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demand anything else of her and she found herself relaxing into his embrace, resting her head on his chest.
    "You smell of lavender,” he said. He brushed her hair back just as his mouth grazed the oh-so-very sensitive skin behind her ear and Carly's heart skipped a beat.
    "Intoxicating, just like the scent of the Tuscan hills. Fragrant and enticing and so very desirable."
    He let out a deep groan and pulled her onto his lap. His very aroused state was obvious through his jeans.
    Marco Valente was definitely not calm, but then, Carly couldn't admit to any vestige of calm either.
    "Believe me, Carly. You are woman enough for any man."
    Carly wanted to believe him. “Most men want model types."
    "You mean stick insects with no curves and nothing to hold onto. No, cara , a man wants to hold his woman, to touch her, feel her."
    Oh, heaven. Why did he say those things? Her insides were melting.
    "And when he makes love to her, he wishes to imprint his claim on her. You have the curves of the goddess Aphrodite."
    Carly chuckled at the comparison. “Aphrodite. I'm not sure that's a compliment."
    "Why not?"
    "Aphrodite may have been the goddess of love, but it's said her meddling caused misery among the armies during the Trojan War. She was meant to be all sweetness and love, but her adventures triggered bloodshed. I'd hate to cause such havoc."
    "Women always cause havoc, cara . They are temptation incarnate."
    Carly's breath hung in her throat. She knew she played with fire, but couldn't resist. “Is that how you see me?” she challenged.
    You'll get burned.
    Although knowing it was true, Carly still felt helpless to resist. She couldn't pull away now, and instead watched the play of expressions on Marco's face. He was a fusion of mystery and sensuality. One minute somber and serious, the next he laughed and teased, causing her body to lurch into a heated spin of aching need.
    When he spoke, his voice was a soft whisper, firing her heated senses even more.
    Blast it. She should have left well alone.
    "I see a woman whose friends thought she needed time out. Time to unwind and play. Friends who loved her enough to trick her."
    "Yeah, the joke was on me,” Carly grimaced.
    "No, not a joke cara mia .” Marco's fingers twined through her hair and the soft pad of his thumb grazed over the skin behind her ear. The hairs on her neck rose and her senses skittered into high alert.
    "Your friends care. Isn't this all we ask in life? That we have people around us that care."
    Marco's gentle words of wisdom set Carly off and she could no longer stem the tide of tears. He eased her back and looked into her tear-laden eyes, a frown etched across his brow and his gaze narrowed as he wiped them away.
    "You cry because...?"
    "Because someone cared,” she whispered. And it was wonderful. But that small truth she kept to herself.
    Suddenly Marco stood and she slid down the length of him, thigh-to-thigh, hip to hip, his solid chest grazing against her already sensitive nipples, making the tender buds ache for more. She placed her hand in his and a tingling heat scorched her fingertips. Carly gasped. This was liquid sex at a single touch—while fully clothed. She couldn't move. Didn't want to, and when Marco's intense gaze traveled from her face, lingering on the gentle rise and fall of her breasts, she swayed toward him, back arching. His searching gaze took a possessive hold on her she couldn't break. Aware of the captive thread of desire between them, a rapid heat skittered its way up her neck, scorching her cheeks in a flood of color.
    "That pink tinge again,” he teased, pulling her to him.
    Carly tried to smile, but failed. Pink, it felt like a raging inferno. Her whole body was on fire.
    Heaven, she sighed.
    "What say we use these four days for you to play hooky?"
    "Play hooky?"
    "Yeah, you know, like playing hooky from school. Your friends want you to have a break."
    "But they're not here."
    "I am."
    Carly's breath froze in her throat.