Mediterranean Tycoons: Tempting & Taken: The Italian's Runaway Bride / His Inherited Bride / Pregnancy of Revenge

‘Kelly, you are the most utterly feminine woman I have ever seen,’ he declared, his breathing heavy. He lifted a finger and slowly stroked over the smooth skin of her shoulder, then lower in a line across the soft curve of her breasts.

Helplessly she swayed towards him, her own eyes raking over his bronzed torso, the symmetry of muscle and sinew, the savage splendour of his powerful aroused body. She murmured his name and reached out to touch him, with a look in her sapphire eyes as old as Eve.

He groaned with sheer impatience and lifted her in his arms again, sinking to the bed with her.

The full contact of his naked body with hers made Kelly dizzy with desire. The blood drummed in her ears, and blindly she reached for him. Gianfranco reared up over her, filling her vision, and bent his head to her breast.

She felt the warm, moist pressure of his mouth taking the rigid tip inside and she moaned softly, her body arching towards the sensual pleasure of his mouth. Her hands clung to his wide shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh, helpless captive to the erotic expertise of his tongue and teeth.

His hand moved to tenderly caress the soft mound of her belly, and all the while his mouth and other hand teased her breasts, his thumb scraping over the rigid tip, driving her crazy, her body writhing in an explicit demand for more. ‘Gianfranco,’ she pleaded.

He lifted his head, his black eyes glittering with passion. ‘Slowly, slowly,’ he rasped, and lowered his head to brush her lips with his.

Kelly eagerly opened her mouth for him as he eased his hand from her stomach down to the soft curls guarding her feminine core, making her body tremble. His fingers delved into the soft velvet folds to find the moist heat, and stroked and touched until she groaned out loud.

He lifted his head to look into her passion-glazed eyes. ‘You want me,’ he breathed. ‘And I want you.’

Kelly bit into the flesh of his chest, wild with need; she didn’t understand the urge, but her mouth found a small male nipple and licked and kissed it, her nails digging into his flesh harder and harder as his long fingers continued to mercilessly explore her body. Her heart hammered and she writhed against him. She felt him shudder and groan, and, made brave by the passion riding her, slid a hand down to his powerful body until she reached the rigid length of him and closed around him.

‘No,’ Gianfranco rasped, and, catching her hand, he pulled it from his body. ‘Not yet; I don’t want to hurt you.’ And, rolling onto his back, he lifted her over him, his night-black eyes dilated with passion. ‘Trust me,’ he grated as he slowly surged up into the sweet, hot heart of her femininity.

Her brilliant sapphire eyes widened, the pupils expanding until they almost eclipsed the blue. A whimper of sound escaped her throat as he drew her towards him, his mouth lifting to capture a taut nipple. He suckled her tender flesh with an avid enjoyment that drove her wild with desire as his strong hands held her waist, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. Her head fell back, her hands flat on his broad chest, fingers digging into his flesh as slowly, with subtle movements of his hands and hips, he rocked her higher and higher until she was drowning in the unimaginable wonder of pure sensation. He was hard and hot, and drove her to the edge of ecstasy—more pleasure than she had ever imagined existed. Her nails scratched across his chest and she cried out his name, as he swiftly reversed their positions. For a second he stared down at her, hunger and determination warring in the dark, taut features.

‘This time, Kelly, this time for you,’ he said hoarsely, and then moved again.

He filled her completely, and Kelly was lost in an all-encompassing passion, a primeval need, that drove her mindlessly onto another plane where time was suspended and her shuddering body reached and found the little death, the pitch of human passion, in a fierce, convulsive climax. Her blue eyes flew wide open in shocked wonder at the awesome joy of fulfilment. His harsh groan of satisfaction as he spilled his seed inside her mingled with her keening cry of his name.

Her hands clung to his broad shoulders, then softly stroked the sweat-damp skin. ‘I thought the first time was wonderful, but…’ She breathed unevenly, looking up into his night-black eyes.

‘Shhh.’ Gianfranco slipped onto his side. ‘I know.’ And, pressing soft little kisses to her face and hair, he held her tenderly against him.

‘I never knew…’ she whispered, breaking the silence, rubbing her head against a strong tanned shoulder like a satisfied kitten.

Gianfranco looked into her dazed blue eyes. ‘Now you know why I was so angry the first time,’ he said huskily, with all the confidence of a man who knew he had satisfied his lady.

