Stefano had paused and turned to face her and in that moment she had experienced a flicker of nerves at crossing some invisible line with a man with such a ferocious reputation; a billionaire who’d come from nothing and served time in jail, but then their eyes had clashed and something else had flickered inside her. Attraction.
So attractive had she found him that she’d thought long and hard before accepting his job offer. He’d assumed she was playing hardball for more money and increased his offer, but money had been the least of her concerns. Stefano had a magnetism about him, a power that clung to his tailored suits and the dashing looks of a matinee idol. All this and the element of danger that oozed from him had proven a potent mixture and one she’d been wary of committing her working life to.
In the end, the pluses of taking the job had outweighed the minuses. She had never regretted her decision. She enjoyed working with him. Even on those days when they’d be working towards some deadline that would see them in the office late in the evening, bad-tempered and shouting at each other, she had never regretted it. That she’d spent most days fighting her own responses to touch him or act in any way inappropriately was something she had learned to live with. That Stefano seemed to know exactly how badly she desired him was something she had sworn to never give him the satisfaction of confirming.
So how had he worn her defences down enough to persuade her to marry him and consider having children together?
A ring vibrated through the apartment, startling her.
‘That will be our breakfast,’ he said.
‘That was quick.’
‘That’s why I pay such a high price for the service.’ He reached the bedroom door. ‘You need to build your strength up, bellissima. I need you fit to fly in a few days.’
‘Why? Where are we going?’
‘California.’ The smile he gave was unlike any she’d seen on his lips before. ‘It’s the industry awards next week. And our first wedding anniversary. Where better to celebrate it than where it all started?’
* * *
Stefano waited until he heard the shower running, then dialled the contact on his phone.
Anna had spent her second day in the apartment sleeping on and off. After her small evening meal she’d declared she needed a shower. Her health was improving by the minute.
His call was answered within two rings.
‘Miranda, it’s Stefano,’ he said. ‘How would you like the celebrity scoop of the year?’
CHAPTER FOUR
FOR THE SECOND night in a row Anna woke to darkness and the regular deep breaths coming from her right. The covers she’d burrowed under had been pulled down and the chill of the winter night covered her skin.
Holding her breath, she turned her head to look at him. Stefano slept with his back to her, the covers twisted around his waist. As with the night before, he slept deeply. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. Her heart seemed to make a clenching motion and the urge to rest her hand against his warm skin grew almost overwhelming.
Cautiously, she tugged at the sheets, trying to dislodge them without waking him. She managed to free a couple of inches, and tried again.
She didn’t want to wake him. There was something about the darkness of night that heightened the intimacy being alone in his apartment evoked in her senses.
She would never have believed he could be so attentive. Nothing was too much trouble for him, not the endless cups of tea, the regular small meals...he’d even had a pair of pyjamas couriered to her from Selfridges. She was certain that if she were to wake him up and ask him for something he would do it without complaint. It made her realise that she must mean something to him as a wife, that he had true feelings for her. If only she could remember what her own feelings towards him were.
Eventually she came to the conclusion that she would have to wake him. It was either that or freeze.
‘Stefano,’ she whispered. When there was no response, she repeated his name, louder. Still no response.
She would have to touch him...
She took a deep breath, then quickly poked him in the back. ‘Wake up. You’ve stolen all the covers.’
It was like arguing with a corpse.
After trying to wake him a few more times with minimal contact, she sat up. Now holding her breath, she put a hand to his shoulder and gave it a quick shake before snatching her hand away.
That did the trick.
He rolled over. ‘What’s the matter? Are you feeling ill?’
‘You’re hogging the bed sheets.’ She lay back down and fixed her gaze to the ceiling, making sure to keep a good distance between them.
‘Sorry.’ He yawned widely then untangled himself and breached the small distance she’d created to pull the covers up to her shoulders. Then he settled himself back down next to her, on his side, facing her. A centimetre closer and he would be pressed against her. ‘We decided long ago that you’re a refrigerator at night and I’m a radiator.’
Going by the heat coming off him now she could believe it.
She swallowed and croaked out a reply that was nowhere near as witty or nonchalant as she wanted. ‘I normally sleep with bed socks on.’
Bed socks were as unsexy as they came and right then she was prepared to grab at anything that didn’t make her think of sex.
He chuckled lightly, as if he knew what she was thinking. He was so close his warm breath whispered against her skin. ‘You don’t need them any more. We both sleep naked. I keep you warm.’
She tried to breathe but suddenly it seemed as if all the air had been sucked from the room. As hard as she tried to resist, her head turned of its own accord to face him.
A flame flickered to life inside her, turning her core to liquid. If she rolled over she would be flush against him.
Help her, she wanted to be flush against him. Her lips tingled to feel his mouth on hers again but this time for her to be coherent enough to savour the moment.
As if he could sense her silent yearning, Stefano breached that last, tiny distance and brushed his lips to hers in the softest of caresses.
