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Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss
‘Alla salute!’
‘What are we toasting?’
‘The welcome end to a very successful evening,
I think.’
As he pulled out a chair at a table for two, positioned on the terrace overlooking the olive groves, the peaceful Mediterranean night with its array of stars wrapped itself around them in a glittering dark stole. Fabian took a sip of his sambuca, savouring with pleasure the burst of warm aniseed that flooded his tastebuds. Opposite him, Laura took an experimental sip of the liqueur that was his personal favourite, and ran the tip of her tongue round her sweetly shaped top lip. A singular tightening gripped him low in his belly, and the quiet but forceful thrum of sexual need lit a match to his already heated blood.
Aurelia had done her best to entice him away to her own villa for the night, and had left in a huff when he’d refused her. But there was only one woman who interested Fabian enough right now for him to want to spend the night with, and that was the slender grey-eyed blonde, with her air of fragility yet uncommon strength too, in front of him.
‘Why welcome?’ she asked now, the thin stem of her liqueur glass positioned carefully between finger and thumb.
‘Because …’ he drawled, with a non-committal shrug. The protective wall he automatically employed when it came to his past had slammed into place. Now that the whole event was over there was a strong need in him to put it behind him and concentrate on the immediate future instead. A future in which he had certain hopes he was anxious would come to fruition.
‘Because what? Why won’t you talk to me about it?’
‘I would much rather talk about something else. Such as the proposal I made to you. Do you have an answer for me yet?’
Not welcoming the uncertainty that gripped him suddenly, Fabian broodingly examined Laura’s face, to try and ascertain whether her answer was going to be positive or negative. He strove hard to contain his own impatience. Sighing softly, she returned her glass to the table.
‘Before we discuss that, I’d like to know why you seemed so on edge about the concert. You indicated before that your father was cruel … Holding these concerts on his behalf must bring back some less than happy memories for you, I’m sure?’
‘Happy?’ he mocked. ‘That is not an adjective that I would use to describe anything remotely associated with my father! In our home, he ruled like a dictator!’ The words left him with all the brute force of a fist slamming into his gut. ‘No … remembering him does not make for happy memories, Laura! How could it? My mother and I were nothing but possessions to him … like ornaments he could move from room to room, or crush beneath his boot if he so willed!’
Tipping back his head, he drained the liqueur glass dry in one swallow. As the effect of the alcohol hit, Fabian let the still painful memories briefly resurface.
‘To the outside world he was a man to admire … to envy. He had power, wealth, a beautiful wife and a son. But to us he was everything opposite to that. He used to show me off to his friends, praise me and build me up in their presence so that they would see how devoted he was as a parent. But when we were alone again he would beat me for letting him down! For shaming him with my ingratitude and surly looks! My mother was worn down by his cruelty and disdain, and it was no surprise to me when she became ill. She never recovered. I think she was pleased to be leaving this world in the end, and going to a place where he could not follow!’
‘But surely she didn’t want to leave her only child behind with such a man? Oh, Fabian! Why didn’t she just leave him? Get a divorce so that the two of you could have had a better life without him?’
‘That was never a possibility. My mother did not believe in divorce. Her faith dictated that she had made her bed and she should lie in it, and so she suffered in silence …’ His lips twisted derisively, indicating he was a million miles away from agreeing to such useless and pointless sacrifice. ‘Although I am sure she did not believe that I should suffer too, she was probably too weary to fight what she saw as an inevitable conclusion to the whole sorry scenario. Anyway … Roberto would have killed her before he would ever let her humiliate him by leaving him … never mind allowing her to take me with her!’
At his words, the colour seemed to drain out of Laura’s face. He supposed a sensitive woman like her would be even more appalled by the brutish behaviour of a man like his father than most. Especially after what she had endured at the hands of her own bullying husband.
‘I feel for you, Fabian. Your childhood must have been a particularly tough one, having to deal with such a harsh situation.’
‘And that is why I intend to be a very different father to my own children. Which brings me back to the subject I would very much prefer to discuss.’
