An Innocent to Tame the Italian Page 10

  Her glorious hair was tied into a knot at the back of her head, unruly, wavy tendrils falling forward to frame her jawline. Her eyes shimmered with a false brightness while her mouth, painted a wild red, curved into a tremulous smile. The pulse at her neck fluttered rapidly.

  The slinky fabric fell to her ankles, shimmering with every step, the thigh-high slit in it revealing glimpses of a toned thigh. Three-inch heels finished her outfit. One hand anchored on the banister while she pressed the other palm into her belly.

  She’d never be sensationally beautiful like Gisela or Alessandra. But her beauty was more than skin-deep. It lured with those intelligent eyes, made him laugh with that beguiling mouth, stripped him to the core by peeling off her own layers. But in that dress that highlighted the innate sensuality of her slim figure, delicate cheekbones carefully highlighted by clever makeup, she looked incredibly fragile, wild. As if one touch from him would mar her innocence.

  She came to a halt at the last step, her gaze holding his, inviting and teasing and alluring. Lust spread through his limbs like drugged honey.

  She had chosen the dress with him in mind. Her expressive eyes said as much without coyness, without artifice. She let him see the desire in her eyes, demanded he do the same. Never had a woman continually stunned and stripped Massimo to his core like Natalie did.

  “Do you still believe her innocent?” Leo’s voice at his back sounded eerily like his own beneath the desire drumming through his veins. “She stands there like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped by you. She’s incredibly bold, such a tempting challenge, sì. What man can resist such open invitation? If this is not an attempt to seduce you into granting her freedom just when you tell me you’re tightening the screws on her...then I will never speak against her again.”

  Massimo tightened his jaw, fighting the atavistic urge to punch his older brother, to hide Natalie away from his gaze.

  She was dressed to draw a man’s gaze and keep it.

  Why was she into him now when nothing had changed, if not to seduce him into granting her freedom? Was he a fool to have trusted her this far?

  CHAPTER NINE

  NATALIE STARED AROUND her openmouthed, even after two hours, at the opulent grandeur that was Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. The two iron-and-glass-covered walkways met at a central piazza below the grand, wide glass dome. The mosaic on the floor, depicting so many patriotic symbols of Italy, glittered under the bright lights.

  Large circular tables covered with snowy white linen and adorned with beautiful floral arrangements that combined white orchids with bamboo were placed along the four branches of the gallery, welcoming eight guests on each. Each table, she’d been informed by Greta, cost five thousand euros, which would then be donated to a charity project offering meals to people in need throughout Milan.

  There were designers from world-famous fashions labels, tech business leaders and even the mayor of Milan in attendance.

  Massimo’s subdued mood, something she couldn’t get a handle on since she’d arrived at the lounge where he’d been waiting with his family, couldn’t take away her attention for too long. The glorious setting and the dazzling gala felt like a stay on an execution that would come tonight.

  But even the fear of where this night would end couldn’t rob her appreciation of the setting. It was as if she had entered a different era—a different world. As the formal seated dinner finished, Massimo silently studying her responses all through it, the guests started wandering. Scents of the bitter coffee and decadent chocolate lingered in the air. A pianist sat in a corner, his fingers flying over the ivory keys, Beethoven’s Sonata filling the air.

  The Galleria, she’d been educated by a smiling Gisela in halting English, was the very heart of the city that married an intricate and complex historical period of Milan with technical, engineering and industrial accelerations. She wished she had her cell phone so that she could capture the glittering night and share it with Frankie later. To look secretly at night when she wished she was part of this world again.

  Only families like the Brunettis—power and connections built into their very blood—could indulge the idea of using the Galleria, a cornerstone of Milan’s history, for a private charity dinner.

  During the day it was the site of the much-lauded Milanese luxury shopping, with many prestigious labels and brand shops. Even without any money to spare, Natalie wished she’d seen the place during the day. Wished she’d begged Massimo to bring her out for a trip to see the city.

  They both needed a break, anyway—from being cooped up in the lab for seventeen-hour days and from the tension that seemed to corkscrew around them every time they looked at each other. Damn Vincenzo, the man was like an apparition between them, choking the air around them.

  Natalie stole the chance to wander away from the Brunettis. She could already more than tolerate or ignore Greta’s snide commentary, which almost seemed to be by rote. She laughed, surprised at the thought that Alessandra might have had a word with the old woman before she had left this morning after she’d seen Natalie crawl out of the lab like a thief, tense and shaking. Tongue-in-cheek, Natalie had attributed it toward nervousness for this party.

  She was about to make her escape when Massimo clasped her arm, and coiled it through his own. The tight cast of his jaw silenced her protest. “I want you to meet Giuseppe Fiore and his CTO.”

  She nodded, her heart beating rapidly at the frost in his eyes. Had he already discovered what she’d done this morning? How? She hadn’t triggered the program to start until this evening. Even before she’d tweaked it again.

  She let out a soft gasp when his thigh pressed against hers, the heat from his body a warm caress. His chest pressed into the side of hers, grazing her breast, setting nerve endings on fire. His fingers landed on her bare skin at her waist to steady her, searing her skin. Neither did he stop. He spread his palm out, maximizing the contact, his fingertips digging into her skin, the gesture utterly possessive. Breath coming out shallow, she raised her eyes to his. “Massimo?”

