His Yasmina [Completed]

Prologue

He was looking her from the tip of her black stilettos and slowly raising his gaze all over her until he reached her eyes again.  An arrogant, scoundrels half-smile broke over his face.

"You're quite a woman."

She couldn't fight the pink blush flooding her cheeks. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Russo."

He took a step closer, and for a second she was certain he would kiss her.  He was near enough that she could see the dark bristles lining his firm jaw. She held her breath ready to fight him.  He reaches for her hand, never breaking eye contact.  Her breath hitched, watching him with wide eyed wonder as he lifted it to his lips and kissed the back like a well mannered gentleman. 

His gaze seared into her soul.

"Accept my apology, Yasmina.  I stand before you as a man, needing no more than your forgiveness and your friendship. Forgive me for all the horrible things I said. You deserve better than how I treated you." He slid his cheek back and forth against her hand. His eyes still locked with Jasmine's, he kisses her palm and each finger.

The sweet sensations of his kisses zapped directly towards her middle, amazed at how the simple brush of his lips could make her tingle in so many places. Jasmine was hit by a vivid image of Cristiano and herself in bed together, her hair floating in a brown golden cloud across the tanned skin of his chest, while his legs twined intimately around hers.  The picture set her pulse racing and her skin with heat again. 

How was it possible she was attracted to this man?  How?

She forced the intrusive picture away, struggling to speak coolly.  "You're good with words, Mr. Russo, I'll give you that much."  She was rather proud of the sophisticated way she managed to toss out that comment, trying to tug her hand free from his large warm one. 

"Have dinner with me."  He invited, in a husky sensual tone, his eyes half lidded watching her closely.

Jasmine was quickly learning Italian men were very insistent, stubborn, felt the need to control everything, and weren't afraid to express what's on their mind. And most importantly they are very touchy feely. Cristiano, on both occasions of meeting, was always touching her as though it was a form of communication.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I can't accept." She refused, not being able to tear her gaze away from his ruthless handsome face.

"Reconsider."  His slow smile was packed with compelling male charm.  He stared at her, searching her eyes before he tugged her forward until her chest nearly touched his, their faces only inches apart. 

"You should be ashamed of yourself."  She says stiffening her body.  "You are engaged remember?  How would your fiancée feel if you asked another woman out?   Are we only objects for your sexual pleasure?"

His free arm circled her waist as the other held strongly to hers in a vice grip. "Personally I prefer to make love to a woman, not simply to perform séxually.  It is necessary for both partners to feel some measure of liking and affection.  I believe we would have been exceptionally compatible had I hid my intentions from you."  He admits softly, his brown eyes darkening.  "I saw it in your eyes, Yasmina." 

"You're trying to apologize and convey your intentions all over again?"  She says, pushing at his chest with her free hand.  "I would never have slept with you!"

"In our case now, that does not seem to be possible, no?  I can feel the intense dislike coming from you.  What I'm truly trying to say is: I find you more than attractive.  Your level of sophistication and class outshines most females.  I find it enchanting and very addicting on my senses.  My intentions were not to insult you again, cara.  I seem to have trouble keeping my thoughts to myself."