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And now memories of his stepmother, a greedy gold-digger who had married his father with clearly only one thing in mind and that was his money.
Young as he had been at the time, he had disliked the woman instinctively, and what had followed—the acrimonious divorce and the long-winded proceedings during which she had done her utmost to get hold of whatever assets she could—had taught a youthful Alessio that when it came to the opposite sex it paid to be careful. If you took your eye off the ball you were always going to be the one who paid the price.
His father’s divorce had taken over six years to reach a conclusion, and during that time those walls between them had grown higher and more impregnable.
He frowned now, a little thrown by the way the past was making itself felt. He raked his fingers through his hair and sought to get the conversation back on track, because just for a second he’d wanted to step back towards the woman in front of him, whose eyes were still glistening with unshed tears.
He gritted his teeth and shifted, but his feet refused to walk away.
‘What picture is that?’ she asked.
Alessio sensed her desire to break the silence. He breathed in deep. ‘You the older, sensible one, allowing your kid sister to live the life you denied yourself?’
‘Maybe...’
‘It must have been tough.’
‘I managed.’
‘Everyone canmanage,’ Alessio mused, considering how he had done the same, and probably at a very similar age. ‘But it’s good to go beyond that.’
His hands itched to touch her. He clenched his fists. But then he did what he’d sworn not to do and reached to brush the side of her face with his fingers.
It was a light, barely-there touch.
Sophie froze. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, could barely get her brain to work at all.
He’d touched her.
And the touch hadn’t been brotherly and empathetic. The touch had carried the pulsing feel of something sexual...something else.
Or was that all in her fevered imagination?
She wanted to close her eyes and pull him closer.
She wanted his mouth to go where his fingers still were, stroking her cheek.
The klaxon bells warning of danger were muted as she took a trembling step towards him, and when she looked at him, lips parted, her whole body alive with sudden craving, she could see the very same thing mirrored in his dark eyes.
Desire...
She heard her own soft exhalation and felt her eyelids flutter on a gasp as his fingers traced the contours of her mouth, one finger dipping inside. She sucked on that finger, drawing it in, pulling them closer.
His kiss was shattering.
She had expected it, had wanted it, hadfearedit.
His mouth crushed hers even as he drew her against his hard, muscular body. His tongue was a sweet invasion and turned her world upside down.
Never, ever had Sophie experienced anything like this. She’d never even imagined it possible to be so overwhelmed by sheer physical need for someone.
She wound her hands around his neck, stretching up, her breasts sensitive and tingling as they rasped against the cotton of her bra.
It was a moment of complete surrender.
But then common sense kicked in, swiftly followed by horror. Had she felt something similar in him? She imagined she had as she pulled away, devastated by what had just happened.
She looked at him, a hand over her mouth. ‘I...’
