His Virgin Bride: The Fiorenza Forced Marriage / Bought: For His Convenience or Pleasure? / A Night With Consequences

Emma turned from the window with her heart doing little back flips in her chest, her face hot and her pulse racing out of control. She was deeply ashamed of her reaction to him. She felt like a gauche schoolgirl instead of a grown woman. He had only to look at her and she felt her colour begin to rise both inside and out. That dark smouldering gaze of his set her senses alight every time it rested on her and it seemed there was nothing she could do to stop it. It galled her to think he of all people had such an effect on her. He was an unprincipled playboy, a man who used women as playthings, discarding them when they no longer appealed to him. She knew if she was fool enough to succumb to his potent charm he would break her heart and think nothing of it. After all it would be the perfect revenge to get back at her for what he was convinced she had done to profit from his father’s will.

The new housekeeper came to work at the villa each morning, along with the team of gardeners, which left Emma with even less to do to occupy her time. She caught up on some reading and went for long walks about the town, visiting some of the places she had read about in her travel guide. The tourist season was in full swing by now and she mingled with the crowds, stopping for coffee at one of the many cafes until the heat of the day brought her back to the villa.

After a few days, once the staff had left for the day Emma made the most of the warm weather by dipping in and out of the pool. The water was cool against her heated skin and she closed her eyes and floated on her back, enjoying the sounds of the garden, the birds twittering in the shrubs and trees, the gentle lap of water and the soothing tinkle of the wind chimes hanging in the arbour.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Rafaele’s deep voice sounded from the deck of the pool.

Emma jerked upright, water shooting up her nose as she tried to find her feet. ‘You scared me!’ she said, blinking the water out of her eyes. ‘I thought you’d gone out.’

‘I did, but I have been back about an hour,’ he said. ‘I thought I might find you out here. How is the water?’

‘It’s…lovely,’ she said, trying not to stare at his leanly muscled body. He was dressed in black bathers, the close-fitting Lycra outlining his masculine form so lovingly she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

He dived in and swam several lengths, the effortless motion of his arms and legs making Emma’s earlier efforts seem rather pathetic by comparison.

‘Want a race to the other end?’ he asked as he came up close by.

‘I’m not quite in your league,’ she said with a self-conscious grimace.

‘Come on, Emma, be a devil,’ he said. ‘I will give you a head start.’

Emma took a deep breath and threw herself into it, her arms going like windmills and her feet and ankles flapping with all their might. She thought she was in with a chance until she felt one of his hands grasp her by one of her ankles and pull her backwards through the water. She came up spluttering, and as she twisted round to face him her hands somehow landed on his chest, her legs tangling with his under the water. ‘You cheated!’ she spluttered.

He smiled at her. ‘One thing you should know about me, Emma, is I do not always play by the rules.’

She gave him a reproachful look. ‘In my book you’re not a winner unless you’ve won fair and square.’

His hands settled on her hips, his lower body brushing against hers as he kept them both afloat. ‘Ah, yes, but then I make it a point of always winning,’ he said, looking down at her mouth.

Emma could hardly breathe. His mouth was so close she could see the pepper of stubble on his jaw, his warm breath like a caress as he came even closer. ‘D-don’t…’ she said in a hoarse whisper. He lifted one brow. ‘You do not want me to kiss you?’

She looked into his dark, smouldering gaze. ‘I think it’s best if you don’t…’

‘Why is that?’ he asked, still holding her against him.

‘Um…I think it’s not wise to complicate things…’

One of his hands moved from the curve of her hip to settle at the back of her neck beneath the wet curtain of her hair. ‘How will it complicate things if I kiss you?’ he asked.

Emma took a tight little swallow. She knew exactly what one kiss would do. As it was she had been trying to stamp out the memory of the wedding kiss without success. ‘I don’t want to…to develop feelings for you, Rafaele,’ she said.

His eyes searched hers for a long moment. ‘You think that is likely to happen?’

