Ultimate Heroes Collection

by Various Authors

  His hair was damp from the shower, his jaw freshly shaved and he smelt delicious. He was shockingly handsome, she thought despairingly. High cheekbones, bronzed skin, thick lashes—what woman could ever resist him? Memories of their passionate encounter the night before suddenly made her limbs weaken. Maybe she should just suggest they made a baby? she thought helplessly as she dragged her eyes away from his face. At least that way he’d take her back to bed.

  ‘Did you just say that this place is your home? You actually live here?’

  ‘When it suits me.’ He was studying her face with brooding contemplation. ‘I have several homes. I thought you knew that.’

  ‘But I didn’t know you had one in Florence.’ She glanced around her. ‘It’s truly amazing. Like a palace.’

  ‘It was originally a palazzo, built in the sixteenth century. Then there was a big family squabble about ownership and it was left to rot. It was a crumbling, neglected wreck when I bought it ten years ago. I’ve had a team working on its restoration ever since. It’s coming along nicely.’

  ‘Incredible,’ Chessie breathed, her head tilted backwards as she looked at the height of the courtyard. ‘Can I look round properly?’

  ‘Later, when we’re back from our trip.’

  ‘Trip?’ She dragged her eyes back to his. ‘What trip? Don’t you have to work today?’

  ‘You’ve obviously been so involved in your drawing that you haven’t noticed that it’s already almost the afternoon. I worked most of the night and all through this morning. My wife is complaining that I’ve been neglecting her,’ he said in a silky tone, ‘so I intend to rectify that.’

  ‘Oh. I assumed you’d send me back to Sicily.’ She blushed slightly as she caught the sardonic gleam in his eye. ‘So where are we going?’

  ‘Shopping. If you want a new wardrobe then I’m prepared to buy you one. But I’m afraid I’m going to decide what’s suitable and what isn’t. No more appearing in public in your underwear.’

  Chessie didn’t know what to make of that comment. Was he trying to say that he’d liked the way she’d looked? No, obviously not, since he intended to buy her something entirely different.

  ‘I don’t really need clothes. I don’t exactly go anywhere that requires dressing up.’ Chessie scraped her fingers through her newly cut hair, which fell in a gratifyingly perfect sheet over one shoulder.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘They did a good job on your hair. It looks fantastic. And you will be going somewhere that requires new clothes, because I intend to take you for lunch.’

  ‘Why?’

  He frowned briefly, as if the thought hadn’t previously occurred to him, then he shrugged. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I thought my role was to be locked up at home until I produce a brood of sons?’

  ‘Don’t push your luck, tesoro,’ he warned, but there was amusement in his eyes as he stretched out a hand and took hers in a firm grasp. ‘Today I’m taking you out. There are some questions I want to ask you. Questions that I probably should have asked a long time ago.’

  There were some questions she wanted to ask him too—like why he was bothering—but he was already striding back into the palazzo and towards the door that led into the street.

  Wondering if he knew the meaning of the word ‘relax,’ Chessie struggled to keep up, relieved that her shoes were more forgiving than the ones she’d worn the previous evening.

  He took her to a small boutique in a quiet back street, away from the throng of tourists.

  It was subdued and elegant, full of tall plants and creamy polished marble, and the sort of place that she would have been far too terrified to enter had he not pushed her inside in his usual decisive fashion.

  Feeling horribly self-conscious, Chessie rifled through the rails. ‘There are no prices.’

  Rocco gave a faint smile. ‘If you need to look at the prices then you probably can’t afford to shop here. But fortunately you can, angelo mio. Choose something you like.’

  ‘Don’t you mean something you like?’ she muttered, and his smile widened.

  ‘Actually, yes, I suppose I do mean that.’ He spoke without a trace of remorse. ‘And what’s wrong with that?’

  She glanced at him with exasperation and gave a brief shake of her head. Still, at least he’d agreed that she needed clothes, which was a start, and he was taking her out. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘I’ve already told you. Lunch.’

  ‘Somewhere special?’