  “You’re playing with fire, bella. Are you prepared to burn?”

  She could do nothing but stare into the desire he didn’t hide.

  Even seeing the beautiful Gisela on her father’s arm, in a striking emerald creation, completely in her element as they joined them, commenting about casual acquaintances that Natalie would never know, sharing inside jokes, falling into rapid Italian that Nat had no way in hell of following—even that went over her head in contrast to the all-consuming possessiveness of Massimo’s hold.

  After all, her job tonight had been to hang on to Massimo with a doe-eyed adoring look that telegraphed to everyone that he was taken. For his part, Massimo was perfect in playing the adoring fiancé role.

  Neither did she miss the way Gisela sidled to his side every chance she got, the way she put her hand over Massimo’s chest, the way she leaned into him. While he didn’t encourage Gisela, neither did Massimo look troubled by the way Gisela touched him without his consent. As if he were Gisela’s property just because he was doing business with her father.

  Natalie stayed by his side as more guests joined them and with effortless charm he soothed ruffled feathers about the continuing threats to Brunetti Finances. For a technical genius, he didn’t talk down to any of them or dismiss the questions that Giuseppe’s CTO raised as inconsequential. She couldn’t help but admire the clear, concise way he explained the security breach—her hacking attack.

  Natalie stiffened when he introduced her to them, expounding on her brilliance with cyber security design to the older man, surprising both him and Natalie.

  When Giuseppe had asked for Natalie’s experience and qualifications, Massimo smoothly slipped it in that it was Natalie that had launched the attack on BCS but very cleverly left it in the air for Giuseppe to think that she had done so at Massimo’s behest and somehow the news had leaked of his
own measures to tighten the security.

  It was a brilliant business move—using mostly the truth, he calmed Giuseppe’s fears about the security attack and yet proved that he had everything under control with Natalie at his side. Massimo might detest the business side of things, but it didn’t mean he was any less of an astute businessman than Leonardo. She saw the flash of shock and admiration in Leo’s eyes as Giuseppe bought it all.

  The older businessman was much more gracious than his daughter for he wished Natalie well, congratulating her on landing “a most brilliant young man.”

  Once Giuseppe seemed to be satisfied, Natalie pushed away from Massimo and he let her go. She drifted from group to group, slowly making her way toward the bank of elevators a uniformed waiter directed her to.

  She had held up her end of the pretense for tonight. Now, she waited for the ax to drop.

  * * *

  Voices thinned and drifted into soft whispers as Natalie made her way toward a smaller corridor that held the elevators to the HighLine. She’d heard walking on the HighLine over the Galleria would be like touching the sky. And right now, she couldn’t bear to be around a man whose opinion was coming to matter too much to her.

  The elevator car opened and Natalie stepped in. Before the doors closed, a handmade Italian leather shoe stopped them. His broad shoulders pushing the doors open, Massimo stepped into the car. Natalie pressed her hands against the cool metal, to puncture the tension filling the enclosed space instantaneously. Her belly swooped, more to do with him than the car rushing up.

  “Running away, cara mia?”

  “I just wanted to look around,” she whispered. And then hating the quaver in her voice, she straightened her shoulders. “To get away from the woman fawning over you. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”

  When he punched the button to stop it, she swallowed. “Then it’s also allowed that I follow my errant fiancée, sì? At least to make sure she’s not meeting another man in secret?”

  Natalie paled. “You can’t seriously think I’ve arranged to meet someone when you’ve cut me off from everyone. You...don’t think like that. Did Leonardo plant that in your head?”

  His jaw tightened. “Leave my brother out of this.”

  “Massimo, why are you so angry? You’ve been in a foul mood all night.”

  “Why did you dress up tonight—” his gaze roamed over her chest, and then pulled up, a banked fire in it “—when it took me three days to convince you that I need you here at the gala at all?”

  That’s what this was about?

  “I didn’t want to embarrass you or you to be ashamed of me. Even if it’s all a sham, I didn’t want you to realize I was beneath all those women. I wanted...”

  To appear to be worthy of you. The words stuck in her throat.

  How had he become so important to her that looking out for herself felt like a betrayal to him?

  “You wanted what?”

  God, she was sick and tired of being twisted by her own feelings.

  She clasped his jaw, tugging his head down to meet her eyes. Never in her life had she felt so vulnerable, so willingly weak. Only this man did that to her. He made her wish for things that would always be out of her reach. He made her wish she was...different. And that was the worst sort of thing to do to herself. “I wanted to look like I belonged on your arm.”

  The rough stubble in his skin sent longing unfurling through her stomach. She dipped her face, burying it in the crook of his neck. The scent of his skin seeped into her very breath. Her hands crawled up from his waist, to his chest, touching him, exploring him.

  His heart thudded under her palms, his harsh breaths feathering through her hair. Need and fear drove her to do things she wouldn’t have dreamed of. Instinct spurred her on. Pressing her chest to his, she vined her arms around his lean waist. Inched her legs to be cradled between his.

