The Boss's Christmas Seduction: Unlocking her Innocence / Million Dollar Christmas Proposal / Not Just the Boss's Plaything

Vito flew back to the castle in his helicopter, warned the pilot he would be returning to London within the hour and strode from the helipad towards the front door. There he spotted Damien Skeel lounging up against the bonnet of his four-wheel estate vehicle and he frowned.

‘I suppose you don’t happen to know where Ava is?’ Damien asked hopefully. ‘I was supposed to pick her up at one but apparently she went out and she must have forgotten about the arrangement.’

‘Where were you taking her?’ Vito was relieved that he was neither insecure nor possessive when it came to women. Growing up with an emotionally unstable father had taught him to despise such behaviour.

‘To choose the Christmas tree for the castle from the estate plantation,’ his estate manager informed him with a smile. ‘And I hoped to fit in lunch.’

Ava was still keeping their affair a big dark secret, Vito registered, and his dark golden eyes smouldered at the realisation. He breathed in slow and deep. ‘I’ll choose the tree with her tomorrow,’ he heard himself declare.

The blond man frowned in surprise but nodded coolly. ‘If you see her, tell her I was sorry to miss her.’

Not as sorry as you might have been had you not missed her, Vito reflected with gritted teeth. There were times when Ava infuriated him and this was one of those occasions. Was she attracted to Skeel? Was that why she refused to acknowledge her relationship with Vito? His lovers usually went out of their way to boast about sharing his bed. Given the smallest opportunity they showed him off like a prize and proudly posed by his side for photos. But not Ava. Ava attached no strings and imposed strict boundaries. He was, in retrospect, amazed that he had been invited to share her bed. She never, ever asked him what time he would get back home. And she wouldn’t phone him, didn’t even text. He walked out of the castle in the morning and, for all she knew, he might have been dead five minutes later. But then all that made her one hundred per cent perfect for a guy like him, he reminded himself staunchly. No demands, no avaricious streak, no hidden agenda. What you saw was what you got with Ava and Vito knew how rare a quality that was.

His keen gaze tracked a sudden glimpse of movement on the drive and he registered that it was Ava. On foot and dressed like a bag lady in her jeans and horrible jacket, but even at a distance nothing could outshine her grace of movement or the delicate beauty of her features against her coppery hair. He supposed they were about to have the mother and father of all rows and felt surprisingly insouciant about the fact. He was very focused and persistent when he wanted something, he would wear her down.

‘Ava …’ Vito greeted her from the wide shallow run of steps at the castle entrance.

Lost in a reverie, Ava glanced up and blinked in surprise. Was it that time already? Surely he shouldn’t be home in broad daylight? Like a vampire he was usually only available during the hours of darkness. For a brief moment, she was snatched from her hopeless thoughts by Vito’s sheer charismatic appeal. He was truly stunning from his cropped black-as-night hair to his hand-stitched shoes and designer suit. The minute she saw him she wanted to touch him but always quenched the urge, determined not to feed his ego. If he could be cool, she could be even cooler.

Vito threw his big shoulders back and gave her a blinding smile that in a normal mood would have made her suspicious. ‘We’re going shopping …’

Her lashes fluttered because she didn’t know what he was talking about and really couldn’t be bothered asking for clarification. Everything felt so far removed from her that a glass wall might as well have separated them.

‘And since you’re here, let’s leave right now,’ Vito proposed, descending the steps and closing a hand over hers.

It was second nature to Ava to yank her hand free and say in dismay, ‘No—someone might see—’

‘It’s not like I’m trying to shag you on the front lawn!’ Vito flamed back.

‘Don’t be crude,’ Ava told him.

Vito expelled his breath in a furious hiss. He thought of all the years he had spent with normal women, greedy, vain, untrustworthy women, who would never have dreamt of pushing him away. And then there was Ava. He stopped dead and closed his arms round her like a prison.

‘What you … doing?’ she mumbled, all at sea again, an odd distracted air about her.

