New Arrivals: One Secret Child: Mistress, Mother...Wife? / Wealthy Australian, Secret Son / Her Prince's Secret Son

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.

CHAPTER TEN

‘I WAS raised in a small village inland, far away from the mountains and lakes. It wasn’t anything like here.’ He pushed to his feet as though the memory made him restless and uneasy. ‘It didn’t have the cultural delights or beautiful vistas of Como, and the people who lived there were neither rich nor privileged. But there was a strong sense of community, so I’ve been told. However, we didn’t stay. When my father walked out on her, my mother had no choice but to move to the nearest town to try and make a living.’

‘Your father walked out on you and your mother? ‘

‘He did.’ Only briefly did Dante meet Anna’s gaze and hold it. ‘It was a long time ago. I don’t even remember him.’

‘So…you don’t know much about him, then?’

He grimaced. ‘Only that he was British and an archaeologist. He’d been working on a dig nearby, looking for Roman ruins, when he met my mother. As far as I’m aware archaeologists aren’t exactly high earners. At least I’ve far exceeded anything my father could have made, and my mother didn’t die impoverished—as he left her!’

The strained silence that fell after his reluctantly voiced confession made Anna’s heart sore. Dante had become a man without the love or guidance of a father, or even close male relatives, and bereft of that important bond had had to forge his own way in life. He’d had to bury what must have been a deep-seated need for love and connection from his male parent, papering it over with material pursuits and the seemingly glamorous but ultimately not permanently fulfilling rewards of success.

All Anna had yearned for as a child was the unconditional love and support of her parents. No amount of money would have made her dire situation any better. It probably would have made things worse, because more money would have meant her father had had more income to spend on drink. But right now it was clear to her that no matter how wealthy or successful Dante had become a big part of him still yearned for the father’s love he’d never had.

Moving over to where he stood, she touched her palm to the strong heart beating beneath his fine linen shirt.

‘I think you’ve done an amazing job of turning your life around after such a challenging start, Dante,’ she told him. ‘But more than what you’ve achieved materially, you’re a good man…a man any father would be proud to call his son.’

‘Am I?’ For a disturbing few moments his glance was tortured. ‘You only say that because you don’t know what I’ve done to get where I am today.’

Anna’s dark-eyed gaze didn’t waver. ‘If you’ve done anything wrong, in my opinion it’s only that you’ve become too hard on yourself.’

‘You’re just naive—that’s why you say that.’

‘I had to grow up too fast—just like you, Dante—and I’ve learned that we don’t help ourselves when we constantly criticise what we’ve done in the past. We did the best we knew how to do at the time. How can anyone—even you—do more than that?’

‘You learned when you started to look for me that I had a “ruthless reputation”. The papers did not lie, Anna. I did whatever I could to make my fortune. I had no scruples as long as I won the deal—as long as it meant more money and power. I was so driven I didn’t even care that I helped people to lose their jobs. I certainly didn’t have sleepless nights worrying about how they would support themselves or their families afterwards! Even my mother started to despair of me. She warned me against alienating good people. One day I would need trustworthy friends, she said—not phoney ones who were driven by fear and greed like I was.

‘Well…it took my mother’s death and then meeting you, Anna, to make me wake up to the truth of my life. To make me want to work and live with more integrity. to make me want to help people instead of exploit them for what I could get. It took me a while to change things, but when I realised that the changes I had to make had to be quite radical one of the first things I did was to revert back to my Italian name. I only used my father’s name because, coming from a poor background, with only the most basic education, I wanted to distance myself from Italy and all that it meant to me. Ironic, really, when I didn’t even know the man and he didn’t stay around for long—’

‘Oh, Dante… What an incredible journey you’ve had to come back to yourself.’ Anna’s heart was so full it was hard to keep her tears at bay.

He shook his head, as if he was uncomfortable with the tenderness in her voice, as if his painful story couldn’t possibly warrant it. ‘There are shadows beneath your eyes, innamorata.’

His hand glanced softly against her cheekbone, his blue-grey eyes as hypnotically mesmerising as the moonlit lake outside the window, and Anna wanted to lose herself in those fascinating depths for a long time.

His next words robbed her of the chance.

‘We’ve had a long day’s travelling. You really should take the opportunity of having an early night. In the morning the housekeeper I hire to look after the villa when I’m here will arrive with her daughter, who also helps out. They’ll prepare breakfast for us, and also find out if there’s anything we need.’

‘What are their names?’

