Полная версия
Modern Romance July 2015 Books 5-8
Modern Romance July 2015 Books 5-8
Sicilian’s Shock Proposal
Carol Marinelli
Vows Made in Secret
Louise Fuller
The Sheikh’s Wedding Contract
Andie Brock
One Night, Two Consequences
Joss Wood
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
SIGN ME UP!
Or simply visit
signup.millsandboon.co.uk
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Sicilian’s Shock Proposal
Excerpt
Playboys of Sicily
About the Author
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
Extract
Vows Made in Secret
Excerpt
About the Author
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Extract
The Sheikh’s Wedding Contract
Wedding Invitation
Society Weddings
About the Author
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SOCIETY WEDDINGS EXCLUSIVE
STEFAN AND CLIO’S WEDDING DAY
Extract
One Night, Two Consequences
Excerpt
About the Author
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
Copyright
Sicilian’s Shock Proposal
Carol Marinelli
‘I need to think about what I’m prepared to agree to, but before we go any further there is something that you need to know.’ They were face-to-face as Luka said it. ‘I will never marry you.’
‘You’ll do whatever it takes …’
The spitfire he had known was returning, and Sophie jabbed a finger into his chest as if to make her point.
‘Whatever. It. Takes—’
‘No,’ he interrupted calmly.
Despite the cool façade she attempted, he knew that she was as Sicilian as the volcanic soil they were from, and as he watched her struggle to hold in her temper he didn’t suppress his triumphant smile. She was just as volatile and passionate as he remembered. Those traits in Sophie were everything he both loved and loathed.
‘After what you did … after what you said about me in court …’
‘Lose the drama, Sophie.’ His voice was completely calm. ‘I accept that I have a moral debt to you, given all that has happened, but even with several years’ interest added I do not owe you that much. I will agree to be your fake fiancé, but never your fake husband. Know that now, or get out.’
He hoped for the latter. Get out of my life, my head, my heart. Just get out!
Instead Sophie must have accepted his terms, for she sat down again.
It was time to talk business.
Playboys of Sicily
Taming Italy’s most notorious men!
Tycoon Luka might agree to be ex-flame Sophie’s fake fiancé … but at what cost?
Sicilian’s Shock Proposal Available July 2015
Bella hasn’t seen millionaire Matteo since that night. He’s as irresistible as ever, but will he still want her after he discovers her secret?
His Sicilian Cinderella Available August 2015
You won’t want to miss this sizzlingly dramatic new duet from USA TODAY bestselling author Carol Marinelli—available only from Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance!
CAROL MARINELLI is a Taurus, with Taurus rising, yet she still thinks she’s a secret Gemini. Originally from England, she now lives in Australia and is a single mother of three. Apart from her children, writing romance and the friendships forged along the way are her passion. She chooses to believe in a happy-ever-after for all, and strives for that in her writing.
PROLOGUE
‘A WOMAN WHO says she’s your fiancée is in Reception, asking to see you.’
Luka Cavaliere looked up from his computer and saw the wry smile on his PA’s face.
‘I thought I’d heard it all until now,’ said Tara.
Women would try anything to get an audience with Luka, but to have someone pretending to be his fiancée was a first. Tara knew from bitter experience that the woman in Reception was lying—the only thing that Luka ever fully committed to was work.
She certainly wasn’t expecting his response.
‘Tell Reception that she can come up,’ he said in his rich Italian voice.
‘Sorry?’
Luka didn’t respond to Tara’s question. Instead, he got back to the work he was doing on his computer. Certainly he did not need to repeat himself to his PA, nor explain things to her.
‘Luka?’ Still Tara hovered at the door, unable to believe that he knew who this woman was—he hadn’t even asked for her name.
‘Do you want a second warning?’ Luka checked. ‘I have already told you that I should not have to give out my instructions twice.’
‘No, you want to give me a second warning so that soon you can fire me.’ Tara’s voice was thick with tears. ‘You want me gone...?’
Of course he did.
‘It’s because we made love, isn’t it?’ she simpered.