And then he pulled away and rolled over so his back was to her again. ‘Go back to sleep, bellissima.’
Anna only just stopped herself from crying out. She clamped her lips together and lay there rigidly, waiting for her heartbeat to return to its normal rhythm and the flames still flickering inside her to subside.
If they weren’t married she would be plotting her escape from this dangerous situation where the biggest peril was herself. Yet somewhere in her past, in the blank space that was her memories, Stefano had worn her defences down. She’d acted on the desire she felt for him.
And now, God help her, she wanted to act on it again.
* * *
Anna managed to fall back into a light sleep, a restless state where her body didn’t know if it was awake or dreaming. Stefano seemingly had no such problems, sleeping deeply while she lay fidgeting, her mind a whirl, questioning everything: her marriage, her sister’s betrayal... When six o’clock finally struck she decided to get up.
Physically, she felt a lot better. Almost normal. Her legs had lost the jelly-like feeling she’d been experiencing every time she stood and the ache in her head was now a dull thud rather than rivalling a pneumatic drill.
Tiptoeing over the thick carpet so as not to wake Stefano, she opened her dressing-room door and closed it quickly behind her so the light wouldn’t disturb him. It was the first time she’d entered this room.
She experienced another in a long list of surreal moments. Floor-to-ceiling fitted white wardrobes lined the walls, while at the far end of the room sat a vanity desk, a full-length mirror and a squishy armchair. And it was all hers.
She opened the nearest door and found a row of trousers and jeans. The next door opened to display a row of tops. As she fingered the expensive material of a silk green and black checked shirt that caught her eye, a memory flickered, a sudden image of herself in this very room looking a
t herself in the mirror wearing this very top.
It was the first concrete memory of her missing year since she’d woken three days ago.
* * *
Stefano woke to a bed he knew was empty before he opened his eyes. Through the duration of their marriage he’d become accustomed to waking next to Anna, usually with their arms and legs entwined. He’d learned as a teenager to sleep anywhere he could rest his head but nowhere did he sleep as deeply or as sweetly as when Anna lay beside him. He hated that fact about himself.
He shrugged on his robe and went in search of her. He found her in the kitchen looking through a drawer, dressed in her favourite green and black checked shirt and a pair of slim-fitting dark grey canvas trousers. Her hair was brushed and pulled back in a loose ponytail and on her feet were the fluffy duck slippers he’d bought as one of her birthday presents. He’d chosen them as a joke but of all the things he’d bestowed her with on that day, which included a surprise holiday to the Seychelles, the slippers had been her favourite.
He’d spotted a pair of fluffy lamb ones only a week ago and his first thought had been to buy them for her as an early Christmas present. A split second later he’d remembered that Anna no longer lived with him and the only Christmas present she would receive from him would be his contempt.
‘It’s good to see you up.’ He hooked an arm around her waist, dropped a kiss on the nape of her neck and inhaled her delicious soft floral scent.
Turning his back on her in the early hours of the night had been hard but necessary. He’d sensed her desire simmering beneath her rigid surface and known that with only a little persuasion on his part she would be his for the taking. But it was too soon for her. When he seduced her anew, he wanted his wife to be a tinderbox of desire for him. He wanted her to beg for his possession. He wanted her helpless to do anything but melt in his arms. He wanted her fully fit and knowing exactly what she was doing.
The more heightened her emotions and desire for him, the greater the low that would follow when he exacted his revenge.
She stiffened but didn’t pull away or shrug him off.
He pressed one more kiss to her neck and stepped back.
‘What are you looking for?’
She cleared her throat but kept her back to him. ‘My phone charger. I can’t find it anywhere and yours doesn’t fit into my phone.’
‘You probably left it at the flat.’ There was no probably about it.
‘Can we go and get it?’
‘Sure. What do you need it for?’
She turned her head and cast him with a glance that contained a trace of amusement. ‘To charge my phone, obviously.’
Oh, yes, she was definitely on the mend.
Then her amusement turned to a scowl and she flung the phone to one side. ‘I guess it doesn’t matter if I get the charger when I can’t remember the pin code to get into it. Do you know what it is?’
‘No.’
‘Can I use your phone?’
‘What for?’ he asked cautiously.
‘I want to call Melissa.’ There was the slightest tremor in her voice. ‘You must have her number.’
‘I do,’ he admitted. It was pointless to lie. If Anna was determined to speak to her sister she would find a way. His job at this point was to deter her. ‘Are you sure it’s wise to speak to her yet?’
‘I want to know why she’s gone to visit our mother...unless you can tell me?’
‘Her decision to go was very sudden,’ he said, thinking quickly. ‘I shouldn’t speculate what her reasons were.’
‘I only want to know why she’s gone. You say you’re my husband—this is the sort of thing a husband would know.’
