Phantom Marriage

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Phantom Marriage Page 22

by Penny Jordan


  ‘I am a quick judge of people. And a good judge, I believe.’

  ‘You weren’t with that girl in Rome,’ she shot back, startling him into laughter.

  ‘True. There are times when my hormones lead me astray.’

  ‘I think your hormones lead you astray a lot,’ she said drily, making him wonder if perhaps she would say no to him tonight. He hoped not, because he wanted this girl more and more with each passing moment.

  ‘Come,’ he said, and closed his fingers more tightly around her elbow. ‘Mamma is champing at the bit to feed you.’

  * * *

  ‘I don’t think I could eat another bite,’ Veronica whispered to Leonardo a couple of hours later.

  ‘Try,’ he whispered back.

  ‘I hope you don’t think it rude of me, Veronica,’ Sophia said rather loudly from where she was sitting at the end of the table furthest from them. ‘But I must ask you—your mother…why she not just get married if she wanted a bambino?’

  ‘Mamma,’ Leonardo chided with a wry shake of his handsome head. ‘That is a rather rude question.’

  ‘No, no,’ Veronica said straight away, not wanting to offend Sophia, who was really a lovely person. Veronica already liked her enormously. She liked all of Leonardo’s family. And there were twelve of them sitting at the table under the pergola that evening. Alberto and Sophia had three children, Veronica had learned when introduced properly. Elena was the oldest, followed by Carmelina and then Leonardo. Elena was married to Franco, the taxi driver, and they had three children. Marco was eleven, Bianca was nine with the youngest, Bruno, a precocious seven. Carmelina was the only shy one of the family. She was married to Alfonso, who worked at the Hotel Fabrizzi as a handyman-cum-gardener. They had a son, Luca, who was ten and a daughter, Daniele, who was eight.

  ‘It is a fair question,’ Veronica went on. She presumed Leonardo had explained how Laurence had come to be a sperm donor, but even he didn’t know the reasons behind her mother’s decision to have a baby that way. ‘My mother actually was married when she was younger. But her husband was not a good man. He gambled away all their money, treated her badly then left her to run away with another woman. A rich widow. She had a nervous breakdown and lost her job. In the end she had nothing and could only get work as a housekeeper. She was very bitter about men and vowed never to trust one ever again. But as she got older she desperately wanted a baby.

  ‘Around this time she was employed by Laurence. He was in Australia doing research at the Sydney University. His job came with a large house in nearby Glebe, along with a live-in housekeeper. That was Mum. She liked Laurence, said he was a decent man. They became friendly and one day she confided in him her plan to have a baby by artificial insemination.’

  ‘And that was when Laurence offered his sperm instead of some stranger’s,’ Leonardo intervened. ‘He didn’t want to risk the baby having a bad gene, like Ruth apparently had. That was the reason Ruth didn’t have children, by the way. She was worried they would inherit her bad gene. But Laurence knew his genes were fine.’

  ‘Better than fine,’ Leonardo’s father said with a big smile on his face, his accent much stronger than Leonardo’s. He waved his arms around a lot. ‘Just look at the beautiful girl he produced. He would have been so proud of you, Veronica. You are molto bella. Your mamma must be very happy that she listened to Laurence.’

  Other members of the family chimed in with their compliments as well.

  Veronica tried not to blush. But, really, the whole family had been gushing and fussing over her all evening. She loved the attention but it was a bit overwhelming. She hoped and prayed that both Elena and Carmelina would get up and go soon. Unfortunately, the children didn’t seem at all tired, and tomorrow was Saturday, after all. Not a school day. She couldn’t claim she was wilting, either, having had a long nap this afternoon.

  The beginning of a yawn took her by surprise.

  ‘Tired?’ Leonardo murmured in her ear.

  ‘No,’ she confessed with a soft sigh. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Good,’ he said quietly so that only she could hear. ‘I will tell everyone you have jet lag and need to go home to bed.’