Tension snaked through her. Sadly she remembered the aftermath last time. ‘Because I might get pregnant,’ she muttered with a slight frown. ‘But that hardly applies now.’

With a deep throaty chuckle, Gianfranco planted a swift kiss on her small nose. ‘No, my sweet. It wasn’t so much the fact you were innocent that made me angry, but because, though I was loath to admit it, I never gave you the satisfaction you should have had,’ he declared ruefully. ‘I lost control. You were too innocent to know the difference, but I did. It was quite a blow to my male ego, so I took it out on you, and for that I apologise.’

‘Oh, oh, I see.’ A dawning realisation lit her wide blue eyes as they met his. Gianfranco, her macho lover, feeling vulnerable as the next man about his performance in bed? The thought made her grin.

‘It wasn’t funny at the time.’ He nipped teasingly at the small lobe of her ear. ‘And I promise you it will never happen again. I am going to spend the rest of my life making love to you to prove it.’ He found her lips and kissed her long and lingeringly, then trailed kisses in an erotic path down her throat, her breasts, and to the soft swell of her stomach.

Kelly glanced down to where his dark head lay against her stomach and she wanted to believe a miracle had happened and he loved her. ‘You don’t have to marry me,’ she murmured reluctantly, not wanting to burst the miraculous bubble she seemed to be floating in, but knowing she had to give him the choice.

Gianfranco rubbed his cheek against her belly, and, caressing the smooth mound, he pressed worshipful kisses on her silken skin. ‘Our son,’ he said, and, rearing up on one elbow, he let his other large hand gently, almost reverently, massage her stomach. ‘And I do have to marry you, because I never want to be apart from you again.’

Kelly looked long and hard into his dark eyes, wanting to believe him. But was it her or a son he wanted? she asked herself. ‘It might be a girl.’

‘Girl, boy. I don’t care as long as I have you.’ Then he started to make love to her again, with a gentle seductive tenderness, an expertise that banished all her fears, and finally convinced her he loved her as he completely overwhelmed her all over again.

CHAPTER SIX

THEY were married four days later on the Friday, and Kelly, walking out of the registrar’s office with Gianfranco’s arm around her shoulders, was still reeling from the speed of it all.

‘Wait.’ Margaret, who had agreed with her brother Jim to be their witness, stopped them on the steps. ‘You have to have a photograph,’ she said, and raised her camera to her eye. ‘Say cheese.’

‘I’d rather say sex,’ Gianfranco whispered in Kelly’s ear, and brought a beaming smile to her face.

‘You are insatiable,’ Kelly chuckled a moment later, her blue eyes laughing up at him. The past few days they had made love morning, noon and night. In between, Gianfranco had organised everything. Kelly had resigned from her job, and her family home was up for sale with a local estate agent, Gianfranco insisting her home was going to be with him from now on.

The only thing Kelly had done herself was shop; she had bought a trousseau of sorts, given the limitations of her figure: lacy underwear and a couple of satin nightgowns, a few smart-casual clothes and one cocktail dress, plus the outfit she was wearing.

It was a winter-white cashmere dress, long-sleeved, with a softly curved bow-neck that revealed a hint of cleavage. The fine wool skimmed her figure, and flared ever so slightly from her knees almost to her feet. Elegant and ideal for a January day, it moulded her stomach, but Kelly didn’t mind. If famous film stars could reveal their bumps in the nude, she told herself, her small tummy was perfectly acceptable. Apart from her posy of yellow rosebuds, her only adornment was the diamond crucifix around her slender throat.

‘You look beautiful,’ Gianfranco told her as he helped her into the waiting car. ‘My wife,’ and he kissed her with a very self-satisfied grin on his handsome face.

Seated in the VIP lounge at the airport, Kelly glanced across at her very new husband. He was standing by the business desk, sending messages to heaven knew where, while they waited for their flight to be called for Rome. He made her heart leap with love. He looked so devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored dark navy three-piece suit, and brilliant white silk shirt. A lock of black hair fell forward over his broad brow, and she watched with some amusement as he gesticulated with one hand while talking on the telephone. In that moment it hit her how very Latin he was.

The briefest of frowns marred her smooth brow as for the first time she wondered how she would get on living in what was for her a foreign country, with Gianfranco and his family.

