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

‘If you mention my condition once more, so help me I will flatten you,’ she screeched tempestuously.

His jaw clenched. ‘Contain yourself, Kelly, such temper cannot be good for you or the baby.’

Too angry to bother guarding her tongue, Kelly flared, ‘And you supporting Olivia over your wife is? The woman sleeps in the master suite and her husband has been dead over three years. But then maybe she is waiting for the new master to take his place, or perhaps you already have,’ she snarled, shaking with anger.

Gianfranco went rigid, tension emanating from him in waves. Hooded black eyes surveyed her with a look of such simmering rage that she involuntarily stepped back, afraid of a physical attack. Her anger vanished. She knew she had gone too far. What on earth had possessed her to throw Judy’s coarse rumours in his face?

‘You do well to retreat, Kelly. If you were not carrying my child I would make you pay for such a slanderous slur on your husband and a woman who has done you no harm but welcomed you into the family home.’

Kelly had never seen Gianfranco so angry; his eyes were flat and cold, and somehow that frightened her. He caught her shoulders and she trembled. His tanned near-naked body had the familiar devastating effect on Kelly. He was so close she had trouble breathing. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, completely subjugated by his towering presence.

Gianfranco saw the fear in her deep blue eyes and checked himself. She in turn infuriated and enchanted him, and if he could get his hands on whoever it was putting such stupid ideas in her head he would strangle them. ‘Tell me, who has been filling your head with such rubbish?’ he demanded, staring down at her, noting the panicked bounding of her heart and the rise and fall of her breasts against the soft satin covering them.

‘No one.’ Kelly lowered her eyes and stared at his broad chest. ‘It probably is just my hormones playing up,’ she offered as an excuse, and perhaps it was, she told herself, filled with shame at what she had implied. She had sounded like the worst kind of jealous wife. But she was not going to betray Judy. ‘When Anna showed me around I knew Olivia…’ She trailed off.

Gianfranco breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her into his arms. Hormones he could understand. He brushed his lips across her smooth brow in a tender gesture. ‘Perhaps I should have explained earlier, but you have to understand Olivia was devastated by the death of her husband Alfredo—my brother. We all were. But Olivia had a nervous breakdown and was ill for over a year, and, although she appears very confident and in control, she is still very fragile. She is family, so naturally Mamma and I look after her.’

Kelly was feeling worse by the minute. ‘Oh, how terrible for her.’ Her soft heart was touched.

‘Yes, cara,’ he murmured softly. ‘In a way you have everything that was once hers.’

Her body was shivering in the protective circle of his strong arms, but not with cold. She loved him; she would do anything for him. She could not bear him to be angry with her, and yet she couldn’t help it. ‘But not you.’ The words just popped out.

He chuckled, a deep, husky sound, and moulded her against him. ‘No, never me, but I’m flattered you’re jealous, cara.’ One lean, strong hand cupped her chin, his dark eyes intent on her lovely face. ‘But you are now married to the present count, and not only that, you are pregnant with probably the next one. Something that Olivia would have killed for when Alfredo was alive but it was not to be. So try to make allowances for her, hmm?’

She nodded her head, and his mouth, hot and urgent, covered her own as he kissed her with a long, lingering sexuality.

Kelly tried to make allowances, she really did… But it wasn’t easy.

Olivia’s hurtful comments whenever Gianfranco was not around, her hints that they had been lovers, were like water torture, slowly draining all Kelly’s confidence and self-esteem. She tried to talk to Gianfranco but he dismissed her fears, sometimes with a laugh, occasionally with cold disdain, which hurt her even more, but usually with a kiss. But sex was no longer enough for Kelly. She needed more, she needed her husband’s support, and when it was not forthcoming she grew more miserable and withdrawn by the day.

Kelly gave up mentioning Olivia to her husband, and with no one to turn to she struggled vainly against her doubts and fear. Gianfranco told her he adored her, made love to her, but he never made any attempt to find out how her mind worked. He treated her like a treasured pet. Sometimes when a sense of hopelessness overwhelmed her she wandered into the little-used rooms of the great house and gave in to her growing sense of isolation and misery, crying herself sick. It said it all that nobody even missed her…

When Gianfranco mentioned two weeks later that he was leaving for America the next day, Kelly wanted to object. She looked at him across the width of their private sitting room. He was handsome, powerful, autocratic, but she realised bitterly, there was no point. He did what he wanted when he wanted; he was not asking her approval, simply telling her, and she simply agreed. In a brief moment of clarity her melancholy lifted enough for her to wonder where the cartwheeling, kick-boxing, bright young career-minded woman of last summer had gone. But Gianfranco’s smile as he took her in his arms and kissed her made the image fade.