‘The housekeeper and her daughter?’ Dante shrugged, as though surprised by the question. ‘Giovanna is the mother and Ester the daughter. No doubt they’ll immediately fall in love with Tia when they meet her—both of them adore children, and Ester has a little son of her own. Anyway…like I said, you look tired. You should have a leisurely bath, then an early night. I’ll join you later.’ He turned away from her.

‘I hope you don’t regret sharing what you just shared with me?’ Concerned, as well as disappointed that he seemed intent on spending the rest of the evening without her, Anna restlessly coiled a long strand of her bright hair round her finger. ‘Do you?’ she pressed.

‘Go to bed, Anna. We’ll talk again in the morning.’

‘Why don’t you answer me? I don’t want to go to bed and leave you brooding here on your own.’

A faint smile appeared on his fine-cut lips as he turned to survey her.

‘So you want to be my rescuer again? Just as you tried to rescue me from my morose mood all those years ago?’

Fielding the comment, Anna lifted her chin. ‘Is it so wrong of me to want to reach out to you? To show you that I care about how you’re feeling?’

Remaining silent, Dante looked away again.

With frustrated tears making her eyes smart, Anna swung round on her heel and marched out of the room.

After watching the coloured house lights reflect off the dark lake for a long time, Dante stepped back into the drawing room at around one in the morning. The Campari on the rocks he’d made himself was barely touched. Leaving the crystal tumbler on a rosewood table, he stretched his arms high above his head, grimacing at the locked tension in his protesting muscles.

With everything he had in him he wanted to join Anna in the stately canopied double bed. But how could he when he knew she must secretly despise him for the way he had conducted himself in the past? It had even prevented her from getting in touch with him to tell him about Tia. No, it was Anna who was good and deserving of help…not him. Fear of failure and loss had been the dark, soul-destroying forces he’d been guided by. And because his associations with Italy had been tainted with hurt from his childhood he had fled to England to make his fortune, consciously choosing to lose his accent and forget his roots to reinvent himself as the untouchable businessman, the ice man.

All in all, it didn’t make a pretty picture. Bringing Anna and Tia here had raised painful spectres from his past when he’d started to believe he had let them go. What he wanted most of all was a new start for himself and his family—not to focus on his past mistakes and feel unworthy again. But could he blame Anna if ultimately she couldn’t forgive him for his deplorable history?

Intensely disliking the feeling of not having his emotions under control the way he wanted, Dante scrubbed an agitated hand round his shadowed jaw. He’d be better in the morning, he told himself. A few hours’ solid sleep and he’d be more like himself again. Reaching for the button on a discreet wall panel that controlled the lighting, he pressed it, lingering for a solitary moment as the room was plunged into darkness.

Tonight he wouldn’t seek comfort in Anna’s tender arms, as he ached with every fibre of his being to do. Somehow, after practically dismissing her on her first night in Como, he didn’t believe he deserved it. Instead, he would retreat to one of the other palatial bedrooms and spend the night alone.

She’d left the curtains open, and in the morning, sun streamed into the room, straight at her. Anna had to shield her eyes. Her spirits plunged in dismay when she realised that Dante hadn’t joined her as he’d promised he would. He’d been absolutely right about her being tired, but she was shocked at the speed with which she’d fallen asleep. She had remained in that condition up until now too. She was in a strange country, and a strange house, as well as beginning a month’s trial period of living with him. You’d think any one of those things would have kept her awake…but, no.

A deep sigh of regret escaped her. She should have stayed with him last night—should have found a way to reach him, to let him know how much she cared. If she’d stayed then he would have seen that she didn’t agree with his unspoken belief that he didn’t deserve love and care. He would have seen that Anna was fiercely loyal to the people she cared about. Yet she was still wary of disclosing her feelings when there was the ever-present fear that he might want to take away her autonomy.

But right now she needed to see her little girl and see how she was faring. She too had slept in a strange room, in a strange bed. Glancing at the clock by the bedside, she gasped when she saw the time. What kind of a mother was she that she could blithely oversleep and leave her child to fend for herself?

Guiltily grabbing her pastel blue cotton robe from the end of the bed, she yawned—and then couldn’t resist peering out at the wrought-iron balcony and the sublime view of the sun-dappled lake. A canopied boat full of early-morning tourists floated leisurely by. She caught her breath. There was a real holiday atmosphere in the air that to Anna was just like a dream. Even more so when she thought about spending her time here with the two people she cared most about in the world.

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