The Sicilian's Defiant Maid by Carol Marinelli

Author:Carol Marinelli
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-01-20T12:51:16+00:00

* * *

‘If we keep our underwear on then we’re doing nothing wrong,’ she said, but she was negotiating with herself rather than him.

‘Agreed.’

She felt brave as they lay together, so confident in herself, and yet as they stood she held her breath, not quite so confident as he undid the rest of his shirt and she saw the dark hair on his chest, his strong arms. Her cheeks were on fire as she looked at his flat stomach, and as he stripped off his trousers she saw his long, muscled legs were hairy too, and she was, for the first time, shy.

Not scared—just a little daunted by his magnificence.

And also ashamed.

Alicia knew what she wore beneath her clothes.

She was ashamed to undo the final buttons and zip of the beastly dress.

Dante helped her out of the awful contraption, and thankfully she did not see his reaction to her underwear, for her face was wrapped in pleats of polyester when he first saw the pointed bra and vast knickers.

Alicia wanted to hide. She was silently crying in shame and she wanted to draw up her knees and cover herself from his eyes. But he held out his hand.

‘Come on,’ he said, now just in his boxers, with his erection jutting out. ‘Let’s go and do some more kissing.’

She was so flushed, so red and sweaty from the heat, and so loaded with desire. This time he did not notice her tears, for they ran silent and mixed with the rivers of sweat that poured from both of them.

The water was warm, not quite refreshing but still a relief, and the river was so low it only came to Dante’s waist. They waded further then swam to the logs where they had once played dangerous, childish, hold-your-breath games, but this time they did not climb out onto them.

Her face stung as she dipped it under the water, so wind-burned was she, but when she surfaced Dante had one arm on the logs and with the other scooped her into him. It was then that the pointed bra with awful wires that was by far too big and the vast knickers faded into the recesses of her mind.

‘You are my nice memories of here,’ he said, and Alicia knew this was the closest to romance not just she but anyone would ever get from him.

It wasn’t love he gave, but neither was it lust. It was the most precious moment of her life.

‘I’ll treasure this kiss,’ she told him.

‘And me.’

It was a kiss that would not be halted, yet so delicious and patient. The water slowing Dante just enough to relish rather than unload. His hands glided over her waist, his fingers spanning her ribs. All Alicia had to do was hold his head, or rest her arms on his shoulders, and be so deeply kissed.

His hand came to her breast but, aware of the wretched padding, she removed it and guided it back to her waist. Her consent made itself known

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