A Bride Worth Millions

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A Bride Worth Millions Page 12

by Chantelle Shaw


  But all he wanted was to spend an afternoon enjoying sex with no strings attached, and he remembered Athena had told him that she regarded making love as a physical expression of being in love. It was enough to make any sensible man run a mile.

  Maybe some people did find happy-ever-after—Luca thought of Kadir and Lexi in Zenhab. But even if he had wanted a relationship with a woman that involved spending time with her on both sides of the bedroom door, it wasn’t possible. He was committed to caring for his daughter, whose life was slowly being destroyed by a terrible disease, and just as important as his devotion to Rosalie was the terrible secret he carried, along with the gut-wrenching sense of guilt, which had led to his decision to remain single.

  The ticking clock sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet library. Athena could hardly breathe as she recognised the gleam of desire in Luca’s eyes, and she found she was mentally urging him to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

  He moved towards her, but at that moment Geomar appeared in the doorway and spoke to Luca in Italian. Athena could not understand anything of the conversation between the two men, but she stiffened when she heard the name Maria.

  In Las Vegas, Luca’s PA had mentioned Maria. Was she one of the women who drove up to the villa and then disappeared?

  Athena would have liked to ask Luca, but he took no more notice of her as he finished talking to the butler and strode out of the library.

  * * *

  Ominous purple clouds obscured the mountaintops, and the air in the courtyard at the front of the villa was so hot and still that it felt as if there was no air at all. Geomar had told Athena he thought a storm was brewing when she had passed him in the hall on her way outside. She wondered if it would be cooler down by the lake and started to walk in that direction.

  Her route took her along a path next to the high wall that had the locked door in it. There was probably no mystery on the other side, she told herself, just as there was probably a simple explanation for the women who arrived at the villa but she had never met. She was allowing her imagination to run away with her.

  But she was sure she hadn’t imagined the faint sound of a child crying during the night. And she definitely wasn’t imagining the sound of Luca’s voice coming from the other side of the wall.

  Athena stopped and strained her ears. She recognised Luca’s gravelly tones, but not the woman’s voice. Laughter drifted over the wall. Luca and his companion were speaking in Italian, and again he said the name Maria. Athena felt a spurt of anger. It was true that her marriage to Luca was in name only, but it wasn’t right for him to entertain his lover—perhaps lovers—under the same roof as his wife.

  She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and looked up at the wall. From the ground it did not look terribly high, and the missing bricks in places would provide hand and footholds if she was mad enough to decide to climb to the top—which of course she wasn’t.

  She heard another peal of laughter. The mystery woman was evidently enjoying Luca’s company. Damn it! What was going on behind the wall? Athena’s curiosity got the better of her dislike of heights and, fuelled by temper and bravado, she began to climb.

  It was surprisingly easy. The old bricks were worn, giving her plenty of places to grip while she hauled herself up. Determined to see what was on the other side, she continued to climb until she was almost at the top, and then she managed to hook one leg over so that she was straddling the wall.

  Below her was a pretty garden with wide paths bordered by lavender hedges. The spires of purple flowers were fading in late summer, but even from her high vantage point Athena could smell their sweet scent. In the centre of the garden was a pond and next to it a beautiful weeping willow tree, with sweeping branches that reached down to the water.

  There was no sign of Luca or the woman in the garden. Athena looked towards the house just as a woman appeared at the window. She recognised her as the pretty dark-haired woman she had seen arriving at the villa every morning. The woman looked shocked when she stared up at the wall, and quickly drew the curtains across the window.

  ‘Santa Madonna! You crazy woman! What the devil are you doing?’

  Luca’s furious voice caused Athena to jerk her head round, and she realised that he had unlocked the door and walked through to the opposite side of the wall—where she had been standing when she had first heard his voice. She stared down at him—which was a mistake, because now she was aware of just how high up she was, and immediately felt dizzy.

  ‘Sit still while I go and find a ladder,’ he commanded.