He could correct her but he chose not to. Luka didn’t make love—he had sex.
Often.
His wealth attracted shallow women, but his dark good looks and skills in the bedroom did not lead to the fleeting encounters that he preferred. Always they wanted more than he was prepared to give. He knew that he should never have got involved with his latest PA, especially when he’d just trained her up to be useful.
‘I’m not going to get into a discussion,’ Luka said. ‘Send her up.’
‘But you never said that you were engaged. You never even gave a hint that there was anyone else—’
Bored now, Luka thought. ‘Take as long as you like for lunch,’ he interrupted. Yes, he wanted her gone. ‘Actually, you can take the rest of the day off.’
Tara let out a hopeless sob and then turned and rather loudly left the office.
The slam of the door made Luka’s eyes shut for a brief moment.
It had nothing to do with his PA’s brief outburst, or the noise from the door—it was what would happen in the coming moments that he was bracing himself for.
There had always been someone else.
And now she was here.
He stood up from his desk and moved to the window and looked down below to the London street. It was the middle of summer—not that he usually noticed. His life was spent in air-conditioned comfort and he dressed in the same dark suits whatever the month.
It was ironic, Luka thought, that he and Sophie, after all these years, should meet in London—the place of their far younger dreams.
Until recently he had always assumed that if they did come face to face again it would be in Roma, perhaps on one of his regular visits there. Or even back in Bordo Del Cielo—the coastal town on Sicily’s west coast where they had grown up. He had only returned once, for his father’s funeral last year, but he had been wondering whether he might go back one final time if Sophie’s father decided he wanted to be buried there.
Luka still hadn’t made up his mind if, when that day came, he would attend the funeral.
He knew that that day was coming soon.
And that, he also knew, was the reason that Sophie was here.
His hand reached into his jacket and he took out not a photo, not a memory; instead, it was a brutal reminder as to why they could never be.
He stared at the thin gold chain that wrapped around his long fingers and then he looked at the simple gold cross that lay in his palm. Yes, he would go to her father’s funeral, for this necklace belonged in that grave.
It took only a few moments for Sophie to make her way from the foyer to his suite yet it felt like for ever as he awaited her arrival, but then came the knock at the door that he recognised from yesteryear.
How much easier might his life have been had he not answered the door that long-ago day? Perhaps, Luka thought, he should not respond to it now.
He pocketed the necklace and cleared his throat. ‘Come in.’ He managed a deep summons but, as the door opened, he did not turn around.
‘Your assistant asked me to pass on the message that she’s just resigned. Apparently I’m the final straw.’
The sound of her voice, though a touch stilted and measured, still held, for Luka, the same caress.
For a man who feared little, he was nervous to turn around.
Luka rather hoped that the years that had passed since they’d last met had not treated her kindly—he fleetingly hoped that a nice little drug habit might have aged her terribly, or that she was pregnant with triplets perhaps...anything that might douse the eternal flame.
He turned and found out that time had indeed been cruel, to him at least, for perfection greeted his navy eyes.
Sophie Durante stood before him again.
She was wearing a simple dress in the palest ivory that showed her curvaceous figure. Her glossy, long black hair was worn neatly up in a French roll when he remembered it spilling over naked shoulders.
Her neutral-coloured high-heeled shoes enhanced her toned olive legs.
He forced his gaze up but only made it as far as her mouth. Her full lips were pressed tightly together when he remembered them once laughing and smiling. Then he remembered them somewhere else, which was a rather inconvenient image to have sprung to mind, so he forced himself to meet those dark brown eyes again.
She was just as beautiful as he remembered and, just as they had at their parting, her eyes showed she abhorred him.
Luka stared back with mutual loathing.
‘Sophie.’ He gave her a curt nod.
He did not know how he should greet her—shake her hand, or kiss both cheeks perhaps?
Instead, he gestured for her to take a seat.
She did so; placing her designer bag by the seat, she neatly crossed her legs at the ankles.
