Page 35 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

If only she’d agree. He just didn’t know what else he could do to persuade her they were right for each other. And he suspected she was still acting to some extent, and he had yet to see the real woman.

The idea that had been nagging at him came to the forefront. Time to try something different. The following week, she had two days off from performing.

“Come to Sicily with me next week.”

Gabby glanced sideways at him and raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because it’s beautiful in the summer, and we were happy there.”

She cocked her head. “Were we?”

“I was.” Though, even as he said the words, he acknowledged that they weren’t entirely true. Maybe content, but not really happy. He’d come closer to that with Gabby in the last couple of weeks than with Gabrielle. The thought made him a little uneasy, but he shrugged it away. Long term, he didn’t want wild mood swings like he got with Gabby; he wanted the cool calmness of his parent’s marriage. A woman who would remind him of the person he strived to be. “Just come for a break. I’m not asking for anything else.”

She nibbled on her lower lip, and he held his breath. “Okay.”

He’d take her back to where it had all started. And somehow he’d find his Gabrielle, and she would finally accept he loved her and be happy with who she was.

And so would he.

Chapter Nine

A week later, Vito sat on the beach on Sicily. His knees were drawn up to hide the fact that he had a raging hard-on as he watched Gabby stride toward him in a tiny, bright-pink bikini that bared most of her body. His gaze was fixed on the glint of the ruby at her navel and the tattoo that ran down her right thigh. Hard to believe this exotic creature and his Gabrielle were one in the same.

In fact, Sicily had changed nothing, except that spending so much time together and not giving in to desire was tying him in ever-tighter knots. After two days, the sexual tension between them was a tangible thing. In her presence he was in an almost constant state of arousal, which was extremely uncomfortable and potentially very embarrassing. He hadn’t jerked off so much since he’d been a teenager.

When they’d made the agreement to abstain, she’d said sex muddled his brain, but maybe by denying themselves they were building it up into something out of all proportion.

Perhaps what they really needed was to screw their brains out and get it out of their systems, and then he could maybe think straight. They flew back tomorrow. Perhaps tonight…

She halted in front of him and reached down to hand him one of the ice creams she’d fetched from the cool box sitting in the shade of the rocky outcrop behind them. The action gave him a stunning view of her cleavage, and the tension rose a little bit higher.

They were on a private beach only accessible from the sea. He’d moored the yacht offshore and brought them here in the small dingy.

She sank down onto the towel beside him.

Gabby blossomed in the hot sun, more beautiful than ever.

She had a voracious appetite for everything. Soaking up the sun, swimming in the sea, eating…

He shifted now so he could watch her as she ate the ice cream. Her eyes caught his as she swirled her tongue in the cream and then slowly licked it. Blood drained to his groin and heat coiled in his gut, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was doing it on purpose, a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Don’t you want yours?” she asked, nodding at the ice cream in his hand, which was rapidly melting and dripping onto his fingers.

He shook his head. There was only one thing he wanted right now—to be buried deep inside her.

She was nibbling the cone and then licking her fingers. “Delicious,” she said. Slowly she leaned toward him and started eating his ice cream, her tongue catching his skin and sending jolts shooting along his nerves, to settle in his cock.

He closed his eyes for a moment and felt again the flutter of her tongue against his fingers, heat through the cold. Opening his eyes as she finished, he saw she was still leaning close, her breasts almost bared in the miniscule bikini, her nipples pushing against the material. With a groan, he gave in to the inevitable, wrapped his hands around her shoulders, and hauled her against him. His mouth came down on hers. Her lips were cold and sweet from the ice cream, and they parted for him as his tongue thrust inside. For a moment, she went still, but then she kissed him back, her hands tangling in his hair, holding him to her.

He shifted her, lifting her slightly and then lowering her to the towel beneath him, coming down over her, kissing her again until he ran out of oxygen and he had to come up for air.

His dick was so hard it was almost painful and he ground it against the softness of her stomach. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything as he slipped his hand to the back of her neck and tugged loose the bow that held up her bikini top. He peeled the material from her breasts and looked his fill. She was flawless—the skin slightly paler where she’d been protected from the sun, the nipples pink and tight, and he lowered his head and took one in his mouth, sucking and licking as her back arched off the towel and she thrust against him. And his cock got even harder.

He slid one hand down over her stomach, aiming for the bikini bottoms, but before he got there, she placed a hand over his to stop the movement.

He glanced at her face, but could read nothing from her expression. “Let’s go back to the yacht,” he said. “Go to bed.”

He could see the emotions warring in her mind. She wanted him, there was no doubt about that, but she was fighting it.

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