  She wanted to assure him that she had no intention of not sitting still, but her vocal cords, like every muscle in her body, had seized up with fear. Her head started to spin, and she gave a cry as she toppled from the top of the wall...

  Luca was staring down at her when Athena’s lashes fluttered open.

  ‘This is becoming a habit,’ Luca growled, reminding her of when he had caught her after she had climbed out of the window at the Fairfaxes’ home, Woodley Lodge, on her wedding day.

  Instead of marrying Charlie, she had married Luca—and swapped one unfaithful husband for another, she thought with a rush of temper.

  ‘I told you that the area beyond the wall was out of bounds.’ Luca felt a fresh surge of anger as he set Athena down on her feet. Thank God he had managed to catch her. ‘Your stupid actions could have resulted in you breaking your neck.’

  The word stupid acted like a red rag to a bull for Athena. Just because she wasn’t a brilliant academic, like her parents, she had spent her whole life feeling a failure, and had meekly allowed herself to be bossed around by Charlie. It was time she stood up for herself.

  ‘I wanted to find out why the other side of the wall was out of bounds, and now I know,’ she told Luca hotly. ‘It’s where you entertain your mistresses. I suppose the room I saw is your harem?’

  ‘My harem?’

  Luca looked so astounded that Athena felt a tiny flicker of doubt.

  ‘Yes,’ she ploughed on. ‘I’ve seen the women who arrive at the villa every morning and evening.’

  She thought of the attractive dark-haired woman who had shut the curtains, and jealousy fizzed like corrosive acid in her stomach.

  ‘I know you have a reputation as a playboy, but do you really need your girlfriends to work a double shift? No wonder I haven’t seen you since we arrived at Villa De Rossi. I suppose you’ve been in there—’ she pointed at the door in the wall, which led to the garden and the rooms beyond ‘—with your women.’

  Various thoughts circled in Luca’s mind—one being that Athena was incredibly sexy when she was angry. He forced his gaze up from the swift rise and fall of her breasts and narrowed his eyes on her flushed face. The slight tremor of her bottom lip touched something inside him.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said coolly. ‘I have spent the past few days in a part of the house that Geomar would not have taken you to when he showed you around.’ He frowned. ‘But I do not have a harem, and the women you have seen are not my mistresses.’

  Athena stubbornly refused to back down. ‘Well, who are they, then?’

  Luca came to a decision. He was fairly certain Athena was not a hard-nosed gold-digger like Giselle—although she had married him for a million pounds, he reminded himself. He frowned again. He could not keep his daughter a secret for a year, he acknowledged.

  ‘You had better come and meet Maria and Rosalie,’ he said abruptly.

  Athena’s heart was thumping as she followed Luca through the door in the wall. He had insisted that Maria and the other woman he had called Rosalie were not his mistresses—so who were they?

  Unlike the gravel paths in other areas of the villa’s grounds, the paths in the garden were made of smooth stone, and the garden’s beds were planted with lavender and other fragrant herbs—rosemary, ba
sil and thyme—which released their scent as she brushed past them.

  Luca led her through big glass doors into a room that she instantly realised was unlike any other room in the villa. It was like a hospital room, with a bed that could be raised and lowered, and there were oxygen tanks stacked against one wall.

  Against another wall was a huge fish tank filled with brightly coloured fish, but Athena barely noticed it for her attention was focused on a young girl—it was difficult to guess her age—who was sitting in a wheelchair. Standing next to the wheelchair was the dark-haired woman, who was even prettier close up than Athena had realised when she had seen her from a distance.

  Luca introduced the woman. ‘This is Maria. She is one of Rosalie’s carers.’ He crouched down in front of the girl in the wheelchair. ‘Athena, I’d like you to meet my daughter—Rosalie.’

  At the sound of his voice, his daughter smiled. She was extraordinarily beautiful, with black curly hair and Luca’s amber-coloured eyes, Athena noticed dazedly. But it was obvious that Rosalie had severe disabilities, which meant that she was confined to the wheelchair.

