Page 15 of Captive in His Castle (The Martinelli Wedding #1)

Much as Callie was tempted to tell him to mind his own business, she knew it would be belligerence talking. Dante wasn’t shying away from answering her questions, and at least holding a conversation like this meant they were steering far from the topic she most desperately wanted to avoid.

“My parents were both well off in comparison to yours, I suppose,” she said.

“They were both doctors. They weren’t rich like you are now, not by any stretch of the imagination – I mean, there’s no way they could have afforded these jeans, not with their overheads – but we had a nice house, and they always drove new cars, and we went on holiday every year. ”

“You speak of your parents in the past tense,” he observed cautiously. “Are they still…?”

“Alive? Oh yes. I spoke of their jobs in the past tense because they’ve both retired. They were in their late forties when we were born – it took nine rounds of IVF for us to be conceived.”

Jeeze, just saying the word conceived was enough to bring fresh colour to her face, and she hastily popped a piece of pastry into her mouth. Whatever she did, she must keep any conversation between them far away from sex or anything that could possibly lead to a conversation on sex.

“They must have wanted you very much.”

She shrugged and swallowed the morsel that had melted in her mouth in much the same way her insides all seemed to melt when she was with him.

“One of my cousins went through IVF, so I know a little of what it entails,” he explained. “To put yourself through that nine times suggests you were very much wanted.”

She took a sip of her coffee and gave another shrug.

“That depends on how you define wanted . They always loved us, but they weren’t hands-on parents.

I think having children was another box to be ticked off and that the idea of children appealed more than the reality of them because when I look back on my childhood, all I remember is their absence. ”

His forehead furrowed. “You were neglected? ”

“Not at all, but they were always working because their jobs were important. They were important. They were both consultants, mum a gynaecologist, dad an oncologist, and their jobs took priority. We had au pairs and childminders and babysitters to do the actual parenting stuff, and then as soon as Georgia and I finished school, they retired and upped sticks to Provence.”

Dante digested this insight into Callie’s history.

The childhood, Dante knew, shaped the adult.

His childhood had been spent poor but happy.

For the whole of his life, he’d been loved and indulged by both his parents and adored by his sister.

Niccolo, on the other hand, had been raised in a wealthy family but with a father who’d been a bit too free and easy with his punishment beatings.

Dante suspected he’d only known about the most obvious injuries inflicted on his best friend and had cheered – internally – louder than anyone when Niccolo had finally cut that man from his life.

For all the success Niccolo had made of his life, having a father who’d beaten him and a mother who’d sat back and allowed it to happen were scars that would always be a part of him.

It was those scars that had stopped Niccolo creating a single close friendship since their childhood days.

Callie denied neglect, but it certainly sounded like emotional neglect to Dante.

“Essentially, it has always been just you and your sister, then?” he said.

He could hardly believe how good it felt to just share a meal and a conversation, especially after the way they’d parted the night before and even if she had spent most of it avoiding direct eye contact.

If he had to make a bet, his money would be on Callie’s sleep being as tortured as his own had been.

Soon, though, they would both sleep like babies together. He knew it, and Callie, if she was prepared to be honest with herself, knew it too. A sexual undercurrent flowed between them, shocking in its strength. Fighting it was as futile as fighting gravity.

“My pregnant sister, yes.”

He gave a wry smile at her unsubtle reminder of her sister’s condition. “When Niccolo learns he’s going to be a father, I guarantee he will give Georgia all the financial help and support she needs.”

The large, pale blue eyes… no, they were currently grey… locked onto his and, with a sing-song lilt to her voice, she said, “And his wife will tag along and change the nappies, and they’ll all live happily ever after.”

“I cannot imagine Siena changing a nappy, but who knows how things will unfold for them all? My only certainty is that Niccolo will support Georgia and be a father to their child.”

“He still deserves to know before he makes his vows.”

He raised his shoulders. “I agree, but I also know the consequences that will come from him knowing. Now tell me, how are your feet?”

