Read Under the Italian's Command for Free Online Page B
Authors: Susan Stephens
admit that her fashion sense still left everything to be desired.
But, of course, he had to forget this moment of weakness and remember their relative positions in life. He was dominant, while she was…
No.
No!
She was not spread-eagled on his bed!
She was his young student, and the development of her career devolved on him. She was inexperienced and innocent, and it was up to him to defend her. And didn’t he excel in defending the innocent?
He curbed his smile, confining himself to a grave nod of approval as she glanced at him in triumph before sitting down to a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. She had been so charming, so endearing when she stumbled over her little speech, everyone had loved her for it. Even the seniors had forgotten to heckle, and the dreadful gown had been overlooked. As her pupil master, restraint was the only sensible option to him, but unfortunately that had no effect on his libido. Lucky for him he was about to be removed from temptation. The courts were about to close for the Christmas recess and when they did he would work off his excess energy on the ski slopes.
With his conscience set at ease, Lorenzo turned his attention to the man seated next to him, and was soon involved in the sort of work-based discussion lawyers thrived on. But try as he might he couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering back to Carly . He wanted her so badly his balls ached.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE HAD RETURNED HOME in triumph to this? Cramming a pillow over her head, Carly tried not to hear the noises coming from the next room. Her flatmate appeared to be indulging in some sort of technically advanced sex moves, which required the bed to bang against the wall in one rhythm while Louisa cried out in another. The result was a complex syncopation of which Stravinsky would have been proud.
Didn’t anyone sleep these days?
Was everyone in London, except for her, having sex?
Swinging out of bed, Carly squinted at the clock and saw that it was one o’clock in the morning. Great. Shuffling out of the room in her dinosaur-claw slippers, she fumbled for the light switch and turned it on.
‘Hello, Carly …’
‘Lorenzo! What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Nice to see you too…’ Sliding the silk scarf off his neck, he looked her up and down, bestowing sensation upon each one of her erogenous zones in turn.
Her cheeks fired automatically. Knuckling her eyes she tried to convince herself that this could only be a very bad dream.
‘Well?’ he said when she stood in his way. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘You are in,’ she pointed out.
Shrugging off his coat, Lorenzo handed it to her with the scarf. She was wearing a paper-thin nightshirt that covered nothing. Tugging hard on the hem in an attempt to cover her bottom, she exposed a breast.
Lorenzo watched without comment, and then his gaze tracked down to study her dinosaur-claw slippers.
Turning on her heel, she hung up his coat. What was she doing waiting on him? She could only excuse herself by pleading the lateness of the hour and her exhaustion after the ordeal of the Grand Court.
He had telephoned every hotel in London when his new flat flooded. Not a chance of a bed in town with Christmas looming, he’d been told. He had tried absolutely every option until bunking down in the spare room of a flat owned by an old school chum became the only option. The repairs to his own apartment would be completed within the next couple of days, but until then, this was it…
As Carly stared at him in disbelief, he asked himself if a park bench have been a better option? Did he want to take up residence with his pupil? Did he want to have temptation thrust in his face? Did he want to smell her warm, fresh, sleepy smell and see her hair in wild disarray? Her face was attractively sleep crumpled and she was half-naked…
‘What are you doing
But, of course, he had to forget this moment of weakness and remember their relative positions in life. He was dominant, while she was…
No.
No!
She was not spread-eagled on his bed!
She was his young student, and the development of her career devolved on him. She was inexperienced and innocent, and it was up to him to defend her. And didn’t he excel in defending the innocent?
He curbed his smile, confining himself to a grave nod of approval as she glanced at him in triumph before sitting down to a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. She had been so charming, so endearing when she stumbled over her little speech, everyone had loved her for it. Even the seniors had forgotten to heckle, and the dreadful gown had been overlooked. As her pupil master, restraint was the only sensible option to him, but unfortunately that had no effect on his libido. Lucky for him he was about to be removed from temptation. The courts were about to close for the Christmas recess and when they did he would work off his excess energy on the ski slopes.
With his conscience set at ease, Lorenzo turned his attention to the man seated next to him, and was soon involved in the sort of work-based discussion lawyers thrived on. But try as he might he couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering back to Carly . He wanted her so badly his balls ached.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE HAD RETURNED HOME in triumph to this? Cramming a pillow over her head, Carly tried not to hear the noises coming from the next room. Her flatmate appeared to be indulging in some sort of technically advanced sex moves, which required the bed to bang against the wall in one rhythm while Louisa cried out in another. The result was a complex syncopation of which Stravinsky would have been proud.
Didn’t anyone sleep these days?
Was everyone in London, except for her, having sex?
Swinging out of bed, Carly squinted at the clock and saw that it was one o’clock in the morning. Great. Shuffling out of the room in her dinosaur-claw slippers, she fumbled for the light switch and turned it on.
‘Hello, Carly …’
‘Lorenzo! What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Nice to see you too…’ Sliding the silk scarf off his neck, he looked her up and down, bestowing sensation upon each one of her erogenous zones in turn.
Her cheeks fired automatically. Knuckling her eyes she tried to convince herself that this could only be a very bad dream.
‘Well?’ he said when she stood in his way. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘You are in,’ she pointed out.
Shrugging off his coat, Lorenzo handed it to her with the scarf. She was wearing a paper-thin nightshirt that covered nothing. Tugging hard on the hem in an attempt to cover her bottom, she exposed a breast.
Lorenzo watched without comment, and then his gaze tracked down to study her dinosaur-claw slippers.
Turning on her heel, she hung up his coat. What was she doing waiting on him? She could only excuse herself by pleading the lateness of the hour and her exhaustion after the ordeal of the Grand Court.
He had telephoned every hotel in London when his new flat flooded. Not a chance of a bed in town with Christmas looming, he’d been told. He had tried absolutely every option until bunking down in the spare room of a flat owned by an old school chum became the only option. The repairs to his own apartment would be completed within the next couple of days, but until then, this was it…
As Carly stared at him in disbelief, he asked himself if a park bench have been a better option? Did he want to take up residence with his pupil? Did he want to have temptation thrust in his face? Did he want to smell her warm, fresh, sleepy smell and see her hair in wild disarray? Her face was attractively sleep crumpled and she was half-naked…
‘What are you doing
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