Kelly stood on the balcony later that day and gaped in awe at the view before her. The whole of Rome appeared spread out below. Two strong arms wrapped around her nonexistent waist, and a dark head bent and a warm mouth nuzzled her ear. ‘You like the view, cara?’

Like it? She loved it! She’d unpacked her suitcase while Gianfranco had made a few urgent business calls, then he’d given her a swift tour of the penthouse—the sitting room was comfortable but elegant, decorated in blue and gold, the furniture was a selection of tasteful antiques, while the master bedroom was a symphony in cream and dark rose and the other three bedrooms were just as elegant.

She turned slowly in the arms that held her, and beamed up into Gianfranco’s darkly handsome face. ‘The view is magnificent—the apartment is magnificent.’ Reaching a slender finger to his face, she added, ‘And you are magnificent.’ As she traced the outline of his sensuous lips with the pad of one finger, her blue eyes meshed with his. ‘Can we stay here forever?’

A long kiss later Gianfranco answered. ‘Not for ever, but for the next three days certainly. Then we must go to my country estate, and I will have to get back to work.’

‘Do you think your family will like me?’ Kelly voiced her fear. ‘Maybe you should have asked them to the wedding?’ Gianfranco bent his head, his lips brushing hers again, and she savoured the sweetness with the tip of her tongue as he grinned down into her luminous blue eyes.

‘They will love you, and there wasn’t time to ask them to the wedding. Anyway, you have already met Mother and Olivia, and they know why we married. Mother is arranging a reception for you in two weeks’ time to introduce you to everyone.’ Something about what he said disturbed her, but before she had time to think he added, ‘But right now I want to start the honeymoon.’ Bending down, he scooped her bodily into his arms, with an easy strength that made her lace her arms around his neck and nuzzle her lips against the pulse that beat in the strong column of his throat as he carried her through to the bedroom.

‘Do you have any idea how much I want you?’ Gianfranco asked roughly as he lowered her to her feet and speedily divested her of her clothes. ‘How much I ache for you?’ And his own clothes were removed.

Kelly’s heart raced at the sight of him. He was all-powerful, virile male, and the very air in the room seemed charged with an electric current of sensualism.

Gianfranco’s dark eyes roamed possessively over her naked form, the high, firm breasts, then lower to the growing swell of her stomach, and lower still to the soft curve of her hips and thighs.

Kelly proudly exulted in his scrutiny; this was her husband. Her own gaze swept over his wide shoulders, the mat of soft, dark hair on his broad chest descending in a fine line to brush out and cradle his sex. She heard the harsh intake of his breath and the sudden rise and fall of his chest, and tilted back her head to look up at him.

Gianfranco’s deep, dark eyes seemed to pierce her soul as he reached for her. ‘Kelly, my wife,’ he growled. ‘At last.’ He hauled her to him with a savage urgency that surprised her.

Her hands found his shoulders as his tongue plundered the tender interior of her mouth. He kissed her deep and long, his hard body burning against her, until her head swam and she could hardly breathe. Then he lifted her to the bed.

‘Gianfranco.’ Kelly surfaced long enough from the heady magic of his kiss to say his name.

‘Who else?’ he growled sexily. ‘You are mine now.’ He muttered something huskily in Italian before his mouth dipped down to capture one taut nipple and suckle her tender flesh with intense erotic delight that drove her wild with wanting.

In the long passion-filled hours that followed they fed off each other’s hunger to the point of exhaustion. Kelly thought Gianfranco had taught her all about love in the past few days, but he still surprised her.

‘You make me insatiable,’ Gianfranco rasped on a shuddering sigh as he reluctantly withdrew from the sleek heart of her and drew her gently into the hard curve of his body. ‘I must remember you are pregnant, and control myself.’

Kelly smiled. She had lost count of the times he had driven them both to the brink and over. ‘A bit late now, my love,’ she murmured sleepily, resting her head on the side of his chest, her long lashes falling down over her sapphire eyes. ‘But it is our wedding night.’ She whispered the words against his sweat-slicked skin, her body sated and exhausted.

A sound jerked her out of a deep sleep and, rolling over on the bed, she reached for Gianfranco and found only space. Hauling herself up into a sitting position, she blinked and looked around. Their holiday was obviously over.