Within hours of Gianfranco departing, Carmela was called away to stay with a sick friend in Verona, and Kelly was left with only Olivia for company.

At dinner that night Olivia showed her true colours. She lashed into Kelly, telling her that she was gold-digging little slut and Gianfranco cared nothing for her, only the child. When Kelly tried to respond Olivia actually threw a glass of wine over her.

Running from the room, Kelly seriously wondered if the woman was mentally stable at all. She had seen madness in her eyes. Perhaps all her hateful comments and innuendoes were the work of a twisted mind. Paradoxically it made Kelly feel much better. Gianfranco was her husband, and Olivia could not hurt Kelly unless she let her. The easiest way was to avoid Olivia altogether. With that thought in mind, Kelly informed Aldo she would be eating in her suite until the master returned.

Gianfranco phoned the next morning, and after assuring himself Kelly was fine he asked to speak to his mother. Kelly told him she had gone to visit a sick friend. She knew he assumed she meant for a few hours, but didn’t elaborate. She was so pleased to hear the sound of his voice she wanted nothing to spoil their rapport.

Kelly heaved a sigh of relief as she watched Olivia drive away the next afternoon to visit Rome. Alone in the house, without Olivia’s hateful presence, Kelly thought she might get to like it, but, as a woman who had always been active, she found being waited on hand and foot slightly irksome.

Making a determined effort to get over the misery that was blighting her pregnancy and could not be good for the baby, Kelly took to going for long walks exploring the surrounding countryside. One day she stopped off at the local bar in the nearest village for a refreshing glass of lemonade before returning to the Casa Maldini. Gradually her confidence returned. She even found the nerve to drive the Mercedes that Gianfranco had put at her disposal, and travelled further afield to go shopping. Usually Anna accompanied her.

Ten days later her mother-in-law returned, full of apologies for her absence, and Olivia turned up a couple of hours later.

The next day Gianfranco arrived. Kelly watched him slide out from behind the wheel of his sports car. He was dressed casually in a black leather jacket, black roll-neck sweater, and wickedly skin-tight jeans. With his hair falling over his brow she was vividly reminded of Gianni and the fun they had had with the motorbike, and her heart turned over with love. She looked down at herself, and a regretful sigh escaped her; nothing could hide the fact she was over six months pregnant. But she had dressed with care in black trousers and a bright red and black tunic, and she knew she looked good.

Kelly glanced up and Gianfranco’s dark eyes met hers, and in unison they smiled. He stepped forward and crushed her in his arms, kissing her with a hungry passion that wiped all the doubt and fear from her mind.

Over the next two days they made love often. For Kelly a kind of radiant hope began to break through the suspicion and misery of the last few weeks. Gianfranco spent most of the day closeted in his study, but his nights were all hers.

The third night, Kelly dressed in black jersey silk harem pants, with a matching top lavishly covered in multicoloured embroidery. She looked great and felt even better. Full of confidence, she hummed a tune as she descended the stairs into the hall.

Gianfranco always dressed first, and then went downstairs for his usual whisky and soda before dinner, but tonight he had delayed long enough to make love to her in the shower, which was the reason for her good humour.

Olivia was standing in the hall looking her usual immaculate self in a black dress.

‘Hi, Olivia,’ Kelly said with a polite smile.

‘Smile while you have the chance—you won’t for much longer,’ Olivia sneered, and swept into the dining room in front of Kelly.

A bit of Kelly’s renewed confidence slipped as she walked into the room.

It slipped a lot further over dinner. The conversation was stilted, and Gianfranco sat for the most part in a brooding silence. When Kelly said anything he replied in monosyllables, and she was heartily glad when the meal was over. She made her excuses and was the first to leave the table. There was something about this house, she thought fancifully as she walked out into the gloomy hall, that reeked of dark deeds and hidden passions.

