New Arrivals: One Secret Child

She was following the trail of silky dark blond hair towards his belly button when he made a low, husky sound, slid his hands beneath her hair and urged her eagerly upwards again. The next thing she knew he was helping remove the scrap of plain white silk that denoted her panties and sliding down his zipper.

When he placed himself at the soft moist centre of Anna’s core, easing his way inside her and then plunging upwards, she threw back her head with a whimper. The very notion of pleasure broke all its bounds. It hardly seemed an adequate description for the utterly consuming sensations that effervesced through her body. Not since she’d surrendered her innocence to Dante five years ago had such violent waves of ecstatic bliss been hers. This was the completeness she’d longed for—the deep connection her soul had ached to experience again. The one primal force that could drive away all melancholy and doubt.

The feeling brought it unerringly home to her why she had never wanted another man since that first time with him…why she had resigned herself to being alone for ever—because no man could possibly come close to making her feel what Dante made her feel.

Utterly losing himself in their wild, urgent coupling, Dante buried himself so deep inside her dizzying heat that he swore he would melt. Expertly opening the catch on her bra, he quickly discarded the garment to fill his palms with her perfect satin-tipped breasts, stroking his thumbs across the tender nipples. Gazing up into Anna’s lovely face he saw the stunning crown of burnished hair that rippled river-like down over her pale smooth skin and knew there wasn’t another woman in the world to match her for beauty and grace. Or who could crack the frozen ice round his heart.

He should have searched for her long before this… why hadn’t he? Unbelievable that he’d let his fear of rejection keep him from the one woman who’d selflessly given herself to him all that time ago when he was most in need.

With urgency and passion Dante’s fingers bit into the soft flesh of Anna’s svelte hips, holding her to him as if he could never let her go. A long soft moan followed by her ragged breathing feathered over him as she climaxed, and suddenly he couldn’t hold back the tide that lapped forcefully at the shores of his own longing, and had no choice but to let it completely sweep him away.

‘Come here.’ He helped her lie across his chest, then wrapped his arms around her. It was a new experience for him to hold a woman like this after making love. Not just to appease her, but simply for the sheer joy of being close—to sense the beat of her heart slowly but surely aligning with his. When they finally came to live together he would enjoy that pleasure every single day he realised. Weaving his fingers through her long flowing hair Dante kissed the top of Anna’s head.

She stirred, raising her face to his. ‘That was rather wonderful. But now I feel absolutely incapable of doing anything else.’ She smiled.

‘And exactly what did you have planned for the rest of the evening that our enjoyment of each other has interrupted, innamorata?’

Her smile didn’t fade. Instead it grew impish, just like their daughter’s. ‘Well…for starters I’ve got a pile of ironing to do.’

‘And this is essential?’

‘It might not be.’ Her voice lowered seductively, and renewed desire—swift and hot as a lava-flow—made Dante bite back a groan. ‘It depends what distractions are on offer as an alternative.’

‘You’ve become a shameless temptress in my absence, I see.’ In one swiftly deft move Dante took hold of Anna’s arms, moved her to the side of him, then captured her beneath him. The laughter in her pretty eyes instantly died. ‘As long as you haven’t been practising your seductive arts on some other poor defenceless male, I won’t complain.’

She looked stricken for a moment. ‘I swear to you I haven’t.’

The tension that had suddenly gripped him at the idea of Anna being with someone else eased.

‘Then is this the kind of distraction you were looking for, hmm? ‘ he enquired huskily as he firmly parted her thighs and once again hungrily joined his body to hers.

‘Is that an aria by Puccini you’re whistling, Anna?’ Pausing in his food preparation for lunch, Luigi narrowed his gaze in surprise as he studied the hotel’s slim assistant manager, who had come into the kitchen to collect the menu.

‘Yes, from Madame Butterfly. I hope you don’t think I was murdering it, or being sacrilegious or something?’

‘Not at all. I am only curious as to what has made you seem happy lately?’

She could have answered a week of nights making passionate love with the Mirabelle’s handsome new major shareholder, but of course she didn’t. Only Anita and her husband Grant knew the truth about her relationship with Dante. And they had agreed that the information would stay private until they returned from the month’s break they were all taking while the hotel was being modernised.

The idea of her and Tia travelling to Lake Como the following day with Dante was exciting, but Anna would be lying if she didn’t admit it terrified her too. Having late-night trysts with her lover was one thing, but living together? That was a whole other scenario entirely. And she would be totally on his turf, so to speak—dependent on his kindness and goodwill to see her through, when she was feeling unsure about the prospect of trusting a man long-term and fearing he might want to control her.

But then he had given her his promise that he wouldn’t try and push her into anything she wasn’t ready for, she remembered.

‘I suppose I’m just happy at being able to take a whole month off to spend with Tia,’ she answered Luigi, poignantly realising it was an event that had not occurred since her daughter was a newborn baby. And if it wasn’t for Dante, it wouldn’t be happening at all.

Taking a couple of steps towards the chef, she clutched the paper with the menu written on it to her chest. ‘A little bird told me that you’re going to Provence for a French cookery course…is that true, Luigi?’

