Free Bellissima by Anya Richards Page A

there was no need to be anything other than he truly was, and he was content. Why it was so, how it was achieved, didn’t concern him. The sensation was too wonderful to question, but had to be appreciated just as it was, for what it was.
    Could it endure?
    Sergio didn’t know, couldn’t guess and wasn’t ready to contemplate that. Today would be one of passion unleashed, and would hopefully sate this interminable hunger even for a little while.
    Closing the window against the autumnal air, aware his attempt to clear the studio of the paint smells had made it cold, Sergio stoked the fire and added more fuel, hoping the room would warm up before Jane arrived.
    If she arrived.
    He pushed the thought from his mind. Despite everything, somehow he knew she would come as promised. Yet that knowledge didn’t stop him pacing back and forth from the window to the door, unable to sit still. And when there were quiet footsteps in the uncarpeted hall and a soft tap on the door, there was no mistaking his raw rush of emotion as anything but relief.
    Striding across the room, he flung open the door to reveal Jane, bundled in a blue wool cloak and peeking up at him from beneath the brim of a simple, demure hat. It struck him that the expression in her eyes was almost shy, the slight smile on her lips seemed hesitant, and he wondered if already she rued the impulses that had brought her to him.
    Wordlessly, he held out his hand, and his heart leapt as hers immediately rose to settle on it. With the slightest tug, he urged her inside, closed and locked the door behind her.
    She unwrapped the cloak from around herself, and Sergio eased it off her shoulders, turning to hang it on the nearby coat tree. When he turned back toward her, she was unpinning her hat. This too he took from her and put aside, still without a word passing between them. The tip of her nose and apples of her cheeks were pink from the cold. A surge of protectiveness and concern had him guide her to a chair near the small coal fire.
    “Sit here, cara .” As she subsided into the seat, Sergio went to stir the coals, wanting to make sure she was warm enough. “How cold it has suddenly turned.”
    “Yes,” she replied, in that calm, steady voice he so adored. “Winter is soon upon us.”
    Putting the poker on its stand, Sergio felt an icy trickle down his spine, for her words seemed somehow prescient—a harbinger not just for the changing of the seasons but also of their association. When he looked at her, found her gaze focused on her hands as she removed her woolen gloves, the feeling grew stronger.
    For a moment, he stayed where he was, frozen, insidious fear raking his belly, making his heart race. When considering this afternoon, imagining what would occur, his thoughts had been consumed with carnality. He had pictured himself unwrapping her, finally gazing on her unclothed body, touching, kissing and caressing her, bringing her as much pleasure as he could. Now, seeing her downturned gaze, the unusual jerkiness of her movements as she tugged her gloves off, those thoughts faded, overwhelmed by the need to know what she was thinking, feeling.
    On slightly unsteady legs, he stepped closer to her and sank down onto the ottoman next to her chair.
    “Tell me,” he demanded, not reaching for her, not daring to touch her until he heard whatever it was she had to say. He braced himself, suddenly aware that no matter what objections she may espouse to their being together he would fight to overcome them. “Do not be afraid. Just tell me.”
    Jane raised her gaze to his. It was steady, but her gray eyes were clouded, unsure, and her fingers seemed unable to stop twisting the gloves back and forth.
    “What are we doing, Sergio?” Beneath the calm words lay a wealth of emotion, not fully suppressed. “What is this madness?”
    Love.
    The word came into his head instinctively, but the fear in her eyes stilled his tongue before it could be uttered. Everything he knew of