Refilling their glasses with more sambuca, Fabian was anxious to bring the topic to a swift and thankful close.
‘You have gone very quiet, Laura … is anything wrong?’
‘I am just sad that you suffered so as a child … I almost can’t bear to think of it!’ ‘You have a soft heart.’
The small boy hidden away inside him leapt in gratitude and recognition at the kindness in her words … Yet he could not let her see how deeply they affected him.
‘It’s human to empathise with another’s pain,’ Laura went on, ‘and if I had one wish it would be that no child in this world had to suffer! But if the harsh treatment from your father has made you vow to be a much better one … then something good can come out of it. I’ve learned that there are lessons in everything, and whether we like it or not adversity tempers us. All the illusions fall away, and we get to appreciate what’s important in life.’
For a woman so young, she had unexpected wisdom, and Fabian couldn’t help but silently affirm that when it came to choosing the perfect wife and mother of his children … he had surely made the right decision in asking Laura to fulfil that role.
‘By the way,’ she asked, ‘why did you kiss me onstage, in front of everybody?’
‘Because you looked like a rabbit caught in headlights, and I wanted to put you at ease.’
‘Oh …’
‘And it was also an ideal opportunity to let people know that I am personally interested in you. One more thing …’
‘What?’
‘You have a very sinful mouth, Laura … did you not know that?’
She blushed, as Fabian had known she would, but composed herself quickly. ‘There’s something else I need to ask you.’ Her bottom lip was suddenly coming under unfair treatment from her teeth. ‘Are you having an affair with Aurelia Visconti?’
He laughed harshly. As attractive and talented as the demanding diva might be, he had no desire to take their relationship any further than friendship—despite Aurelia’s many efforts to persuade him differently. Besides, she was far too showy and self-centred for his taste—and no doubt promiscuous too. He had already lived with a woman who was frighteningly similar. A woman who had done much more than just flirt with some of Fabian’s business associates behind his back, and who had made him look like the biggest fool who ever lived! No … considering the highly desirable qualities of the serene young woman in front of him, Aurelia posed no competition for his attention whatsoever. ‘No. I am not.’
‘So did she really have another engagement tonight, when she didn’t turn up for the supper party?’
‘The truth is she wanted me to spend the night with her and I refused,’ Fabian answered bluntly.
‘You weren’t tempted … not even for a moment? There was a lipstick mark at the side of your jaw.’ Seeing her uneasiness at relating this, Fabian felt a bolt of satisfaction rocket through him, and he had the sudden realisation she might be jealous.
‘Was there? The result of a very ordinary buonanotte between friends. That is all.’
‘I know the marriage you have proposed is somewhat different from the norm, Fabian … but I definitely could not tolerate my husband having an affair!’
‘I am not an unfaithful man, and there will be no need for an affair when we start to live together, Laura. You will be quite enough woman for me, I am sure!’
‘But—’
‘You doubt this?’ He frowned. ‘Let us try a little experiment, shall we?’
He was smiling as he left his chair and went over to draw her to her feet. Feeling her tremble, he dampened his forefinger with some sambuca from her glass, then traced the outline of her lips with aching slowness. The soft, shocked rasp of her breath feathered over him. Moulding his hands to the shape of her hips, he felt the sensuous fabric of her gown reveal the delicate but pleasingly sexy way she was made.
Immediately aroused, Fabian nonetheless did not allow the fiery burst of passion in his blood to dictate he demonstrate his hunger in a way that might be overwhelming. Instead, he kissed the woman in his arms with the same infinite patience and attention to detail as a dedicated watercolourist touching just the tip of his brush to a delicate petal on a stem. Stroking his palms over her breasts, he secretly thrilled to feel the instantaneous hardening of their previously soft tips against his skin. For a while he simply luxuriated in the deeply sensual pleasure this gave him, not wanting the delicious sensations to end, and soon the fire that had been simmering so provocatively within ignited into full powerful flame.