With a dismissive flourish of his hand, he sheepishly lowered his gaze. ‘Signor Romano suggested it, and is paying for me to go. If we want to get a Michelin star for the Mirabelle then of course I will do it…even if French cooking is not my subject of choice. But I am surprised that a fellow Italian can be so enthusiastic about the cooking of another nation!’

‘Mr Romano is well travelled and wise, Luigi. And being able to diversify the menu will help our lunchtime trade and maximise sales, so it’s great that you’re going to Provence.’ Anna patted his arm encouragingly. ‘You’ll love it, I’m sure.’

‘We will see.’

After a car journey to Heathrow, then a four-hour plane journey, followed by another car ride on which they took a detour for an hour to eat at a charming restaurant Dante knew, they finally arrived at his five-storey villa in Lake Como.

It was situated in prime viewing position at the lake, on a high-banked sward where the last rays of the sun played upon the surface of the water, giving it the appearance of glinting diamonds. The scent of bougainvillaea, azalea and other heady blossoms floated on the balmy Mediterranean air, rustling through Anna’s unbound hair and lightly teasing Tia’s wild corkscrew curls. Both females studied the house in its fairy-tale surroundings in silent awe. Having retrieved their luggage from the boot of the Mercedes that had been waiting for them at the airport, Dante stepped up beside Anna and slid his arm around her waist. As was becoming a habit, his touch electrified her.

‘It’s a stunningly beautiful house, Dante,’ she remarked, shyly meeting his searching blue-grey glance.

‘And it will be made even more beautiful by the presence of my two beautiful girls,’ he asserted warmly.

It totally made her melt when he said things like that. Her heart was already his, but when he let his guard down and spoke what seemed to be his true feelings out loud Anna honestly felt as if she would follow him to the ends of the earth and back, and not care what discomfort or challenges confronted her so long as she could confront them with him.

‘Is this our new house, Daddy?’ Tia piped up beside them.

For answer, Dante scooped the little girl up into his arms and planted a loud, affectionate kiss at the side of her cheek. ‘This is our house in Italy, mia bambina.’ He grinned. ‘But we have other homes around the world too.’

Mentally, Anna gulped. Having called her cosy basement flat in Covent Garden home for the past eight years, it was quite some dizzying leap to realise that if she and Tia were to live permanently with Dante they would be moving around quite a lot. And if the other properties he owned had anything like the stunning architecture and formidable size of this one then Anna could possibly be feeling overwhelmed for a very long time indeed!

‘Let’s go inside, shall we?’

‘What do you think of the place now that you’ve had a couple of hours to acclimatise yourself?’

Dante walked up behind her as Anna stood on the balcony off the drawing room, gazing out at the stunning lake view. With a breathtaking vista of the Alps in the distance, it was guaranteed to capture all her attention. Even breathing in the warm Mediterranean air acted like a soothing salve. It made her realise how much in need of a holiday she’d been for ages.

After kissing Tia a loving goodnight, and tucking her into bed in her new bedroom, she’d been standing here ever since Dante had gone upstairs to read her a bedtime story. Now her heart leapt as he walked onto the balcony to join her. Gesturing in disbelief at the lake, with its perfectly serene surface and the twinkling lights reflected on the water from some of the surrounding buildings now that night was falling, she slowly shook her head.

‘Sometimes words are inadequate, and this is one of those times. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more stirring or sublime scene.’

‘Well, it’s yours to enjoy for however long you want… you know that.’

She fell silent.

‘Come inside and sit down,’ he invited—but not before Anna registered what might have been uncertainty in his eyes.

Re-entering the elegant lamplit room, which was full of stunning antiques and sublime paintings, with a huge fireplace inlaid with white marble at its head, Anna smiled.

‘I feel like I’m on the movie set of a film about some sophisticated Italian noble. There’s so much beauty here that I can hardly take it in.’

‘You are right. There is so much beauty.’

His low-voiced comment was loaded with meaning—meaning that Anna couldn’t fail to comprehend. She couldn’t glance at him without wanting him, and knew that no matter how much she tried to contain her desire he must see it in her eyes every time their gazes met.

Gesturing, she sat on the sumptuous sofa. Dante joined her. Gathering her slender palm into his, for a while he just simply turned it over and examined it—just as if it were some priceless jewel he was contemplating purchasing.

‘I don’t know how you can ever bear leaving this place,’ she remarked, her heart quietly thudding. ‘It’s like paradise on earth.’

‘For a long time I couldn’t see it that way. But lately I’ve begun to see how lucky I am being able to have a home here.’

‘Is this where you’re from? Como, I mean? ‘

He let go of her hand.

‘No. I bought this house because my mother loved Como and had a home here. When I was young she always fantasised about living here one day…but the truth is that she was a very simple and contented soul, and would have been happy anywhere as long as she knew I was happy.’

‘She sounds wonderful.’

Dante smiled. ‘She was.’

‘So where were you raised, if not here?’ Anna prompted him gently.

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