‘You look well,’ Luka said, and hoped she might miss that he then cleared his throat—for those first delicate traces of her scent had now reached him and his mind was firing taunting glimpses of memory.
‘I am well,’ she responded, and gave him a tight smile. ‘I am very busy, of course.’
‘Are you working?’ Luka asked. ‘Did you ever get to work on the ships?’
‘No.’ Sophie shook her head. ‘I am an events planner.’
‘Really?’ He didn’t even attempt to hide his surprise. ‘You were always running late for everything.’
He glanced at the ring on her finger—a ruby stone set in Italian gold. It was very old-fashioned and far from what he would have chosen for her. ‘I have terrible taste in rings, it would seem,’ Luka said.
‘Don’t!’ she warned abruptly. ‘You will never insult me again.’
He looked up and into the eyes of the only woman he had ever made love to as she asked him a question.
‘Aren’t you going to ask why I am here?’
‘I presume you’re about to tell me.’ Luka shrugged. He knew damn well why she was here but he’d make her say it just for the pleasure of watching her squirm.
‘My father may be released from prison this Friday on compassionate grounds.’
‘I know that.’
‘How?’
‘I do occasionally glance at the news.’ Luka’s sarcasm didn’t garner a response, though his voice was kinder when he asked her a question. ‘How is he doing?’
‘Don’t pretend that you care.’
‘And don’t dare assume that I don’t!’ he snapped, and he watched her rapid blink as he continued speaking.
Seeing her, he had been momentarily sideswiped but now he took back control and made a vow never to lose his control with her again.
‘But, then, that’s you all over, Sophie. Your mind was always made up even before the jury had been chosen. I’ll ask you again. How is your father?’
‘He is fading, he is a little confused at times.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Isn’t that what prison does to an innocent man?’
Luka stared back and for now said nothing.
Paulo was not as innocent as Sophie made out.
‘Not that a Cavaliere would know about prison,’ she added.
‘I spent six months in prison awaiting trial, two of them in solitary,’ Luka pointed out. ‘Or were you referring to my father being found not guilty?’
‘I have no wish to discuss that man.’ She couldn’t, Luka noted, even bring herself to say his father’s name. How much worse would this conversation be if she knew the truth? he wondered. He could almost feel the heat from the necklace in his pocket. He was actually tempted to toss it across the desk to her, to end them once and for all.
‘Just what are you doing here, Sophie? I thought we ended our engagement a long time ago.’
‘Firstly, I don’t want you to think, for even a moment, that I am here for any romantic reasons.’
‘Good, because it would be an extremely wasted journey if that were the case.’
‘However,’ she continued, ‘my father believes that you upheld your promise. He thinks we got engaged and that we now live together in Rome.’
‘Why would Paulo think that?’
‘It was kinder to lie and let him think that you upheld your commitment to me. I never thought he would be let out and now that he might be I need to keep up the pretence. I told him that the terrible things you said in court about me were in an attempt to protect him.’
‘They were,’ Luka responded. ‘I said what I did in the hope of protecting him, or rather protecting you. You simply refused to see it from my side.’ He looked at her for a very long moment and found he could not stand even having her in the same room so he shook his head. ‘It wouldn’t work.’
‘It has to work,’ Sophie said. ‘You owe me.’
‘I do.’ Luka did not concede with those words. He knew she spoke the truth. ‘But apart from the fact that neither of us can abide being in the same room together, I do have a life. I might be seeing someone...’
‘I don’t care if this upends your life for a while. This is going to happen, Luka. You might sit a rich man in your posh London office and live a jet-set lifestyle but you are from Bordo Del Cielo, you cannot escape from that. You might go through women like tissues but the fact remains we were promised to each other from childhood and where we come from that means something.’ Luka let out a tense breath as she asked again. ‘Will you help my father die in peace?’
‘You want me to move in with you and pretend that we live together?’
‘No, I read that you have an apartment in Rome...we will use that.’
‘Why not yours?’
‘I share with my friend Bella. You might remember her...’
Luka bit back a sarcastic response. From what he had heard, a lot of men might remember Bella!