The past three days had been the most marvellous of her life. Gianfranco had shown her Rome, the Colisseum, the Trevi fountain, where she’d thrown the obligatory coin, all the obvious tourist attractions, and a few not so obvious. There was the tiny church tucked away in a narrow street, with an altar screen of unbelievable beauty. A small restaurant with plastic tablecloths, serving the most mouth-watering food in Italy, according to her husband.

A sigh of sheer contentment was followed by her stomach’s rumbling. She was eating for two and they had missed dinner again last night. Slipping out of bed, she padded to the bathroom and after a brisk shower she walked back into the bedroom, wearing only a large fluffy towel tucked around her body toga-style.

‘Good morning, cara,’ Gianfranco drawled huskily, placing a loaded tray containing coffee and a selection of pastries down on the bedside table. He walked towards her, his eyes bright with amusement at her scantily covered, rumpled state. ‘Sorry to rush you, but I want to make it home by midday if possible.’ He pressed a swift kiss on her lush lips.

‘Monday morning and the honeymoon is over.’ Kelly sighed dramatically, her blue eyes sparkling up at him; he looked devastatingly attractive in blue jeans and a black Armani sweater.

‘Don’t worry,’ Gianfranco instructed, ‘I will take you on a proper honeymoon—anywhere you want. The Maldives, the Caribbean. Once our child is born and we can be alone.’ His deep voice dropped sexily and, lifting his hand, he brushed her hair behind one ear. The touch of his warm fingers and the sensual promise in his dark eyes made her heart skip a beat. ‘I promise,’ he mouthed against her slightly parted lips, and kissed her again. ‘Now eat and pack and dress.’ With a tender pat to her stomach, he spun on his heel and left the room.

Refreshed by the coffee and food, in five minutes she was dressed in a pair of pale grey trousers, in fine wool blend, and a crew-neck blue sweater. On her feet she wore comfortable black loafers, and she had draped a dove-grey leather jacket over the suitcase. She gave her hair a quick brush, leaving it to fall long and straight from a centre parting, and she was ready.

‘Ready?’ Gianfranco demanded sauntering back into the room and looping a long arm around her waist.

‘I guess so.’ Kelly’s eyes were nervous as she glanced up at him. ‘I hope your mother likes me…’

‘You worry too much,’ he teased, and kissed her again, and when she was suitably breathless he lifted his head. ‘I adore you, and my mother likes whoever I like,’ he drawled with unconscious arrogance, and, bending, he picked up the suitcase. ‘Come on.’

If he thought he was reassuring Kelly he was wrong. Common sense told her no woman was going to be delighted to have missed her only son’s wedding and then have him turn up with a pregnant wife. Acceptance was the best she could hope for, she reasoned, and the first seed of doubt took root in her heart. Had she done the right thing in marrying Gianfranco? She loved him, but would love be enough?

Kelly looked out of the window of the Ferrari with some trepidation as Gianfranco brought the car to a halt in a huge paved courtyard outside the impressive entrance portico of his family home. They had stopped on the way for lunch, but now they had arrived there was no ducking the inevitable any longer; she was about to meet his mother as his wife. She glanced back at her husband, but he was already out of the car and a second later had opened the car door for her.

‘Welcome to Il Casa Maldini.’ He gestured at the huge building with a wave of one hand, and, grasping her arm, helped her out of the low-slung sports car. ‘A Ferrari was obviously not designed for a pregnant lady,’ he said, grinning down at her as he swept an arm around her shoulders. ‘From now on we will use the Mercedes.’

With some astonishment Kelly realised ‘Il Casa Maldini’ was actually engraved in the stone lintel above the great door. ‘Some house,’ she murmured. She tipped her head back and stared up at the building. Built in an open-ended rectangle, three storeys high, it was enormous. The ochre stuccoed walls gleamed golden in the pale winter sunshine.

‘Sì, my family has owned the land around here for countless generations. Maldini is a very old and very much respected name,’ he stated as he led her up the steps to the massive double doors, now magically opened by a small white-headed man.

In a flurry of introductions Kelly discovered the man’s name was Aldo, his wife Maria was the cook; there were six more servants whose names she barely registered, and finally a young girl of about eighteen, Anna, who smiled shyly when Gianfranco introduced her to Kelly as her personal maid.

His mother appeared from a room at one side of the massive oak-panelled hall, and welcomed her son with a kiss on each cheek. Her greeting to Kelly was less demonstrative.

