The Italian's Wife

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The Italian's Wife Page 12

by Lynne Graham


  with which he did that annoyed her, for she had hit every tiny button on

  that even tinier panel in her frustration and got nowhere. She stared UP

  at him, saw the faint rise of dark blood scoring his cheekbones.

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  'You shouldn't have accessed my messages,' Rio drawled with freezing cool.

  Holly could not credit the level of sheer rage that blasted through her

  at that facetious response, that unjust attempt to turn the blame back

  on her. 'Well, your simple phone wasn't simple enough and I couldn't get

  rid of the blasted thing. And what's more,' Holly snapped, truly

  lathered up into a steaming temper, 'you're just trying to sidestep the

  whole subject and I'm not so stupid that I can't see that!'

  'If you raise your voice once more, I'm going to cart you out to the

  limo like a sack of coal,' Rio murmured with a smouldering smile full of

  threat.

  Holly sucked in a deep, charged breath. She felt as though the top of

  her head might fly off with the force of unvented anger still blazing up

  inside her.

  'So go upstairs now and get changed and we will say our goodbyes,' Rio

  completed in full command mode.

  'Get changed into...what?' Holly queried helplessly.

  'Into your going-away outfit-'

  'I haven't got one,' Holly told him. 'You told me we weren't going

  abroad until tomorrow. It's about the only thing you did tell me. I

  mean, you didn't mention the two hundred guests, the press or the hotel

  reception either.'

  'I can't believe you didn't pack anything.' Rio was impervious to that

  blatant invitation to take their argument into a new and fresh

  dimension. 'But I presume you want to throw your bouquet.'

  'You must be joking. Waste my lovely flowers on this crowd?' Holly

  shrugged a rigid shoulder not very successfully and stuck her nose in

  the air.

  Fifteen minutes later they were in the limousine and seated in silence.

  Indeed, the silence went on and on and on until it seemed to howl in her

  ears like a gathering storm, clawing at her nerves.

  'You have gorgeous hair,' Rio murmured in a gritty tone. 'If you heard

  anyone comparing that glorious mane of yours to a ragdoll's, it was pure

  bitchiness. As for your gown, it looks wonderful, and if it was cheap it

  was the find of the century. Your accent's cute, it's you. I can't

  imagine you without it.'

  Holly snatched in a shuddering breath but said nothing.

  'Jeremy was drunk and he is very sorry but, let's face it, he wasn't to

  know the bride would be in the public bar. I don't like what he said and

  I'm angry that you should've been hurt but I really don't give a damn

  what people say!'

  'Like Rhett Butler...?' she squeezed out shakily.

  'He walked away. I'm not about to...nor on my wedding night,' Rio purred

  like a predatory tiger on the prowl, his earthy intonation sending a

  quiver of helpless awareness down her sensitive spine. 'As for the text

  message you saw. It was an old message. I wasn't aware it was still

  stored and it's now been deleted.'

  'People think you got me pregnant and that that's why you broke up with

  your fiancée. I don't like being stuck with the blame.'

  'It's a five-day wonder, not worth worrying about.'

  'Was...she?'

  The silence hummed as if she had turned on a turbo switch. She could

  literally feel his rising tension. 'At one time I thought so, and then I

  realised that she wasn't'

  'I'd kind of like to know what went wrong,' Holly admitted, but only

  after a long pause to see if he added anything more.

  'I don't want to discuss that. It happened before I met you and has

  nothing to do with you,' Rio countered with cool emphasis.

  In receipt of that snub, Holly felt flags of pink mortification

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  unfurl in her cheeks. Well, he hadn't missed and hit the wall there, had

  he? Christabel was not to be talked about. Only at that point did Holly

  notice that they appeared to be leaving the city behind them. 'Where are

  we going?'

  'We're spending the night at my country house and flying out to the

  Maldives tomorrow.'

  She had never even heard of the Maldives and once again felt crucified

  by her own ignorance. All those hazy schooldays she had sat daydreaming

  and looking out of windows, giggling at notes passed between her

  friends, never, ever appreciating that some day she might regret not

  taking school seriously. He probably had a university degree, she

  thought with a sinking heart. Every time she opened her mouth she was at

  risk of dropping herself into a big black hole of embarrassment.

  'I've asked for your cases to be sent down to the Priory. I assume you

  can get by without Timothy until tomorrow when we all meet up at the

  airport.'

  Holly swallowed hard and nodded in reluctant silence. It had not been a

  great wedding. She had been too nervous and her self-esteem was still

  too low for her to feel confident in such exalted company. She so much

  wanted their marriage to work but she could not feel she had made much

  of a start.

