Italian Bachelors: Steamy Seductions

‘Between the hairstyle and the shoes, you’ve gained about a foot in height, cara mia,’ Dante commented, the very epitome of designer elegance in a well-cut dinner jacket and narrow black trousers. Superbly elegant, he looked, as always, stunning.

‘You suit diamonds,’ he added, noting how the white-fire sparkle of the jewels seemed to reflect the brightness of her dark eyes.

Topsy involuntarily touched the diamonds at her throat. ‘An eighteenth birthday present.’

‘Kusnirovich?’ Dante surmised.

‘Yes.’

‘Obviously you’ve known him a long time,’ Dante commented, oddly irritated by the realisation and resisting an even stranger urge to tell her to take the necklace off. ‘It looks like a very generous gift.’

Topsy simply nodded agreement, not wanting to say anything else and encourage more questions. Naturally he was curious about her friendship with Mikhail, who only socialised in the most exclusive circles, and while she didn’t want to reveal the truth about her wealthy and powerful relatives neither did she want to lie to Dante.

The gilded event at the Uffizi was a true art lovers’ dream. Beautifully dressed people sipping champagne strolled at their leisure through the rooms of magnificent artworks. There was no noise, no queues, no crush to struggle through and this time around she could even appreciate the splendid ornate interior of the building itself.

When she paused rapt before Raphael’s Madonna of the Goldfinch, Dante remarked that she seemed to know exactly what she wanted to view.

‘This is one of my sister’s favourite paintings. She used to be an art restorer in a museum and, when I was growing up, she took me to all sorts of places to see wonderful pieces of art,’ Topsy confided. ‘She wanted to be sure that I got a really well-rounded education and she didn’t quite trust my boarding school.’

‘You attended boarding school?’

Topsy sent him an amused look as she paused in front of Caravaggio’s Bacchus. ‘I was a gifted child and, obviously, I was a scholarship girl. Kat could never have afforded the fees.’

‘How gifted were you?’ Dante prompted.

‘I don’t like talking about that, Dante,’ she admitted quietly. ‘I learn incredibly fast and I have a photographic memory for facts and figures. Let’s leave it there.’

A tall beautiful brunette in pearls and black and white polka-dot silk strolled up to them and addressed Dante with the familiarity of an old friend. Her need to ignore Topsy’s presence told Topsy all she needed to know about the brunette’s true source of interest and she drifted off.

‘Why on earth did you walk off?’ Dante demanded ten minutes later when he finally ran her to ground in the Titian room.

‘She was flirting with you and being rude to me. I don’t waste my time with people like that,’ Topsy told him without apology.

‘We were lovers many years ago,’ Dante admitted with a fluid shrug. ‘She means nothing to me now.’

As soon I will mean nothing, Topsy’s logic supplied, sending a wave of gooseflesh across her exposed skin. Her slim shoulders set back as if she was bracing herself for that day. She knew that their affair lacked the longevity gene. Soon, Dante would head back to the bank headquarters in Milan and Topsy, and having only agreed to work for Sofia for three months, she was returning to London at the end of the summer. He was a holiday fling, she told herself urgently, scanning his perfect profile in a hungry stolen glance. And the end of a holiday fling would sting, not hurt.

* * *

‘That was an amazing experience,’ Topsy assured him when she slid back into his car. ‘I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Kat will be so envious when she hears that I attended a private viewing.’

‘There’s something I want to discuss with you,’ Dante told her softly. ‘I have to fly to Milan tomorrow for forty-eight hours—there’s something of a crisis and I have a government minister to advise. I want you to come with me, gioia mia.’

Dismayed though she was at the prospect of being without him for even that short length of time, Topsy was very practical. ‘That’s impossible. There’s only three days to go to the fancy-dress ball. I can’t possibly leave your mother to deal with any last-minute hitches that might arise.’

‘I heard her say that you’d taken very little time off.’

‘That’s true but that was my choice and it doesn’t mean I’m willing to leave her in the lurch. The ball is a huge amount of work and loads of little things could go wrong.’

