She just needed to get over it.
Julietta focused on conversation. “How did you meet Sawyer, Mama?” She made sure her direct question completely cut out his answer. He stiffened. A whirling array of emotions flickered in those tiger eyes, but they cleared so fast she wondered if it was her imagination.
A short silence fell over the kitchen. She knew then there was a story here—and waited for her mother to tell it.
Finally, she’d get a piece of the missing puzzle that made up this mysterious man and maybe gain some leverage.
“I was having a drink with Max’s mother at the Prospect Hotel. Sawyer was at the bar with his boss. My goodness, it was so long ago I barely remember, but I think there were harsh words exchanged. His boss was being quite abusive.
How old were you? Twenty-two?”
“yes.”
His tone was flat, and his face held no expression.
“Anyway, his boss left, and I couldn’t get the bartender’s attention. Sawyer bought me a drink, and we began chat-ting. He reminded me so much of Max: young, ambitious, ready to conquer the world.”
Julietta waited. Silence fell. “That’s it?”
Mama Conte glanced at her with surprise. “yes. Why, how did you think we met?”
Her gaze locked with Sawyer’s. Heat crawled up her body, scratched under her skin, and dampened between her legs. This weird sexual power he commanded was too much for her, but damned if she’d let him win this staring match.
“Sawyer was quite mysterious about your meeting. I just thought there was more to the story.”
“Not that I recall. Did anything else happen, Sawyer?”
He paused only a moment. Her gut screamed something big had occurred in that bar with her mother, but she was letting him hold the reins. Finally, he gave a tight-lipped smile. “No. That was it.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Damn, she needed some ammunition. No matter how hard she dug, his past was a blank canvas before he stormed into the business world. She hated the idea that he knew more about her.
What was worse?
He realized it.
Mama kept talking. “It’s amazing how life works. you met Maximus on a business venture, and now you will be a permanent part of our bakery with Julietta. Almost as if you were meant to be with our family.”
Alarm bells rang in her head. Hell, no. She refused to share her quiet Sunday dinners with a man who only wanted to press her sex buttons. Their relationship had to stay firmly in the office, where it belonged. She cleared her throat. “Umm, Sawyer probably likes to keep his work life clearly separated. We need to respect that.”
Mama Conte snorted and cut her hand in the air.
“Nonsense. As I tell you all the time, you need more outlets besides work. Dinner with friends and family are necessary in this lifetime. Money and success are not everything.
Happiness is.”
Julietta crammed another cracker stacked high with pepperoni in her mouth to keep herself from screaming.
Sawyer steepled his fingers and watched. Humor danced in his eyes. “I agree,” he said slowly. “In fact, I told Julietta I’d love to spend more time with her on a personal basis. I don’t know too many people in Milan.”
She swallowed the dry crumbs and barely fought off a choking fit.
“A wonderful idea. From now on, you will join us for dinner on Sundays. I’m sure Julietta will make time from her busy schedule to introduce you to some of her friends.”
“Thank you.”
Her eyes widened. Mama placed heaping bowls of man-icotti and fresh salad in front of them and beamed. “Isn’t this wonderful? Now both of you.
Manga
.”
Sawyer winked and picked up his fork.
…
“Why are you bothering me?”
They sat on the back terrace with cups of cappuccino and a plate of freshly baked honey almond biscotti. open and airy, with a view of the lagoon-type pool and lush gardens, the wrought-iron furniture added to the old-world appeal of Mama Conte’s villa. Terra-cotta pots lined the colorful cobblestones and burst with various herbs and fruit plants, just waiting to sprout at the first sign of spring. The last sting of winter hung fiercely on, but the bite in the air cleared Sawyer’s lungs and sharpened his instincts. The mountains shimmered in the distance, and the sound of bubbling water from the sculptured marble angel soothed his ears. He propped up his legs on the opposite chair and dipped the cookie into his coffee. “I’m not. your mother likes me.”
She rolled her eyes. “My mother likes everyone. She’d invite a serial killer to supper.”
“Nice.”
“What really happened between you and Mama? It feels like there’s something else you both aren’t telling me.”
oh, there was. Not that he’d confess such a big piece of his past. Mama Conte had saved his life and put him on a new path that changed everything. The memory of their most recent encounter flickered before him.