  Veronica was tempted, but when she turned her head and saw the devilish glint in his eye she found herself not wanting to do as he obviously wanted her to do. Not yet. As madly attractive as she found him, as fast as her heart was beating, her days of being a pushover with the opposite sex were well and truly over.

  ‘No,’ she said with a coolness which surprised even her. ‘No, I don’t want to do that. I’m not fond of lying.’

  ‘A little white lie won’t hurt anyone,’ he grumbled. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being thwarted.

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ Veronica retorted. ‘Your mother would be offended. She’s gone to a lot of trouble with this meal.’

  ‘Very well, but be warned—I can’t protect you from Mamma’s never-ending questions if you stay.’

  ‘What was that?’ Sophia immediately jumped in. ‘Are you talking about me, Leonardo?’

  ‘Veronica was just complimenting you on the food, Mamma,’ he said, showing Veronica how smoothly he could lie. ‘She said you have gone to a lot of trouble.’

  Sophia looked very pleased. ‘She is welcome.’

  Veronica smiled at her, glad now that she had stayed. But she almost wished she’d said yes to Leonardo’s suggestion when Sophia went on to ask her a multitude of questions about her life back in Sydney, finally asking if there was a boyfriend waiting for her at home. It was a reasonable question, she supposed, but she was always reluctant to discuss her personal life. Or lack of one. It was a relief when Leonardo answered for her.

  ‘Not at the moment, Mamma,’ he said. ‘I asked Veronica just that earlier today and she claimed not to be lucky when it came to men. Perhaps she will be luckier now that she is an heiress,’ he added with a slight edge in his voice.

  Sophia rattled off something exasperated in Italian before apologising, then returning to English. ‘I said you would not need the money to be attractive to men,’ she told Veronica.

  Veronica had a feeling she’d just been lied to, as everyone else at the table exchanged knowing looks. She’d heard Leonardo’s name in there somewhere, not her own name.

  ‘She might be divorced,’ the precocious Bruno suddenly piped up.

  An embarrassed silence settled on the table for a long moment.

  ‘There’s a thought,’ Leonardo muttered. ‘Are you divorced, Veronica?’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SHE BLINKED UP at him, startled, he thought, by his question.

  ‘Absolutely not,’ came her firm reply. ‘I’ve never been married.’

  Leonardo wasn’t sure why he was relieved at this news.

  Why was he so pleased to hear Veronica wasn’t in that category?

  He had no idea. Neither did he wish to worry about it.

  ‘But you do wish to get married?’ Elena asked her.

  Leonardo noticed Veronica’s hesitation to answer. But then she smiled and said, ‘Yes, of course. If I ever meet a man I can both love and trust.’

  Ah, Leonardo thought. She had been burnt in the past. And burnt quite badly, by the sound of things.

  ‘You should marry an Italian,’ Elena continued. ‘They make very good husbands.’ And she gave Franco a loving glance.

  My sister is as bad as my mother, Leonardo decided. Always matchmaking.

  ‘I think it is time I took Veronica home,’ he said, and stood up abruptly. ‘She has had a long day, and I’m taking her sightseeing by helicopter tomorrow morning.’ He knew that mentioning this would stop any objections to his escorting Veronica home. His mother and sisters would be satisfied with this news and could plan further matchmaking in their absence.

  Not that any of it would work. Firstly, he didn’t really want to ge
t married just yet. And, even if he did, he wasn’t about to marry an Australian girl who would be going home soon, never to return. Yes, he found Veronica extremely attractive. And, yes, he aimed to get her into bed before the weekend was out. Before this night was out, actually. But once she sold him the villa that would be the end of things. She would return to her life in Sydney and he would go on as before.

  Leonardo looked down at Veronica who hadn’t made a move to stand up. Surely she wasn’t going to object?

  She glanced up at him with those big violet eyes of hers, and once again it zapped between them—the sexual chemistry that had been there from their first meeting, and which he’d been trying to ignore all evening. It was impossible to ignore it any longer. It was like an electric shock, making every muscle in Leonardo’s body contract as he battled to harness his desire into some semblance of control. But he knew, as surely as he knew he was on Capri, that the moment he took this glorious creature into his arms nothing would stop this night from reaching its inevitable conclusion.

