Free The Good Daughter by Diana Layne Page A

“Haven’t you been able to sleep?”
    She felt him studying her. In the dark, she couldn’t clearly make out his features, but she felt his intense look, his warm breath stirring the air between them.
    “ No. Sleep does not come to me tonight.”
    She wanted to ask him if he couldn’t sleep because he was thinking of her, but to her shame, just the thought made her tremble. Coward, she scolded herself. He’s years older and totally experienced. The last thing he wants is a nervous virgin.
    His hand slid from her shoulder, up her neck to cup her face. “You are shaking. Because the dream frightened you?”
    No, not the dream. Her feelings for him. “It was very bad,” she agreed, while wondering if she should rub against his hand, which felt so nice and strong against her cheek.
    “ Vieni qua . Come. Tell me. I will hold you.” He took her hand and led her to the gray-and-blue plaid sofa, gently illuminated by a lamp turned on dim. He sat on the hide-away mattress, and gently tugged her down beside him, not giving her a chance to resist.
    Nestled in his arms, her cheek pressed against his warm bare chest, she felt safe and secure. The dream seemed less frightening in the telling especially when he kept rubbing her back and dropping soft kisses atop her head as she spoke. She was having more trouble by the minute remembering terror pulled her from sleep.
    “ Someone shot you? This is very bad.”
    His whisper-soft kiss brushed her hair. Beneath her cheek, his heart beat strong and steady while hers was bouncing all over the place. “Just a dream though.”
    “ But still enough to frighten.”
    His warm, masculine scent filled her nostrils. “Yes, it was scary.” She finally looked at him. “But I’m not afraid now.”
    Their gazes locked; the moment dragged out between them. She became aware of the bulge in his fitted boxers growing larger, harder. Unable to stop herself, she glanced down. Oh, wow . When she looked back at him, she saw him swallow. Hard.
    “ It is time for you to go back to bed,” he said, his voice tight with strain.
    A surprising thought practically knocked her upside the head. “Come to my room with me,” she blurted before she chickened out.
    He stared at her, the moment stretching to infinity, before he finally said, “This is bad idea. Is better we watch television instead.”
    She was inexperienced, true, but surely she hadn’t misread him that badly. “You don’t want . . . ? ”
    “ Si, I very much want . You need your sleep.”
    “ I’ve heard sex makes you sleep better.” God, where did that come from?
    “ Is true then, you are innocente like Beppe says.” He said it as a statement, not a question.
    “ Beppe said that?” she gasped. Heat rose up her neck. “How could he?”
    Sandro chuckled. “Because he knows the way a man’s mind thinks.”
    Beppe and sex. That was not an image she wanted to consider.
    “ Is true?” he repeated.
    “ Does it make a difference?”
    “ Do you never answer a question?”
    “ Why should I answer if it doesn’t make a difference. Does it?” She held her breath as he stared at her.
    “ No,” he answered at last. “ Innocente or not, is best we watch the television.”
    She sighed. “It figures I’d fall for a lady’s man with scruples.”
    He chuckled again. She settled back against him while he punched on the remote, lowered the volume, and flipped channels on the wall-mounted flat screen television, one of the first she’d seen at the time.
    “ Stop,” she said. “I like this movie.” It was The Bodyguard , one of her mom’s favorite movies, and Kevin Costner had workmen ripping up Whitney Houston’s estate, installing security measures. She explained the movie to that point, well aware of what would happen later. Hoping the growing attraction between Whitney and Kevin might persuade Sandro to change his mind. Nia never realized she was so devious.
    When as a prelude to their love scene Kevin let Whitney’s scarf