‘I am sorry I missed the wedding, but it was so unexpected, so quick.’ And her dark eyes, so uncannily like her son’s, dropped down to Kelly’s stomach and then quickly back to her face as she added, ‘Welcome, Kelly; I know you inglese shake hands.’ She held out a perfectly manicured hand.

‘Thank you,’ Kelly murmured. Hot colour scorching her cheeks, she took the hand offered her and hoped she had made the right noises, feeling intimidated by the woman, the line of servants and the overwhelming grandeur of the place.

Five minutes later, seated on a rather hard satin-backed sofa, Kelly looked around her in barely concealed awe. The furniture was all antique, and the magnificent marble fireplace was a masterpiece. But it was the ceiling that made her gasp, being exquisitely painted and depicting some kind of pastoral scene, with men and women lying around in various stages of undress, draped in vines and flowers.

‘Kelly? What would you like?’

Kelly tore her gaze away from the stunning frescoes and glanced across at Gianfranco. He was standing by the fireplace, a thumb hooked in the hip-hugging band of his jeans, his other hand curved around a crystal glass half-full of what looked like whisky. Aldo the butler stood a few paces away from him.

‘Alcohol is out for you, but coffee, or fresh juice? Aldo is waiting.’

‘Oh, I’ll have a cup of tea, please.’ Kelly said the first thing that came into her head. She had not realised they were waiting for her.

‘You are so English,’ Gianfranco’s mother said with a little laugh. ‘I think you will find our ways quite strange.’

Aldo left after a quick command from Gianfranco, and then he turned to smile down at his mother. ‘Rubbish, Mamma. Kelly will soon learn. With you to teach her, how could she not?’ And the two of them shared a look of mutual understanding.

Watching, Kelly felt vaguely left out for a second, and not at all sure what it was she was supposed to learn from her very grand-looking, elegant mother-in-law.

Aldo returned and served the tea, while Gianfranco and his mother carried on a conversation in Italian, which effectively excluded Kelly. She knew some Italian, and had for the past few months been trying to learn more with the help of tapes, but they spoke too fast for Kelly to pick up more than a few words.

Suddenly dark eyes were turned on Kelly. ‘Excuse us, Kelly, but my son and I have so much to catch up on, and I forget you do not speak our language.’

‘That’s perfectly all right,’ Kelly said quietly, returning her teacup to the tray. ‘I understand…’ she hesitated ‘…Signora Maldini.’ She had no idea how to address her new mother-in-law.

‘Oh, please, as we are all going to live together, you must call me Carmela.’

Kelly smiled. ‘Why, thank you, Carmela.’

‘My pleasure, and now if you have finished your tea, perhaps you would like Anna to show you the main part of the house, and then to your suite.’ A bell was rung and in minutes Anna appeared at the door.

She was being sent to her room! Kelly almost laughed out loud. ‘No, really—’ she began to object, when Carmela cut in.

‘In your delicate condition I am sure you will appreciate a rest in the afternoon. We dine at nine.’

Kelly glanced expectantly up at Gianfranco, sure he would object to what sounded to Kelly like a dismissal and offer to give her a guided tour himself. But instead he strolled across to where she sat and, reaching for her hand, urged her to her feet.

‘Mamma is right. You go along with Anna. I have a few calls to make.’ His lips brushed hers in a fleeting caress and, turning her towards the door, he patted her bottom. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

Hiding her disappointment, Kelly followed Anna as she dutifully pointed out the many reception rooms. Then she led Kelly up the grand staircase and along various corridors, pointing out Carmela’s suite and Olivia’s next to it. Kelly was slightly surprised at the mention of Olivia; she had not realised the woman lived here as well. The upper floor was the servants’ quarters.

Gianfranco’s suite was in the west wing of the house, and was more like an apartment, but without a kitchen. One huge bedroom and a large dressing room, two bathrooms, a comfortable sitting room and another slightly smaller bedroom. Standing in the middle of the sitting room, Kelly looked around, her mood lifting as she surveyed the fire burning brightly in the fireplace. It felt warm and welcoming. She sighed with relief and dismissed the maid.

One wall was lined with shelves and books. Old trophies were scattered around and, reading the inscriptions, Kelly realised they were for sailing. A large leather sofa and two armchairs were placed around the fireplace, and in one corner stood a writing table, in another a huge state-of-the-art television…