  And his satisfaction would be sublime!

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  VERONICA SUCKED IN her breath sharply. My God, the way he was looking at her. It was downright scary. But, oh, so exciting. And like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Jerome had never looked at her like that, as though he wanted to possess every part of her, body and soul. The thought thrilled her, then turned her on to the max.

  Her lips dried as her heartbeat took off. So this was what real lust felt like—and she accepted only in that moment that this was something new to her. Yes, she’d been attracted to men before. Yes, she’d been to bed with a few. And, yes, it had been pleasant enough. But nothing to write home about. Jerome had been an improvement in the bedroom department. But then, she’d imagined herself in love with Jerome. And he’d obviously known what he was doing. He’d been in his late thirties, after all. But she’d never wanted him with this kind of passion, never felt her whole body react this way just to a look.

  My God, she was on fire! She regretted putting on her wrap earlier, although she knew, deep down, that one small short-sleeved cardigan wasn’t responsible for the heat gathering in every pore of her body.

  ‘Come,’ Leonardo commanded, and held out his hand to her.

  Yes please, she thought with a jolt of uncharacteristic boldness. Very uncharacteristic. Veronica wasn’t the type of girl whose focus in sex was constantly on having an orgasm. She’d always been more into how she felt about the man making love to her than if she came or not.

  Not so with this man. He brought out the female animal in her, not the soul mate. She just wanted him to…

  Veronica hated the F-word. But it was appropriate on this occasion. Because that was what Leonardo did to women. He didn’t care about them. Or love them. He just screwed them silly till he got bored, and then he walked away.

  His fingers closed around hers and he drew her slowly to her feet, then helped her slide out from behind the seat. Her knees held her upright, thank heavens, but it was a bit of touch and go. Thank heavens he kept a firm hold of her hand or she might have stumbled, a dizzying weakness having overtaken her. Veronica could feel everyone’s eyes upon her. Could they see what was going on in her head? she wondered dazedly. Which was what, exactly? Nothing that children should know. Her mind was filling with R-rated images of herself and Leonardo tumbling together naked in a bed.

  There were four bedrooms in the villa. She wasn’t sure which one figured in her fantasy, her mind more on what they were doing, not where they were.

  Somehow Veronica managed to say goodnight to everyone, as well as thank Sophia for the wonderful meal. She endured several hugs and kisses, and then Leonardo was leading her away—not hurrying, she noticed, for which she was both grateful and irritated. He obviously wasn’t feeling the same urgency she was.

  ‘I’ve remembered one of the things I talked to Laurence about that last weekend,’ he said as he led her along the gravel path that led to the stone steps. ‘Mamma’s infernal matchmaking brought it all back to me.’

  ‘Oh?’ was all she could manage in reply, until guilt arrived. What on earth was wrong with her? She’d come to Capri to find out about her father, not crave hot sex with the executor of his will!

  She stopped and turned to face Leonardo. ‘What was it?’ she asked, doing her best not to think how handsome he was in the moonlight. And how sexy.

  ‘I complained to him about Mamma going on and on about my getting married and having a family. Papa was just as bad that weekend. He said he wanted me to have a son to carry on our family name. The only other Fabrizzi alive is my uncle Stephano and he doesn’t have any children. Papa said it was my duty to get married and have a family.’

  ‘But you don’t want to get married,’ she pointed out. Leonardo was a playboy. Always had been. Always would be. Hadn’t his parents got that yet?

  He pulled a face. ‘I admit the idea of marriage doesn’t appeal at the moment. I like my life the way it is for now.’

  ‘Have you told them that?’

  ‘Not exactly. I want to please them, but…’ He shrugged, as though the decision was out of his hands. He turned and they headed up the ancient steps, Leonardo recapturing her hand.

  As much as his touch sent an exciting charge shooting up her arm, this time Veronica refused to be totally distracted by it.

  ‘What did Laurence say?’ she asked. ‘Did he give you any advice?’