Vito took advantage. He never failed to take advantage when the right opportunity offered because Ava didn’t drop her defences very often. He scooped her up against him so that her feet parted company with the ground and brought his mouth crashing down on hers with devouring eroticism, and that explosion of high-voltage sensation broke through her barriers and she blinked in bewilderment, suddenly depth-charged out of her state of shock. His tongue snaked against hers and a helpless shiver ran through her. He was so incredibly sexy, she thought dimly, swept away by the throbbing swelling of her breasts and the hot dart of pulsing warmth between her thighs. He just touched her and she wanted to chain him to the bed. He rocked against her, letting her know that he was equally aroused, and that was when she recalled that they were still in full view of the castle windows and she shimmied down the length of him like a fleeing cat.

‘No! I don’t want to be seen doing this with you!’

They were already more than halfway to the helicopter. Vito decided not to make an issue of it, although where had not making an issue of Harvey got him? Harvey kept on giving him a paw and nudging him expectantly. Harvey was pushy, desperate to be noticed now that he was sentenced to sleeping downstairs at night, and he stalked Vito round the castle when he was at home. ‘He likes you,’ Ava had said appreciatively but it was not an honour that Vito had sought.

‘Where are we going?’ Ava prompted suddenly.

‘London … shopping,’ Vito proffered casually, wondering why she wasn’t putting up a fight about the prospect.

‘In a helicopter?’ Her head ached with the force of the self-discipline she was utilising to hold her flailing emotions in check.

‘It’ll give us more time.’

‘I’m not really in the mood.’

‘It’s your birthday tomorrow. This is my treat,’ Vito pronounced.

Presumably he wanted to buy her a present and if he had organised the trip for her benefit she didn’t want to be difficult about it.

‘Is there anything wrong? You’re very quiet,’ Vito commented, leaning down to do up her seat belt for her when she ignored the necessity.

‘Thanks.’ Ava forced a smile, striving to behave normally. ‘No, there’s nothing wrong.’

The helicopter rose noisily into the air. Nothing short of physical force would have dragged the truth from Ava about what she had learned from Thomas Fitzgerald earlier that day, she conceded painfully. Apart from the embarrassing reality that the older man still worked for Vito, such a private and wounding revelation had no place in a casual relationship. That was not what she and Vito were about and she would adapt to the sordid discovery that she would never know who her birth father was without anyone’s help. But a shopping trip …? Strange, she reflected wearily. She had always assumed that most men didn’t like shopping, but at least the pastime would provide a useful distraction from the burden of her unhappy thoughts.

Vito had requested that a personal shopper meet them at Harrods. He cast a questioning glance at Ava as the woman tried to engage her in a discussion about her likes and dislikes but Ava’s responses were few and her lack of interest patent. Determined to make the most of the occasion, Vito got involved, chose his favourite colours, nodded and shook his handsome head when outfits were displayed on hangers and freed from the threat of Ava’s interference, announced that everything was required. With all the animation of a shop window dummy, Ava tried on several garments. That achieved, the outfits began to pile up because Vito shopped as fast as he worked. The personal shopper called in two co-workers to help while Ava continued to hover in an apparent world of her own. Vito stifled his exasperation and decided that unlike most women she had little interest in what she wore. Handbags and shoes joined the pile, along with a beautiful green velvet designer gown, which Vito knew at a glance would be perfect for the party. In the lingerie department, determined to see the back of the gingham pyjamas, he looked to Ava to finally take part in the proceedings because he could not credit that she would let him do the choosing, and he was stunned to see that silent tears were rolling down her cheeks. She seemed totally unaware that she was crying in a public place …

CHAPTER EIGHT

AT Vito’s request they were shown into a room with seating and the concerned team assisting them promised to rustle up a cup of tea.

His hands on her slim shoulders, Vito settled Ava down into an armchair as if she were a sleepwalker. He lifted a handful of tissues from a box on the table and pushed them down into her tautly clenched hands. ‘Per l’amor di Dio … what has happened?’ he demanded, gazing down at her.

Ava pressed a tissue to her face to dab it dry and wiped her eyes. ‘Nothing,’ she said gruffly. ‘I’m sorry—’

‘No, I’m sorry I dragged you out when there’s obviously something very wrong. I should have seen that you were acting strangely,’ he ground out rawly. ‘This was supposed to be a treat, not an endurance test that distresses you, bella mia—’

Ava stared woodenly down at her knotted hands. ‘I’m really sorry … how embarrassing for you to have me behaving like that in public. I’m surprised you didn’t walk off and leave me.’