‘Wait, Kelly.’ Gianfranco grasped her arm. ‘Come into the study a minute; we need to talk.’

‘You’ve got that right,’ she said with feeling. ‘What the hell was all that about?’ she demanded, following him into the study.

Gianfranco stopped by the desk and swung around to face her. He looked at Kelly, with her blonde hair falling smooth as silk to her shoulders and her blue eyes fixed on him, looking as innocent as sin! He wanted her as he had never wanted any other woman, but she had to realise as his wife she had certain standards to maintain. He was a very busy man, with an estate and a financial empire to run. He expected his home life to proceed like clockwork, and he didn’t have time to oversee it himself. He should have had this conversation with Kelly weeks ago, but in the time they spent together she knocked every sensible thought out of his head and all he could think of was making love to her. She drove him crazy, probably always would, but it was time he laid down some ground rules.

‘So talk,’ Kelly said, glancing across at her husband, looking magnificently male and moody. ‘I don’t know why you’re being so brooding.’ She gave a little laugh.

His eyes narrowed, not a glimmer of a smile softening his saturnine features. ‘Kelly, as my wife you have a certain position to uphold in the community, and there are certain things that are not acceptable.’

Her smooth brow pleated in a frown; he had to be joking. ‘Like picking my nose?’ she joked, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. But she failed…

CHAPTER EIGHT

IGNORING her attempt at humour, Gianfranco said, ‘It has been brought to my attention that in my absence you were seen in the village on your own in the local bar.’

‘So? I was tired and I stopped for a glass of lemonade.’ She didn’t see his point.

‘Kelly, that is not suitable behaviour for my wife, nor is speeding around the countryside in a car with one of the servants. Could you imagine my mother or Olivia ever doing such a thing? They were horrified when they found out,’ he told her, a grim smile parting his firm lips. ‘I can’t be here all the time, and when I am away I would be obliged if you would try and listen to their advice. Olivia assures me she did try to tell you what was expected of the lady of the house, and warned you more than once about your behaviour. You ignored her.’

His comment was like a red rag to a bull. Now she knew what Olivia had meant earlier about wiping the smile off her face. ‘That is amazing, considering your mother wasn’t here almost the whole time you were away. As for Olivia, apart from calling me a tramp the first night you left, she shot off to Rome the next day. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Anna I wouldn’t have spoken to a soul until your mother came back the day before you.’

He folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘Rubbish.’ His disdainful smile had been replaced by a stern, fixed stare. ‘I told them to look after you.’

Kelly stared at him. ‘You arrogant, conceited, pompous oaf!’ she said, her hands on her hips. ‘If you could hear yourself.’ She shook her head, her blonde hair flying around her face. ‘You sound like you’re lecturing a child.’

‘Not a child, Kelly, but you.’ He gave her a cold smile. ‘And you do have a tendency to act as a child.’

‘Sorry,’ she shot back sarcastically, ‘but you have the tendency to act like God.’

His hands fell to his sides and he leant back against the desk and stuffed them in his pockets. ‘And you have a tendency to, I wouldn’t say lie, exactly, but exaggerate,’ he drawled cynically. ‘I called you every day and you never once mentioned you were alone. Odd, wouldn’t you say?’ One dark brow arched sardonically.

She looked at him; he was standing with his hands in his pockets, tightening the fine wool of his trousers across his thighs. He was a virile, sexy man and she loved him, but she did not have to listen to this.

‘Nowhere near as odd as having a husband who does not believe a word I say,’ she opined bitterly, and, spinning on her heel, she left, with tears blinding her eyes. She’d had such hopes for their reunion, but nothing had changed.

Midnight and Kelly was lying wide-awake in bed, tensely waiting for Gianfranco. She heard the sound of the shower running, then silence. The bedroom door opened and closed. Dry mouthed, her stomach swirling with a mixture of desire and dismay, Kelly watched him through the thick screen of her lashes as he walked towards the bed. He was so splendidly male; his naked olive-skinned body gleamed in the rays of moonlight shining through the window. He was a wonderful lover, but however much she tried to ignore the fact she knew in her heart it was no longer enough. A marriage needed more than sex—like sharing each other’s hopes, and fears, trust. She opened her mouth to say as much when he slipped into bed beside her, only to have it covered with a tender kiss.