  'Are you still in love with her?' Holly hadn't even known that she was

  about to ask that question, but even as the anxious words escaped her

  lips she saw that that was what she most feared: that every moment he

  spent with her he might be fighting the desire to be with the unknown

  Christabel.

  Rio did not pretend to misunderstand. 'No.'

  Slowly she breathed again and her tension eased. Obviously something

  pretty serious must have happened for

  him to break off his engagement to Christabel. She did not feel he was a

  here today, gone tomorrow sort of bloke. So she had nothing to worry

  about and it would be very foolish of her to risk spoiling the early

  days of their marriage with pointless regret and envy that she did not

  have his love. She would just have to make herself lovable, which meant

  finding out where the Maldives were and learning Italian and trying to

  put him first rather than Timothy.

  Some time later, at the end of the long, winding, wooded drive that the

  limo had traversed, an enormous Gothic pile in mellow stone met Holly's

  stunned gaze. Against a backdrop of mature trees and smooth green lawns,

  the house looked magnificent.

  'How old is it?' Holly's attention lingered on the innumerable

  diamond-paned windows and turrets and the hot-potch of different roof

  levels.

  'The earliest part of the building has been dated to the twelfth century

  but the main building works took place four hundred years later,

  although, of course, it has been altered in many ways since then.

  Marchmont Priory was my mother's family home.' Rio assisted her out of

  the limo. 'She stays here in the warmer months of the year.'

  Old words were carved into the weathered stone lintel above the heavy

  oak door. Elizabethan English, welcoming all to the Priory, Rio

  explained before sweeping his curious bride up into his arms and

  carrying her in traditional style over the threshold. There was no sign

  even of who had opened the door and she commented o
n that.

  'The staff are engaged in tactful invisibility,' Rio informed her.

  Laughing at that explanation, Holly let her admiring gaze journey over

  the worn flagstone floor and the inviting fire burning in the giant

  stone fireplace. There was a wonderful atmosphere of peace and comfort.

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  'It's just beautiful,' she told him. Rio set her down and tugged her

  face up so that he could gaze down into her eyes. 'So you don't think

  it's a little shabby and outdated?'

  'No, it's glorious...it feels like a proper home, you know, not all

  perfect and fancy like the town house.'

  Rio sent her an appreciative smile that made her heart lurch inside her.

  'I confess that I've always loved it just as it is. As a kid, I used to

  run wild here with my English cousins.'

  'What were you like as a kid?' Holly was smiling, happiness enclosing

  her in a protective cocoon, all her earlier uncertainties set behind her

  and forgotten. She loved him. It might kind of embarrass her that she

  felt that strongly after so short a time but just then she felt that

  there was absolutely nothing that she would not do to make him happy.

  'Spoilt rotten. Only-child syndrome. Got everything I ever wanted and

  more, cara mia...ah, forgot, terms of endearment are on the forbidden

  list,' Rio mocked.

  'Not now we're married,' Holly hastened to assure him as his hand

  settled on her spine to draw her closer and her pulses began racing.

  'Makes a difference, does it?'

  Holly nodded.

  He let caressing fingers toy with her ringlets, watched her arch towards

  him in instinctive response, seeking out the hard heat of his lean,

  strong body. His stunning dark golden eyes flamed and he bent his head

  and brought his mouth swooping down on hers with an irresistible passion

  that she felt right down to her curling toes.

  When Holly emerged from that scorching first move she was being carried

  up the big carved staircase and she was weak with the strength of her

  own longing.

  Shouldering open a door, Rio glanced down at her with a look of

  amusement. 'I'll close the curtains for you if you like...'

  It was only early evening and she blushed and shook her bright head,

  taking the opportunity to scan the big wood-panelled room and the oak

  four-poster bed, resplendent in dark red brocade drapes that glowed in

  the fading light. A beautiful arrangement of white lilies adorned a

  table near the burning fire. A fire in a bedroom. She could hardly

  believe the luxury of it.

  Rio lowered her to the floor and began removing her jewellery piece by

  piece. When he realised that her earrings were tied on, he surveyed her

  in wonderment.

  'I need to get my ears pierced.. it's just I'm a bit squeamish about

  that sort of thing,' Holly admitted ruefully.

  She followed him to the doorway of the most incredible Victorian

  bathroom that also rejoiced in its own fire and watched him locate a

  pair of scissors. He was so beautiful, she thought with an inner ache of

  possessiveness that seemed to squeeze at her very heart. Daylight picked

  up the blue-black tint of his luxuriant hair, already ruffled by her

  disrespectful fingertips. She studied that bold, vibrant profile with

  consuming fascination that he was her husband. That against all the odds

  someone like her should have ended up with someone like him. He cut the

  thread with which she had attached the earrings and smoothed a finger

  over the tiny red score marks left behind.

