A soft, involuntary moan escaped Sara's throat when Luca's tongue finally sought entrance. He sensually slid across the seam of her lips. In that instant, every defensive wall she had painstakingly constructed around her heart to keep this man distant crumbled beneath the force of his passionate demand.
Her fingers frantically gripped the cotton of his shirt, tightening into white-knuckled fists just as her back collided sharply with the edge of the cool kitchen counter behind her.
His lips withdrew for only a fleeting second, before he reclaimed her mouth with even greater intensity.
"Luca!" she gasped, managing a desperate push against his solid chest. "They will arrive anytime. We must stop," she whispered, her voice breathless and frantic, fighting the rising tide of desire.
"No," Luca refused against her mouth. His hands moved with possessive speed to the hem of her top, effortlessly pulling her upwards.
