He put a hand between them to touch her cheek and then he carefully pulled her away until he looked down into her eyes.
The stark emotion there. The devastation. It was like a knife to the gut. She looked so very vulnerable.
Fragile. And scared. She looked scared to death. Was she afraid of him? Of what had happened? He couldn’t bear it if she hated herself for giving in to the overwhelming tension that had been building ever since he’d brought her to the island.
“What are you thinking?” he asked hoarsely. “Tell me you don’t regret this, Savvie. Anything but regret.”
Slowly she shook her head and he felt something loosen inside him. Relief. But it was only the first step.
He caressed her cheek, enjoying the feel of her satiny skin. No matter how much he’d told himself that he was better off without her, that he was well rid of her, he could no longer lie to himself.
He wanted her. He wanted her back, no matter what she’d done in the past. He’d been forced to examine their relationship after he’d broken their engagement and ordered her out of his house— and his life. Maybe he’d been partially to blame.
Maybe he’d worked too many hours. Maybe he’d neglected her.
Whatever the case, something had gone horribly wrong and he was determined to find the cause so that it didn’t happen again.
Unable to resist, he kissed her forehead and then each eyelid. He gently kissed each cheekbone and then her mouth before nibbling a path to her ear.
When he slid his hand up her thigh and delved into her with a finger, she cried out and clutched him closer.
“Matt,” she whispered. “Please—”
He knew what she was asking. Her hand closed around him, squeezing, rubbing, caressing, and she whispered again. “Please—”
He raised himself above her and pushed into her silken waiting core. And groaned.
Savannah cried out softly, then arched her hips, giving him full access, which he took.
He tortured himself by staying perfectly still until he thought he might explode.
Then when he did move, it was excruciatingly slowly.
But she wasn’t having slow and easy. His chest rumbled slightly with laughter. Not his Brat. Even in bed, she fought to be in control.
“Stop trying to be on top,” he whispered in her ear, then he kissed his way from her ear to her lips.
Then he thrust inside her—hard. Hard and long. He moved in and out, in and out until he saw her expression change from determination to surprise to ecstasy.
He thrust again and came in a burst of inner light that rivaled the storm outside.
Within a split second, she gasped and arched and he felt the full extent of her orgasm as she pulsed around him.
He buried his face between her neck and shoulder, breathing hard. As his breathing slowed, he heard her soft sigh and felt her fingers tracing his forearms, his biceps and triceps, his shoulders.
She kissed him just below the ear and he smiled at the sweetness of the gesture.
He missed her affection. Missed the way she had always seemed to be touching him or kissing him or just offering him a smile.
He’d missed her.
And now he had to find a way to make sure she didn’t leave again. He didn’t think for a minute that sex was a fix-all for a relationship. It wasn’t even a good bandage.
He knew it wasn’t going to be easy. There was too much mistrust and hurt between them, but somehow they had to find their way back. He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently.
She was his. She was willing to give them another chance. That made things simple. She belonged with him. She needed him to take care of her. He wanted to take care of her.
If he was willing to forget the past, then shouldn’t she be willing to try their relationship again? It wasn’t as if he’d betrayed her.
But she carried so much hurt and anger.
Something inside her had been broken. Had he done it when he’d tossed her out of his apartment? What had she expected?
He stroked her hair and willed himself not to become embroiled in the past. He’d promised himself—and her—that he’d put everything behind him.
And if he was willing to do that, then he saw no reason she shouldn’t be willing to let the past rest as well.
She doesn’t give up, does she?” Savannah murmured as she watched Leila approach their table, a determined expression on her face.
Matt looked up and to his credit heaved a sigh and appeared to be extremely irritated with the impending interruption. After a morning and most of the afternoon in bed, they’d ventured out for dinner and now they were back at the island, here was Leila, circling like a hawk.
And it wasn’t that Savannah was jealous. Honestly, Leila wasn’t Matt’s type, though she supposed his type could have changed after he’d broken their engagement.
What bothered her was the seemingly public knowledge of their relationship. It just proved Savannah’s assertion that his family and friends alike loathed her. Something Matt was finally coming to accept.
But acceptance didn’t make anything easier. While love was supposed to be “everything,” she wasn’t naïve enough to think that relatives hating you didn’t put an unbearable strain on a relationship.
Who could be happy when, at every turn, your lover’s family did everything they could to make their disapproval known?
Maybe they’d both been too naïve the first time.
Maybe now they could be stronger together. But then what would happen if and when Matt finally knew the truth about Enzo? And his mother’s part in the whole affair?
Once again, Savannah would be the wedge between him and his family. Their relationship might not survive a second time.
Leila stopped at the table and bent to kiss Matt on either cheek, leaving a smear of lipstick on his cheek.
Savannah sighed and sat back, resigned to another uncomfortable scene. Matt looked…pissed.
“Leila, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
He didn’t even try to be polite this time.
“Oh, I just came around to say goodbye. My flight leaves in the morning and I hoped we could set up a time to get together when you return to New York. Your mother would like us all to have dinner, and I promised her that I would come. You know how she is”