Harlequin Presents--April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Dani Collins

  ‘Luna worked for your parents?’

  ‘She was actually working her notice,’ Gian said. ‘They had been late again paying her and she had resigned, but after they died Luna said she would stay until things were more stable.’ Gian gave her a tight smile. ‘Fifteen years later, she still reminds me on occasion that she is working her notice.’ He shook his head and closed the subject.

  Except Ariana wanted to prise it back open. ‘Tell me...’

  ‘Tell you what?’

  ‘How you felt when they died?’

  ‘As I told you, I barely knew them.’

  ‘They were your parents, your brother...’

  ‘Just leave it,’ he warned. ‘Ariana, I respect your boundaries. Why can’t you respect mine?’

  ‘Because I want to know you some more...’

  He kept right on walking, though a little faster than before. ‘Wait...’ Ariana said, and grabbed his coat to slow him down, except her hand found its way back into his. ‘I’m sorry for pushing. I just wonder...’ she didn’t know how best to say it ‘...when the grief goes?’

  ‘I can’t answer that,’ Gian admitted. ‘I grieved for them long before they died.’ He should close it there, but her hand was warm and he sensed she would walk for ever just to hear some more. ‘Eduardo and I were both repulsed by their ways. He was older, the one who would look out for me when I was small, make sure my nanny was paid, that sort of thing...’

  She stayed silent in the hope he would continue and her reward was great, for he revealed more.

  ‘Then he took up their ways and I ended up looking out for him.’

  Still she stayed silent but she felt the grip of his hand tighten and it seemed like the darkness of his truth guided her through her own pain.

  ‘I found Eduardo one morning; I thought he was dead. I couldn’t rouse my parents. The hotel doctor came and for all the hell of that morning, by that evening the incident was forgotten.’

  Now she spoke. ‘Not by you.’

  ‘Never by me,’ Gian said. ‘It happened several times again. I said to Eduardo one day, “I won’t always be there to save you.” And it was then that I stopped...’

  ‘Stopped what?’ Ariana asked.

  ‘I can’t answer that,’ Gian admitted. ‘And I’m not being evasive, I just...’ He shrugged. ‘Stopped.’

  Ariana stopped asking, which he was grateful for, because revelations like these were hard.

  He had stopped...not loving, not caring, just stopped all feelings.

  Stopped hoping for change.

  Stopped trying to control their chaos.

  ‘I like order,’ he admitted, and looked over at her. ‘Why do you smile?’

  ‘Because it’s hardly a revelation. I know you like order, Gian.’

  ‘You know too much,’ he said, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head as they walked.

  It was a tiny kiss, but when it came from Gian, it felt as if he had just picked her up and carried her.

  It felt so perfect that she actually let out a little laugh and touched her head to feel where his lips had just pressed, for her scalp tingled. ‘You’re crazy, Ariana,’ he told her.

  ‘A bit.’

  It was unexpected bliss on the saddest of nights, to be walking on a cold Rome night, hand in hand, along Piazza d’Arecoli, their breaths blowing white in the night air. Ariana had run out of words, and she was terrified that he might drop her hand.

  His hand was warm and it was so unexpected and so nice and just everything she needed tonight.

  Gian too was pondering the light weight of her fingers that wrapped around his and how, on the near-empty street, when they could easily walk apart, they were strolling like this.

  It was Ariana Romano.

  She’s a friend, he told himself.

  He was simply doing what any friend would.

  Except he did not have friendships of this type.

  And he never confided in anyone, yet he just had.

  Still holding hands, they took the stairs and there before them, ever beautiful, was the Altar of the Fatherland. Soldiers stood guarding the tomb of the unknown soldier and Ariana knew she should guard her own heart with the same attention and care.

  ‘Oh,’ she gasped as they took in the altar of the goddess of Rome.

