Seduced by Innocence Page 10

  Then a hand, apparently from nowhere, seized her firmly. Another hand took hold of her, and she felt herself being pulled up and up, until they broke the surface, and she realized that Maurizio had come in after her and fished her out.

  A little way ahead, the stone bank was broken by steps running into the water. He drew her along to them and helped her out. Terri collapsed onto the steps and sat there, coughing and spluttering, shivering from the effect of the chill air on her wet body. Overhead she heard Maurizio yell, “Hey, Pietro,” and when she looked up, a gondola was hurriedly approaching. “Get in quickly,” Maurizio said. “Pietro, take us to the Midas.”

  As he spoke, he was almost shoving Terri under the feltz. He followed her, pulling curtains tightly closed behind them, and the next moment, the gondola swayed as they cast off. Terri was shivering as much from shock as cold, and Maurizio pulled her into his arms, rubbing her to keep her warm, but also shivering himself. Terri clung to him, taking comfort from the feel of his strong body, and the beat of his heart, which seemed to shake his whole frame.

  “Come close to me,” Maurizio said urgently. “I’ll keep you warm.” He tilted her chin so that her face was turned up to him. In the darkness, he couldn’t see her face but he could sense her warm breath against his lips. “Teresa,” he murmured.

  “Did you see him?” she whispered. “Did you see where Leo went?”

  He made a soft sound that was perilously like a curse. “Will you forget him?”

  “How can I forget him? He’s my brother—and something strange has happened to him.”

  “It wasn’t your brother. That’s just wishful thinking.”

  “You don’t know that,” she insisted.

  “Teresa, that was not Leo,” he said emphatically. “It couldn’t have been.”

  “Why not? How can you be so sure?”

  She sensed a frisson go through him as though the question made him uneasy. “Because—because—why should Leo run away from you?” he said.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I have to find him.”

  “Teresa, stop this,” he said desperately. “You can’t spend your life chasing fantasies. You’re cold and wet. All that matters now is getting you home before you take a chill.”

  “I’m not cold,” she said, discovering it to be true. Through a crack in the curtains, a light played briefly over Maurizio’s face, vanished and appeared again. Terri could just make out his expression turned toward her, intent, angry—and something else that she didn’t have time to analyze.

  “I’m not cold, either,” he said hoarsely. “I’m burning—feel how I burn—Teresa.” The last word was muffled as his mouth covered hers again. He held her fiercely, pulling her hard against him.

  Terri felt her heart pounding as never before as she surrendered to his kiss. The man she’d glimpsed and lost was forgotten. There was only Maurizio and her growing passion for him, a passion he was doing everything to inflame by the movements of his tongue and the urgent caresses of his hands. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, and the knowledge thrilled her and spurred her on to kiss him back with new ardor. She reached up eager hands and wound her fingers in his hair, offering herself to him completely as his mouth left a trail of burning kisses down the length of her neck. The reserve of years was melting into nothing. In another moment, he would claim her here in the rocking gondola, and she would have no power or will to refuse.

  A bump as they touched the landing stage brought her back to herself. “We’ve arrived,” Maurizio said tersely. “Come.”

  He jumped out, holding Terri’s hand to help her up the steps. Before she could go far, he swept her into his arms and ran into the hotel with her, ignoring curious stares from passersby. The lift door was open and he hurried in, not noticing the other occupant until they were on their way up. “Good grief, whatever happened?” Bruno demanded.

  “She fell into the water,” Maurizio said.

  “And you heroically dived in after her?” Bruno asked with raised eyebrows and the suspicion of a wry smile.

  “This isn’t funny,” Maurizio snapped. “I’ve got to get her dry before she catches pneumonia.” His eyes met Bruno’s, commanding him to be silent. Bruno’s eyebrows lifted again, but he said no more.

  As soon as they were in Terri’s room, Maurizio set her down and began to strip off her sodden clothes. “Get the rest of your things off quickly,” he growled, tossing her dress aside.