She’d come to see him when he scored his first big coup with La Principe Hotel. Proud of what he had accomplished with her help, drunk on the victory of leading a life he only dreamed about, he’d treated her to lunch, and then he’d taken her in his arms for a gentle hug. He spoke in Italian to her and made a vow—a sacred promise from his very gut and soul—and whispered in her ear.
“
La devo un grande debito. Se lei mai ha bisogno di me,
farò che lei chiede.”
“I owe you a great debt. If you ever need me, I will do
whatever you ask.”
He intended to honor that promise if the opportunity to do so ever came. Sawyer stuffed back the memory. “Let’s just say I knew immediately she was an extraordinary woman. Must run in the family.”
“Look, I don’t want our relationship blurring from business to personal. I’ve told you over and over, though you seem not to listen. I’m not interested.”
“So you did.” He swung his head around and studied her. He loved the slight vulnerability she showed today. In her casual clothes, with her hair blowing loose and sexy, she looked approachable. young. Her bare feet were tucked under her legs, which seemed tiny for such a tall woman.
The ice queen image was packed away for a bit, and he wondered at the raw need rising in his gut. He ached to tug her onto his lap, clasp the back of her head, and feast on those pale pink lips. Thrust deep until moans were ripped from her throat and she begged for more.
The woman was a mass of contradictions. Savvy busi-nesswoman. Bad-ass motorcycle rider. Sweet and domes-tic in her mama’s kitchen. When she had shrugged off her sweater during dinner, he had spotted a purple lace strap beneath that conservative T-shirt, and he’d gone hard in-stantly. Holy crap, the woman wore sexy underwear.
Somewhere, underneath all that proper restraint, lay a hidden temptress dying to escape. He bet she wore thongs.
Probably a matching violet. Would she be bare and shaven?
or hidden by a silky triangle of dark hair, trying to mask her secrets?
“Hello? earth to Sawyer?” She snapped and scowled in his direction. “Why do you have that weird look on your face?” The woman shifted and he caught a flash of cherry red toenails. Not clear gloss or conservative peach. Fire-engine red. yep, he was a complete goner.
“Just thinking.” He reached out and caught a section of her hair. It rippled and clung to his fingers like a lover.
Strands of fiery wine threaded through the brown and played a sexy game of peekaboo. “your hair is beautiful. So long and silky.” He loosened his grip and allowed the locks to drift softly back to their position. His fingers brushed her cheek. “And your skin is flawless. Golden and smooth. If I ran my tongue over you, would you taste like chocolate and coconut?”
Her breath hitched, but she never surrendered. “Here we go. Are my eyes like dark pools of desire, awaiting you to drown in them?”
Sawyer shook his head. Damn, she was sharp. “Not bad.
I was sticking with the chocolate reference, so I was going to go with cocoa.”
Her lip twitched. “overdone.”
“Maybe. I’ve been thinking about your breasts a lot, too.”
“Hmm, let me try. Milky globes of flesh?”
“Awful, just awful. No, they’re high, firm, with long, sen-sitive nipples that push against your bra. I’ve been dream-ing of the color, though. Pale pink like cotton candy? or ruby red like a delicious strawberry?” Her eyes dilated, and he took advantage by trailing his finger along the line of her lips, pressing against the pouty curve with his thumb. Like a doe caught in the middle of a grassy field, she held perfectly still and waited, as if sensing danger. “I imagine they’ll swell and tighten when I take them between my teeth. I’d enjoy biting your nipples, Julietta. Sometimes the edge of pain blurs into pleasure and takes you higher. I’d like to explore that edge with you.”
“Stop—”
“Why?” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in. His breath rushed over her moist mouth, and the blood rushed to his dick in cranky demand. “Hasn’t a man ever told you what he wants to do with you? Verbal foreplay is key in getting a woman ready. The brain is the greatest sexual tool, and many don’t use it to its potential.” His other hand dropped to her jeans-clad leg and stroked over her knee. “your legs were made to wrap around a man’s hips as he thrusts deep. Long and muscled, with those pretty red toenails. except I may ask you to keep on those high heels you love so much. I think I’d enjoy the sting of your heel in my thigh as you demand your pleasure.”