  He gave a faint smile of amusement. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then I’ll need something summery but smart.’ Immediately her eye was caught by a summer dress. It was a vibrant shade of red with white spots. ‘That’s pretty. Is it decent enough for you?’ Her sarcasm appeared lost on him.

  ‘Try it on and I’ll soon tell you.’ He lifted it from the rail and handed it to the assistant who was hovering.

  Five minutes later, Chessie was staring at herself in the floor-length mirror and trying not to drool. The dress was fabulous. Gorgeous. And, what was more, it fell below the knee—and the neckline would have satisfied a nun, so Rocco couldn’t possibly object.

  ‘Are you decent?’ Rocco’s deep, dark drawl came from outside the cubicle and she felt her pulse suddenly race. He couldn’t possibly hate it, she assured herself as she unlocked the door and stood in front of him.

  ‘Well?’

  For a moment he didn’t speak, and then his mouth tightened and his eyes hardened. ‘You’re not leaving this boutique dressed like that.’

  Dressed like what?

  Speechless and confused, she glanced at herself in the mirror, trying to see what she’d missed. Was the dress backless? Was it see-through? The answer was a definite no to both questions, and she turned back to him with a murmur of exasperation. ‘I don’t understand. What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘It shows every curve of your body. That’s what’s wrong with it.’

  Anger and frustration started to bubble up inside her. ‘Rocco.’ With a huge effort, she kept her tone patient. ‘Apart from the colour, this dress would not look out of place in a convent.’

  His handsome face unsmiling, he turned to the assistant and gave her a brief on exactly what he wanted. Nothing low, nothing short, nothing revealing.

  The woman hurried away, and eventually returned with armfuls of clothes. Chessie tried them on, her sense of frustration increasing as Rocco rejected them all as unsuitable, his dark eyes reflecting a slow-building anger.

  As she paraded the eleventh item and he shook his head she felt her own temper begin to sizzle. ‘Rocco, this is ridiculous. I have to wear something. These clothes are fabulous. Really, really stylish. What was the point of bringing me here if you’re not going to let me buy anything? You suggested this shop. You were the one who said that it sold all the right things.’

  He let out a driven sigh and stabbed his fingers through his hair. ‘I thought it would be fine, but it isn’t. It’s all too revealing.’

  ‘Revealing?’ Chessie grabbed a pair of trousers that he’d rejected and virtually thrust them under his nose ‘What about these? They can hardly be described as revealing!’

  His shoulders tensed. ‘They clung to every curve.’

  ‘They don’t cling. They skim. They’re well cut and perfectly decent.’

  ‘Every man you pass will be looking at your bottom,’ he growled, and she opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again, her mind suddenly racing.

  ‘Because I have good child-bearing hips, you mean?’

  ‘No.’ He gave a humourless laugh. ‘Because you have a bottom straight out of a bad man’s dreams, that’s why.’

  Her heart and stomach gave a little flip. ‘So what you’re actually saying is that you really like my bottom?’

  The tension in his powerful frame increased. ‘Whether or not I like your bottom isn’t the issue.’ There was no trace of amusement in his gaze. ‘The issue is whether I want to see your attributes on display, and I don’
t.’ He was becoming more and more uptight, and Chessie suddenly started to feel better.

  ‘So the reason that you don’t want to see my bottom is not because you find me repulsive but because you don’t want other men to admire me?’ She handed the trousers to the assistant, who was hovering. ‘Because you’re jealous? That’s the best news I’ve had for a long time, Rocco.’

  ‘I’mnot jealous,’ he breathed. ‘And I don’t know why you’re giving those trousers to her, because you’re not having them. And I fail to see how the fact that I’m about to strangle you with my bare hands can possibly be good news for either of us.’

  She gave him a womanly smile and had the satisfaction of seeing his gaze darken. ‘Don’t worry, Rocco,’ she said soothingly, also handing the assistant two dresses, a lacy top and two jackets. ‘I think you’re just starting to come to terms with the fact that a man can see his wife as something other than a baby producing machine. You find me sexy, don’t you? You don’t want to, but you do. Be honest.’