  His stomach growled and he turned her to face him. There were tired streaks of mascara, like delicate lace, smudged on her cheeks. Her mouth, rarely devoid of lipstick, was swollen from days of tears. She smiled briefly and it lit up her face for a moment. He wanted to capture it, to frame it and hold onto it—and he did so with his hands.

  She felt the brush of his fingers on her cheeks and then the soft pressure as he held her face. Surely the eternal flame flared, because something lit the sky and seared her as his lips made first contact.

  Just the gentlest brush at first then soft and slow and exploring.

  His kiss made her slightly giddy in a way no other had. His touch was both tender and firm and she felt she could fall right now and be caught, even though his hands barely held her.

  Only once did she peek. Ariana opened her eyes, while praying that she wouldn’t be caught, for she did not want to break this spell. Gian’s eyes were closed, though, as if savouring the most exquisite wine. He continued to hold her cheeks, so firmly now that her head could not move. He kissed her thoroughly and his lips were like velvet, his tongue so shockingly intimate it felt charged as each stroke shot volts of ecstasy to her own. His hand moved into her hair, holding the back of her head and knotting into her scalp as his tongue danced with hers.

  A craving for more built in her but he pulled back. Gian looked at her wet lips and dilated pupils and the frantic, somewhat startled look and he tried to rein in his usual common sense. ‘I should get you home...’

  ‘Please,’ Ariana said, but her voice was low and husky and told them both what she wanted.

  Ariana’s decision was made.

  Gian De Luca would be her first.

  Perhaps that was the reason she had held on for so long, because there was no one else who held a candle to him. No one who made her shiver, even without touching her, no one who made her mouth want to know his kiss...

  ‘Ariana.’ His voice was gruff. ‘When I said home, I meant to your door.’ Gian was serious. A kiss was one thing, but bedding her was out of the question. ‘If we were so much as seen out together...’

  ‘That would get them talking.’ Ariana smiled as Gian clearly hated the thought. ‘Mamma would have us married in a moment if she knew her virgin daughter was out with the Duke...’ Her voice trailed off, unsure how Gian would receive the news of her inexperience, but he gave a low laugh.

  Ariana was not, he knew, dropping in his title; instead she was capturing her mother’s thought process and agreeing with exactly how it would be if they were seen. ‘Exactly. Though,’ he added, ‘I’m sure all mothers think their daughters are virgins.’

  ‘But I am one.’

  He almost laughed again, and then realised she wasn’t laughing. He almost hauled her off him, but decided that reaction might be a bit extreme and so instead he offered her his smile.

  His duty smile, which she determinedly ignored.

  ‘Let’s get you home...’ Gian said.

  ‘Yes,’ Ariana agreed. ‘Take me to bed.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  And he meant it, for he was headed down the steps. Ariana did not quite know what she’d done wrong, just that everything had changed.

  ‘Gian.’ Now she really did have to practically run to keep up with him. ‘Why are you being like this? Didn’t you like our kiss?’

  ‘It was a kiss,’ Gian snapped, ‘not an open invitation.’

  But Ariana would not relent. She had made up her mind and was all too used to getting her own way. ‘I want my f
irst to be you.’

  ‘Well, it won’t be. If we are even as much as seen, people will talk and it will be...’ He had to be cruel to be kind. ‘They will turn it into something bigger than it is.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Do you?’ Gian checked. ‘Do you understand that I don’t do relationships? That the very last thing I want is to be involved in someone else’s life?’

  ‘You’re always dating.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So what’s the difference?’ Ariana frowned. ‘I might be innocent in the bedroom, but I am not stupid, Gian...’

  ‘I never said you were.’

  ‘I’m not asking for love. I don’t want lies to appease and promises that you won’t keep,’ Ariana said. ‘I’m all too familiar with them, but I do want you to make love to me.’

  ‘Ariana—’

  ‘No,’ she broke in, and they argued in loud Italian all the way home. ‘Don’t make me ashamed for admitting it. I’m twenty-five and a virgin. I don’t want to be married, Gian. Do you not think my mother has endless suitors in mind for me? I can’t have a casual relationship or it will be a kiss and tell. You know that...’

