The Fall Of Jacob Del Garda (19 page)

Her bare foot began to tap on the plush cream carpet.

"Since you are no longer sleeping in my bed, you can move your things permanently to another room. Or another house. Up to you."

He opened his mouth to joke about her being simply ridiculous, but at the fast lift and fall of her chest, at the fleeting swipe of her tongue over her pouty bottom lip, every muscle in his body was slammed by an ache, especially the muscle between his legs. Then he spotted the signs of approaching tears in her eyes. The physical display of her distress almost brought him to his knees.

Guilt that he'd hurt her so badly, even if his reason for sleeping alone had been to make sure her and their child got plenty of rest, gave him a hard clip around his ear.

Fool.

Mio dio
, how could he have got it so terribly wrong?

"
Cara mia
," he said. His voice sounded too hoarse, so he cleared his throat. "You have made a mistake..."

Her chin jerked. "Have I? Have I really? Want to explain why you were not in my bed last night? Why you left this house this morning without even giving me a peck on the cheek? Why you're suddenly working on a Sunday. And..." her voice broke as she swiped an errant tear from her face. "Why you didn't want to eat with me this evening?"

The way her eyes spat green flame at him, sent tracks of fire through Nico's blood.

Dio
, he adored her in so many ways.

"There are times when I shock myself by my own stupidity. This,
cara
, is one of those times."

Her reaction to his admission was to smooth the front of the shirt she was folding and place it with great care on top of another in the suitcase.

Nico sank to the edge of their big bed, spread his long legs and rested his elbows on his knees. Regret fisted in his gut as his eyes met hers.

"I slept in the guest bedroom to make sure you got enough rest. It is very hard for me to be near you and not want you. With each passing day, my desire for you only grows. I cannot help it. And I do not want to be too demanding."

Omigod.

Bronte couldn't believe her ears.

How could she have got things so wrong?

However, she couldn't deny the truth sitting right there in front of her and looking up into her face. He was opening his heart and letting her see the true man within.

There, right there, was the vulnerability that he never, ever, showed.

And her own vulnerability, her deep love for him, rose up into her throat.

"You're not too demanding," she said in a husky voice. "My love for you grows more each day, too."

She went to him.

And his hands slid up to her waist, pulling her close.

His face buried between her small breasts. And he took a tremendous inhale.

Her hands lovingly combed through that black silky hair she loved so much.

"I'm sorry I said you were demanding. It was said with humour and love. I could kick myself for making you feel unwanted."

His head lifted and those dark eyes met hers, filled to the brim with an adoration that humbled her.

"You must always speak your mind. Whatever is in your head. Be who you are. I need to fix this."

He pulled her onto his knees. His big hand slid around her neck to pull her mouth to his for a so gentle kiss.

God, he smelt divine. Why did her husband always smell incredible?

She mewled like a kitten when he grazed his lips over hers, and then his tongue brushed her bottom lip, demanding entrance. And she had no choice but to part her lips for him and let him caress inside her mouth. Her fingernails scraped his scalp and his hum of pure pleasure added to her own as he sweetly plundered her mouth. As ever, his kiss intoxicated her senses, made her forget small hurts, small worries, as her whole world began and ended with his lips, his tongue, his taste.

Nico leaned back to stare into her beautiful face.

Her green eyes were dreamy with love and lust.

That fabulous mouth kicked even as his eyes went wide.

"You did not answer my messages or my calls," he told her. "You have been a naughty girl."

The naughty girl simply gave him a naughty grin.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Loving the way she challenged him, he leaned in, kissed her again. And decided he'd show her later exactly what he was going to do about it.

"I missed talking to you today. I was worried."

She kissed him back.

"You wouldn't have been worried if you'd stayed in our bed and given me monkey sex last night. It's your own fault I became... cranky."

He laid her down on their bed, shoved the suitcase onto the floor, then lay on top of her to cage her in. Taking great care to keep his weight on his knees and elbows.

"Cranky?"

"Yes, cranky." She looked up into his face. "Anyway, how was your day? Add another few million to your bank account?"

He dipped his head to search for that little spot under her ear that drove her crazy. The arch of her back told him he'd found it.

"Probably," he said.

She gave his silk tie a gentle tug.

"It's Sunday. Why are you wearing a suit?"

"Don Norberto Juan Ortiz Conde Del Garda, is not a man to do business in jeans and a T-shirt."

Her eyes went wide, and not just because his hand had slid under her top to rest on a firm breast.

"You were meeting with Jacob's father today?"