  He inhaled sharply. ‘Francesca—’

  ‘Admit it, Rocco.’ She lowered her voice so that only he could hear her. ‘Last night in the car—’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about last night.’

  ‘Well, I do—because it’s really important. You wanted me. Badly. Not because you wanted to make babies, but because you wanted to have wild and abandoned sex. You kept holding back, and I thought it was because you didn’t find me attractive. But I’m starting to think that you do. And you’re not at all comfortable with that because I’m your wife, and you have this distorted idea that you’re not supposed to feel that way about me.’

  He froze, his jaw suddenly tense. ‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. We’re standing in a dress shop.’

  ‘Boutique,’ Chessie said sweetly, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Suddenly she felt impossibly light-headed and happy. ‘Stop looking so uptight. I like the fact that you find me sexy. It’s what I wanted. Now I just need you to ravish me the way you did in the car.’

  His shoulders stiffened. ‘I hurt you,’ he said in a hoarse voice. ‘You were crying in your room last night.’

  ‘Because you walked away from me. You didn’t hurt me, Rocco. I loved what we did.’

  His jaw was clenched. ‘We won’t be doing it again. Not like that.’

  ‘Yes, we will, Rocco.’ Her voice was soft. ‘And just to make sure of it you’re going to take me to a lingerie shop next.’

  ‘Lingerie?’ He said the word as though it were stuck in his throat, and her smile widened.

  ‘Yes, lingerie. Why not? The sexier the better.’ She allowed her tongue to linger over the words and had the satisfaction of seeing his breathing quicken. ‘The sort that bad men fantasise about, along with the body inside. The sort I was wearing last night when you completely forgot that I was your wife and that we were in the back of your car. The sort designed for seduction.’

  His bronze cheeks lost some of their colour. ‘And just who are you planning to seduce?’

  ‘You, of course.’ She breathed the words softly, so that they couldn’t be overheard. ‘So far you’ve done all the seducing, but that’s about to change. We’re married, Rocco. Seduction should be part of the job description. I’m not talking about making babies. I’m talking about making love.’

  ‘Francesca—’ He slid a finger inside the collar of his shirt and swore softly. ‘Chessie—’

  Loving the fact that he seemed lost for words for the first time in their relationship, she stood on tiptoe again and leaned closer, a smile touching her mouth as she whispered against his ear. ‘Are you going to hand me your wallet, or would you like me to search for it?’

  With a smouldering glance that promised retribution, Rocco produced his credit card and handed it to the enraptured assistant. ‘Don’t think you’re wearing any of those clothes outside the palazzo,’ he growled under his breath, but Chessie’s smile simply brightened as she walked past him to pick up the small mountain of bags.

  He found her sexy.

  Rocco really, really found her sexy.

  He might not want to find her sexy. He might want to think that having a wife was all about producing babies. But that didn’t change the fact that he thought she looked good in the clothes. Too good.

  All she had to do now was try and loosen him up a little. Persuade him that it was perfectly acceptable to desire his own wife.

  ‘How far is this restaurant?’

  ‘A short drive.’ They’d swapped the limousine for a low, lethal-looking Maserati, and Rocco drove with the relaxed skill of a racing driver as he put the car through its paces on the road out of the city. The engine gave a throaty growl, and people turned their heads to look and admire. ‘It’s on a hill. The views are incredible.’

  ‘A short drive? Good. In that case, close your eyes.’ Opening one of the bags, she dipped inside and pulled out the spotty dress. Then she slid lower in her seat and pulled off her top.

  The car swerved dangerously. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Changing?’ She wriggled into the dress and then slid out of her trousers. ‘I want to wear this dress to lunch. Shouldn’t you keep your eyes on the road?’

  A muscle worked in his jaw as he tightened his hands on the wheel. ‘You can’t undress in public.’

  ‘Calm down. I’ve already done it. No one noticed.’

  ‘I noticed,’ he said and she smiled.

