by Rachel Lyndhurst; Carmen Falcone; Ros Clarke; Annie Seaton; Christine Bell
Lora was taken aback by such a drastic measure but warmed with admiration that he’d leave such a beautiful place for his daughters’ sakes. “Couldn’t you make it safer? Raise the level of the wall, maybe?”
He stared out to sea, the breeze whipping his hair into unruly black spikes. “It’s time to leave this place for many reasons, Lora, because of the children and because of things you really don’t want to know about. However, it’s a strict rule of mine that the children are never left alone. A security-cleared adult must be with them at all times. For their safety.”
“Of course, very wise. I’ll make sure they’re never unsupervised.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Such as?”
“That’s the nanny’s job, and my security team’s. You’re just my fiancée.”
Just his fiancée…
“I keep forgetting,” she said in a quiet voice and winced. “It’s strange not having a proper role, one with rules and regulations and an hourly rate.”
“I can make up some control freak rules if you like, but right now we had better get inside.” He nodded toward a Jeep parked up the side of the house. “We have a visitor.”
Lorenzo held open the front door for Lora to go through into a large airy hallway. It was decorated in a rustic style with flashes of blue and yellow, spotlessly clean tiles, polished wooden furniture, and fresh flowers on a hall table, which were reflected back in a large, heavy-framed mirror.
“Buono sera!” A small blond woman appeared from a doorway to the right. “Come sta?”
“Ci sentiamo bene, Vanessa,” Lorenzo replied. “But English will be fine. This is Lora, from West Sussex.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened, then she smiled and held out her hand in greeting. Any surprise at the arrival of the new woman in his life was well hidden; perhaps Lorenzo did this sort of thing often.
“Lovely to meet you, Lora.”
And as he had predicted, no further questions.
Lorenzo craned his neck down the hall toward the back of the house. “Vanessa is the girls’ nanny, Lora. She does a great job.”
“I’m sure she does,” Lora said and shook her hand, trying not to let her surprise show that the woman was wearing scruffy jeans and a T-shirt. Didn’t Norland nannies have to wear a hideous brown uniform?
“You have a visitor waiting on the terrace, Signor Ferrante,” Vanessa whispered.
“So I see from the car outside.” Lorenzo put his cell phone down on the hall table and rubbed his chin. “Been here long?”
“About half an hour. I did offer an aperitif, but—”
“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with it. Off you go and enjoy the rest of your evening. The girls are asleep?”
“They are,” Vanessa said and made her way back to the door from where she’d emerged.
Lorenzo waited until she had gone and then gave Lora a stern look. “I was hoping to put this off a while longer, but I’m afraid it’s time for both of us to step right into the dragon’s den.” He gestured for her to follow him down the corridor. “Let me do the talking.”
“Who’s in there?” Lora whispered harshly.
He let out a long breath. “Mamma.”
The woman sitting with her back to the sea on the terrace was nothing like Lora had imagined. Not the apple-cheeked, smiley matriarch wearing a modest black dress with graying hair tied back in a cottage loaf-style bun. Not one bit. Mamma Ferrante sat glaring at them through oversized, tortoiseshell and gold eyeglasses. She looked as merciless as a cat who’d been lying in wait for far too long. Her hazel eyes were immaculately made up with black kohl and false eyelashes, and her lips, unnaturally full for a woman of her years, were glossed a deep red to match the scarlet sequined top she wore over sleek black cigarette pants.
“I see you already have my ring,” she said with a strong Italian accent. Her mouth quirked up slightly, but not into an expression that could have been described as welcoming. “It would have been nice to have been asked first.”
“It’s tradition, Mamma. You would have insisted my fiancée had it in the end anyway, so don’t make life difficult.”
“It’s still warm from that barracuda, Ivanka! How quickly you move on, Lorenzo. How you disappoint your poor mother sometimes.”
Lora did her best not to let her jaw drop at how good an actress this woman was. “It’s a very beautiful ring,” Lora blurted. She could feel Lorenzo’s body tense.
“This is Lora, Mamma, Lora Pryce-Howard, and you will be polite to her.”
The older woman’s chest rose and fell with a bitter little laugh. “And English, yes? How very sweet.” Her gaze whipped to Lora. “You will call me Rosa and be under no illusion about this marriage. Leave all thoughts of equality, personal ambition, and ideas about right and wrong behind you. A Ferrante wife has two roles: the first is to support her husband in everything he does, and that means everything. You have no life from the moment you make those vows, because Lorenzo will hold your life in his hands. Never question him. Break the rules, and he will be honor bound to crush it out of you. And he will.”
“Per l’amor di Dio! For God’s sake!” Lorenzo shook his head with disbelief as his mother rose from her seat onto sky-high black stiletto heels and held up her hand to silence him before returning her blistering gaze to Lora.
“Your second role is to provide him with lots of children, as many as you can manage without killing yourself. Your husband’s pleasure in the bedroom is what keeps a good Sicilian marriage alive. And you will be Sicilian once you take his name.”
Lora gaped as she watched Rosa light a long, thin cigarette and saunter across the terrace in the direction of the driveway without a backward glance. Perhaps his mother’s plan was to scare her so much she’d call the engagement off before he could.
