We spent the afternoon wandering through the town, stopping to look in shops and gazing up at the stormy face of Mont Blanc.
I was still irritated beyond tolerance with his high-handed behavior, but there was nothing I could do about it; besides I was used to waiting, and I’d waited in a lot worse places.
“I wouldn’t mind coming back here in the winter,” said Sebastian, apparently oblivious to my irritation, “try out the snowboarding.”
“That’s something else I’ve never done,” I muttered, trying to imagine hurtling down the steep, icy face of the lowering mountain on a piece of wood not much bigger than a skateboard.
“I’ll teach you,” said Sebastian confidently.
“Oh, something you can teach me, Mr. Hunter?”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned at me.
I glanced at my watch. “I think we should be heading back now. I can’t get a signal on my phone here. My editor might have been trying to contact me.”
I threw him a challenging glance. Sebastian didn’t look happy, but he didn’t argue either.
We walked back to his motorcycle and I pulled on my very lovely, and very expensive new gloves.
Sebastian took the autoroute back to Geneva and we arrived in slightly under an hour. I didn’t like to ask what speed we’d been traveling at: one that exceeded the limit, I suspected.
I climbed off the bike, and handed him back my helmet. He stowed it in one of the empty saddlebags and stared down at me.
“I really enjoyed today, Sebastian. Most of it, anyway. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Caro.”
We stood gazing at each other. Without knowing why, I felt awkward, the tension rolling in waves between us.
“Okay, well, thanks again,” I murmured, turning to go.
“Can I see you tomorrow, Caro?” he said, his voice filled with intense longing. “Will you think about the Italy idea?”
I stared at him, certain the anguish was etched on my face.
His eyes darkened as he continued to stare at me.
“I want to kiss you, Caro. Very badly.”
The breath caught in my throat as he took a step towards me. I knew I wanted that, too. Very badly.
I raised my hand to his cheek and he sighed softly as he leaned into it, closing his eyes. I ran my fingers down his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin.
He took another step towards me, and rested his hands on my waist. I pulled his head towards me and felt his lips on mine. So soft, so sensuous. I could feel his breath stroke my face, then his lips parted and his tongue swept into my mouth.
My God, the feelings that burned through me, scorching away every sorrow, every moment of regret. Instead, I remembered how his hands had learned every curve and hollow of my body, how our love had melded us into one, how his body had fit inside mine.
He pressed himself into me, his mouth hungrily devouring every breath.
“God, I want you, Caro. I want to make love to you,” he whispered on my lips.
“Yes,” I said. “I want that, too.”
Chapter 4
Sebastian had to go and park his motorcycle in the hotel’s secure underground garage.
His absence gave me ample time to consider the consequences of what I was about to do. I still wasn’t sure I trusted him; I had about a minute to decide whether or not to change my mind. But, in truth, there was no decision to make. My body ached to be touched; it had been a long time, too long perhaps, since I’d allowed a man this close to me. And the way I felt when Sebastian was near me, it was as if every nerve ending was sensitized simply by his presence. I hated it and I loved it and I hated it.
I waited for him in the lobby, sitting on the same sofa where he’d sat last night during our fractured heart-to-heart. The receptionist’s curious gaze bounced off my back: I didn’t have room in my mind to consider anyone else at this point, and I cared even less what she thought of me, if she thought anything at all.