Drawing Laura hard against his chest, Fabian kissed her with every bit of need, want and lust that begged for fulfilment inside him. When he finally withdrew his mouth from hers, he saw with fierce satisfaction that her stunning grey eyes were drowsy and glazed with equal voracity and need.
‘I trust I have proved to you that you need not worry about other women as far as I am concerned, Laura? There is a powerful chemistry between us … si? A chemistry that will ensure that you are the one who will have all my attention once we are married!’ Possessively claiming her hips, he dragged her even closer to his aching, hard body.
‘Chemistry is one thing, Fabian,’ she replied, with a catch in her voice, her sweet perfume driving his already impossible desire to the point where it was almost too hard to contain, ‘but there is much more to a successful partnership or marriage than that.’
‘I understand you have concerns … but right now, Laura, I confess I have only one thing on my mind.’
‘But—’
‘Touch me.’
Taking her hand, he guided it down between their bodies to the erection behind the discreet zip fastening of his trousers, and heard her sharp intake of breath. But she didn’t pull her hand away. Fabian saw her bite her lip, as if battling to deny the demanding primal need that was clearly coursing through her veins too. He smiled lazily, knowing intuitively that this was a fight she had no chance of winning.
Lowering his voice seductively, he played with a wayward tendril of her hair. ‘In bed I will make all your worries melt away, sweet Laura, until you can think of nothing else but the pleasure we are giving each other!’
Gazing up at him with a vulnerability that suddenly arrowed straight into his temporarily unguarded heart, she softly replied, ‘That’s just what I’m afraid of.’
Settling his arm around her waist, Fabian drew her away from the enchanted terrace and down a network of quiet marble corridors to the cool, dimly lit enclave of his bedroom.
He’d stripped off his jacket, shirt and tie, and kicked off his shoes. His feet were bare once more, and no socks were in evidence. But Laura’s enthralled gaze did not linger on Fabian’s feet for long. Not when the stunning perfection of his firmly muscled chest, broad athletic shoulders and rock-hard stomach riveted her attention like some breathtaking vision suddenly appearing before her. He was so incredibly beautiful.
Confronted with the reality of this fact, Laura felt her apprehension at the thought of exposing her own wounded, less than perfect body to him make all her muscles clench with fear. She backed away until her legs came into contact with the huge sleigh bed with its burgundy silk sheets behind her. She gasped in surprise, and suddenly Fabian was there before her, smiling that deep slow smile into her shy eyes and making her dissolve even before he got her into bed.
He tipped up her chin. ‘I only want to make you feel good … There is nothing to fear.’
It was as though he had read her mind, and a jolt of surprise flashed through her. Transfixed, she watched as he lowered his head and, moving aside some of the fabric of her dress, pressed his lips onto the raised tissue of puckered skin that was revealed. She shook as though she would never stop. ‘Bella,’ he murmured.
She thought her heart would overflow. Bending lower, he reached for the hem of her dress and lifted it over her head without obstruction. The brush of silk travelling over Laura’s body seemed to inflame the heat that already seemed too hot to contain inside her. Her beautiful haute couture dress discarded, Fabian closed the gap between them and brought that incredible chest of his flush against hers. The sensation of skin against skin was like an electrical charge that made her dizzy. Everything in Laura ached to reach out and demand more.
Their intimate proximity seemed to have the same feverish effect on him. A little push and her bottom suddenly made contact with the sensual silk of the bedspread. Dropping down onto his haunches, Fabian carefully removed her shoes, unfastening their delicate emerald-green straps whilst all the while maintaining devastating eye contact with her hypnotised glance. Leaning over her where she sat, the tips of his tarnished gold hair tickling her skin, he dropped a provocative little kiss at the side of her mouth, then another one against her throat. The trembling that gripped her seemed to increase in magnitude.
Reaching for the zip of his trousers, he freed the waistband and swiftly removed them. He did the same with the ebony silk boxer shorts he wore underneath.
In awe, Laura gazed at the bronzed, firmly muscled toned skin that this action revealed, her mouth stripped of all moisture when she registered the startling evidence of his desire, and how generously he had been made.