Vito crouched down in front of her and tilted up her chin so that he could better see her reddened blue eyes and the pink tip of her nose. ‘Am I that much of a bastard? I will admit to a split second of very masculine panic but that’s all.’

Ava encountered beautiful dark golden eyes fever bright with frustration. He hated being out of the loop: she knew that much about him. ‘It’s not something I can talk about, I’m afraid. I’m all right now, though. The pressure inside me just built up too high and I didn’t even realise I was crying.’

‘Are you pregnant?’ Vito demanded with staggering abruptness.

Ara was taken aback by the question, an involuntary laugh was dredged from her tight throat. Evidently that was his biggest fear. ‘Of course I’m not and as we’ve only been together a week, how could I possibly be pregnant?’ she whispered just as a knock sounded on the door. ‘Or even know that I was?’

‘It happens,’ Vito said darkly, thinking of Olly, whom his father had sworn had been conceived after a single night. He vaulted upright to open the door and accept the cup of tea that had arrived, settling it down on the table by her side.

‘We’ve been too careful. That’s not the problem,’ Ava told him dully as she sipped gratefully at the refreshing brew.

‘But what is the problem?’ Vito growled.

‘It’s nothing to do with you or our relationship and I’m getting over it already,’ Ava insisted staunchly, wiping her eyes with determination and blowing her nose, still wincing at the embarrassment of having lost control to such an extent in front of him. ‘You see? I’m absolutely fine.’

‘You’re anything but fine,’ Vito contradicted without hesitation. ‘You’re not yourself at all. Let’s finish up and get out of here, but don’t think you’ve heard the last of this. I need to know what’s wrong.’

Her face tightened. ‘We don’t have that kind of relationship.’

‘What kind of a relationship do we have?’ Vito shot back as she set down the tea and stood up, composed again.

‘Fun, casual,’ she declared.

Dark colour highlighted his strong cheekbones. ‘I can handle problems.’

‘You couldn’t handle this one and why would you want to anyway?’ Ava asked frankly. ‘It’s not like this is the romance of the century or serious or anything!’

Vito went rigid, his hard jawline clenching, his wide sensual mouth compressing into a surprisingly thin line.

‘And now you’re offended because I’m not supposed to be that blunt, and maybe you’d just like to say goodbye to me here right this minute!’ Ava completed on a rising note of anger.

At that invitation, Vito’s eyes flamed burning gold. ‘Che cosa hai? What’s the matter with you?’

‘I’m giving you an escape route.’

‘Shut up,’ Vito told her in a seethingly forceful undertone.

Ava drew herself up to her full five feet four inches. ‘What did you just say to me?’ she demanded.

‘Zip it!’ Vito bit out with unmistakable savagery. ‘Let me tell you what we are going to do. We will complete the shopping trip and leave.’

Ava parted her lips, ready to let loose another volley of the angry aggression that had come out of nowhere to power her mood. Without warning, a rush of screaming anxiety engulfed her next, when she belatedly appreciated that she was actually trying to talk herself out of staying with him for what remained of the week. To her horror, she couldn’t accept that prospect, couldn’t face the idea of saying goodbye there and then. That acknowledgement shocked her sufficiently into clamping her mouth shut on her dangerously provocative tongue. What the heck was wrong with her? What difference this week or next week? But the threat of separation from Vito managed to flood her with such appalling fear that she couldn’t answer her own question.

‘I’ll take you straight back to the castle when we’re finished,’ Vito pronounced.

She caught a glimpse of them together in a tall mirror and reddened, thinking that she looked more like a messy teenager than a grown woman in her jeans and jacket. He had to be mortified to be seen out and about with a female that badly dressed and all of a sudden, in spite of the emotions still bubbling inside her like a witch’s cauldron, she was ready to make concessions. Her birthday treat? She had thrown his generosity back in his face and wrecked the outing.

Concealing his surprise, Vito watched from a discreet distance as Ava selected lingerie, unwilling to give her an excuse to lose her temper again. What the hell was going on with her? He wondered if he would ever understand her, wondered why he should even want to when he was usually up and out at the first sign of complications in an affair. But she had never been moody with him before. She vanished into a changing room with a bundle of garments.