‘Sorry, Kelly.’ He gathered her in his arms. ‘Mamma told me you were right; forgive me.’ Quickly divesting her of her nightgown, he gathered her gently in his arms.

Held close against his naked length, she sighed and forgave him. He made love to her with an aching tenderness that brought tears to her eyes. It was only afterwards that doubt reared its ugly head again. Gianfranco believed his mother, believed Olivia, but his wife was another matter entirely. And the thought hurt so much that sleep was a long time coming.

‘Buon giorno, cara.’

Kelly’s eyes fluttered open. Gianfranco was standing by the bed, wearing a grey three-piece suit. He looked exactly what he was, an incredibly handsome, dynamic businessman, but more importantly her husband, and she stretched and smiled up at him.

‘Sorry to wake you, sweetheart, but I am leaving shortly for Rome. It looks as if I will probably have to stay a night or two, and I couldn’t leave without kissing my wife goodbye.’ He sent her a slow, teasing smile that made her heart beat faster in her chest. ‘Miss me and be good. I’ll call tonight.’ Swooping down, he pressed a long, hard kiss on her softly parted lips.

Dazed by his kiss, she didn’t get the chance to object before he had left.

Nothing had really changed, she thought sadly as she wandered aimlessly through the great hall the next morning.

Aldo called her to the telephone. It was Judy Bertoni. Glad to hear a familiar voice, Kelly jumped at the chance when Judy suggested she drive over to Desenzano for lunch and a bit of shopping. Apparently she had opened the house by the lake early, as her father-in-law was ill and the family were staying in Italy to be near him.

Kelly told Carmela where she was going, and, by the time she arrived in Desenzano two hours later, her melancholy mood had lifted a little. Judy greeted her, and seeing the garden where she’d first met Gianfranco, when she’d thought he was a thief, brought a smile to her face.

Driving back towards the Casa Maldini at seven o’clock that night, Kelly was in a much better frame of mind. The trunk of the Mercedes was stuffed full of things for the baby, and a few for herself. She had hardly used the allowance Gianfranco had given her. She only hoped he wasn’t mad at how much she had spent today, with Judy’s encouragement.

The next thing she saw was the headlights of a car coming straight for her. She swerved violently, and stopped. The seatbelt cut into her stomach like a knife, but prevented her from knocking herself out against the windscreen. With her heart pounding she looked around—the other car had gone. Shaking with shock, she felt her brow. Not much of a bump, she consoled herself, but it was some minutes before she stopped trembling enough to drive on.

By the time she reached the Casa Maldini, she felt ill. Getting out of the car, she instructed Aldo to bring in her purchases and went straight upstairs. A visit to the bathroom confirmed her worst fear: she was bleeding.

Carefully she walked back into the bedroom, and Anna was just entering with some packages. Kelly managed to tell her she needed the doctor, and in seconds Carmela was there and helping her undress and get into bed.

The next few hours were a nightmare. Dr Credo arrived, and after a thorough investigation decided Kelly should stay where she was. The baby appeared to be safe, but he was not taking any chances. Bedrest for at least the next week, and he would check every morning.

‘Idiota, must you always be such an impulsive fool?’ Gianfranco’s voice woke her from a shallow sleep.

She opened her eyes and looked up to see him standing by the bed. He was wearing a dark suit, a white silk shirt open at the throat, a tie hanging loose around his neck. His black hair was rumpled, and his dark eyes were shooting sparks.

‘You’re back,’ she said inanely.

‘Back? Of course I’m back. I left a room full of people in the middle of some crucial negotiations and hired a helicopter. What do you expect when I am told you drive the car almost in a ditch and nearly kill yourself and the baby? Are you mad or just plain stupid? What on earth possessed you to drive to Desenzano after Olivia told you not to? Do you have a death wish or something?’ Staccato-voiced, like a machine-gun firing, he let rip with the questions.

‘And hello to you, too,’ Kelly murmured, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Olivia again! Why wasn’t she surprised? But this time she was not about to argue; she needed all her strength for her baby. She was finally accepting that Gianfranco had about as much sensitivity as a rhinoceros—he was raving at her like a lunatic when she could have done with some tender loving care.