‘She runs a business from our home.’
As she spoke, he noted that Sophie ignored his slight sardonic smile, even though she must know what it insinuated.
‘It would not be fair to disrupt Bella and it would look odd for us, as a couple, to be sharing a home with her.’
‘And would this loving couple be sharing a bed?’ He voiced the obvious question but she did not answer directly.
‘It would look strange for us to sleep apart.’
‘Would there be sex?’ he asked, wishing a blush would rise on her cheeks, for Sophie to give some indication that this hurt like hell for her also, but she stared back coolly as she delivered her response.
‘I would think not,’ she said. ‘Since that evening, given what happened, I have a phobia...’
Luka’s eyes widened. Was Sophie saying that there had been no one since him? There was a small rush of giddy relief that he quickly doused but she hadn’t finished speaking. ‘But if that is what it will take for you to agree, then, yes, there can be sex.’
‘I thought Bella was the whore.’
‘We can all be whores,’ Sophie responded with spite, and Luka looked at the beautiful yet hostile stranger whose innocence he had taken, never to return. ‘So, yes, if sex is to be part of the deal—’
‘No, thanks,’ Luka interrupted. ‘I don’t need charity sex and, anyway, martyrs don’t turn me on—it’s extremely willing participants that do.’ He watched the slight swallow in her neck and he knew, he just knew she was remembering how good they had been so he cruelly walked her down memory lane and, as he did so, he reinforced a truth. ‘Surely you know how much I like a woman who instigates things.’
He’d thought she’d blush as he pointed out how she had been the one who had practically begged him to make love to her yet, rather than blush, Sophie surprised him with a shrug and a smile.
‘Well, there will be no sex for us, then, because I won’t be instigating anything. Are you going to do this, Luka?’
‘I’d like some time to think about it.’
‘My father doesn’t have time.’
‘Leave me your business card, Sophie, I’ll call you when I’ve made up my mind.’
He watched as she went into her bag and for the first time appeared flustered. ‘I don’t have any with me.’
‘Give me your number.’
‘I will contact you.’ Sophie stood and went to leave but at the last moment changed her mind. ‘You owe me this, Luka, we were promised to each other. You took my virginity.’
He could only admire her for, unlike most women, she spoke of their time together without misty recall. In fact, she reduced it to cold fact.
Almost.
‘Took?’ he checked. ‘What an odd choice of word. You see, from my recollection...’ Now a blush spread from her neck and rose to her cheeks. He came around the desk and stood in front of her, and she backed up to the desk. ‘Are you going to jump up, Sophie...or do your prefer a kitchen bench to an office desk?’
Now she was struggling to keep her cool.
‘Why didn’t I marry you?’ He played devil’s advocate. ‘You being such a good Sicilian girl...’
‘I told my father that it was my dream for him to walk me down the aisle. I told him—’
‘Stop there,’ Luka interrupted. ‘I need to think about what I’m prepared to agree to but before we go any further there is something that you need to know.’ They were face to face as he said it. ‘I will never marry you.’
‘You’ll do whatever it takes.’ The spitfire he had known was returning and she jabbed a finger into his chest to make her point. ‘Whatever. It. Takes.’
‘No,’ he calmly interrupted. Despite the cool facade she had attempted, he knew that she was as Sicilian as the volcanic soil they were from, and as he watched her struggle to hold in her temper, he didn’t suppress his slight triumphant smile. She was just as volatile and passionate as he remembered. Those traits in Sophie were everything he both loved and loathed.
‘After what you did, after what you said about me in court...’
‘Lose the drama, Sophie,’ His voice was completely calm. ‘I accept that I have a moral debt to you, given all that happened, but, even with several years’ interest added, I do not owe you that much. I will agree to be your fake fiancé, but never your fake husband. Know that now, or get the hell out.’
He hoped for the latter. Get the hell out of my life, my head, my heart.
Just get out!
Instead, Sophie must have accepted his terms for she sat back down.
It was time to talk business.
Finally, together, they would face the mistakes of their past.
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.