Heat tinged her cheeks. Aware that she was completely under his spell—for a few seconds anyway—he inserted his thumb between her lips, looking for entry. She paused only a moment. Then opened her mouth.
His finger slid in and her wet tongue lashed out. He sucked in his own breath.
“But I’d make you wait,” he murmured. “Because I imagine you’ve tortured me for far too long. I’d slide my fingers into your tight, slick pussy, tease your clit, and make you beg.”
Her teeth bit down on the fleshy pad of his thumb.
Arousal exploded inside of him. “Fuck this,” he growled.
He removed his finger, grabbed her head, and slammed his mouth down on hers.
He devoured and took her the way he wanted to since the moment he met her. This was no game of tease-and-seek, no gentle touch of lip to lip. Sawyer followed his gut and pushed hard in sheer demand, for everything.
She tasted of sugar and honey as his tongue dove deep and possessed every dark, silky crevice. He swallowed her moan and sank into female heat. For one moment, she gave it all back to him—thrusting her tongue against his, her nails digging into his shoulders. For one moment, she burned bright and true and so hot he almost decided to rip off her jeans and take her right here in Mama Conte’s back-yard.
And then she changed.
He felt the shift immediately. The slight coolness of her flesh, the rigid tenseness of muscles that had been soft and giving a minute ago. He eased the pressure of his mouth as she changed from willing participant to reserved recipi-ent. The fire blew away, leaving a trail of smoke, ashes, and dying heat.
He lifted his mouth from hers and gazed into her eyes.
Loathing.
Not at him. Not for the kiss. More of a disappointment and self-loathing. The rip of pure feeling was immediately locked up and shoved somewhere else deep inside. An icy reserve coated her, and it was as if he looked upon a dis-tant stranger and not the woman who burned up in his arms.
And then Sawyer knew.
The knowledge slammed through him, but he had no time to process it. She pushed him away with a quiet dignity and lifted her chin. “Please don’t do that again,” she said cooly. “I’m sure you needed that experiment, but as I told you before, I’m not interested in a physical relationship with you.”
He allowed the retreat because he needed time to sift through this new information. “I apologize. All that talking of food and body parts spun me out of control.”
She gave a tight smile, obviously desperate to push past the awkwardness of the encounter. “Apology accepted.
This won’t work, Sawyer. I want you to beg off dinner on Sunday. It’s the only time I get to relax during the week and spend quality time with my mother. Surely you can respect that.”
“I like seeing you this way,” he murmured. “Softer, more approachable. I liked the way you helped your mom in the kitchen, and the way you gorged on dinner without a care, and the way you looked at her with such love and respect.”
His thoughts slid into the past. He had always wished for a family to love. A family to love him. It was such a mysterious concept he couldn’t understand, and watching the close relationship with Julietta and Mama Conte set off a fire of emotion and longing he rarely let escape. He remembered when he had come home from school with a black eye from a bully on the playground. When his foster father had asked who won, and he’d told the truth, he got a slap that almost knocked his teeth out. He wasn’t allowed to eat for two days, because losers deserved nothing.
What was he doing?
He wanted to seduce Julietta Conte and take her past her comfort zone. He wanted her savvy business skills to make Purity the best. He did not need to be immersed in her family or be reminded of gentler feelings he had no place or time for. They existed for her, but he knew better. They weren’t meant for him. Thinking about what he couldn’t have wouldn’t help.
He had to get out of here.
She drew back in surprise when he stood up from the chair. “you’re right, of course. I won’t bother you at dinner any longer. I’m going to say good-bye to your mother, and I’ll see you at the office tomorrow. I’ll need you to meet the other suppliers for Purity and go over some initial plans.”
“yes, yes, of course.”
“Very well.
Buona sera,
Julietta.”
He left her on the terrace and tried not to run like evil zombies were on his tail. She was right about one thing: Dinner was a mistake.
But not the kiss. Definitely not the kiss. He knew now what she needed, craved, and how to get her there. No way was he giving up the opportunity to show her what she’d been missing and initiate her into the dark world of erotic pleasures.
Sawyer tightened his lips and his resolve and went to find Mama Conte to say good-bye.