‘Damn it, look at me when I am talking to you.’

Kelly, clutching the coverlet with two hands over her chest, opened eyes awash with tears and looked up.

Gianfranco stilled, his face turning grey beneath the tan. What in God’s name was he doing yelling at her? She looked shocked and she was crying. He had never seen Kelly cry and it broke his heart. ‘Kelly,’ he began in a voice that shook.

‘What on earth is going on in here?’ Carmela walked into the bedroom. ‘Really, Gianfranco, you’re shouting so loud the servants can hear you.’ With a furious glance at her son she sat down on the side of the bed and, brushing Kelly’s hair from her brow with an elegant beringed hand, added, ‘Take no notice of him, child, he doesn’t know what he is saying.’

Kelly was so stunned by her mother-in-law’s intervention that she couldn’t say a word.

‘You go to sleep, as the doctor ordered, and don’t worry—you and the baby are going to be fine.’ Then, turning blistering eyes back to her son, she got to her feet and pushed his arm. ‘As for you, go and get a drink and calm down.’

Gianfranco hesitated for a second, his night-black eyes seeking Kelly’s, but she avoided his gaze, and, spinning on his heel, he left the room.

Kelly’s whole attitude changed overnight. The shock of the accident and the realisation that, but for the grace of God, it could have been much worse and she might have lost the baby filled her mind to the exclusion of everything else. When Gianfranco walked in the next morning she listened to his apology for yelling; she even half-believed him when he said it had been because he was so terrified of losing her it had made him angry. But she refused to get excited. The doctor had said no excitement, no stress, and plenty of bedrest.

When he took her in his arms and kissed her she responded as usual, but with a slight indefinable restraint. When he told her the doctor had said no sex until after the baby was born she accepted it, and when he suggested he sleep in the other bedroom, so as not to disturb her, she accepted that as well.

A kind of lethargy enfolded her, all she wanted to do was rest and take care of her child. Gianfranco was kindness itself. He took her out to dinner with friends, and he was solicitous of her welfare. That was when she saw him. His business kept him in Rome, and a trip to Australia to check out a vineyard there took up most of his time. Olivia’s sly comments no longer bothered her—her baby was more important than the petty jealousies of a widowed sister-in-law, Kelly told herself.

When she called Gianfranco in Rome one night, and Olivia answered the telephone, Kelly listened as Gianfranco explained without being asked that Olivia was there to shop, so naturally she was staying in the family apartment. Kelly responded with, ‘Yes, of course.’ Her only interest was her baby.

It was Easter weekend that finally broke her out of her lethargy. The sun was shining, spring had arrived and, eight months pregnant, Kelly finally slipped on the white and rose muslin dress Carmela had bought her. A wry smile curved her lips when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. It seemed an age ago when she had complained about it, but now it actually looked quite good, because she filled it.

‘Cara. Are you ready?’ Gianfranco walked into the bedroom, and stopped.

Kelly was standing by the mirror, smiling, and he didn’t think he had ever seen her looking more beautiful. She was wearing a white and pink loose-fitting dress with a wide floppy collar, with her long silver-gilt hair falling way past her shoulders. She reminded him of a Gainsborough painting, and he had to stuff his hand in his pocket to control the instant tightening in his groin. He hadn’t dared sleep with her because he did not trust himself not to make love to her. Instead he was working like the devil, so when the time came he would be able to take a long break with his wife and child. Only one more month, and then another few weeks and she would be his again.

Telling himself to get his mind above his waist, he walked across and took her arm. Kelly smiled up at him, and he dropped a brief kiss on her lips—the most he dared to allow himself. ‘Come on, I’ll take you down to dinner.’

With Gianfranco’s arm around her Kelly relaxed into the hard warmth of his body, feeling once more the familiar rush of happiness his touch evoked.

When he stroked her stomach with his free hand, and bent his dark head towards her and said huskily, ‘Not long now; I can hardly wait,’ she actually trembled slightly, and felt loved.

Dinner was pleasant. Carmela even complimented Kelly on her appearance. Given that she had chosen the dress, it was a bit of a back-handed compliment, but it raised Kelly’s spirits anyway. It was over coffee the bomb dropped…