Free The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession Book 4) by Lucy Leroux Page B

her cheeks, she looked like they’d just finished making love. He glanced at his watch. It had only been a few hours since the fourth, and final, round.
    Gio laid his head back on the pillow and grinned. Last night had been the most passionate and carnal experience of his life.
    Images filtered through his head. He’d wasted no time trying to fulfill every fantasy he’d had of Sophia since the foundation dinner. However, she became shy once they were back in her room. He’d had to start over. Not that he minded. Seducing her slowly was exactly what he’d wanted from the start—he needed to savor her after the quick, but mind-blowing, encounter outside the club.
    Sophia had blushed pink as he stripped that black silk dress from her glorious body. That color had deepened into a fiery red as he did what he’d been dying to do since he had first seen her. He kissed every inch of her, suckling her breasts and clutching handfuls of her luscious ass as he rode her. Moments passed before she tensed all over and climaxed with a sob.
    It was crazy. None of his old insecurities had surfaced, no malicious words had echoed in his head. His sole focus had been on Sophia, and her pleasure. Everything had fallen into place. It had been both natural and so fucking intense, like being on some sort of mind-altering drug.
    Instinctively, he knew his life had changed forever. Now, he needed to convince Sophia that hers had too.
    Merda .
    His breath caught, and he sank deeper into the bed. She still thought he was someone else. He had lied to her, and then bedded her under false pretenses.
    He’d sworn to tell her the truth before it got that far, but kept putting it off. Getting to know her, talking to her, making her laugh, had become his priority. Most of the time he’d been able to pretend and push the guilt out of his mind, telling himself he was waiting for the right time.
    Unfortunately, he wasn't sure when that was going to be. The situation in the press had grown steadily worse in the past week. Enzo had kept him updated about the latest slurs. One tabloid rag had quoted an anonymous source, a former trusted friend of his, that claimed Gio had not only emotionally abused his ex-wife, but he’d pimped her out to his friends and acquaintances.
    He didn’t have to guess who the “friend” was. After all, he had caught Maria Gianna with Vincenzo Gavazzi himself. Enzo was verifying the source’s identity before Gio committed to a course of action. And that needed to be soon. It was only a matter of time before Sophia found out on her own. His picture was plastered on newsstands right now, for crying out loud.
    He’d been lucky so far. Sophia wasn’t the kind of person who looked at tabloids, even if they were right under her nose. But his luck would only hold out for so long. It was only that it had been so easy to pretend. Far easier than he would have ever imagined. As long as he didn’t wear a suit and avoided the financial district, he was relatively anonymous. A pair of mirrored sunglasses and his own countrymen—including the paparazzi—didn’t recognize him.
    It was disconcerting in a way, being able to step away from his life like he had. Gio didn’t enjoy being famous, but as the son of one of Italy’s oldest and wealthiest families, notoriety had always been a part of his existence. These past days with Sophia had been a learning experience, in more ways than one.
    At least he’d started laying the groundwork. He had admitted that he worked at a bank. She just didn’t know that he was the head of it. Or that it wasn’t a sideline. What was she going to say when he finally told her the whole truth?
    She was going to be angry. There was no doubt about it. Any reasonable person would be furious. A flash of Sophia’s face, losing her sunny smile, growing colder and staring at him in distaste ran through his head. And that was the best-case scenario.
    Could the fiery Latin temper be a stereotype? He could only