‘She has Vittore.’

Tensing at his persistence, Topsy shot him an angry look of reproach. ‘You really don’t like hearing the word no, do you? My answer is no, sorry...and thanks for asking...but no.’

‘It should be yes,’ Dante contradicted harshly, making no attempt to conceal his dissatisfaction with her decision.

‘Arrogant...much?’ Topsy quipped. ‘You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do.’

‘Non importa...no matter,’ he pronounced with dismissive finality, wide, sensual mouth clenching into a hard line.

Well, at least she was seeing all his flaws, Topsy reflected unhappily as she lay alone in her bed for the first night that week. Dante was spoilt by having enjoyed too much attention from over-eager-to-please women. He should not be willing to put her in a difficult position with his mother when they could perfectly well cope with being apart for a mere forty-eight hours.

‘Topsy...?’

In the act of crossing the hall the next morning to head into the dining room for breakfast, Topsy spun and raised an imperious questioning brow when Dante beckoned to her from his study doorway. She was still angry with him and it didn’t help that he was so extraordinarily handsome in his formal dark suit teamed with a very chic fuchsia-pink shirt and black tie that one glimpse of him literally stole the breath from her lungs.

‘A word before I leave?’ he added expectantly.

Unimpressed, Topsy stalked towards him, outraged by his infuriating self-assurance. ‘When you say, “Jump,” I will never say, “How high?”’ she swore in a sizzling undertone.

Instead of answering back, Dante swept her off her feet and up into his arms with the easy strength that always shook her. Linking her arms round his neck, he backed into the study and sealed her mouth to his in a passionately hungry kiss that jolted every skin cell in her treacherous body. ‘You’ll miss me,’ he husked against the swollen contours of her lush mouth. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘But we’ll live,’ Topsy pointed out prosaically.

‘For a woman who wants a romantic male that was a very unromantic comment,’ Dante mocked, eyes dancing with amusement. ‘You’ve brought fun back into my life, cara mia.’

He lowered her slowly and reluctantly to the floor again. Her fingers curled into fists by her side because for the first time in her life she wanted to hurl herself back into a man’s arms but she wouldn’t let herself behave like an adoring schoolgirl. Fun, his word and very revealing it was, she acknowledged grimly. Fun was never serious and never permanent. Fun was a fleeting thing of the moment and appreciated as such.

* * *

The next morning, Topsy had breakfast with Sofia in her private sitting room. With Vittore in Florence, the two women ran over last-minute changes to the seating arrangements for the many celebrities attending the dinner being held before the ball. Topsy noted the name of the woman seated beside Dante.

‘Cosima Ruffini?’ she repeated the name. ‘Why does that name seem familiar?’

The older woman tensed. ‘Perhaps you’ve seen it in a magazine. Cosima is a famous fashion model.’

Topsy nodded, wondering if Cosima was being placed beside Dante to entertain him. Was his mother playing cupid? And if that was the case, it was none of her business. Fun, she reminded herself doggedly, she and Dante were only having fun and temporary fun at that.

‘Topsy...? May I be frank with you?’ Sofia asked rather abruptly.

Topsy glanced up from the list, her mouth still crammed full of delicious melting croissant, and she nodded agreement, wondering what on earth her employer wanted to say.

‘It’s about Dante,’ his mother volunteered. ‘He’s my son and I love him very much but I don’t want you to get hurt.’

Topsy’s croissant suddenly turned to sawdust in her mouth while colour rose hotly to her cheeks. She had thought that she and Dante were being so discreet that nobody would realise there was anything going on and, self-evidently, she had been fooling herself on that score.

‘Dante doesn’t seem to get involved in serious relationships. I worry that he may be what is nowadays called a commitment-phobe,’ Sofia admitted uncomfortably. ‘But he wasn’t always like that.’

Topsy finally managed to swallow and clear her throat. ‘Neither of us is looking for anything serious,’ she hastened to declare.

Her companion lifted her chin and gave Topsy a measured look. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at my son and it worries me.’