"I was. Until I left him to eat alone because I was worried about my wife." His big hand slid down her body to rest on their child sleeping within. "My very pregnant wife."

Her mouth went into the shape of an O.

"Nico, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were meeting him today. Was he terribly upset that you abandoned him?"

He kissed her mouth, and drove them both crazy by sucking her tongue into his.

"Nope," he muttered as he dipped his head, tasted the flesh of her breast through her lacy white bra. "He's coming to visit tomorrow with the rest of the family."

Her gasp of shock was not one of pleasure.

She wriggled under him, trying to get away.

"
What
? But... what about food? What about...?"

His teeth gently bit her nipple making her cry out.

And her body wriggling under his just made him even harder, if that was possible.

"All sorted. Oscar is going to cook for us. He has already organised a buffet. All you have to do is relax and be the hostess with the mostess."

"That's a relief." She unknotted his tie. "I think you should be
nekid
, Ferranti."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you, wife."

Reaching out he unclipped the front of her bra, absolutely delighted when heat flushed her cheeks. She'd come a long way, but his wife still hadn't quite got rid of her body issues. He adored every single inch of her. Now she was pregnant her small breasts had filled out. And they were so very sensitive to his touch. What man could resist such lush, pink-tipped temptation? Not him.

He bent his head and felt Bronte's agile fingers slipping the buttons of his shirt until his chest was bared.

"Hmm. I love how you smell. I love how you feel," she murmured as he feasted on one breast and then the other.

She shoved the shirt and jacket off his shoulders, tugged them off and tossed them on the floor. He merely tugged her sleeveless vest over her head. And then started on the buttons on her jeans.

"How fair is this?" she muttered as her fingers fought with his belt, his zip, as he toed off his shoes and tugged off her jeans and panties. "You have too many buttons and buckles. And I'm bare naked. So not fair."

God, he loved her endless legs, her smooth silky skin. She was built like a young colt, all long and lean. He took a moment to stare down at her lying spread out before him. And the bump below her ribcage, which held their child, made emotion flare in his lungs, catch his throat. How the hell had he, a street-rat from Rome, become so lucky in life?

Her arms rose to welcome him into her body. A body she gave to him without reservation, again and again.

Their eyes met, and hers were that fabulous emerald colour, and so terribly aware of him. Watching her carefully, he tested the weight of her breasts in his hands, sliding his thumbs back and forth over those tight little nipples until that awareness turned into something deeper, erotic, and full of need.

This time when he took her mouth again and again, she pressed her body against his, core to core.

The drum of his heart went faster to a furious and elemental rhythm, striving for the need to take, to possess, his woman. But just as he was about to enter her, she flipped her weight and pushed him onto his back.

God, he was so incredibly gorgeous.

Bronte's breath was unsteady as she whispered kisses over his mouth, down his throat.

"I want you. Right now." She took his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled. Just enough to have him moan, while her hand snaked between his legs to find him so hard he was pulsing in her fist.

The taut muscles of his legs, his six-pack, flexed and released against her. The power of the big man beneath her, all of him, was hers and only hers. The excitement of that filled her while she took all that he offered, until his whole body quivered for everything she brought to him.

His flesh was hard and smooth and hot, especially his erection, and she used her body, especially her hands, her mouth, her tongue and teeth to tease and torment until her own needs almost overwhelmed her.

In a smooth move, he rolled, pinning her to the bed as his dark eyes burned into hers.

"My turn," he said, and went on to utterly destroy her in the best possible way.

She cried out as hands that had been so careful, now used her with a ruthlessness that took her breath and took her screaming over the edge. Her orgasm was almost brutal as the aftermath that left her body shuddering.

And while she shook, he lifted her bottom and thrust into her.

Oh God, he filled her so completely.

His scent, his breath, his body, surrounded her.

And she loved it. He'd found her and made her his. And she'd found him and made him hers. Together they drove each other on and on.

Without warning, his eyes found hers, and Nico simply let himself fall into emerald pools filled with a love for him so pure that when her body tightened around his he could no longer hold back.

His heart thundered against his ribcage as he slumped against her, taking care not to lay his whole weight upon their child. And all the while Bronte's fingertips swept back and forth across his ass.

"Welcome home, Nico," she whispered into his ear and gave a gentle nip of his lobe.

With a soft laugh he nuzzled his nose into that perfect spot under her ear and inhaled.

Mio Dio
, his wife was killing him.

And he loved every single moment of it.

Sophie Dolman fiddled with her hair, all the while keeping a wary eye on her twin in the mirror.