  “What about you? You could catch cold, too.”

  He gave an unexpected smile that seemed to flow right through her. “I’m Venetian,” he said softly. “The water of my city is as natural to me as dry land. It’s strangers who have to take care.” Abruptly he left her, heading for the bathroom. Terri realized that she was almost naked. Her underwear clung to her revealingly, and she was swept by a wave of self-consciousness. Maurizio returned with a towel and a bathrobe, which he tossed to her. Then he returned to the bathroom and shut the door.

  Terri hurriedly threw off her underclothes and wrapped herself in the bathrobe, which belonged to the Midas and was the color of gold. It was too large and enveloped her chilled body gloriously. She rubbed her hair until it was almost dry, then sat down at the dressing table to comb it out. The woman who looked back at her from the mirror was a mass of confusion, with everything reflected in her face. There was the brief joy of thinking she’d found Leo, the anguish of seeing her hope destroyed, but most of all there was the memory of Maurizio’s embrace. The feel of his arms about her was still there and his kiss seemed to be imprinted on her lips.

  She drew a long breath as it all came back to her, and she closed her eyes, feeling heat stream through her body. She was as conscious of him as if he were crushing her against him, caressing her lips with his own. Now that she was alone, she could admit the truth to herself, and the truth was that she wanted him with all the passion of which she was capable, passion that had been stifled for too long. For years, her barriers had been in place, but now this man had swept them aside, releasing something deep within her that threatened to consume her. The fears of last night were gone, and she was eager to yield to her desire. She could no longer hide that from herself.

  She opened her eyes and caught her breath at what she saw. Maurizio had come silently out of the bathroom and was standing watching her. He, too, had changed into a bathrobe, which was roped in lightly at the waist in such a way that the top hung open, revealing his brown, muscular chest. He moved slowly toward her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror, until he was standing immediately behind her. Only then did Terri realize that her own robe had fallen wide open, revealing her breasts, with the peaked nipples that told the story of her desire. For a brief moment, the old shyness returned and she made an instinctive movement to cover herself, but before she could succeed, Maurizio had dropped his head to lay his lips against her cheek. Their touch was light but it was as if he’d burned her with coals. Searing awareness went through her and she threw her head back, offering herself to him ecstatically. She could feel his fingers at the edge of the robe, pulling it back and down her arms.

  He ran his hands hungrily over her while his lips moved softly over her jaw to her throat. Terri reached up to weave her fingers through his hair, breathing deeply as waves of pleasure flowed through her, turning her eager body to pure fire.

  Maurizio felt himself torn. Every fiber of his being wanted what was happening now, wanted to touch and caress her, to bury himself in her, to revel in the warmth of her, wanted her. And now she was here, her beautiful, almost naked body ready for him, and there was nothing to hold him back. Nothing except the gambler’s caution, an instinct for calculating all the odds before he made his move. That instinct was too deep-rooted to be easily defeated, but now it was almost drowned by the clamor of his senses. Her skin was smooth beneath his hands, her lips were honey against his and the scent of heat and eager expectation were almost driving him mad. Caution was becoming lost in a wild desire for possession at all cost
s.

  Of course, Elena’s daughter was a temptress, skilled in inflaming a man, rejecting him once, only to set a higher value on herself. But before the thought was complete, it was swept away by the knowledge that this had nothing to do with his revenge. At this moment, she wasn’t Elena’s daughter. She was Teresa, and Teresa was everything that was beautiful and desirable in a woman. He was caught up in a whirlwind of desire. She had to be his. There could be no other way for this to end.