  He looked at the spoilt, immature Ariana speaking like the woman she was.

  ‘Surely there have been kisses...?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘plastic kisses from plastic men, but your kiss nearly made me come.’

  He laughed because she fascinated him.

  Like a stunning portrait, like a song you had to pause just to go back and listen to the lyrics again.

  He loved how she stated her case.

  They argued all the way to the swish apartment block where she lived. ‘I get that I’m not as experienced or as worldly as Svetlana...’

  ‘Stop,’ Gian said. ‘Just stop right there. Why would you sign up for inevitable hurt, Ariana?’ Gian asked. ‘You know it’ll go public, and you know your family will find out, and I know that I’ll end things...’

  ‘How?’ Ariana asked. She wasn’t begging or persuading, more genuinely perplexed. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because I never want to get too close. I date women who understand from the get-go that we’ll never progress further than we did on the very first night.’

  ‘So I would get no more than a kiss and a cone of hot chestnuts,’ she teased. ‘Well, rest assured, you wouldn’t have to worry about dumping me, Gian. I would grow bored with you very quickly.’

  He didn’t smile at her joke and he would not relent, but rather than face being alone she turned off the voices in her head and tried to argue with a kiss. She put her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his, but there was no longer solace there for his was pressed closed and unyielding, and she sobbed as he pulled his head back.

  ‘Go in!’ he warned her.

  ‘Please, Gian, I don’t want to be lonely tonight.’

  But when he remained silent, Ariana got the message. He did not want her, so she scrabbled around for her dignity. ‘Thank you for seeing me to my door.’

  ‘Get some sleep.’ Gian said.

  ‘Oh, please,’ Ariana scoffed as she huffed off. ‘As if that’s going to happen.’

  He watched her leave, and by honouring Rafael he felt like he’d failed her. ‘Ariana...’ Gian called out, and it troubled him how quickly she turned and was back at his side.

  He would not sleep with her, no matter how much they both wanted it.

  He would do the right thing by Rafael and Ariana.

  ‘I’ll come in, but I’m taking the sofa.’ She nodded, both regret and relief flooding through her as he spoke on. ‘You don’t have to be alone tonight.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  THEY PASSED THE dozing doorman and took the elevator, although Gian stood like a security guard to the side of her, rather than like a man who had almost kissed her to orgasm.

  She was all dishevelled in her head as they stepped into her apartment. ‘Thankfully,’ Ariana said as she closed the drapes, ‘it was serviced while I was away, or we would be knee-deep in...’ Her voice trailed off.

  Knee-deep in what? Gian wanted to ask, for there was no real evidence of her here. He could be walking into any well-heeled woman’s apartment in Rome—and Gian had walked into many—and the décor would be much the same. It was all very tasteful with plump sofas and modern prints, yet it was rather like a show home and there was barely a hint of Ariana. Even her bookshelves offered no real clues, for there were a few classics on the shelves as well as elegant coffee table books. There were at least some photos up, but even they seemed carefully chosen to show, so to speak, only her best side.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’ Ariana offered.

  ‘No, thank you.’

  Now that she had him here, Ariana didn’t quite know what to do with him. It was, she thought, a bit like stealing a bear from the zoo, making it your mission to get him home and then...

  ‘I’ll show you around,’ she offered, ‘where you’re sleeping. Given that you’d rather it wasn’t with me.’

  ‘I don’t need a tour,’ Gian responded. ‘I will stay here.’ He pointed to the sofa.

  ‘I do have a guest room.’

  ‘I’m not here to relax.’

  ‘You are such a cold comfort.’

  ‘Better than no comfort at all. I do have some scruples, Ariana. I am not going to make love to you on the night of your father’s funeral when you are upset and not thinking straight.’