  ‘Good. You were supposed to.’ Loving the feel of the dress against her body, Chessie dipped into another bag, this time retrieving the shoes she’d purchased to go with the dress. Finally she gave her newly cut hair a shake and applied a touch of gloss to her mouth. ‘You’re not watching the road again, Rocco.’

  ‘With you half-naked next to me, is that really surprising? I’m wondering what happened to the demure, innocent girl I married,’ he muttered, and she slid across the seat towards him, smiling as the wind blew her hair across her face.

  ‘I might have been innocent, but I was never demure. Just repressed. But I’m getting over that now,’ she said happily, her gaze flirtatious as she slid her hand over his shoulder and looked up at him. ‘I speak my mind with you.’

  ‘I’d noticed.’

  ‘And it’s very exciting, knowing that I can try doing new things.’

  The hard muscle of his shoulder tensed under her fingers. ‘What new things, exactly?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I’ve never been free to do whatever I like before.’

  ‘And you’re not free to do whatever you like now,’ he reminded her in flinty tones. ‘Perhaps this is a good time to remind you that, whatever you plan on trying, I’m going to be standing right next to you.’

  Chessie relaxed back against the seat and closed her eyes, enjoying the decadent feeling of the open topped car. ‘That’s fine by me. I love this car, by the way.’

  ‘I don’t understand you at all.’ She caught the exasperation in his tone and her smile was sympathetic.

  ‘I suspect you’ve never understood any woman before now—but there’s always a first time, and I’ve always been an optimist.’

  She wanted him to understand her?

  Not a cat in hell’s chance, Rocco thought wryly as he guided her onto the terrace of the restaurant. She was a mass of contradictions.

  She walked in front of him and he immediately forgot what it was he was supposed to understand—because he found himself utterly transfixed by the tempting curve of her bottom. She walked with a graceful, swaying motion that was unconsciously sexy and almost painfully alluring, and it took only one glance for him to confirm that every male eye in the restaurant was fixed on his wife.

  Feeling his stress levels soar, Rocco ran a hand over the back of his neck and wondered what had possessed him to take her shopping.

  He should have left her in drab black.

  He’d liked her in drab black. It was safe, and it didn’t give him problems with his blood pressure.

  T
he change in her was astonishing—and it wasn’t just the clothes. It was the way she carried herself, as if she’d suddenly discovered the meaning of the word confidence.

  Accustomed to the heat and humidity of an Italian summer, Rocco suddenly wondered why the air seemed so stifling.

  With the incident in the car still painfully fresh in his mind, he dragged his gaze away from her tempting curves and tried to concentrate on something suitably boring and safe.

  When he’d married Chessie he’d been drawn to her sweet nature and her timidity. Coming to terms with the fact that his wife had transformed herself into a sex siren was requiring some significant adaptation on his part.

  He was still recalling every detail of their steamy encounter in the car with an uncomfortable degree of clarity, and no matter how hard he concentrated, he was unable to look at her in the same way.

  If he looked at her hair he just remembered it soft and tangled, falling over his face as they’d kissed and made love.

  If he looked at her mouth he just remembered the desperate little moans she’d made as they’d kissed and made love.

  If he looked at her body he just remembered the sensuous writhing of her hips as they’d kissed and made love.

  Deciding that the only way to preserve his sanity was to concentrate on the menu and the view, Rocco struggled to find his customary control—and failed.

  As they settled down at the best table in the restaurant she gave a gasp of delight, oblivious to the fact that she was the object of attention from several quarters of the room. ‘I can see the whole of Florence from here. Oh, Rocco, it’s beautiful.’

  She was sweet, he thought to himself. And she never chose her words for effect, as every other woman he knew did. Chessie just said what she thought. She didn’t hold anything back.

  The thought of her not holding anything back drew his mind again to her passionate response in the car, and Rocco hastily ordered drinks, struggling to control his suddenly ravenous libido.

  Suddenly aware that the man at the table nearest to them was staring in open-mouthed appreciation at Chessie’s generous curves, he glared a warning at him and wondered whether he should summon his helicopter and fly her back to Sicily.