  He twisted his body and sat down beside her, his back to the mirror, and pulled her across him so that she lay in his arms, her head cradled against his shoulder. He brushed his fingers against one peaked nipple and felt her whole body tremble. Then she was still, but it wasn’t a passive stillness. The breath coming through her slightly parted lips was ragged and her eyes were fixed intently on his, speaking to his senses in a silent language. It would be so easy now to carry her to the bed and take the rich feast that was offered him—too easy. “If you want me to leave, you must say so now,” he said hoarsely. “After this, there’s no turning back.” He bent low to whisper against her lips, “Answer me.”

  She took a long time to answer, as though the decision racked her, and for a dreadful moment he feared that the treasure was to be snatched from him again. But at last he heard and felt her reply breathed softly against his mouth. “I want you to stay, Maurizio.”

  “You must be very sure, Teresa.”

  “I’m sure, I’m—sure—” The last word was lost in the stampede of her senses. She felt as though a spell had been cast over her, destroying the will to do anything else but this. She knew that what was happening now was only the completion of something that had started the moment they’d met. She’d looked into Maurizio’s eyes and wanted him with a fierce, sensual longing that she’d never dared recognize until this moment. But now the die was cast. She could do nothing but yield to the clamorous demands of her body that said only he could satisfy her.

  “Maurizio,” she whispered, and felt his arms tighten about her.

  “Say that you want me,” he said in a voice that was half demand, half plea.

  “I want you.” The words were wrenched from her depths.

  He rose, drawing her to her feet also, and pulled off his robe. Hers followed, and he took her in his arms. The feeling of her nakedness pressed against his gave her a moment of awkwardness, but it quickly passed. Maurizio was touching her body everywhere, giving subtle caresses that passed quickly but left a trail of ecstasy behind them. Soon she could think of nothing but where he might touch her next, where she urgently wanted him to touch her next. Tentatively she reached for him and was entranced by the sensation of his smooth skin against her fingers. She’d never explored a man’s body before, but the intense feelings he evoked in her made her crave to do just that. He was Maurizio, and therefore different from all other men.

  His body was an instant delight, warm and smooth with hard muscles that she could feel beneath the skin. Again she had the overwhelming awareness of the barely leashed power in his frame, the same awareness that she’d recognized at their very first meeting, and which, she now realized, had physically excited her even then. Her life had been quiet and she’d been content to have it so, believing that this was her nature. But the only man to make her senses sing was a man of danger, and it thrilled her.

  He drew her onto the bed and lay beside her. He kissed her face, her neck, her breasts, cupping their fullness in his hands while his lips teased the nipples. Nothing in her life had ever felt like that, so good, so sweet. Her body seemed to have developed a life of its own. It responded to his kisses and caresses by arching against him, while blind instinct made her wind her fingers in his hair and draw his face more completely against her breasts. The slow, powerful beating of her heart felt like the rhythm of the whole world, urging her on.

  Maurizio drew back a little to look down at her and she had a glimpse of his manhood, hard and powerful, ready for her as she was ready for him. All the excitement coursing through her body seemed to be directed to the one, throbbing place between her legs, where she wanted him.

  He whispered her name softly. Through the clamor of passion, Terri detected a strange note in his voice, as though he were troubled. “Maurizio,” she whispered.

  For a brief instant, Madge was there in her mind, crying out her life-denying accusation with all its spite and bitterness. But the next moment, Madge was gone, swept away by the tide of passion. She knew now that she was right to yield to her desire, because something so deliriously sweet and wonderful could only be a gift from the gods. It couldn’t be wrong to love a man with such fierce intensity that nothing mattered but to meld her being with his.

  She could feel the moment of that blazing union approaching and her soul was joyful as she went to meet her destiny. As he moved over her, it felt right and natural to part her legs in welcome. The moment of his entry was a piercing, unfamiliar shock, then all sense of strangeness vanished. He was there, inside her, where she wanted him. She began to move her hips, trying to feel him more profoundly, wanting to weep with joy. It was an ecstatic sensation that made a pale mockery of all other sensations in her life. The Venetians were right; only love mattered. Only this mattered, this blissful union with the beloved, this perfect meeting of flesh and flesh, bringing together two halves of a whole.