  ‘He said that I would change my mind about marriage when the right girl came along. He said falling in love did that to even the most confirmed bachelor.’

  ‘That was naive of him, wasn’t it?’ came her slightly caustic comment. Because Veronica wasn’t fooled by this man’s charm, or his avid attentions. She doubted that Leonardo would ever meet the right girl. He was programmed to fall in lust but never in love.

  He said nothing for a few seconds, not turning to face her till they reached the top of the steep incline.

  ‘You are very cynical. Some man hurt you, didn’t he? And, no, I don’t want to hear the sordid details. I hate it when girls feel they have to tell you every moment of every bad relationship they’ve had. It is usually man-bashing. And boring. And turns me right off. Not that anything you said would turn me off tonight,’ he added with a smile so criminally sexy that her toes curled up in her shoes. ‘You could tell me you were the secret mistress to an Arab sheikh and I would still want to take you to bed.’

  How did she keep a straight face? Somehow, she managed. Because she needed to show this arrogant Italian playboy that she had his measure. And was a match for him in every way.

  ‘That’s an interesting thought,’ she said with brilliant nonchalance. ‘No. I’m not the secret mistress of a sheikh. There are actually two of them. Mine are into horse racing. Plus riding of another kind,’ she added with a saucy glance. ‘And, my, they do keep me busy.’

  It was only a momentary coup, but it was worth it to see his eyes widen in shock for a few seconds. But all too soon he realised that she was pulling his leg. His laugh was rueful.

  ‘You are a devil in disguise, aren’t you?’

  ‘Not quite as much as you, Leonardo. But, yes, I do like being footloose and fancy free at the moment.’ Lord, this lying business could get to be a habit! ‘Though I do intend to get married. Eventually.’

  ‘When you meet the right man,’ he pointed out in an echo of what she’d said earlier.

  ‘Exactly. Which I’m sorry to say is not you, Leonardo. I prefer my future husband to be a little less…travelled.’

  He grinned. ‘But not your lovers.’

  ‘No. Not my lovers. There is something to be said for experience in the bedroom. Practice does make perfect, I’ve found.’

  His eyebrows lifted. ‘So you have had a sheikh or two in your bed?’

  She gave him a coy glance. ‘I’m not a kiss-and-t
ell kind of girl.’

  ‘Thank heaven for small mercies,’ he said, surprising her constantly with how well he spoke English, knowing all the right phrases and idioms. ‘But let me remind you that I haven’t even kissed you yet. Not a proper kiss, anyway.’

  ‘No. You haven’t.’

  ‘Should I remedy that?’

  ‘Not out here,’ she said with a flash of panic, aware suddenly that she wasn’t ready yet for their verbal foreplay to become reality. Maybe she would never be ready. The way she was feeling was quite frightening. So were the images which kept popping into her head.

  Veronica’s hand trembled a little as she retrieved the key from the geranium pot and unlocked the sliding door. It was cooler inside. Pity she wasn’t. She didn’t turn to see if he’d followed her—because she knew instinctively he would have. Instead, she switched on the lights then walked quickly over to the kitchen area, finding safety behind the long breakfast bar before turning to face him.

  ‘Would you like something to drink?’ she asked him. ‘Coffee? Tea? Water?’ she finished drily.

  His smile showed he recognised her action for the delaying tactic that it was.

  ‘I would prefer a glass of cognac. Or a port. Laurence has a magnificent one which he used to buy by the case-load. Have you been down to Laurence’s wine cellar yet?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I couldn’t find it.’ In truth, she hadn’t really looked.

  ‘I’ll show you where it is,’ he offered, and held out his hand to her again.

  ‘I need to go to the bathroom first,’ she prevaricated. Although, now she thought about it, it was the truth. Her bladder had suddenly started protesting.

  Veronica dashed off to the master bedroom which had an en suite bathroom. When she returned to the living area a few minutes later, Leonardo was there, his left arm resting on the marble mantelpiece as he stared broodingly into the empty fireplace.

  ‘I still can’t believe Laurence is dead,’ he said, glancing back up at her with touchingly sad eyes.

 

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