With a knowing little smile, Fabian put his hand in the centre of her chest and tipped her back completely onto the bed. Just a brief second later and he was covering her with that incredible body, pressing her deep into the sensuous fabric beneath her, taking her mouth in a kiss that demanded everything she had to give and much more besides. With the most erotic of touches he skimmed his palms seductively across the bared satin surface of her breasts, his blue eyes intensely engaged by the sight of them. Then he lifted his head to look straight into Laura’s eyes.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he breathed.
‘When you look at me that way … I feel it,’ she replied, her heart racing. Mark had never told her she was beautiful … he’d always been too busy pointing out her inadequacies.
In another searing hard kiss Fabian’s demanding mouth met hers. His breath was hot and his tongue was erotically silky. Laura thought her desire would burst at the seams if he did not give her what she ached for soon. This man—this self-contained, unashamed denouncer of love, fighting a silent war with his past—this paradoxical man with his heavensent looks and melting eyes who longed for children of his own but not a wife he could love—had released something inside her she’d almost forgotten might be there. Something pent-up and necessary that she’d long suppressed throughout her devastatingly difficult and painful marriage to Mark.
Now, as Fabian murmured in her ear and then reached for the protection he had in his trouser pocket, she watched him roll it on over his aroused sex with bated breath. Returning to her swiftly, to drag her white silk panties urgently down over her legs, he moved her silken thighs apart with his knee and pressed deep inside her—filling and scalding her with his demanding length. Her back arched at the impact, heat ripping through her like a fire bent on consuming everything in its path, and she knew she would never forget their first intimate connection if she lived to be a hundred!
Laura clutched the smooth hard biceps that bulged like iron as he thrust into her, rocking her body in the primal rhythm of this most intimate act, secretly delighting in the feminine power that she wielded over him in that moment. It made her forget that she wasn’t beautiful all over, that she had scars that would be with her for the rest of her life … both inside and out. Fabian was murmuring seductively to her in his own passionate tongue, and although Laura did not understand everything he said, the sound and intense expression of the words made her blood sing. Willingly she surrendered to the avalanche of feelings that seemed to hold her in thrall and build inside her, and as he drove into her again and again, holding her fast against him, she was unable to stop herself from crying her pleasure out loud to the softly cloaked night.
‘You cannot hold back now, my beautiful Laura.’
‘Fabian … what you’re doing to me!’
‘Tell me …’ he whispered, before he put his mouth to her breast and sucked hard. ‘What am I doing?’
‘You’re making me … You’re making me—’
She gasped as waves of honeyed heat flowed violently through her and then, as they ebbed, turned into a sweet, languorous half-dream that meant she could barely bring herself to move. But at the same time she had the notion that she had never been more awake or aware in her entire life before.
‘Don’t move,’ Fabian ordered gruffly, before thrusting into Laura one last time and groaning his own intense satisfaction as his head fell forward between her breasts.
‘I couldn’t move even if I wanted to,’ she whispered, her lips edging into a smile.
‘Marry me,’ he said, raising his head, want and need flaring bright in his eyes.
A crescendo of longing swept through Laura’s heart. How could she think of refusing him when he was everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man? She might be judged weak and too reckless for words, accepting such a proposal from him, but her feelings had a life and a mind of their own, and they were far too powerful to ignore.
She thought about the small boy who’d suffered such a hurtful childhood—ill-treated by his father and losing his mother far too young—and at the same time she thought about Fabian’s need to redress the balance by being a good father to a child or children of his own. And Laura thought about her own fierce need to be a mother.
‘All right,’ she heard herself say. ‘I will.’
Lifting her hand, she stroked the thick tarnished gold strands of his temptingly silky hair, and he turned his lips into her palm and kissed her. Sensing her heart swell with emotion, she knew that she’d reached her decision long before he’d felt moved to ask her the question again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘WE SHOULD go to Roma.’ ‘Rome?’