Ava stripped, glanced in dismay at a couple of tags marked with eye-watering prices and wondered if he was insane to be spending so much money on her when they only had another week together. But it could be a good week just like the first if she could only stop thinking about the ending that would come with it. Her mouth down curved at the lowering thought that she was certainly in the mood to please as she put on a dress: he liked dresses, dropped hints like bricks around her about feminine clothes, loved her legs. And her bottom and her breasts. Just not her! Her eyes prickled. She couldn’t even blame him. His brother was dead because of what she had done. What she had now with Vito was the most she could ever have because he would never be able to surmount that barrier between them.

Vito’s was not the only male head to turn in the vicinity when Ava reappeared, a slim chic beauty in a form-fitting dress, jacket and high heels.

‘Am I allowed to jump you in the limo?’ Vito growled, hot golden eyes pinned to her face.

Ava laughed. She knew she looked good, hadn’t frankly known she could look that good in a new outfit and was very aware that she had him and the helpful saleswomen to thank for it because she had virtually no experience of either choosing or wearing more decorative formal clothes.

‘No,’ she told him, suppressing the memories of Thomas Fitzgerald, her late mother and her wretched childhood. She would get over it, adapt to the new knowledge about herself, much as she had adapted to other things.

Having emerged from the shop, a procession of bags and boxes already piled into the limousine awaiting them, Vito closed an arm round her spine. Suddenly a man called out Vito’s name and he halted in surprise. A blinding flash lit them up and a man with a camera shot them a cheeky smile before taking off into the depths of the milling crowds on the pavement.

‘My word, why did he want to take a picture of us?’ Ava asked as Vito tucked her into the car.

‘He’s probably paparazzi.’ But the incident sent a vague sense of unease filtering through Vito because he was not accustomed to that kind of press intrusion in his life. ‘I can’t imagine why he wanted a photo of us.’

‘He knew your name. You must get a lot of that sort of attention,’ Ava assumed.

‘Usually only in the business papers and if I have a celebrity on my arm, which is rare these days,’ Vito confided, a frown drawing his fine ebony brows together. ‘I’m a very private person. I don’t know what the source of his interest might have been.’

‘I hardly think it was me.’

‘You do look stunning,’ Vito countered reflectively.

Self-conscious colour lit her fair complexion. In her fancy feathers, she felt ridiculously vulnerable. ‘Where are we going now?’

‘You look stunning. I shall keep on saying it until you acknowledge it, bella mia.’

Ava ignored him. She had earned very few compliments in her life and never knew how to handle them. Deep down inside she thought he only said such things because he believed all women expected it and she despised insincerity.

‘I originally planned for us to spend the night in my city apartment.’

‘Didn’t know you had one.’

‘It’s handy when I’m flying in late from abroad or working through the night. But you’re not in the mood for dining and clubbing, are you?’ Vito murmured lazily.

‘I’m in full party-pooper mode,’ Ava admitted with a grimace. ‘Sorry. I’d just like to go—’

‘Home,’ Vito slotted in. ‘When situations change, I adapt quickly.’

Her fingernails curled in silent protest into the wool jacket on her lap. His home, not hers. The locality had nothing to offer her now. She no longer had a home base. So what had changed? she asked herself irritably, angry that she still felt so bruised and alone. The people she had believed were her family until earlier that day had long since made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with her anyway, consequently it was over-sensitive to still be feeling so gutted about it. Suck it up, she told herself irritably.

Studying the tension etched in her delicate profile, Vito wanted to shake Ava like a money box the way you do to extract the last stubborn coin. What was wrong with the rational approach of telling him what the problem was so that he could sort it out? That would settle things and she would return to normal and stop being so polite and silent. Maybe he should have let her dump him. He had never been dumped. Was that why he was still with her even though she was being an absolute pain? She was screwing with his head. He knew she was doing it but had yet to work out how.

