Fascination: The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge

Fascination: The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge
Carole Mortimer

Grieving Sicilian billionaire Cesare Gambrelli is bent on vengeance. His plan is simple: to bed, then wed beautiful Robin Ingram, to make her pay for her brother’s mistake. But revenge cannot prevent his fascination with his innocent bride. . .When international playboy Count Wolf Gambrelli sets eyes on deliciously beautiful Angelica, he wants her. And as he’s been appointed her temporary live-in protector, Wolf has one week to seduce her…Sicilian film producer Luc Gambrelli is used to calling all the shots, until he meets sassy Darci. Never before has a woman so intrigued and annoyed him. Tired of her teasing, he plans to take control and bring her to his bed!

Brooding, darkly sexy and very demanding! These Sicilian heroes are every woman’s fantasy. Share our

Fascination

Three dramatic and intense romances brought to you by popular, beloved author Carole Mortimer

About the Author

CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written over one hundred and fifty books for Mills & Boon

. Carole has six sons, Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, “I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.”

Look out for Carole Mortimer’s new novels, which will be available soon from Mills & Boon

Modern™.

Carole

Mortimer

Fascination

The Sicilian’s Ruthless

Marriage Revenge

At the Sicilian

Count’s Command

The Sicilian’s

Innocent Mistress

Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

The Sicilian’s Ruthless

Marriage Revenge

Carole Mortimer

PROLOGUE

GONE.

It was all gone.

The money had been spent long ago. In the last year, his London apartment had gone too, plus the villa in France and his red Ferrari. All of them lost to the turn of a roulette wheel.

It was a sickness; he knew it was. But, hard as he tried, it was a sickness he didn’t seem to be able to find a cure for.

Last night he had lost the one thing that he had always sworn he would never use to finance his gambling, and he had let his family down in the worst way possible.

Oh, God …!

His hands tightened on the steering wheel of the car he drove—a hire-car; he had no money left to buy one of his own. His steering was instinctive as he negotiated the hairpin bends of the mountain road that took him away from Monte Carlo, the azure blue of the Mediterranean Sea sparkling invitingly far below. It was a journey which he knew, despite his efforts to fight the urge, he would make back again this evening, when the fever became too much for him and he once again returned to the fascination of the gaming tables.

How would he ever be able to face his father and Robin, and tell them what he had done? How could he ever explain his betrayal?

He couldn’t.

After all the heartache he had already caused them, he really couldn’t!

And that blue sea below did look so very inviting …

Maybe he wouldn’t bother to turn the wheel at the next sharp bend. Maybe that was the answer to the sickness that possessed him, like a fever in his blood, drawing him back time and time again to Lady Luck.

A lady that had completely abandoned him… .

Over.

It was all over.

All her hopes and dreams meant nothing now that she knew Pierre had never loved her at all. Certainly he’d never had any intention of leaving his wife for her.

She had believed him a year ago when he’d told her he loved her, hadn’t cared that he was a married man, only wanted to be with him, to be loved by him, to love him in return.

She had been so sure that the son she had borne him three months ago would be the spur he needed to leave his wife. Instead, the coward had chosen to confess all to his wife, to beg her forgiveness in order to stay at her side!

Her poor little son.

Her Marco.

She had brought shame and disgrace upon her family to bring him into the world. And it had all been for nothing. Pierre didn’t love her. Last night, as she’d lain replete in his arms after their lovemaking, and had begged him to come to her and their small son, he had told her the truth—that he had never loved her, that she had merely been a diversion, another conquest in a long list of such affairs.

Tears streaked her face as she drove along the mountain road back to Monte Carlo and the family-owned hotel there. To her child. Her small, beautiful, fatherless child.

He would be better off without her!

She had no heart left now—knew that it was broken in two, that it would never mend.

If she were no longer here, then her brother Cesare would care for Marco, would protect him from the stigma attached to his birth, would care for him as his own, safeguarding him, so that nothing and no one could ever hurt him.