  ‘Rosalie suffers from a rare degenerative illness called Rett Syndrome,’ Luca explained quietly. ‘The condition affects mainly girls, and is incurable.’ He gently stroked his daughter’s cheek and his voice deepened with emotion as he continued. ‘A few years ago Rosalie could walk and talk. Sadly she can’t do those things now. But she loves listening to music and watching her fish, and she especially loves to sit beneath the weeping willow tree in the garden.’

  Acting instinctively, Athena knelt down beside Luca so that her face was level with his daughter’s. ‘Hello, Rosalie. I’m pleased to meet you,’ she said softly. She gave Luca a rueful look. ‘I don’t suppose she can understand me? I wish I knew some Italian.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. We are not sure how much she understands, but she will like hearing your voice.’ He stood up as Maria came back into the room.

  ‘I give Rosalie a drink?’ the nurse said in hesitant English. She gave Athena a friendly smile. ‘The weather—he is very hot. I think a storm will come.’

  ‘You could be right.’ Luca glanced outside at the sullen clouds that had covered up the sun. ‘I’ll give Rosalie her drink.’ He looked at Athena. ‘You don’t mind if we stay for a while?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she assured him quickly.

  It took a good ten minutes for Luca to help his daughter drink from a special feeding cup, and afterwards he lifted her onto his lap and read to her. His voice was softer than Athena had ever heard it, and tears pricked her eyes when she saw his obvious devotion to Rosalie.

  They stayed for half an hour or so, before Luca tenderly kissed his daughter’s brow. ‘I’ll come and see you later, mio angelo.’ Turning to Athena, he said, ‘Rosalie will probably have a nap, so we’ll go now.’

  Her mind was swimming with questions as she walked with him through the lavender garden. She was struggling to equate Luca, the world-famous fashion designer dubbed a playboy by the paparazzi, with the deeply caring father of a disabled child she had seen just now.

  ‘Where is Rosalie’s mother?’

  ‘Jodie lives in New Zealand and by her own choice has no contact with her daughter. She couldn’t cope when Rosalie was diagnosed with Rett’s at two years old,’ he said, in answer to Athena’s look of surprise. ‘It’s a cruel disease.’

  Luca’s jaw clenched.

  ‘You don’t know what it’s like to watch your child slip away from you bit by bit and be unable to help. All I can do for Rosalie is spend as much time as I possibly can with her and make sure she has the best medical care. She has frequent seizures, which means that she can never be left alone. A nurse looks after her night and day, and Maria often brings her own children to the villa, so that Rosalie has company even though she can never play or run around and do all the normal things children enjoy,’ he said heavily.

  He looked around the garden.

  ‘I believe she is happy here. She loves the weeping willow tree. This is my daughter’s home,’ His voice had suddenly become fierce. ‘When my grandmother wrote her damned will she did not think about how Rosalie would be affected if I was denied ownership of Villa De Rossi and had to move her to a new house away from familiar surroundings.’

  Athena swallowed the lump in her throat caused by Luca’s emotive outburst. ‘Is that why you were so determined to marry and comply with the terms of your grandmother’s will?’ she said softly.

  He nodded. ‘Being chairman of De Rossi Enterprises is not a huge deal for me, and even if I had lost the right to use the De Rossi name for my fashion label I would have continued the company under a different name. My grandmother used my love for my daughter to manipulate me,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘Why did your grandmother want you to marry?’

  ‘She disapproved of my reputation as a playboy—a reputation that has been exaggerated by the press, by the way. But mainly Nonna Violetta disapproved of me, the bastardo, and I think she wrote that will because she liked to make trouble.’

  Luca fell silent, clearly lost in his thoughts. Athena wanted to ask him if he had been married to Rosalie’s mother. She also wondered why he had not told her about his daughter when he had proposed his marriage deal. More than anything else she felt guilty for her curiosity and the awful accusations she had made.