‘Si—I have an apartment there. We can have a short holiday and take the opportunity to spend some time alone together. I will show you all the places and sights that the tourists like to see, and some of the not so famous ones that only the locals know about … Sound good?’
‘It sounds wonderful … But, Fabian?’
‘You have reservations about this idea?’
He said all this as he was dressing, and as Laura watched him button up his immaculate white shirt over that heavenly chest, with its slick, solid musculature, she felt as if she was suspended in some euphoric dream she never wanted to wake up from.
The past two weeks had been a whirl of organisation and activity, with an emotional trip back to England for Laura to spend time with her parents before returning to Tuscany and an impatient Fabian back at the Villa de Rosa. Her family had been dumbstruck she’d made such a shock decision to remarry—and to a man she ‘barely knew’. She’d just about convinced them she really did know what she was doing, and had not finally succumbed to a breakdown after all that had happened.
The civil ceremony for Laura and Fabian’s marriage had taken place just yesterday. Their two witnesses had been a supportive and excited Carmela, back from honeymoon—she believed Laura and her enigmatic boss to be genuinely in love—and Maria. The charming Cybele had been a flower girl, and afterwards just a few select friends of Fabian’s had been invited to a discreetly located restaurant for the wedding supper.
But the future she faced was no romantic walk into the sunset with the man she adored. Despite his amorous attentions and apparent concern for her welfare, Fabian had not married Laura because he loved her. He had married her because he desperately wanted an heir and she was the most suitable candidate.
Now, with just a sheet to cover her, she sat on the edge of the fabulous bed in their room and tried hard to put her thoughts in order. Events had run away with her, and it was time to take a good look at exactly what she’d done. From now on she was no longer ‘anonymous’ Laura Greenwood, but Signora Moritzzoni of the fabulous Villa de Rosa. Her husband was a wealthy and influential man who commanded respect in this part of the world where he came from—where a family’s name and lineage was everything. Laura would bear his children, and to all intents and purposes be his partner, but she could not expect ever to receive his love or devotion in return.
Her stomach plunged at the thought. Her feelings for him made the whole idea of this marriage of convenience a farce. How long could she keep up the charade of containing them when that was clearly not what Fabian wanted or expected? After the experience she’d literally only just survived with Mark, why had she been so utterly reckless as to dance so close to the volcano’s edge again? The answer was that she’d married Fabian because after the trauma of the past few years she still dared to dream that a bright future might be hers. He wasn’t anything like Mark … She knew that. There was something special about him that was nothing to do with wealth, status, talent or even the extraordinary beauty he possessed that would stop any woman in her tracks.
And, although it grieved Laura that he had referred to the proposed trip to Rome as a ‘short holiday’, and not the romantic honeymoon she secretly longed for it to be, she was determined to take each day at a time and cherish that dream of hers no matter what.
‘I don’t have any reservations. It’s just that after last night—’
‘Last night was beautiful.’
With a grin that was part cat-that-got-the-cream and part unashamed seducer, Fabian was suddenly in front of her, urging her to her feet. He teasingly kissed the tip of her nose, his hypnotic azure gaze and clean masculine smell sending shivers of appreciation and want cascading through Laura’s body all over again.
‘We didn’t get much sleep—I know that!’ Trying to delicately extricate herself, when his hands were busy impelling her hips towards his, she grabbed hold of the sheet and held it fast, so that there was no danger of it slipping down.
‘It was our wedding night … did you really expect to sleep?’ he mocked gently.
‘Perhaps not … but right now I need some time to relax and get my head together. I feel almost dizzy with all that’s happened!’
‘Well, Signora Moritzzoni … we will breakfast on the terrace by the orangerie, and you can take all the time you want to think about events. Yesterday went well, no?’
‘Yes … it went very well.’
‘And there is nothing worrying you?’
‘Only that you don’t regret what we’ve done? Getting married, I mean? What if you meet somebody you really fall in love with, Fabian? Have you thought of that? You might grow to resent tying yourself to me then!’
‘You are such a foolish little romantic, my sweet Laura!’