Gabriella hadn't said much as they prepared for a night on the town. However, the light of battle lit tawny eyes that appeared too bright. The tilt of her chin gave her face a distinctly stubborn look. Her sister hadn't mentioned what had gone down between her and Tobin either, which was fine with Sophie. Because as far as she was concerned, the greatest sexual swordsman in history... according to his many conquests... didn't have a leg to stand on, so to speak.

Now, professional to her fingertips, Gabriella wielded her mascara wand like a weapon. Flicking the brush to lengthen her already long lashes. Then she picked up her lipstick, fire-engine red to match her dress and, hand steady, carefully slicked it on full lips. She picked up a sliver of blotting paper and kissed it.

Then she ran her tongue over her top teeth and stood.

With her hair piled on top of her head, the pissed-off and fuck-you look was now complete.

"Wow," said Sophie, sincerely impressed at the transformation from natural beauty to vamp. "I forgot how good you are with all this gloop. I hate wearing make-up."

"It's important to use a skin primer and light mineral powder," Gabriella said as she narrowed her eyes and checked out her sister.

She frowned.

Sophie knew that frown was because she wore black. Ella always said black was boring. Too bad, because Sophie liked black. She felt comfortable in black. Black enhanced the light tan of her skin. Black made her feel thin. The dress was strapless and boned and hugged her small breasts like a lover. The length might be a tad short, but at least it covered her ass.

Which was more than could be said of Gabriella's dress. A dress that revealed a scary amount of skin.

Sophie was having a hot flash just looking at her sister.

Gabriella Dolman had gone all out.

She wore the hot dress in a red silk, which barely covered the essentials. A red dress that the old Gabriella would not have been seen dead in, unless she modelled it for a magazine shoot. The old Gabriella tended to dress conservatively. The old Gabriella never had a blonde hair out of place. The new Gabriella looked hot, sultry, just-got-out-of-bed sexy, and ready to take on an entire football team single-handed.

Oh, man.

How would Jacob react when he saw her?

The man was a typical, do-not-look-or-touch-my-woman, alpha male.

Trouble was surely coming.

Sophie could smell it.

The thing about her sister was that she was, usually, ninety-five per cent of the time, a sweetheart. But when her temper was roused, that five per cent of pissed-off-I-am-in-the-mood-to-paaaaarty was nothing but trouble. And Sophie had a sneaking suspicion that Jacob Del Garda would be directly in the firing line this evening.

She opened her mouth to ask Gabriella what was the matter.

Then shut it fast when Gabriella handed her a pair of the most amazing black heels she'd ever seen. They were pointy black suede with pointy five inch heels and ribbon and lace. Wow. They were simply amazing. Plus, they had a red sole.

"Louboutin's?" Sophie squeaked.

Gabriella clung on to the doorframe as she slid into a pair of red and black animal print fuck-me heels with a red sole, too. "Yep. No pain, no gain. And they'll make your legs look even more fabulous." Then she sent Sophie a tight smile, her eyes sparking with something that looked like sheer temper.

Flinging open the bedroom door, Gabriella did her best supermodel walk as she sashayed down the hall, her heels clipping on the wooden floor.

"Here we go," she said over her shoulder as her hips swung with a purpose that had Sophie teetering after her. "Tobin's organised a limo. We'll arrive in style."

Sophie wished she had a camera to capture the exact moment Jacob and Tobin's eyes went too wide when they spotted them.

The guys had cleaned up well.

Jacob looked dark and dangerous in black Armani with a black shirt opened at the neck. He didn't look happy as he clocked the amount of skin her sister was showing. The way Gabriella's chin lifted under the narrow-eyed stare, made Sophie wonder what on earth was going to happen this night.

Tobin, much to her shock and awe, had cut his hair. He was dressed in a sharp suit of fine charcoal wool. A suit that hugged his broad shoulders in a way that made her drool. And a white crisp shirt, open at the collar, which did great things for his tan.

Tobin's brows rose as he checked her out and Sophie didn't miss the appreciative glint in his eye.

So what if he found her attractive?

Sophie told herself the flush that scorched her cheeks was from annoyance, not arousal.

But then Tobin grabbed her hand and towed her outside, down the stairs, to one of two black limos that waited.

"I'm going with Gabriella," she said, trying to jerk her hand out of his.

But Tobin simply held on tight and steered her into the back seat.

He slid in to join her as the driver closed the door.