  ‘I’m sorry for the things I said,’ she murmured as she followed him through the door in the wall. ‘All that stuff about you having a harem.’ She flushed beneath his cool stare. ‘My mother always says that I act first and think afterwards,’ she said ruefully.

  ‘Why were you jealous when you thought I had a mistress?’

  Luca watched in fascination as rosy colour spread from Athena’s cheeks, down her throat and across the creamy slopes of her breasts showing above her dress.

  ‘I was not jealous. That would be ridiculous,’ she muttered, ‘when our marriage is in name only.’

  A low rumble of thunder rolled down from the distant mountains, and the air prickled with the approaching electrical storm.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be,’ Luca said quietly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She swallowed when she saw his wolf’s eyes gleam with a predatory hunger. Suddenly the atmosphere between her and Luca was electrifying, making the tiny hairs on her body stand on end.

  ‘You know I want you. I made it obvious in Las Vegas. And you want me, mia bella. You can shake your head to deny it all you like, but your body is sending out a very different signal.’

  Following the direction of his gaze, Athena glanced down and saw the outline of her nipples pushing provocatively beneath her lightweight cotton dress. Her breasts felt heavy, and the warmth in Luca’s eyes was eliciting a molten heat between her legs. Half of her wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, but the other half wanted to run away from the powerful undercurrents she sensed swirling between them.

  ‘I don’t...’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  Luca saw the indecision in her eyes and decided it was time for him to take charge. She was driving him to distraction, and without giving her time to debate the issue of their mutual desire he claimed her mouth with his, intent on kissing her into willing submission.

  He felt her lips open, and her sweetly ardent response had a predictable effect on his body, so that he was instantly massively aroused.

  ‘Your body was made for pleasure,’ he told her thickly as he roamed his hands over her, shaping the gentle curve of her hips, the dip of her waist and the firm fullness of her breasts. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you in that sexy scrap of see-through lace you wore in Vegas.’

  ‘Your body was designed for sex and you’re hungry for it, aren’t you?’

  Athena tried to block out Peter Fitch’s voice,
but he was there inside her head, saying those awful things and accusing her of teasing him just because she had left the top couple of buttons on her blouse undone. She didn’t want to remember. She wanted Luca to kiss her and touch her breasts. But as he slid his hand into the top of her dress and inside her bra she froze.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  He lifted his mouth from hers and stared down at her, frustration at her sudden transformation from soft and pliant to stiff and unresponsive evident in his taut features.

  ‘Dio!’

  Luca raked a hand through his hair and was surprised to find it was wet. He had no idea when it had started raining. A loud clap of thunder shook the ground and when he looked up he saw that the sky was as black as night. The rain fell harder, flattening Athena’s hair to her head and running down her face. Luca had the strange idea that they were tears he could see on her cheeks.

  ‘You were with me all the way,’ he said harshly. ‘What brought about the change?’ His jaw hardened. ‘Or do you get a kick out of leading men on and playing hard to get?’

  ‘No! Of course not!’

  Athena’s teeth were chattering as she tried to hold herself together. Raindrops the size of coins stung her bare arms and Luca’s accusation lashed her heart. She could not blame him for thinking she was a sexual tease. She hated herself for her inability to escape from the past.

  ‘I can’t,’ she choked. ‘I just can’t.’

  She couldn’t deal with his questions. And she could see from his determined expression that he was going to demand answers. In panic, she whirled away from him—but tripped on a tree root and went sprawling down onto the gravel path. For a few seconds she was winded, and then she felt stinging pain from her grazed hands and knees. She heard the crunch of Luca’s footsteps on the gravel, and the bizarre thought went through her head that his handmade leather shoes would be ruined by the rain.

  She tensed as he gripped her arms and lifted her onto her feet, expecting his anger. But his voice was heartbreakingly gentle.

 

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