Dusk was falling by the time Ava mounted the steps to the entrance of Bolderwood Castle. She walked in the big front door and was instantly enfolded in a ridiculously soothing sense of security. A log fire was crackling in the huge hall grate, flickering warm inviting shadows over the ornamented garlands and the tall ivy-draped glass candle vases on the mantelpiece. It looked beautiful and painfully familiar at one and the same time. She could remember roasting chestnuts by the fire with Olly, laughing when he sang a Christmas song off-key. While she was thinking, Harvey hurtled past her and bounced up to greet Vito first with fawning enthusiasm. Ava looked on without comment, having already accepted that Harvey was, at heart it seemed, a man’s dog, for as soon as Vito had become a regular fixture in Harvey’s life Harvey had firmly attached himself to him.

‘Don’t put hair on me,’ Vito warned the dog, patting his head to make him go away again, but Harvey was a needy dog and he kept on pushing for more.

‘He doesn’t shed hair—we think it’s the poodle in him.’

‘Poodle?’ Vito repeated in disbelief, surveying Harvey, who was a large animal by any standards and very disreputable in appearance with his floppy ears and messy curly coat. ‘Aren’t poodles little and fluffy?’

‘There are big ones too but … Harvey is a mongrel.’

Harvey looked up at Vito with round brown pleading eyes and nudged his thigh again. Vito sighed heavily. ‘All right. He can stay.’

Shaken, Ava stared up at him. ‘For good … here? Are you serious?’

‘I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t,’ Vito imparted wryly.

Ava gave a yelp of delight, hurled herself at Vito and locked her arms round his neck in a display of natural exuberance. ‘You won’t regret it, Vito. He’s very loyal and loving and he’ll protect you if anyone ever threatens you.’

Vito stared down at the animated triangle of her face, transfixed by the complete transformation that had taken place. ‘Nobody has ever threatened me.’

‘He’ll want to sleep beside your bed.’

‘That’s an undesirable trait, Ava.’ But he locked his arms round her slim supple body and drew her up to his level to extract a passionate kiss, noting that her bright blue eyes were almost laughably disconcerted by his sudden unexpected assault. ‘Of course you can sleep beside my bed any time you like … but I’d prefer you in it, gioia mia.’

In that instant being wanted felt unbelievably wonderful to Ava’s battered emotions and in response her own hunger consumed her in a great greedy flood. As Vito toyed with her soft full lower lip, teasing, stroking the delicate interior, she angled her head back, shamelessly inviting more. With an appreciative growl, he curved his strong hands round her bottom and hoisted her up against him, making her violently aware of the fullness of his erection.

‘Bed … now,’ Vito husked against her lush mouth as he carried her upstairs. ‘I can’t wait …’

And secure in his arms, Ava wondered when the attraction between them had become so powerful that her body simply reacted without her awareness, the peaks of her breasts straining full and tight with arousal, the secret place at the heart of her intensely hot. She could no longer control the desperate urgency and need eating her alive from inside out. He set her down on the bed, where she peeled off her jacket, kicked off her high heels and shimmied out of her dress like a shameless hussy eager to meet her fate. He stood in front of her, stripping, and he didn’t stop until he was naked, a lithe bronzed vision of muscular male perfection, uninhibited in his urgent arousal. He leant over her, crushing and tasting her luscious mouth, his tongue dallying, delving deep to ramp up her yearning. And throughout that exercise he was undressing her with deft hands, peeling away her new and delicate floral underwear. Long fingers playing with the protruding pink buds of her breasts, he made her gasp and part her slender thighs, hips digging into the mattress beneath her.

‘You’re so sexy,’ he groaned against her swollen mouth when he lifted her up against him, the long thick column of his erection hot against her stomach. ‘I’ve never wanted a woman like this … I’m burning up.’

He brought her down on her knees on the bed in front of him, reaching down to stimulate the tiny, unbearably sensitive nub at her core. An almost anguished whimper of sound was wrenched from her tight throat. Her breath was coming in shallow pants, her whole body poised on the edge of an anticipation so intense it hurt. He stroked her and she flinched, aching and hypersensitive to the caress.

‘You’re so ready for me, bella mia. That really fires me up,’ Vito growled in her ear as he nudged her thighs further apart, his hands running up and down her slender spine and dropping lower to touch the swollen buds of her breasts.