Topsy paled, not knowing how to answer that for she knew she was always looking at Dante, always mesmerically drawn to him when he was around, but wasn’t that a physical pull rather than a mental one? She reddened, knowing the distinction was not one she could raise in present company. I only want him for his body would be a conversational killer, she reflected a little hysterically, because Sofia had taken her very much by surprise in opening the subject.

‘Dante’s wife used to look at him the same way,’ the older woman told her softly.

Topsy frowned in disbelief. ‘Wife? His wife?’ she repeated.

‘I see he hasn’t mentioned his marriage.’ Sofia seemed unsurprised by Dante’s oversight in that regard. ‘Dante got married when he was twenty-one. Emilia and he virtually grew up together. She died within a year of their wedding—she walked in front of a car in Florence and she was killed instantly. Dante was inconsolable.’

A tragic experience of first love, Dante ‘inconsolable’. That was a challenging image, which disconcerted Topsy for it had never occurred to her that he might be concealing such a past. ‘He was very young when he married,’ Topsy remarked abstractedly, thinking it typical that Mikhail had chosen to tell her about the three mistresses but not the tragedy that had preceded that change in Dante’s private life. ‘And no, you’re right, he didn’t discuss it with me.’

‘Why would he have? It’s a long time ago. I’m telling you now only because I don’t want you to think too badly of my son. I doubt that he’s ready for an exclusive relationship,’ Sofia opined, ‘but sometimes people do know instantly when they’ve met their perfect match...’

Topsy glanced up again. ‘Do they?’

‘It may have taken Vittore and I thirty years to finally get together but we first met and fell in love when we were sixteen years old,’ Sofia divulged quietly.

Topsy was stunned by that information. ‘Why did you break up?’

Sofia looked sad. ‘Vittore was the son of the town drunk and I was the daughter of the most successful local businessman. My family would never have allowed us to be together. My father owed Dante’s father a great deal of money and when I agreed to marry Aldo, the debt was written off.’

‘That must’ve been horrible for you!’ Topsy breathed in horror.

‘It was but in those days you did as your parents told you.’

‘So, how on earth did you meet Vittore again?’

Sofia grinned. ‘I found him on the Internet and do you know? The minute I saw him it was like the thirty years hadn’t happened and we didn’t want to waste any more time,’ she confided.

‘What does Dante think of that story?’ Topsy frowned. ‘You haven’t told him, have you? But it’s so romantic, Sofia.’

‘Dante is not a romantic man,’ Sofia declared ruefully. ‘He would think us both even more foolish if he knew the truth.’

Touched by that story, Topsy took a while to get back to checking the seating arrangements. Her brain was teeming with busy thoughts. It was a shock to learn that Dante had once been married and that he had gone from losing the wife he loved to taking on three mistresses. Had he tried to bury his pain in rampant sex?

Whatever, Sofia’s warning earlier was kindly meant even though Topsy had not needed it for she’d seen from the start that Dante was not interested in anything more than a fleeting affair. And she was content with that, wasn’t she? She would return to London a lot less ignorant of men and look back on Dante as her first lover with fondness rather than regret. She had no other expectations, absolutely none, she assured herself doggedly, silencing and squashing the cry of pain deep down inside her. If she had accidentally managed to become a little too attached to him she would soon overcome that foolishness.

* * *

In Milan, Dante was frowning and tossing his phone on the desk. He had been candid with Cosima and, to be fair, she had matched his candour. Choice didn’t come into the situation when the PR power of the ball would have a direct effect on the funds being raised. What was he supposed to say to Topsy? But then why was he worrying about saying anything? He reminded himself that Topsy had refused to accompany him to Milan. He didn’t owe her any explanations, nor did he want to take their affair in a direction that implied that he wanted more. Accidenti! He didn’t like complications and hated hassle, particularly with women. Keep it simple, he told himself impatiently. Saying nothing was wiser.

