Chapter Ten

The Dragon. Chase suppressed a grin. The nickname should make her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help that it made Drago all the more intriguing to her.

She watched him from her spot next to Nonna on the sofa. Yet another side of him revealed. This evening had already been full of surprises. Her heart tugged at the way he cared for his grandmother. She was the real treasure of Ferrara.

His mouth pulled into an easy smile as he listened to Nonna’s story. His lips were perfect, not too thin, not too big, but wide and strong and warm. From the day she’d kissed him, his taste had lingered, turning into a craving.

How could it not? Beyond his tall-dark-and-sexy, he’d swept her off her feet by encouraging the people of Ferrara to embrace her, assisting her with translations, and ensuring the cooperation of her staff. Appreciation pushed her to be near him. That and the way he looked at Nonna; it was nothing short of reverence. And nothing impressed Chase more than a man who respected the older generations.

Why did seeing Drago with his grandmother make him so damn sexy? She must be losing her mind. A quick call to Addi would put things in perspective. Her best friend was a great sounding board. She’d sort through it with her, or at the very least would encourage Chase wholeheartedly to go ahead and have sex with the man to get over the intrigue.

The reality rarely equaled the fantasy.

Chase couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips.

“It’s good to see you happy, cara,” Nonna said, her voice getting a low, sleepy sound to it.

Mortified, Chase shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was daydreaming.”

Drago’s deep voice entered her consciousness like a caress. “I hope it was a good one.”

She met his gaze. Heat flushed through her cheeks to her hairline, and she waved a hand in front of her face. “Whew. I think the wine is getting to me.”

“The wine, you say?” he teased. Pushing up from the chair, he stood and offered a hand. “Come. Nonna needs to rest.” He tilted his head toward the couch. “I think she’s off to dreamland herself.”

Chase glanced over to find Nonna resting in the corner of the sofa, her head tipped to the side. “Oh, she’s the sweetest woman.” Something warmed her at the inn. Something warmed her when she was with Drago and Nonna. From the moment she’d set foot into the ambience of the lobby with its dark woods and family photographs, the feeling of being held had never left her. She loved the open crispness of Huntington House, but the pull of home was strong in Casa di Nonna.

On an inhale, she shook her head. Wow. The wine really was getting to her.

Accepting Drago’s hand, she glanced back at Nonna and whispered, “We can’t leave her here.”

“She’ll be fine. She’ll nap for a few minutes, then wake up with a second wind. Besides, this is her home. She’s been known to rest anywhere. When I was a kid, we’d tiptoe around her midday nap only to be rewarded with cake before dinner.”

Chase grinned. “And why do I love that so much?”

He shared a knowing smile. “Because it’s Nonna.”

They walked along the quiet, foggy streets of Ferrara. Though her instincts had told her initially not to trust Drago, he’d proved himself to be irreplaceable. A deep warmth and, admittedly, a little too much wine filled her heart to overflowing. She threw caution to the wind, determined to make the night extend past lovely and into perfection.

As they walked up to the hotel lobby doors, she turned to him. “Come up with me.”

His fingers flexed in hers. “Up?”

“To my room.”

If anything would ever convince her his nickname was true, it would be the look that flashed into his eyes: intense, possessive, and a little scary. She shivered as his gaze roamed over her face. He trailed his fingers up her arm and across the bare skin above her breasts. They lingered along the pulse at her neck, then he lowered his lips there. “I thought you’d never ask.” His hot breath sent shivers down her spine. “I’m starving.”

In short time, Chase slammed her suite door closed, then grabbed the lapels of Drago’s shirt. On a heady giggle, she pressed her lips and her body against his. He was hot and hard and felt oh so right.

Without warning, she found herself against the door. He shoved his hands through her hair, grabbing her head in a firm grip that left her legs shaking beneath her. He angled his head, his lips hot and his tongue insistent.

She kissed him back, matching his intensity. She yanked up the hem of her dress, then wrapped her arms around his neck and circled his hips with her legs. He pressed into her harder, and she moaned into his mouth.

“Che figa.” His voice was deep and hoarse, sending her stomach into a slow, languorous roll.

“Kiss me harder.”

He yanked her back from the door, and walking with her wrapped around him, found his way to her bed. “My pleasure.”

“And mine. Thank God.” She grabbed at his tie, then followed with his buttons. All the while, he found the little hidden side zipper of her dress and pulled it down her body until the garment ended up on the floor at the foot of the bed. “I have a secret,” she whispered.

He shoved his pants and briefs down past his knees, then kicked them off. “Tell me.”

She had to untie her tongue first. She’d seen beautiful men, but Drago had the finest architecture she’d ever come across. His shoulders were massive, and his wide chest met with thickly muscled abs. Her eyes trailed lower, and she found it hard to swallow.

“Hard” being the operative word here. Sweet Jesus.

Licking her lips, she watched his body tighten further and whispered, “I’ve had plans for you since the day I saw you lounging against the streetlamp in front of the hotel.”

Her confession released something wild in him. His dark eyes narrowed and his fingers flexed, then he was covering her from head to toe. His weight was delicious, and his heat only increased her craving. “You were checking out my shoes.”

He took her mouth again, sweeping his tongue inside, sucking on her lower lip. Holding his weight partially on one arm, he ran his other large hand the length of her torso, then up and over her stomach until he gently cupped her breast. She had enough to fill his hand, and nothing had ever felt so damn good.

Her fingers found their way through his hair, then down his cheeks to his sharp jaw. His stubble tickled the pads of her fingertips and set off her senses further. Everything burned. Her lungs, her skin, her need. She spread her legs, encouraging him to settle between them. She wanted to feel him against her. There.

