Page 51 of Giorgio

He stayed at the club late, deliberately. Taking the coward’s way out was not his style, but after what happened between them last night and this morning, he had no idea what to say to her and he had been stupid and careless.

So, he stayed until he felt it was time for him to come home. She would be asleep by now… He was about to walk past her doors when something stopped him.

Standing in front of the paneled wood, he pressed a hand against it and closed his eyes. He should just continue onto his suite and leave well enough alone.

He had already compromised their relationship by sleeping with her. It would be prudent for him to make it a one-time thing. But something was nagging at him.

Pushing the doors open, he stepped through the compact sitting room and pushed the doors of the bedroom open. He came to anabrupt stop just inside the doorway. The bedside lamp was on, and she was not asleep.

As a matter of fact, she was hunched up against the pillows, holding one to her chest. Her shoulders were shaking, and her face was buried in the cotton pillowcase.

A frisson of alarm shimmered through his body as he stared at the forlorn form. He had no idea how he reached the side of the bed, but within seconds, he was there. Toeing off his shoes, he eased in next to her and without a word, lifted her slender frame, pillow and all and cradled her against his chest.

Leaning into him, she started sobbing in earnest, her fingers clutching his sweater.

He waited her out, his hands soothing her back, a concerned frown on his brow.

Murmuring words in his language, he kissed the top of her head and then her forehead as he comforted her.

“You are going to make yourself ill.” He tilted her chin up, his heart breaking at the tears staining her cheeks and clinging to her long lashes. “What’s wrong?”

“My memory, it came back.” There was a tiny catch in her voice.

“Why is that not a cause for celebration?” He wiped the tears with the pads of his thumbs and shied away from the significance of her revelation.

“My dad died.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I lost my dad.”

He kissed her forehead gently. “I am so sorry Juliana. You were very close.”

“Yes.” She gulped. “Oh Giorgio, I miss him so much.” The tears came again, and he pressed her face against his chest, allowing her to grieve. It was disconcerting that he felt this yearning to be with her. It had nothing to do with sex, he just felt that she needed him.

“Enough now, Amore Mio.” He whispered, completely unaware that he had called her his love. Tilting her chin up, he kissed the tears on one cheek and then the next, his touch gentle and soothing.

Murmuring his name, Juliana traced the outline of his strong jaw, her body shivering when he kissed the seams of her mouth.

“I hate to see you hurting.” He told her thickly. Using the tip of his tongue, he traced the outline of her full bottom lip. “I never want to see you crying. I cannot stand it. My heart breaks at the thought of you hurting.”

He was completely unaware or oblivious to the fact that he was baring his soul to this woman who had shown up in his life unexpectedly.

“Giorgio.” She breathed his name, her pain dissipating, replaced by a surge of emotion so strong and intense, she could hardly stand it. While she had been wallowing in her acute misery, he had been the one she wanted to hold her.

She had called his name repeatedly as she cried for the loss of her dad. And it was as if she had transmitted to him how much she needed him.

His tongue dipped into her mouth, starting an evocative foray into the honeyed sweetness. When she tried to deepen the kiss, he held back. His hands caressed her back and shoulders restlessly, fingers bracketing her ribcage.

He could feel the swell of her breasts through the thin material of her top, the nipples already raised and awaiting his mouth.

A groan escaped him, the desire he had tried so hard to keep secret, unravelling. He was helpless against something so strong and powerful. He had stayed away because he wanted to analyze and question what was happening between them.

But he had been unable to stay away.

Placing his hands under her armpits, he lowered her against the pillows, his mouth still clinging to hers as if unwilling to breakcontact. Somehow, he managed to pull at his sweater, briefly ending the kiss to pull it over his head and tossed it aside.

Then he was kissing her again, this time with more fervor, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that was undeniable.

Tugging her top up, he pulled her arms out of the sleeves and left her mouth long enough to tug it over her head.

Sizzling dark eyes roamed over her face, his heart spiking at the vulnerable look, the dark eyes bright with tears, the lashes spiked, and her mouth swollen and inviting. His eyes drifted to her chest, where her nipples were pebble hard.