* * *

The night before the ball, Topsy agreed to join Gaetano for a drink in the village café when he rang. She was grateful for the distraction the invite gave because she had repeatedly and pointlessly revisited her decision not to go to Milan with Dante and just as often she had told herself that she would not rearrange her life, ignore her safe boundaries or fall down on the job she was doing simply for Dante’s benefit. She had made the right decision and she had no regrets, and in the same way she wasn’t sitting around waiting for Dante to come home like faithful Penelope. After all, he hadn’t phoned her once since his departure.

Dressed in a bright geometric print shift and high wedge sandals, she skipped down the steps and climbed into Gaetano’s car.

‘I’d have taken you for a meal but I don’t want my family to get the wrong idea and assume we’re dating,’ the builder confided ruefully. ‘Before you know where you are my mother will get the baby albums out.’

‘Your mamma already told me that you had gorgeous curls as a baby,’ Topsy told him with a giggle.

‘Besides, I hear you’re seeing Dante,’ Gaetano commented.

Eyes wide, Topsy swivelled in her seat. ‘Who told you that?’

‘My kid brother saw you walking hand in hand through Florence,’ Gaetano admitted. ‘There’s no such thing as privacy around here, particularly not when it comes to love lives. Gossip is the spice of life.’

Topsy seriously hoped that nobody knew about the picnic in the woods and went pink. ‘Dante and I...well, we’re just a casual thing.’

‘I wouldn’t want to tread on his toes,’ Gaetano confided. ‘When I phoned, I thought you’d say no to coming out.’

‘I don’t even know when Dante’s due home,’ Topsy admitted.

Gaetano asked her what she was wearing to the ball. ‘It’s a glorified maid’s outfit,’ she confided. ‘Sofia wanted me to choose something fancy but basically I’m staff and she’s the hostess, so I thought it made sense to choose something plain.’

‘You could never look plain...’

In a white-hot rage shielded by formidable cool, Dante focused on her vivid little face from across the street. Infuriatingly, she looked as though she was enjoying herself. He had been incredulous when he learned that she had gone out with another man when he was within an hour of coming home and he had been forced to sit through a session of his mother pontificating over whether or not Gaetano could get over his ex quickly enough to properly appreciate Topsy. As far as he was concerned, Topsy needed no other male appreciation. He was convinced that if he left her alone by the side of the road for five minutes he would find her surrounded by men when he came back. Topsy’s je ne sais quoi sexiness and energy were a magnetic draw for the opposite sex.

Topsy very nearly fell off her chair when Dante strode into the café. Within seconds the proprietor was by his side and hurrying off to serve him. She studied Dante, hopelessly greedy for the sheer rush of seeing him again, her heart rate kicking up, a steady tension infiltrating her every muscle. As she met his remarkable green eyes her surroundings vanished into oblivion. It was a severe overreaction to his presence and she knew it was but she couldn’t suppress it. A physical infatuation might have seized hold of her formerly controlled self, but her brain told her she could cope with it as long as she didn’t let it take over entirely.

Gaetano was already cheerfully exchanging talk of the ball with Dante as he sat down, a glass of wine arriving magically fast at his elbow. Topsy glanced across the table at him, noting the heavy black lashes that concealed his eyes, the spectacular bone structure beneath his olive-toned skin. Dante had been married, she found herself thinking afresh. He had promised to love, honour and share with another woman and she had died and he had ended up alone. Alone but for the three mistresses, she reminded herself staunchly, keen not to idealise her image of him. Without warning he looked at her and a surge of unwelcome heat and awareness blossomed between her legs. Conscious her breasts were swelling and her nipples tightening, she sucked in a deep audible breath and soft pink warmed her cheeks.

‘You won’t mind if I take Topsy home,’ Dante murmured to Gaetano.

‘I’ve only had one drink,’ Topsy objected. ‘This is virtually my first break from work in two days.’

‘I own a wine cellar. If you want to drink, you can do it with me.’

‘And what cave did you emerge from?’ Topsy asked sweetly. ‘Obviously it was a very recent move.’