He pressed kisses against her mouth, then over her jaw, and said in a harsh whisper, “You’ve had plans? My plans would scare you straight back to America.”

That got her attention. She loved a challenge. “Wanna bet, love?”

Shoving up with all of her strength, she pushed him over, following with her body. He landed on his back with her straddling his hips. His length was hot and hard between her legs, and she slid up, then back down. Reaching behind her, she lightly grazed her nails over his sensitive balls.

He opened his mouth, but she leaned forward and kissed him before he could speak. She ran her palms over his chest, stopping to circle the tight Tic-Tac nubs of his nipples. He growled low in his throat, and she did it again.

“You’re playing with fire, Chase.”

The response of his body empowered her, and she lowered her mouth for a taste. Exploring every inch of taut, tanned skin, she memorized him with her lips. He throbbed between her legs, making her want to go fast. But then he gripped her ass, digging his fingers deep, and the pleasure-pain of it all drove her crazy, making her want to linger.

She found her way back to his mouth, tasting the deep berry of the evening’s wine on his tongue.

He reared up against her with a growl. “Chase.”

Rubbing back and forth, she grinned. She rather enjoyed seeing the Dragon squirm beneath her. A fire lit deep within her to torture him further. She pressed down hard against him.

“I warned you,” he said. Three little words found Chase on her back with Drago squarely between her legs.

“Wait.” Her tone was breathless but demanding.

His eyes narrowed.

Reaching toward the nightstand, she pulled open the drawer, grabbed a cellophane packet, then ripped it open with her teeth. He leaned back, leaving himself bared to her, and her stomach full-on flipped at the sight. She wrapped one hand around the base of him and slowly rolled the condom down his length.

He leaned forward and took her mouth as he slid into her a fraction of an inch. He throbbed against her sensitive skin. “God,” she said against his mouth.

“You mean Drago.”

“More.” She pushed at him to go deeper, but he resisted.

“Say it now.”

The hoarse demand increased her urgency to feel more of him, leaving her to all but beg. “Drago.” She sucked his lower lip into her mouth, then ran her tongue along it. “Now, Drago. Don’t make me wait.”

He pushed into her a fraction deeper. “Like that?” His breath came out in harsh pants of reined-in control.

She shook her head, digging her heels into his ass, trying to take what she wanted. “Drago!”

With a low moan, he swept his tongue into her mouth, then plunged to the hilt.

Her vision went white, pleasure rolling out from her center. “Yes, goddammit. Yes.”

With her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she pulled at him to continue the rhythm he’d set. His body was unyielding, his demands unreasonable, and she wanted to push and pull against him, make him go faster, harder, to never stop.

His hands found all of her secret places, the places only she knew after years of exploration. The pads of his fingertips were light when they needed to be light, and firm when they needed to be firm. His tongue drove every nerve ending to exploding. And as her body hummed, ready to break over the edge of pleasure, she held on tighter.

Biting into his shoulder, she muffled her scream of release, overwhelmed by his scent and taste and feel. He increased his pace, harder and faster, until he, too, cleared the edge and joined her. Gasping for air, they stared at each other in silence.

Drago dropped his forehead to hers and demanded, “What was that?”

She had no idea. She was by no means a shy woman when it came to men, but never in all of her encounters had she experienced anything quite like they had together. His body seemed to know hers as if he’d sculpted her himself.

“I, uhhhh…” The shocked quality of her whisper stilled her tongue. She couldn’t process yet, and saying anything now would be a big mistake. “Thank you.”

His laugh echoed off the walls around them as he shifted to her side. She looked at him through the dim light let in from the bathroom. Something passed over his face as he returned her gaze. She couldn’t place it, and honestly didn’t think Drago was the kind of guy she really wanted to figure out anyway.

“Thank you,” he returned.

She wet her lower lip with her tongue as she roamed her eyes over his large body next to her. “Why are you so big, love?”

A choked sound erupted from his chest, and he covered his mouth with a fist. “Excuse me?”

She slapped at his shoulder with a giggle. “You know what I mean, though you’ll get no complaints from me. But you are very tall compared to the rest of Ferrara.”

His fingertips burned a trail along her side from beneath her breast to her hip as he spoke. “My grandmother’s family immigrated to Italy after World War II. That whole side of the family is over six feet tall. A long line of Dutch Italians ran Casa di Nonna. It’s too bad it might come to an end.” His expression changed suddenly, and he sat up.

“Come to an end? That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it? I know things might be tight, but—”

“I need to go.” Drago ran his hands over his face.

The room turned cold. “What’s wrong?”

He patted her hip as he dropped his feet to the floor. “No, nothing. I’m sorry. I just realized the time, and I have a red-eye meeting.”

She didn’t believe him for one minute, and all the warm appreciation she’d felt chilled with the arrival of suspicion. “A red-eye meeting?”

He took care of business, then pulled on his pants, followed by his shirt. Slipping his feet into his shoes, he grabbed his socks and briefs, shoving them into an empty pocket, then stopped to look at her. She sat up, holding the sheet over her breasts.

Glancing down, he scowled. “Now that is a shame.”

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “I suddenly feel a chill in the air.”

With a wince, he stepped around the bed and kissed her soundly. “No, don’t. I’m sorry. Call me tomorrow so we can set up the rest of our week.” He hesitated, looking at her with an intense gaze that brought back all the heat they’d shared, and she lowered the sheet.

He sucked in a breath, flexing his free hand at his side. “Buona notte, bella.”

He slipped out the door of her suite and it closed with a soft whisk. Falling back against her pillows, she stared at the ceiling.

Now what the hell was that all about? He all but ran from the room, leaving her both supremely confused and satiated.

But, goddamn, she’d also been both wrong and right.

Reality actually exceeded the fantasy.

And hell, the man knew how to handle his biscotti.