  'Why did you hurt yourself like that?'

  'I didn't want to lose them.' That he had asked her to Wear them went

  unspoken.

  He removed his tie, undid his collar and tossed his jacket down onto a

  chair. Suddenly she felt shy, shy as she had been before the revelation

  of that first experience with him, now there was a wicked burn beneath

  the shyness, a

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  tingling expectation she could not repress. She just looked at him and

  she wanted him. It was that simple and it had been that way from the

  first moment for her.

  'I'm glad you couldn't get changed, bella mia,' Rio confided lazily,

  scorching golden eyes flaring over her slender figure. 'I spent half the

  day fantasising about undoing those very provocative laces.'

  'Did you?' Beneath the tight bodice, her breasts were stirring and

  lifting, the tender peaks straining to taut points. Momentarily she was

  embarrassed by her own susceptibility to a certain look, a certain tone

  in that dark, deep drawl. He just generated the most impossible level of

  excitement inside her and he did it without even trying.

  'I love the way you watch me. Like there is no other guy in the world

  for you.'

  Well, there wasn't for her, but it was no longer a sentiment she wanted

  to brandish, not for the benefit of a male who had informed her that he

  thought he could get fond of her. If he had to think about it too much,

  the likelihood was that he would never get beyond lust and liking. And

  she wanted a lot more, knew it in that instant, saw it as clear as day.

  She wanted him to love her, really love her, the way he must have loved

  his ex-girlfriend.

  'You're all warmth and promise and desire...' Rio drew her back against

  him, brushed her bronze-coloured hair out of his path and let his mouth

  press against a taut, slim shoulder. 'And it fires me up every time I

  look at you.'

  'Oh...' A slight sound was wrenched from Holly as she trembled in

  reaction to the heat of his knowing mouth against her cooler skin. He

  knew exactly where to touch her. Her head tipped back against his

  muscular chest, throat extending as she struggled to breathe again, eyes

  sliding languorously shut. She felt as if the very blood in her veins

  was turning liquid with longing. 'You match this room. I ought to be

  wearing a Tudor doublet and a plumed hat,' Rio teased thickly, his proud

  dark head bent over hers as she opened her eyes and saw them etched

  together in the carved mirror adorning the table set in front of the

  tall windows. She watched long brown fingers pluck loose the laces with

  studied slowness and her heart raced. She pushed helplessly back against

  him, already aroused beyond belief just by the contact of his big,

  powerful body against hers.

  'The Tudor bridegroom was probably a pig,' Holly mumbled, recalling that

  much from her history lessons on the subservient role of women through

  the ages.

  'Not necessarily. There are love letters and diaries stored in the

  library downstairs that tell a very different story.' Rio loosened the

  laces level by level until her anticipation was at such screaming pitch

  that she was ashamed of herself.

  He released his breath in a soft, sexy hiss as he discovered that she

  was not wearing a bra. Embarrassed, she mumbled, 'My bra showed through

  the silk at the back and I took it off again-'

  'Don't apologise for what I like, cara.' He eased down the dress from

  her shoulders and shimmied the soft fabric down her arms so that it fell

  to her hips, baring her full breasts to his v
iew and attention. Her

  breath caught audibly in her throat as he let his expert fingers roam

  over her achingly sensitive nipples, catching the swollen buds between

  thumb and forefinger.

  He might as well have set a torch to kindling inside her, for the

  strength in her lower limbs just dissolved, legs shaking under her as

  she fell back against him, the whole of her consumed by the power of her

  own almost agonised response. With a husky laugh he gathered her up with

  easy strength and laid her down on the big bed.

  110

  Rio gazed down at her, lean, strong face intent. 'Your response to me is

  the biggest erotic buzz I have ever had.'

  Odd how that assurance seemed to both reassure and undermine, she

  reflected as the wave of weakness lessened while he plucked off her

  shoes and began to tug her gown from beneath her hips. On the one hand,

  it did not say much for his intimate experiences with other women, which

  delighted her, but on the other hand, it suggested all over again that

  it was her longing for him which was her strongest attraction, and that

  was humiliating.

  'Dio mio...' Rio backed off a step, the better to appreciate the sheer

  stockings, diminutive briefs and the blue garter his bride wore. His

  shimmering scrutiny lit on her hot self-conscious face and he flashed

  her a wolfish smile. 'Full marks for surprising me.'

 

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