“Your mum is scary.”
He stared blankly in the direction his mother had gone. “You think?”
Was there any doubt in his mind? “She makes one hell of a first impression.”
“You’ve seen nothing.”
Lora folded her arms and exhaled. “Has she gone now? Or shall I find the key to the cellar and lock myself in there before she does? I think we can be fairly certain she’s taken an instant dislike to your office affair turned fiancée.”
The hint of a smile danced around Lorenzo’s lips. “You’d understand why she’s so ferocious if you’d ever met my father. Come on, let’s go back inside.”
“Honestly?” She raised her eyebrows and followed him back through the open glass doors into the room that led out onto the terrace. “Does he know what’s going on, too? Is he going to grill me about my virtue or something equally cringe-worthy?”
“No. We’ve not spoken in some time.”
“And you don’t want to go into details because I probably wouldn’t want to know?”
“If I went into fine detail, you’d probably never sleep again.” He shrugged and shut the doors behind them. “He wouldn’t give Mamma a divorce. I did some things to make sure he had to. We don’t speak any more. The end.”
Lora leaned against the arm of a comfy looking armchair. “I guess he still loved her even though she didn’t want to be his wife anymore. That’s not so bad.”
Lorenzo let out a hollow laugh. “He didn’t love her, Lora, whatever that word means. He enjoyed beating her, the control and the violence. He got a kick out of being the hard man, showing off to his cronies. She couldn’t take much more.”
“She seems a strong woman in spite of it.”
“Because of it. She’s a survivor, a strong Sicilian, and if you knew her you wouldn’t be afraid. Unless you piss her off, of course.”
Lora laughed as the tension on his face eased. “Did she mean all that crazy stuff about keeping husbands happy?”
“If this was all for real, she’d make damn sure you kept me happy.”
“Even in the bedroom?” She could feel a shimmer of heat on her cheeks. “How would she know?”
“She’d ask you. Or me.” He took a step closer and put his palms on her shoulders. “And if she didn’t get a straight answer, she’d probably pay the maid to spy on us, report in on the state of the marital bed sheets.”
Lora almost choked. “She wouldn’t! And do you agree with all this? The good little Sicilian wife lays down her life for her husband’s pleasure and is subservient to him in everything?”
“Sometimes it works,” he said with a wry smile.
“Thank God this engagement is fake, then, because I could never enter a marriage like that. It’s barbaric.”
He shrugged. “I will never marry again in any case, so it’s not something I think about. No more wives and no more children for me. But it would be a mistake for anyone to underestimate the power of a Sicilian mother-in-law.”
Mummy shark. “Did she do that with Ivanka?”
“Ah, Ivanka. Poor little deprived Ivanka.” He raised his gaze to the ceiling. “No, she didn’t, because she was desperate for our marriage to fail. If there was a divorce in the family, it would make things a lot easier for her to get out of hers. But they never clicked anyway.”
Lora ran her fingertips along the fabric of the armchair. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be. Ours was an arranged marriage. My father needed to get onside with the Russians and persuade a bunch of them to buy into his car business. That way he could get subsidies, cheap metals, and stock. So I had to marry a diplomat’s daughter. We didn’t like each other too much, but that’s life.”
Lora’s back straightened, and she moved sideways so that his hands fell away from her shoulders. “You liked her enough to make babies.” She disliked the sulky tone of her voice and instantly wished she’d kept her opinion to herself.
He shrugged. “It was expected. Ivanka was aesthetically pleasing enough to have sex with, dirty when she wanted to be. It was okay.”
Lora looked down at the diamond on her finger. “Do I have to wear this all the time?”
“Don’t you like it? It’s worth more than a small Greek Island.”
She looked awkwardly around the room. “If it could talk…”
“I understand.” He took her hand and slid the ring off. “Just in public for appearances’ sake.”
“Thank you.”
“You still have to keep me happy like Mamma said, though.” His eyes glittered with barely concealed meaning.
She turned and walked toward a heavy wooden sideboard set against the wall so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. “I didn’t think you were interested in me like that anymore.”
“What gave you that idea?”
The sound of his footsteps followed her until she could feel the warmth of him on her back. “You didn’t say anything this morning about what happened. You were very…business-like.”
“And what should I have said? ‘We reschedule sexual activity at nine p.m. precisely?’”
Lora cringed. “Well, no—”
His hands rested on either side of her neck, and his thumbs began to stroke the sensitive skin on the top of her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t at my best this morning. I should have at least kissed you before I left.”
She didn’t back off this time. “There was no need.”
“Your presumption that I’d lost interest in you suggests that there was a need. Would you have pushed me away if I had tried to kiss you?”
“No, not then.”
“And now?”
“I’m not sure what I want, to be honest. This living a double life, part real, part made up, is so confusing. I feel that I’m going to make a big mistake any minute and screw everything up.”
His hands slid over the smooth curve of her shoulders and turned her gently to face him. “Listen, a fling you said last night. Four no-strings weeks. Let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?”
A voice in her head warned her not to appear too keen. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not going to say you’re not attracted to me, I hope, because you promised no more lies.”