‘I am your husband, Anna, but Melissa’s reasons are hers alone. I don’t think you should contact her until your memories return. If they come back to you before she gets home from Australia then you will know the truth for yourself. If they haven’t come back by then, the two of you can sit down and you can hear her reasons from her own mouth.’
Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘Our mother abandoned us to live with another man when our dad wasn’t even cold in his grave. I don’t want to wait for a month to know why Melissa’s suddenly decided to forgive her.’
Stefano strove to keep his features neutral. Anna must assume he already knew all this but he’d only known the basics about her mother’s emigration to Australia. The way she’d always spoken about it was that staying in England to live with her sister was something they’d all been happy about and that the two sisters’ estrangement from their mother had grown organically over time, a simple result of living on opposite sides of the world.
He didn’t want to know any more. She’d had a year to confide her secrets to him but had chosen to keep them to herself.
Stefano held no truck with traumatic childhoods. His own was there for the world to see. He wasn’t in the least ashamed of his past but could think of nothing worse than sitting down to dissect its effect on him. The only effect had been to act as fuel for his success.
He didn’t want to know anything more about his wife than he already did. He didn’t want to delve into her psyche and would not allow her to delve into his.
That chance had long gone.
He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. ‘I know you find Melissa’s actions painful but all that matters is getting your memories back. Everything will fall into place when they return.’
She held his gaze, the ire slowly evaporating from them until she sighed. ‘It’s not just Melissa. Or you. I feel so out of the loop with everything. I was watching the news earlier and there’s so much happening in the world I know nothing about.’
It was only eight o’clock. ‘How long have you been awake?’
‘A couple of hours. I’ve had so much sleep that I’m all rested out.’
‘You should have woken me.’
‘I knew you’d say that. And I did think about it but, other than my head aching a little, I feel normal. It would have been mean to wake you. Besides, you sleep like the dead.’
‘Fed up of being fussed over?’ he teased.
The wry smile broadened and she sniggered. ‘Fed up and bored rigid. There’s not even any housework for me to do. Everywhere is spotless.’
‘I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to get bored,’ he said smugly. ‘But I have a cure for your boredom. Let’s fly to California tonight. The sun and change of scenery will do you good and being there might act as one of those joggers the specialist spoke about.’
California was where she’d reeled him in like a fish on a hook. It was only fitting he did the same in return.
Her face suddenly brightened. ‘I did have a memory come to me when I was in my dressing room. Nothing significant, just a memory of wearing this shirt.’
A sharp stabbing struck at his brain. ‘It’s your favourite,’ he confirmed, forcing his features to relax. ‘And that memory must be a good sign.’
‘I hope so,’ she said reverently. ‘It’s a start in any case.’
‘It is. So do I tell my crew they’re taking us to California today?’
She thought for a moment then nodded. ‘Do it. It can only help me.’
‘I shall make the call now.’
* * *
‘Aren’t we going to San Francisco?’ Anna asked when Stefano’s driver took them down a different highway from the route she remembered. She’d travelled with him on business to San Francisco a number of times, stopping at a hotel while he would stay in his penthouse apartment.
He grinned. ‘Your amnesia means I get to surprise you twice.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ll see.’
They’d landed on a sunny late afternoon. The Californian warmth felt wonderful on her skin, the majestic redwood trees lining the route as they wound through the mountains...
‘Are we going to Santa Cruz?’ she asked as they drove past a sign with the name of an approaching town she recognised. She’d g
one for a hike in the summer through the Forest of Nisene Marks State Park on her day off during a week spent in the Moretti’s San Francisco building.
‘You’ll see,’ he repeated. He took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips to breathe a kiss across the knuckles.
She snatched it away. ‘Can you stop playing games for two minutes and give me a straight answer?’
Although she’d slept for most of the flight, her body thought it was the early hours of the morning, not the early Californian evening they’d landed in. It was driving her crazy that he wouldn’t give her a straight answer to anything, not even their destination.
He cast her with hurt eyes that didn’t fool her for a second. ‘I like to give you surprises.’
‘Don’t give me that. You’re on one of your power trips. You’re loving having me at your mercy.’
‘I don’t have the power trips.’
‘But you don’t deny that you love me being at your mercy.’
His voice dropped to a murmur as he leaned close to speak in her ear. ‘I love nothing more than having you at my mercy, bellissima. And you love it too.’
‘And you can stop with the innuendoes,’ she snapped. ‘You’re supposed to be helping me get my memories back. All you’re doing is alluding to sex. Is that all our marriage amounts to?’
‘It’s the best part of it.’
‘Well, from now on you can take it as read that I know we have a fantastic sex life.’ She could feel her cheeks burn as she spoke but refused to allow herself to be distracted. ‘So I would appreciate it if you would remember that I know nothing of our life together and am relying on you to fill the holes—and if you make an innuendo out of that I shall get a flight straight back to London.’
Once a Moretti Wife Page 5