Mediterranean Tycoons: Tempting & Taken: The Italian's Runaway Bride / His Inherited Bride / Pregnancy of Revenge

Kelly had never coveted wealth. She enjoyed her life, and as long as she had enough to get by on she was quite happy, but she could understand great wealth must bring with it great responsibilities. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ The thought that he thought she was beautiful was balm to her bruised heart, and slowly she was recovering from the shock of seeing him again. ‘But marriage?’ That was something else again, she thought, unaware she had voiced that thought out loud.

‘Yes, Kelly,’ Gianfranco cut in, pulling her closer to the hard heat of his body. ‘You will marry me, and have my child. I have not spent the last few months going crazy over a blonde-haired little spitfire to be turned down now.’

He smoothed a possessive hand over her quivering length, lingering on her stomach. ‘You are mine, and this baby is mine,’ he husked quietly, and smiled.

How did he do that? One minute he was all outraged predatory male and moments later he was smiling tenderly into her guarded blue eyes. ‘Yes,’ she murmured, thinking, in her confused state, he was asking if the baby was his.

His dark head lowered and he let his tongue trace the fullness of her lips before delving into the moist depths. His hand slid down her back to the base of her spine, moving against her in a way that made her blatantly aware of his arousal.

Kelly tried to remain rigid in his embrace, but her body softened against the hard heat of Gianfranco’s massive frame.

‘You want me, and I want you; what more is there to say?’ He breathed the words against her mouth and softly to her throat and ear, then back once more to her pouting lips. He nudged her lips apart again and dipped into her mouth with his tongue, in a rhythm that made a moan rise in her throat.

‘Gianni,’ she gasped helplessly, but she retained enough common sense to know he was deliberately trying to seduce her.

He felt her tremble and loved her reaction. ‘You called me Gianni; you have not forgotten.’ He groaned with feeling against her mouth, scanning her with glittering eyes filled with hunger and something more. He stared down into her dazed yet wary eyes and he wanted to take her there and then, his body screaming for release. Instead he drew in a steadying breath and eased her to arm’s length. ‘Perhaps a drink is in order, but not coffee—I need something stronger,’ he opined bluntly.

Kelly heard the faint humour in his tone and smiled. He sounded like a man sorely tried. ‘I think I can oblige. There is half a bottle of whisky left over from Christmas in the kitchen. Have a seat and I’ll get it.’

She badly needed to put some space between them. He was right about her wanting him. She did, always had since the first moment she’d set eyes on him. Gianni or Gianfranco, it didn’t matter; he was the man she loved, she acknowledged as she walked into the kitchen on shaking legs. If she was honest with herself, Gianfranco’s surprising offer of marriage was more than she had ever hoped for, and it was very tempting. She opened a cupboard and withdrew the bottle of amber nectar.

A few minutes later she walked back into the living room, with a tray bearing a glass of whisky and a glass of milk. A quick glance and she saw Gianfranco was leaning against the mantelpiece, one hand fingering the silver-framed photograph of a couple with their arms around each other. His eyes caught hers before she could look away. ‘Your parents?’ He indicated the picture. ‘I never thought to ask…where are they?’

‘Both dead,’ she said softly.

‘So you are alone in the world,’ he declared grimly. In one lithe stride he was beside her, and, taking the tray from her hands, he placed it on the coffee table. Straightening up, he handed her the glass of milk. ‘You should not carry anything in your condition.’

His fingers brushed hers as she took the glass, sending a tingling sensation up her arm. Their eyes met, his dark and knowing, hers guarded. ‘I’m not ill, only pregnant,’ she said drily. ‘I’m still at work,’ she tagged on, sinking down into a convenient armchair with a sigh. She was also tired and emotionally confused, but she had no intention of telling Gianfranco. Instead she lifted the glass to her mouth and took a long swallow of the cool creamy liquid.

‘You still work!’ he exclaimed, and stared at her as if she had gone mad. ‘That’s it.’ Gianfranco drained his glass of whisky in one gulp, banged it down on the table, and turned to frown down at her. He had flown to England angry, not sure what he was going to do about Kelly, but one look at her and he had heard himself asking her to marry him. Thank God he had. It appalled him to realise she was alone in the world, and it also brought home to him how little he really knew about her. Well, all that had to change, he decided in his usual arrogant manner.

‘As I remember, you were going to work as a research chemist.’ His dark brows drew together in a thunderous frown. ‘That is out. There is no way you should be anywhere near a laboratory—you could catch anything, do untold damage to our child.’

Her head tilted back, her blue eyes lifting to his, and what she saw made her suck in her breath—he was deadly serious. ‘But…’

‘No buts. You will resign tomorrow—in fact, I will do it for you.’

‘Now wait just a minute…’

‘No. On this I will not budge. As my wife, you are not working in a laboratory.’

‘Gianfranco, really, it is the twenty-first century—women work all through their pregnancy at all sorts of jobs. Some go back three months after the child is born.’

‘Not you,’ he declared adamantly.

She could argue, she reasoned, but somehow she didn’t want to. There was something very seductive about having a man take charge.

‘You are not going to argue?’ One dark brow arched in puzzlement as she watched and she almost giggled. He was standing over her, his great body taut with tension.

‘Do you want me to?’ she asked softly. Incredible as it seemed, she was beginning to think that perhaps there was some hope for them. She loved him, she was carrying his child, and he wanted to marry her. Common sense told her at least to listen.