Beside her, Gaetano was trying not to laugh but Topsy wasn’t amused. She didn’t want Dante ordering her around. He didn’t own her, he didn’t have the right to dictate where she went and what she did and even if she had loved him she would have fought him to the death on that issue.

‘Madre di Dio...OK, I should’ve phoned!’ Dante ground out the grudging admission between even white teeth.

‘Perhaps...’ Topsy tossed back, refusing to give ground, her dark eyes veiled as she wondered if he had consciously decided not to phone while he was away, if indeed he was as set as she was on respecting the limits of their relationship. And if she was right in her suspicion, why was he behaving that way? And why change course to chase her down when she wasn’t immediately available?

‘Venga qui...come here,’ Dante breathed in a driven undertone as he suddenly sprang to his feet, six feet plus inches of rippling impatience, extending a lean, elegant hand to pull her upright.

‘See you tomorrow night,’ Gaetano told her with an appreciative grin, saluting them both with his glass as Dante closed an arm round Topsy’s slight shoulders.

‘I hate it when you try and tell me what to do,’ Topsy stretched up to mutter in Dante’s ear as he walked her across the street to his car.

‘It would have caused a scene if I’d just lifted you and carried you out,’ Dante parried in a mild tone that suggested his determination to retrieve her at any cost was perfectly normal.

Inside the car she couldn’t resist any more: she closed her fingers into his luxuriant black hair and dragged his beautiful mouth down to hers. Fireworks went off inside her, instant blazing, wildly colourful fireworks, and the connection left her weak. He pressed her back into the passenger seat. ‘Next time, I’ll phone,’ he promised.

‘Gaetano’s only a friend.’

‘I know. He’s still hoping his ex’s marriage breaks down, so that he can get her back,’ Dante confided with a sardonic twist of his mouth.

They walked back into the castle. There was nobody about. ‘I’m going to get changed,’ Topsy murmured.

Dante scooped her up into his arms on the first landing and carried her up the next flight. ‘We’ll sleep in my room tonight.’

‘But I didn’t say.’

‘I’m so hungry for you, bella mia. I didn’t know two days could seem so long,’ Dante groaned into her hair, the ache in his voice stirring something tender within her.

He settled her down on his huge four-poster bed and she kicked off her shoes, reflecting that it was only a week since he had brought her there and she had walked out again, determined not to succumb. What had happened to that resolve, the strength of her original resistance? Already that night seemed like a lifetime ago. Dante lifted the house phone to order champagne.

‘I don’t need another drink,’ she told him wryly. ‘I only meant that I was enjoying getting out and having some company.’

‘I’m company,’ Dante told her very seriously as he took off his jacket, jerked loose his tie and embarked on his shirt buttons.

‘No, you’re my lover...that’s different,’ Topsy contended. ‘Gaetano and I are friends.’

‘And what are we?’

‘Chance acquaintances having sex,’ Topsy said a little painfully. ‘We fell into this.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ Dante reasoned, flipping her round to run down the zip on her dress. ‘Pre-planning can make life boring.’

‘Funnily enough, I would have said that you plan everything right down to the last detail.’

For a split second, Dante hesitated as he lifted her dress off over her head, his attention dwelling on the glorious swell of her breasts seguing down into her impossibly tiny waist and the voluptuous curve of her bottom. She was right: he usually did plan every move he made. But he hadn’t planned on her. He was willing to admit that she was an anomaly in his life and didn’t fit the usual mould but he wasn’t yet ready to finish the affair. It would end when boredom set in as it always did and when his desire for her no longer drove him.

He caught her to him with impatient hands and his mouth burned on hers. Tasting him, savouring him, she shuddered as he unfastened her bra and stroked her achingly tender nipples. She hadn’t expected the evening to end like this but she wanted him, needed him in a way she had never imagined she would ever need anyone and, even though that was scary, she could not deny herself the incredible exhilaration of being with him again. She pulled off his shirt, her hands relearning the hard masculine contours of his hair-roughened chest, trailing down to cup and tease his urgent erection, already imagining what it would feel like to have him inside her again.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.