She blinked like an owl at the swerve of conversation. “Healing nicely. I’ll have to stick to flip-flops for a few days though, so let’s hope we don’t get any rain or I’m going to get soggy feet.”

“The forecast is clear.”

“That’s good to know. Don’t suppose you know if a giant thunderstorm’s due over Accardiano on Saturday, do you?”

Grinning, he shook his head at her refusal to give in.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but temperatures of mid to late twenties are expected there for the next week – idyllic wedding weather.

” Draining his coffee, he rose to his feet.

“I have a couple of calls to make – I shall be right on the other side of the door – and then you and I are going to the winery.”

“Can’t I spend the day in here looking through the books like you said I could?”

“When we get back. There’s a potential buyer coming, and seeing as I’m here, it shows good manners for me to meet him, which means you’re coming too. I’m afraid I can’t risk leaving you alone for a moment.”

“You were happy to leave me on my own in my bed last night.”

The second the words left Callie’s tongue, she recoiled, not just at what she’d unwittingly said but the way she’d said it, like a taunt, and she had to clench her fists to stop her hands covering her treacherous mouth and the pulse she could feel throbbing manically at the base of her neck.

Why had she said that? She must be losing her mind. She’d held her side of a perfectly cordial conversation with aplomb and without giving away anything of her inner turmoil at sitting across a table from him, and then she’d ruined it all by saying that!

For the longest time, Dante said nothing, just gazed at her with a thoughtful stillness no man as tall and as well-built as he should be able to pull off.

She held her breath… had no choice but to hold it as her airwaves had closed up… while a slow smile spread over his gorgeous face. Placing his hands on the table, he leaned forward until he was close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath on her face.

His voice a seductive whisper, he said, “Did you lie in your bed hoping I’d force my way in and take the decision out of your hands? Is that what you wanted? Is that what you want ?” A wolfish, predatory smile played on his lips as he leaned even closer and grazed them over her mouth.

“Do you know what I think?” he whispered, his mouth moving over hers, filling her with the scent of his breath, a dark scent laced with sweetened coffee and moreish enough to fill her mouth with moisture.

“I think you have such a need to be in control that you’re frightened of giving yourself permission to let yourself go. ”

Hot blood pounded through her head and into her every crevice, and when his tongue lightly traced the inner contours of her lips, she was helpless to stop her tongue darting to meet it. The shock of it was electrical.

With a low groan, his mouth moulded to hers in a fusion that was a kiss without being a kiss but filled her with more heat than all the kisses she’d ever received combined and multiplied by a million.

“See, my little spitfire,” he murmured huskily into her mouth.

“It’s not sex that you hate; it’s losing control.

The men you allowed yourself to have sex with were men you were never in any danger of losing that control with, and now you want to be forced into surrendering yourself to the pleasure you know is there for the taking because you know as well as I do that the pleasure between us will be out of this world . ”

And then his lips parted against hers, his silken tongue swept into her mouth, and she was given a fleeting taste of heaven before he pulled away and strolled out of the room.

Only the uncharacteristic stiffness in his gait belied a nonchalance Callie couldn’t have matched if she’d hate the wits to try.

Callie climbed into the same four-by-four Dante had rescued her in the day before and opened the passenger window.

Virtually sticking her entire face out of it, she pressed her thighs together and tried to breathe out the spicy citrus scent that seemed to have lodged into her nostrils and tried even more valiantly to tune out the man turning the engine on.

She didn’t want to be touched that Dante was driving the short distance to the rear of the castle so she didn’t have to walk too far on feet that, despite healing nicely, still ached from her mammoth trek the day before.

Bad enough she could still feel the sweetened coffee of his mouth and that the Dante-induced weakness in her legs made it harder to walk than any pain in her feet, never mind finding herself starting to like him.

But there was something irrepressible about him that she’d liked before he’d revealed his true identity to her, and it was this good-humoured irrepressibility she was fighting herself from liking now.

That and his thoughtfulness. He was an alpha predator and an utter bastard, but, damn him, she was finding herself increasingly, irresistibly drawn to him.