‘No. Oh, no. Kelly.’ To her astonishment, he dropped to his knees at her feet.

He caught her hand and turned it over in his much larger one. ‘I know our relationship got off to a rocky start,’ he said, picking his words with care. ‘I know this is not the ideal situation to find ourselves in. But know this, Kelly.’ His rough, deep voice was thick with some overwhelming emotion. ‘I really do want to marry you, child or no child, the sooner the better.’

Kelly trembled as Gianfranco lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss into her palm, before raising his head, his gaze roaming over her beautiful face. There was no mistaking the sincerity, the simmering passion in the deep brown eyes that finally met hers.

‘Kelly, my love, give me a second chance.’ He took a deep, rasping breath. ‘I don’t want to rush you into anything you don’t want, but marry me soon,’ he pleaded huskily. ‘You know it makes sense.’

Kelly wasn’t aware she was giving him a second chance, she thought muzzily, but, as his arms drifted around her again and pulled her gently into the warmth of his embrace, she didn’t resist. She could not. His dark head lowered and his lips found hers. This was where the last hour had been leading; this was what she had been afraid of. She was incapable of controlling her own response. Why deny it, she asked herself with a flash of insight, when she wanted him so much? Her senses were swimming with pleasure, her mouth clinging to his as he held her tightly against him, his tongue darting between her lips, exploring her mouth with an urgent passion.

‘Dio, you feel so good. You don’t know what you do to me, cara.’ His deep voice shook as he eased her slightly away from him. ‘Say yes, Kelly.’

For months she had been telling herself she would be fine as a single parent. But was she being fair to her unborn child? Kelly asked herself, studying Gianfranco’s handsome face with brilliant blue eyes. Now she had a choice; he was offering marriage, and two parents must be better than one. It was no contest because, dear heaven, she loved him.

Instead of the ‘yes’ that trembled on her lips Kelly heard herself ask, ‘Who was the redhead?’

‘Natalie. The wife of an American cousin of mine. Her husband was in the Far East on business and I deputised for him at the charity dinner,’ he explained huskily. ‘Only at the dinner, I swear.’

For a long moment she stared into his incredible eyes, and she believed him. ‘In that case…’ She reached her arms around his neck, urging him back to her, ‘Yes, oh, yes.’ Her long lashes fluttered down over her brilliant blue eyes, her fingers tangling in the silky black hair of his head, her lips blindly seeking his again.

She never saw the flare of triumph in his night-dark eyes as he gathered her close and kissed her long and slow, and when she finally opened her eyes she gazed up at him, totally enslaved all over again.

‘You have made me the happiest man alive.’

‘Happiest man…’ she murmured, floating in a sensuous bubble. ‘Are you sure you want to marry me?’ She had to ask. It was like a dream, and she wanted to pinch herself to make sure it was true.

‘I have never wanted anything more in my life, except perhaps tonight I want to make love to you, as I should have done the first time. Long and slow, very slow.’

‘Sounds good,’ she sighed, and tightened her hands behind his head.

‘No, not here—the bedroom.’ And, lifting her in his arms, he carried her out of the room, up the stairs, and without hesitation walked into the first bedroom he came to. One glance at the double bed and Gianfranco wanted to lay her down on it. But he forced himself to lower Kelly slowly to her feet.

As if waking from a dream, Kelly stood in the middle of the floor and looked up. Gianfranco was towering over her, his arms linked loosely around her waist. His eyes, dark with desire, roamed over her small frame, but when his hands reached for the bottom of her sweater she froze.

Suddenly she was terribly conscious of her altered physical state. ‘No,’ Kelly whispered and grasped his hands with hers. ‘I’m not the same.’ She looked up into his handsome face and placed a restraining hand on his chest. ‘I’m fat—my waist has gone,’ she said, scarlet with embarrassment.

Gianfranco wanted to laugh, she looked so beautiful, so woebegone, but he had more sense than to do so. ‘You are not fat, Kelly, you are luscious and swollen with my child. I have never seen you more beautiful.’ And, lifting her hand from his chest, he led her to the bed. Then, squeezing her hand, he added, ‘But if you are nervous you can undress me first.’ His dark eyes held hers as he quickly removed his shoes and socks, and then, straightening, more slowly removed his tie, undid the first two buttons of his shirt. ‘Help me, Kelly,’ he husked.

Intrigued, she forgot her own embarrassment and, sliding her small hands over his chest, she quickly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. He slipped it from his shoulders and Kelly slid her hands back up over the tanned hair-roughened chest with tactile delight. ‘You feel hot,’ Kelly murmured, lifting fascinated eyes to his. ‘And so hard.’

Gianfranco almost groaned out loud. She had got that right; he was so hard he thought he’d burst. But even if it killed him he was going to make it right for her this time, he vowed. He smiled gently. ‘Now the trousers,’ he prompted.

Her head dipped, her slender fingers making short work of the waist fastening, but she hesitated a second before pulling down the zip, her knuckles stroking the rigid length of him through the fine fabric of his shorts.

There was something very exciting, empowering, about undressing a man, Kelly thought, her heart racing as she gently eased his trousers down over his hips, then, dropping to her knees, she slid them down his long legs. Intent upon her task, she never saw the grimace of agony on his face as her long hair brushed against his naked thighs and the hard length of his arousal, barely covered by black silk.

Stooping, Gianfranco lifted her to her feet. ‘Enough,’ he said huskily as he bent to her mouth. ‘I can’t wait much longer.’