Sophie turned to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving Jacob and Gabriella a little privacy. They've hardly had a moment alone. And they need to sort out their... issues," he said in that slow Californian drawl that made her belly ache. When the car began to roll down the drive, he pressed a button to slide up the blacked out privacy screen. "And we need to sort out ours."

So, he wanted to talk did he?

Things could get bloody.

She looked him dead in the eye.

"We have nothing to say."

Tobin bestowed a smile on her an archangel might've been proud of.

His gaze was too penetrating.

"You and I, Sophie, have a problem. A big problem. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

"Since it's not
my
problem. I'm going to do nothing."

"I don't agree."

"Of course you don't," she shot right back. "This is you I'm dealing with."

"I'm not playing here, Sophie."

"Yes, you are. You're a playboy, playing's in your DNA. It's as natural to you as breathing."

The sneer on her mouth was the only thing that marred a stunning beauty.

Holding onto patience with the skin of his teeth, Tobin swallowed a deep sigh.

Sophie was not going to make things easy for him.

Why should she?

But man, in that tight black dress, she looked outstanding tonight.

And she smelled outstanding, too.

Taking his life in his hands, he dipped his head and inhaled.

She jerked back.

"Did you just sniff my hair?"

The tone made it sound as if she'd been accosted by a pervert.

He couldn't help but grin.

"You smell wonderful," he said, and slid a little closer.

She slapped her hand on his chest.

"Back-off."

The move had made the hem of her dress slide up.

He knew it would annoy her, but he couldn't help it, his gaze lingered on those endless legs.

"Fabulous legs, Legs."

Normally, the nickname wound her up. God knew he enjoyed winding her up. But instead of being annoyed, she stretched out a long leg to study her shoe.

"They are fabulous legs, aren't they? They're strong, too. Check out the shoes. Imagine that pointy toe booting you up the ass."

Tobin couldn't help but shake his head as he burst out laughing.

That was Sophie all over.

All mouthy and kick-ass.

Man, he adored her.

"You haven't changed," he said.

And that's when the mood in the car altered.

The temperature dropped a good ten degrees as deep hazel eyes, filled with an icy disdain, held his.

"Yes, I have changed. Changed for the better. Because now I no longer hanker after something that wasn't real in the first place. You're a liar and a cheater.
In fact, you are so much worse than a cheater.
Because what you did was evil
.
You betrayed not only me, but
us
. You destroyed something special. You destroyed it when its back was turned awa
y
.
And that makes you a coward. And a contemptible excuse for a man." Tobin forgot how to breathe. Not once did her eyes leave his. Every single word was like a stab to the heart. But she wasn't finished. "So you back the hell off right now. Grow-up and stop behaving like a man-whore."

The depth of her hatred for him, exposed and stated with such hurt, such venom, made him slide back across the seat, up against the door of the car.

His hand shook, he couldn't help it, as he made a fist.

While she was in this mood, there was no way Sophie was going to give him a chance to tell her what really happened. If the car wasn't moving at over seventy miles per hour on the freeway, he'd be out the door and gone. But he was trapped in a confined space with the woman he loved. A woman who hated his guts.

How could the night have gone so wrong so fast?

He'd been determined to get Sophie alone to tell her some home truths.

But now,
she
was the one socking home truths to him.

And he didn't blame her.

If anything, he agreed with every single thing she said.

That didn't mean he was a pussy whipped coward.

Taking a deep breath, Tobin tried again.

"Please, Soph, let me tell you how it... sort of... happened."

He'd never seen eyes change so fast from ice to fire the way Sophie's did.

"How it happened?" she replied. "Tsunamis happen. Volcanoes happen. The earth happens to orbit the sun. I'm a scientist, trust me, I know how things
happen
. Her mouth,
Dick
, did not just happen to fall on your dick."

For endless moments all Tobin heard was the thunder of his heart in his ears and her breath as it heaved in and out of her lungs.

And all the while his eyes held hers.

He saw it in her eyes.

She wasn't going to listen to him.

Frustration roared like a primitive beast in his head.

Fuck it
.

Teeth gripping his bottom lip, Tobin gave a single nod.

"You're right. Her mouth didn't just happen to fall on my dick. But what you saw was not what you think you saw. And when you're ready to listen to the truth then you just let me know."

"Don't hold your breath. The words snowball and hell spring to mind."

She turned her face to the car window, crossed her legs and folded her arms.

Tobin turned to face his window.

The lights of the City of London sped past unseen.

The heavy weight in his heart told him that whatever had been between him and Sophie, it was all over.

Done.

Dusted.