His words and touch were reigniting dangerously sexy feelings in her. “No, that would be untrue.”
“I want you, Lora. Is that blatant enough? I want you in my bed for the next month.”
She laughed, unable to disguise her delight. “I guess that doesn’t leave you much of a get out.”
“Why not pretend it’s all for real?”
Pretend it’s all for real.
Lora knew that was a dangerous state of mind to be in, but… “It sounds tempting.”
“As long as we remember the rules.”
She took a deep breath; rules in this instance were good, and she needed to adhere to them strictly if she wasn’t to get too involved with this beautiful man. “No strings and no expectations. No telling the kids we’re an item, and good-bye when your big deal is signed in four to six weeks. You don’t do relationships, and I’d never want to marry a man who didn’t love me anyway, so I’m cool with all that. And I get paid overtime.”
He laughed. “Are you sure there’s no Sicilian blood in your veins? Name your price.”
“I’ll sleep on that and let you know.”
A hand slid to her bottom. “You may not get any sleep tonight.”
“I’d better. And so had you if you don’t want to look a complete wreck in the morning again. You’ll scare the kids.”
He ran long fingers through her hair. “Give in. Say you’ll sleep with me tonight?”
The answer was always going to be yes, and she shivered when his mouth found her earlobe and nibbled it. “This must be the point where I ask your room or mine?”
“Afraid not. Remember I said the house was too small? Well, there are no spare rooms left. I don’t have houseguests. Ever. You’re in my room whether you like it or not. Unless you want to bunk in with Vanessa.”
“That might appear strange.”
He slid his hand underneath her top and stroked the groove of her spine. “You could state religious reasons, preserving your innocence until your wedding night, for example.”
“Yeah, right, and that would let the cat out of the bag if Vanessa hasn’t found out about our ‘engagement’ already.”
“Oh, yes, I forgot.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “You’re distracting me.”
She giggled and nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. “It’ll have to be your room, then. We did the living room floor last night.”
“Good.” Lorenzo took her hand, and her legs felt wobbly as he led her down a corridor toward his bedroom. He pushed aside the heavy wooden door, and all she could focus on was the enormous bed that dominated the room. The room smelled of rocks and sun, warm wood and the sea. He leaned backward with his shoulders against the door to close it quietly. Without hesitation he took the hem of her top between his fingers. “Let’s lose this.”
Her skin tingled with excitement when he pulled the garment over her head and let it drop to the floor. “That feels so much better,” she said, a tremor catching her last syllable. She took a step closer, until she could feel his breath on her collarbone and then pulled his hands over the cups of her bra. “Lose this for me, too.”
“Are you sure about that, Ms. Pryce-Howard?” He ran his fingertips lightly over the silk and lace.
“Don’t you dare tease me,” Lora muttered and slid down the zip of his trousers. They both fell still for a second as her fingers slid inside. “Dear God, you’re—”
“So not going to tease you.” His hands dropped to return the favor with her bottom half and his mouth drifted to her shoulder, teeth dragging her bra straps off her shoulders.
“Stupid clothes.” She wriggled out of her trousers as his slithered to the floor and then moaned with pleasure when his mouth took hers. Within seconds they were both naked, their kisses urgent and firebrand hands everywhere. She reveled in the way her breasts crushed against the light dusting of hair on his chest and eased them both to the edge of the bed.
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“No rush.” He ran his lips lightly across the surface of her breast until he settled on a tight nipple, took it deep into his mouth, and sucked hard.
“Yes, rush.” She wrapped one thigh around his waist, felt him hot and hard against her stomach, and wanted him too badly to wait. “Slow and easy next time.” She dragged his mouth away from her breast and pulled him against her own, easing her tongue inside and reaching down to grasp his hard-muscled behind.
“Okay.” He leaned across to the bedside cabinet. “It’s been long enough.”
Lora stroked the dark hair at the base of his stomach while he took the condom from its wrapper and then let her fingers drift down to her own body. Their eyes locked as the tip of her tongue licked her top lip and her hand began to move in tiny circles. “Quickly.”
“Quickly?” His eyes raked over her, coming to rest at the juncture of her thighs where her fingertips teased back and forth.
“Yes, fast.” She gasped as he snatched up both her hands in one of his and pinned them above her head, nudging her thighs wide with his knee. “And hard.”
Needing no further encouragement, his mouth crashed down on hers, and he slid into her with one powerful movement. A moment of stillness as her eyes opened wide, bright with arousal, and she began to undulate beneath him. Curving her spine, pushing herself against him and urging him onward. “Yes,” she tested his shoulder with her teeth. “Even harder.”
His buttock muscles clenched, forcing himself deeper. His voice was a low whisper. “You like it rough?”
“Yes.” She lifted her knees to drive herself harder against him. “So big. Hard. I want you.” Her vision blurred as he roughly thrust into her. “Oh…” She moaned and arched her back when he gripped her wrists even more tightly. Her knuckles rubbed against the wooden headboard, and she cried out as the tension at her core became unbearable. “Come. Do it.”
He braced himself with his free hand against the pillow and thrashed harder into her.