  ‘Oh, believe me, I am thinking straight. Life is short, Gian, life is for living, for loving.’

  ‘Then you’ve come to the wrong man because, as I’ve repeatedly said, I don’t do love.’

  She wanted to stamp her feet. She knew she was being a bit of a diva but she was beyond caring.

  When Ariana wanted something, she wanted it now, and when she’d made up her mind...well, it was made up.

  ‘Can you unzip my dress, please?’ Ariana lifted her hair and stood with her back to him, waiting for the teeniest indicator—a run of his finger, a lingering palm, him holding his breath—as he found the little clasp at the top of the velvet dress and undid it. Yet Gian was a master of self-control and without lingering he tugged the zip down so that her back and the lacy straps of her black bra were exposed.

  ‘There,’ he said, with all the excitement of an accountant relocating a decimal point.

  She turned around and her dress slipped down, exposing her shoulders and décolletage, but he looked straight into her glittering eyes and smothered a yawn. ‘It’s been a long day,’ Gian said. ‘Perhaps you should go to bed.’

  ‘So much for the playboy of Rome,’ she sneered as she headed for her room, embarrassed that he clearly did not want her.

  No wonder, Ariana thought as she stood in the bathroom and looked at her blotchy tear-streaked face.

  She cleansed her skin and then ran a brush listlessly through her hair. She pulled on some shorts and a T-shirt and then climbed into bed. Sulking, she pulled the covers up to her chin.

  ‘Do you want milk or something?’ Gian called.

  ‘I’m not ten!’ she shouted through the darkness. It was worse having him here like this than being alone. Except, as she lay in the dark, Ariana knew that wasn’t strictly true. She loathed the dark and the night, especially since her father died, and now it did not seem quite as dark and the place not quite so lonely.

  In fact, there was comfort just knowing that Gian was near.

  Finally, whatever it was that had possessed her, that had had her angrily demanding sex, left her.

  Oh, Papà!

  Gian listened to her cry, and knew that for once it was not for attention. Though it killed him not to go to her, Gian knew they were necessary tears.

  He opened the drapes and looked for something to read. Some might call it snooping, but really he was looking for some
where to charge his phone when a cupboard fell open and he could see that this was where Ariana had been hiding. It was rather chaotic and piled high with photos, wads and wads of them, and dated boxes too. Ah, so she must have been knee-deep in photos, Gian realised, trying to choose some favourites for the funeral montage. As well as that, there were fashion magazines and blockbusters and recipe books...

  An awful lot of them!

  Gian selected one and tried to block out her tears by reading. He just stared at the method for tempering white chocolate until finally she fell into silence.

  He was reading how to make cannelloni when he heard her again.

  It was almost hourly, like some tragic cuckoo clock, but Gian kept the door between them closed for he would not sleep with her on the night of her father’s funeral. Surely only foolish decisions were made then...

  Gian was completely matter-of-fact about sex. To him it was as necessary as breathing. Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but he felt he would not have lived to the age of twenty-five without the escape of it, and he knew he could give her that, but only when her head was clear.

  To know she trusted him was significant, for the thought of her misplacing her trust in someone else left him cold.

  He watched the black sky turn to a steel grey and, even though Gian knew his logic was flawed, when the silver mist of a new day dawned and he heard her little cry, Gian went through and sat on the bed.

  Ariana was far from a temptress at dawn. She covered her face with one hand as he came in, and little bits of last night played like taunting movies.

  ‘Did I make a complete fool of myself?’ she asked in a pained voice.

  ‘Of course not,’ he said magnanimously, then teased her with a slow smile. ‘You just pleaded with me to make love to you.’

  ‘Perhaps it was the cognac,’ she said hopefully, but they both knew it had been a small sip and that had been back in Luctano. There had been a lot of walking and talking since then and she could hardly blame the chestnuts! ‘I’m sorry for my behaviour. I don’t actually fancy you, Gian.’

  ‘Really?’