  His face was there above her, dark, concerned. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”

  “Are you sure? I didn’t know—I never dreamed—”

  She had no idea what he meant. She was lost in a delirious dream of desire in which there was only sensation and emotion, and the perfect fusion of the two.

  “Maurizio.” She murmured his name in a plea for she knew not what. But she understood that this had to continue to its appointed end, and that end must be glorious. He was thrusting into her slowly, making her wild with pleasure and the tormenting realization that he was holding something back. “Maurizio…”

  He was kissing her face. “Yes? Tell me,” he murmured.

  “I want you. I want—everything.”

  He drove into her again, more deeply but with a controlled power that made her gasp. “Are you all right?” he asked again.

  “Yes—yes—go on.”

  The rhythm possessed her body, her mind, her consciousness. There was nothing in the world but this driving, exquisite repetition of pleasure. With each thrust she was carried to a new peak of delirious joy. A loud cry broke from her and she drew him close against her, thrusting back at him with her hips, trying to capture the feeling and hold it fast forever. But it was fruitless. As she felt herself carried to the pinnacle, she knew that the depths yawned beneath them. But not yet—not yet—

  Despite the buildup, the final moment took her by surprise, catching her and tossing her helplessly into the storm. Before she knew it, she was being spun around and thrown upward to glorious, unimaginable heights. Pleasure pervaded her body and she gave herself up to it with abandon until the final explosion of sensation had left her drained, exhausted and happy.

  She lay catching her breath, so overwhelmed by what had happened that she was momentarily speechless. But when she turned happily to Maurizio, she was shocked to see him looking distraught.

  “Maurizio, what—?”

  He sat up and turned to look at her. “I didn’t know,” he said. “Oh, God, I never thought—but I should have known—it was staring me in the face all the time.”

  “Didn’t know what?” Terri asked.

  “That you were a virgin,” he said with a groan.

  “Why, what difference can it possibly make?” she asked, puzzled.

  He looked into her shining eyes, and looked away again quickly. Her unreserved honesty pierced him like an accusation. She was genuine through and through. The two-faced temptress had been a figment of his imagination.

  Terri propped herself on her elbow to look him in the eye. “Do you mean I turned out to be a disapp
ointment?” she asked. But there was no apprehension in her eyes. Already she had the look of a woman who knew her own power.

  A memory of her warmth and sweetness melting against him scorched his mind. “No,” he said with tender irony. “You weren’t a disappointment. One day—it might be the other way around.”

  “One day?” she asked gaily. “Who cares about one day? I don’t even care about the next hour. I’m happy now. Suddenly, nothing seems to matter but this.” She pushed him back against the pillows and threw herself across his chest in delicious abandon. “I’m so glad it happened,” she said passionately.

  Maurizio was relieved that Terri couldn’t see his face. Despite his skill at keeping it expressionless, he knew that it would reveal everything now—his guilt, his torment, above all the secret he was keeping from her, and which suddenly seemed so monstrous.

  He tried to think practically but his brain seemed to have seized up. He knew he should go away from her right now and not come near her until he’d sorted out a hideous situation that she knew nothing about. But as he lay there telling himself what he ought to do, he was becoming increasingly aware of her breasts against his chest. There was a sense of inevitability about the way his arms settled around her, and a heart-stopping beauty about her face, coming alight with eager anticipation.

  “Maurizio,” she whispered.

  He had a last moment of sanity when his conscience shouted that he mustn’t do this—not until she knew the wrong he’d done her, and forgiven him. But conscience counted for nothing against the roaring of his senses and the delight that flooded through his heart and his body at the thought of loving her again. She laid her lips against his, kissing him with an urgent sense of purpose. It was the kiss of a woman who’d finally discovered her own passionate sexuality, who knew what she wanted and was determined to have it. With an equal mixture of dismay and joy, Maurizio recognized that there was no way to resist her.