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This room might be her fantasy, but could she say the same about her marriage?
It had started as a pretence, built on shaky foundations, something transient and intangible that could vanish as easily as any dreams she once had for the two of them.
'Why did you build a room like this when you had no idea I'd ever see it?'
He shrugged, his expression bashful. 'I've built my dreams from nothing. And when you have nothing, hope is a powerful motivator.'
She shook her head, confused. 'You hoped I'd come back?'
‘I counted on it.'
His confident smile set her pulse racing.
'I used to come into this suite for some time out.' He pushed to his feet and gestured at the room. 'Did some of my best thinking here.'
Confused, she said, ‘But I only came back for work and we married out of mutual benefit for our businesses. How could you have known I'd ever get to see this?'
'You would've come back, Red. It's fate.'
She refrained from snorting, just. ’I don't believe in it.'
She made her own luck, ever since she'd had the sense to flee home and relocate to London. Fate had dealt her a bum hand in the paternal stakes and she'd lost faith in it a long time ago.
Smiling, he held out his hand to her. 'It's the Italian in me. We believe in higher powers.'
So did she at that moment as she placed her hand in his and he tugged her to her feet.
'I also believe in us,’ he said, holding her close.
She wanted to lose herself in the fantasy, but logic wouldn't be denied. She had to leave tomorrow and wanted to make sure he knew where things stood with their marriage.
'You didn't believe in us ten years ago,’ she said, struggling to hide her bitterness. ‘Not enough to make us work.'
He swore under his breath and hugged her tighter. 'I was young, idealistic, and an idiot. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.'
'You don't have to—'
He crushed his mouth to hers, eradicating her protests, her rationale, her reason.
She shivered with longing as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping inside her mouth to touch hers, his hands tugging on the sash holding her wrap dress together.
It slithered to the floor in a hiss of silk, leaving her flesh bare to his exploring hands. They skimmed her skin, his fingers trailing up her thighs, lingering at the edge of her panties before delving beneath.
She melted against him, clung to him, her need for Nick astonishing in its all-consuming power.
She couldn't think when he grazed her clitoris, didn't want to think when he thumbed it, circled it, backing her slowly towards the bed without breaking tempo.
'Step up, sweetheart,' he murmured, guiding her like a maestro when they hit the dais before gently laying her on the bed, playing her body with his mouth and his tongue and his fingers until she could've sung encore arias all night.
He kept her on the edge, tormenting her with pleasure as she arched her back, thrust her hips up, desperate for him, begging for release.
'Nick, please…'
'We have all night.' He kissed her, swallowing her plea, toying with her until mind-numbing need made her incoherent.
After a torturous eternity he picked up tempo, his thumb circling her clitoris with perfect pressure, and on the next stroke spasms rocked her body, wave after wave of intense, mindless pleasure drenching her.
Before she could catch her breath he'd whipped off his pants, sheathed himself, and thrust inside her. Hard, insistent, demanding everything she could give.
