughed. “Hardly. I know when I have a beautiful woman in my arms.”

Lia flushed with pleasure. She’d never felt beautiful. Until tonight. Oh, she still worried that she was too fat and too awkward, but she could hardly deny the evidence of his desire for her. She was quite a good dreamer, but she had definitely not dreamed what had happened in his bed only minutes ago.

What she hoped would happen again.

She closed her eyes. One time with him, and she was already becoming a woman of questionable morals.

He tipped her chin up with a long finger and pressed his lips to hers. Desire, so recently sated, still managed to lift a head and send a finger of need sliding down the pathways of her nervous system.

She stepped closer, her lips parting beneath his … and the kiss slid over the edge of polite and into the realm of hot and amazing. He was in the process of shoving the robe off her shoulders when there was a knock on the door.

He took a step back, breaking the kiss, and tugged the robe into place with a sigh of regret. “Food first,” he said with a wicked smile. “And then we play.”

Lia could only shudder in response.

They spent the night entangled together, their bodies craving the pleasure they found in each other. Lia learned more about sex, about her own body, than she’d dreamed possible.

They showered together in the morning, and then spent the day walking around Palermo, ducking into churches and restaurants, stopping in ancient alleys to kiss and touch, drinking espresso and eating pasta.

It was a perfect day, followed by another perfect evening. They were strangers, and not strangers. It was as if they’d known each other forever. Zach’s smile made her heart throb painfully whenever he turned it on her. His laugh had the power to make her ache with raw hunger.

They talked, in Italian and in English, about endless things. She confessed that she was a Corretti. Zach didn’t seem to care, other than a brief lifting of the eyebrows as he connected her to the hotel owners.

She discovered that Zach lived in Washington, D.C., and that he’d met Taylor Carmichael at a clinic for military veterans. She didn’t ask about his scars because he’d grown tight-lipped when he’d told her that much.

They returned to the hotel, to his room, and spent the entire night wrapped in each other once more. He left the balcony doors open so that a breeze from the sea blew in. Church bells chimed the hour, every hour, but sanctuary was in this room, this bed.

And yet it was ending. They both knew it. Lia had to return to her grandparents’ estate, and Zach was going back to the States. He’d heard from Taylor, finally, and she’d told him everything was fine, though she was somehow now engaged to Lia’s brother Luca. Zach didn’t seem too happy about that, but he’d accepted it after they’d talked a bit longer.

He did not, Lia noticed, tell Taylor about her.

Yet she kept hoping for more, for some sign this meant more to him than simply sex. It had to. She couldn’t be the only one affected by this thing between them. Could she?

But when she awoke early the next morning, Zach was gone. She hadn’t heard a thing. His suitcase was gone, everything in the bathroom, everything that indicated he’d once been here.

All that remained was a single rose in a vase and a hastily scribbled note propped beside it. She snatched it up and opened it. The military medal fell out and hit the floor with a plink.

Lia’s pulse throbbed as she read the note.

Be well, Lia.

Her heart crumpled beneath the weight of those words. Words that meant well, but ultimately meant nothing. She retrieved the medal, and then sank onto the bed and lifted his pillow to her face. It still smelled like him and she breathed it in, seeking calm.

Zach was gone, and she was alone once more. Like always.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE EVENING WAS hot and muggy, and Zach stood off to one side of the crowd gathered at the country club. He took a sip from his water glass, cleverly disguised as a mixed drink by the addition of a lime slice and a cocktail stirrer, and then set it on a passing tray.

He never drank at functions like this. It was something he’d learned growing up. Always keep your head and always be prepared for any eventuality. His father hadn’t made a career in politics out of being imprudent, and Zach had learned the lesson well.

These days, however, he was less concerned with the good impression than he was with the opportunity to escape. Once he’d done his duty—made the speech, shook the hands, accepted the honor, cut the ribbon, got the promised funding for the Scott Foundation’s causes—he was gone.

Tonight, he’d had to give a speech. And right now, his father was holding court with a group of people he no doubt hoped would become campaign donors. His mother was circulating with the skill of a career politician’s wife, smiling and making polite small talk.

There were reporters in the room—there were always reporters—but the cameras were thankfully stowed at the moment. They’d come out during his speech, of course, and he’d had to work hard to concentrate on the crowd and not the flashes. A matron came over and started to talk to him. He nodded politely, spoke when necessary and kept his eye on the exit. The second he could excuse himself, he was gone. He’d already been here too long, and he was beginning to feel as if the walls were closing in.

He scanned the crowd out of habit, his gaze landing on a woman who made him think of Sicily. She was standing near the door, her head bowed so he couldn’t see her face. The crowd moved, closing off his view of her. His pulse started to thrum, but of course, she wasn’t Lia Corretti. Lia was in Sicily, no doubt making love to some other lucky bastard. A current of heat slid through him as he remembered her lush body arrayed before him.

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