Free Coercion to Love by Michelle Reid Page B

loss. A strange emotion began to stir inside Cass, the merest flicker of something alien to her budding into life and holding her attention focused on it in an attempt to identify just what it was. Then he moved, his dark head coming slowly down-wards until his mouth met the full, soft quiver of her lips. It was nothing like the attack he had laid on her earlier. In fact, it was not like a kiss at all in the real physical sense but more a spiritual search for something they had instinctively recognised in each other. She stood passive in his arms, her face turned up to the kiss.
    'Cassandra,' he murmured, 'can we try to be friends?'
    'Friends.' That's what this is, she thought as his mouth came back on to her own again, a gesture of friendship between us, nothing more.
    His lips began to move on hers, gentle, searching, as light as gossamer, and as beautiful as life itself. 'I'm sorry,' she heard him say, and wondered hazily what he was apologising for.
    His hands still curved her shoulders, gently moulding the sun-kissed warmth of her skin left exposed by the thin-strapped style of her dress, fingertips lightly caressing until they met with the silken fall of her hair, where they closed, tangling themselves into the thick bright mass of fire, to tug, ever so gently, until her throat was arched and her mouth was fully presented to his. Her hands slid up to grasp his waist. His skin felt hot to the touch beneath a covering of fine white linen. She sighed softly, and so did he.
    'You taste of roses.' Again, the remark was made within the boundaries of the passive embrace. No hint of threat, no sexual implication. Cass closed her eyes, and allowed a growing flood of warmth to permeate her senses.
    She must have trembled because he muttered something in Italian, and drew her closer to him, fitting her into the muscled contours of his body, drawing the breath from her on a shaky sigh which parted her mouth and allowed the moist tip of his tongue to explore the trembling opening.
    She felt the intimacy of that caress like a lick of fire, and suddenly she was clinging to him for dear life, as sensation, the like of which she had never known before, began to shimmer through her. He pressed her closer, drag her to the long, hard length of his hot-skinned legs and all at once the passivity fled, chased away in hot tide of pleasure which thoroughly shook them both.
    'Dio’ Carlo dragged his mouth away from hers. 'Dio, forgive me, I did not mean to-----!'
    He jerked right away from her, breaking all body contact so that Cass stood there dazed and swaying, watching him through a haze of shocked sensuality, flinging himself to the centre of the room. 'Damn,' he muttered, then, 'Damn,' again. She closed her pulsing mouth, her tongue flicking out  to collect the moisture left there by his caressing tongue, and she heard his muffled choke as he spun his back to her.
    Then silence fell on the darkened room, consuming e air until it was almost impossible to breathe in it. 'Are you all right?' he asked after a while.
    'Yes,' she breathed, feeling no more 'all right' than it sounded. It had shaken them both, that strange kiss which had felt as if their spirits had touched briefly. Will you think over what we have discussed?'
    'Yes,' she breathed again, unable to conjure up another single solitary word.
    'Then go now, and find Teresa. My mother will have taken her to your suite by now. It is time for her bed, I should think.'
    ‘Yes-----' It started to slur thickly from her tongue, but she managed to drag it back this time, watching rough the crazy daze as he moved stiffly back behind be desk and abruptly sat down.
    ‘Cassandra..." he sighed, and her name slid from his like a caress, taking what little air she had left trapping it in her lungs '... please leave here before I make a complete mess of everything and kiss you again—for real this time...'
    'Oh!' The mere fact that she was just standing there staring at him like a love-dazed idiot