  Gray eyes darkened into the color of the sky during a storm. His breath came slow and shallow. Burrowing herself into him, she felt the stirrings of his erection against her belly. Hardness and heat.

  She met his gaze, then stroked the tip of her tongue at the seam of his lips. “Kiss me. Please, Massimo.”

  “Why?”

  She laughed. The soft sound filled the small space. “After all the teasing and taunting of the last two weeks, now, when I ask you...”

  A vein in his temple throbbed. “Why the sudden change in mind, then?”

  “Because when you kiss me, I forget everything else. I forget the whole damned world and what is right and what is wrong. When you kiss me, I’m not so tightly wound anymore. I’m not scared.” She sent her hands seeking into his hair, and tugged his head down. Pressing her mouth to the sides of his, she drowned herself in him. With the tip of her tongue, she licked at the soft lower lip, stroked it along the carved line, from this end to the other until the taste of him was embedded in her blood. “Don’t ask questions, Massimo. Please. Just for now. Just for a few moments.

  “Imagine that the outside world—your company, your family, your ambition—none of those exist. Imagine you met me that first night in the cyber club and we connected. Imagine that I came to you willingly, desperate for the pleasure you could give.

  “What would you do with me if I were all yours?”

  * * *

  What would you do with me if I were all yours?

  Natalie’s question unlocked all the desires Massimo had been struggling to bury since he’d set eyes on her. The press of her mouth against his, hungry and soft, seeking and searching, innocent and mind-numbingly addictive, destroyed the anger that had been brewing at her conniving intentions tonight. Right and wrong had never been so blurry.

  Cristo, he was such a cliché of a man.

  The slide of her body against his, his chest crushing her breasts, her long legs tangling with his, the way her soft belly grazed his thickening erection—it was heaven and hell. His hands crawled into her hair, tugging and pulling.

  Yes, she thought to seduce him with a motive, with a goal.

  Who said she would attain her goal?

  Who said she would win in this game she’d started between them?

  Who said he was going to grant her her freedom?

  And not just because keeping Natalie around was good for BCS, even for the hundred-billion Fiore contract. Not because she still was the only lead they had in discovering the mastermind that was strategizing all this.

  He wasn’t going to let Natalie go, not for a long while yet. Because he wanted her brilliant mind around. Because he wanted to explore this thing between them, see this through to the end.

  Acknowledging that freed him from his own guilt. From his own restrictions.

  He pressed his mouth to her shoulder, dragged it to the tender nook of her neck, licked the pulse hammering away madly. Desire was a deafening drumbeat pulsing through his body. He opened his mouth, planting a wet kiss before sinking his teeth into the supple flesh, tugging it and releasing it until she was squirming against him. Burrowing into him as if she meant to reside under his skin. She tasted sweet and salty and soft and silky. Curling his fingers at her neck, he jerked her head back, until her spine curved, until he was all she could see.

  Brown eyes muddied with desire stared up at him. Her glorious hair was coming away, rumpling all that innocence. Her chest rose and fell shakily, her nipples tight points poking against the slinky fabric. “Are you sure you want this, bella mia?” he said, desire deepening his tone, struggling to hold on to the last thread of sanity.

  “Of all the rights and wrongs between us, this is the only thing I’m sure of, Massimo.”

  Pulling her up, Massimo took her mouth like a drowning man. Dove into the soft cavern of her mouth like a starving man. With rough movements, he turned them around, until her back was against the wall and her front was plastered to him.

  She cam
e into the kiss with a groan that pulled at his control, that reverberated inside him like a bloody gong going off. As if schemes and seductions were nothing compared to her hunger for him. Her voracious mouth. Her kisses tasted like honesty and passion and innocence and everything that aroused him, that tied him up in knots, about his little hacker.

  “Anything, Massimo. Tonight, anything for you,” she whispered in a litany, sinking into his kiss, sinking those misaligned teeth into his lower lip. Hard. Pain flashed at the edges of his consciousness, crystallizing the pleasure she drew from him even more. A feral groan ripped from his mouth as she swiped that tart tongue over the hurt she gave him.

  He licked and nipped at her bottom lip, before thrusting his tongue inside. She was sweet, and hot, and Cristo, she was a quick learner the way she pressed her tongue against his when he went seeking. His hands continued their own foray, cupping her buttocks, squeezing her hips, learning every dip and swell, tracing the contours of her back before returning to her bottom again.

  With his mouth, he trailed the silky softness of her cheek, her neck, licked at the pulse again before sucking it into his mouth. He was being rough, rougher than he’d ever been with a woman on their first time, rougher with a woman who’d so bravely admitted that his kiss had been her first.

  Her little pants and mewls were like beacons guiding him, giving him a map to her body, a key to driving her as mindless as him. When he snuck his hand under the slit and cupped her bare buttock, she moaned.

  When he buried his mouth in her neck and sucked at her skin, she pushed herself into his touch.

  When he shifted the flimsy fabric of her dress away to reveal the globe of her breast that had been playing peekaboo with him all evening, she shuddered in his hold.

  When he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the plump pink tip he discovered, she sank her fingers into his hair and tugged.