‘I’m not a casual hook-up type of person,’ she said. ‘After this…arrangement is over I want to get married and have a family. I’m twenty-six years old. I don’t want to leave it too late to settle down. I want stability and commitment. You’re not the person to give me those things.’

A hard light came into his eyes. ‘Nor was my father, but that did not stop you from talking him into giving you a fortune.’

Emma pulled out of his hold. ‘You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Rafaele. I’m not even going to waste my breath denying it again.’

‘Have dinner with me tonight.’

She frowned at him. ‘What?’

‘Let’s go out for a meal,’ he said. ‘Let’s do it the old-fashioned way. Guy meets girl, that sort of thing. Let’s forget about my father and take it one step at a time.’

‘Rafaele…this is crazy,’ she said.

‘What is so crazy about two people going out to dinner and strengthening their acquaintance?’ he asked. ‘After all, we have got to live together for months on end—wouldn’t it be better if at the end of it we were friends instead of enemies?’

‘I can’t imagine us ever being friends.’

‘Only because we got off to a bad start,’ he said. ‘I am not always such a brute you know. I can be quite charming when I put my mind to it.’

Yes, well, that’s what I’m worried about, Emma thought. She was having enough trouble keeping her head as it was. God only knew what would happen to her heart if he laid on the Fiorenza charm at full strength. She had seen a glimpse of it already, that lazy smile and those dark, smouldering eyes had set her heart racing a few times too many. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll have dinner with you, but only because it’s the housekeeper’s afternoon off.’

He grinned at her, a boyish grin that sent her stomach into another dip-and-dive routine. ‘You really know how to annihilate a man’s ego, don’t you?’ he said.

Emma felt an answering smile tug at the corners of her mouth. ‘I’m sure yours should be listed as one of the great wonders of the world,’ she said. ‘In fact I bet it can be seen from outer space.’

‘I can see I am going to have to work extra hard to improve your opinion of me,’ he said. ‘But who knows what a bit of wining and dining will do? I am going to have a bit more of a swim before I get out and have a shower. Is eight-thirty OK with you?’

‘Sure,’ Emma said, moving to the side of the pool, her stomach already fluttering with excitement. ‘I’ll be ready.’

When Emma came downstairs close to eight-thirty Rafaele was waiting for her in the salon. He had been reading through one of the weekend papers and rose to his feet as she came in, his gaze running over her appreciatively. ‘You look stunning, Emma,’ he said, ‘absolutely stunning.’

‘Thank you,’ Emma said shyly.

‘I thought we could eat at a restaurant at Villa Olmo,’ he said as he led the way out to his car. ‘Have you had a chance to visit it yet?’

‘No, but I’ve walked past it a couple of times,’ she said. ‘It’s very grand, isn’t it?’

‘It’s the most famous residence of Como,’ he informed her. ‘The villa owes its name to an elm tree that in ancient times grew inside the park. The architect was Simone Cantoni and now the town of Como owns it and uses it for various exhibits. The restaurant is situated to the right of the villa.’

‘I’ve made a bit of a start on my sightseeing,’ Emma said. ‘I’ve been to Duomo, the cathedral, and to the Volta temple and on the Funicular so far.’

He glanced at her. ‘Did you walk up to the lighthouse?’

‘Yes, it was an amazing view from up there,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to leave.’

‘The funicular has been running from the end of the eighteen hundreds,’ he said. ‘From the top you can make out the castrum, the rectangle that made up the old establishment of the Roman town. You can even see the first basin of the lake and the villas and plains that lead to Milan.’

Emma looked at him. ‘Did you miss all this while you were living abroad?’

He took a moment to answer. ‘Yes, I did miss it,’ he said. ‘There was many a time I wanted to come back, but it was impossible.’

‘Do you really think your father would have turned you away from the door?’ she asked.

His hands tightened on the wheel, the only sign Emma could see of his tension. ‘When I left fifteen years ago he made it quite clear I would not be welcome to return. I did not bother testing him to see if he meant it or not.’