The Italian's Suitable Wife: Italian Husbands by Lucy Monroe

Author:Lucy Monroe [Monroe, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780373124251
Amazon: 0373124252
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2004-10-01T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

GIANNA didn't move, unable to believe what Rico had just said. Show him? How?

He reached across the width dividing them and tugged on her wrist. "Venuto a me."

His huskily growled command to come to him sparked an instant ache deep in her core while his grip on her wrist kindled an uncontrollable desire for more of his touch. She stared at him, feeling like a small animal mesmerized by a predator ready to pounce.

Did he mean what she thought he meant?

"W-why?" she managed to stutter out in a whisper past a throat as dry as the sand in the Sahara.

The tug on her wrist increased. "Come here and you will find out."

How could seven little words short-circuit her brain and send her pulses rioting? She loved him. She wanted him. She'd been pining for his touch since New York. She felt more alive right now with just his fingers circling her wrist than she had any time in the week since their wedding.

That knowledge along with a trick of the light that made him look vulnerable undermined any resistance she might have considered putting up. At least that is what she told herself as she docilely allowed him to pull her to his side. Once there, she lay in total silence, wondering what came next.

"Sit up."

Captivated by the intense sensuality that seemed to come off him like an electric force field, she did as he said without a murmur. She knelt beside him, her knees centimeters from his powerful thigh. She could now see he'd left on the silk boxers. In deference to her feelings?

"Unbraid your hair, tesoro." She didn't know why, but she felt compelled to obey the enthrallingly sexy voice of her husband. She carefully undid her braid, finger-combing the long chestnut strands into a curtain down her back and over one shoulder. He watched her with deep concentration that made her hands tremble.

When she was done, he reached out and ran his fingers through the hair covering her shoulder and breast. "So soft."

She shivered as the pads of his fingers brushed over her nipple in their path to the end of her hair. He smiled and repeated the entire process, beginning his long caress in the hair at her nape and following it down again, but this time when he reached her breast, he stopped. He cupped her and rubbed her nipple into more pronounced arousal. The sensation of hair brushing against the thin fabric of her nightgown over her very sensitive flesh sent her nerve endings into orbit.

"Take off your nightgown," he commanded gutturally.

Her breath caught somewhere between her breastbone and expelling. She didn't think she could do it. She wasn't one of his experienced lovers, used to undressing for a man. Gianna had never been nude with any man but Rico. She shook her head.

‘‘Do you want me to stop touching you?''

How could he ask such a stupid question? He'd barely begun and she felt as if her entire body had gone on red alert.

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