Sexy Billionaires

by Carol Marinelli

  She looked up at him then with defiance and yet a curious look of resignation. The image that came into Dante’s head was of her asleep with her fists balled, ready to fight.

  ‘What if I don’t go back to Italy with you?’

  ‘Do you really want to risk that? Paolo is under the impression that he is the one driving this great plan. But it’s my house that they will be using, and ultimately my money that will be paying for Melanie’s treatment and recuperation—something Paolo seems to be quite happy to ignore. Needless to say, at any moment, that could all be gone.’

  ‘And you would really do that? Just to get back at me, at Melanie?’

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘It doesn’t have to descend to that, Alicia. I’m offering your sister everything on a plate, including the chance to be with Paolo and act her heart out. You just have to come with me today and be my hostess…’

  And lover too…

  Dante couldn’t stop the word reverberating in his head. He knew without a doubt that there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands off her if she came with him today and, even if she wasn’t acknowledging it yet to herself, she’d soon be made aware of it—this desire that even now pulsated through the air between them.

  Alicia’s mouth was grim, her face starkly pale. ‘And with me close by your side, you’ll be able to monitor my sister, make sure she isn’t stealing the family silver.’

  He smiled then and it wasn’t friendly as he thought, Exactly—you and your scheming sister won’t make a move I’m not aware of…

  ‘Cara, my family didn’t have any silver to steal, anything that’s there has been hard won and paid for.’

  His comment made Alicia’s churning thoughts stop. What did he mean? And then she shook her head. She didn’t care what he meant.

  He was pulling his jacket from the couch and slipping it on with lithe grace. He walked to the door in a couple of long strides. ‘I have some business to attend to in my office in London. I’ll be back this evening, early. And I plan to leave tonight for Milan, returning to Lake Como tomorrow. If you decide you are going to come with me, have your bags packed and ready.’ He looked at her clothes again. ‘Actually, you don’t need to pack, just bring yourself. We’ll have to get you a decent wardrobe.’

  Alicia opened her mouth in affront but, before she could say a word, he was continuing.

  ‘I’ll be outside here at seven p.m., I won’t bother knocking. I’ll wait for five minutes. That’s it. It’s up to you if you want to risk saying no.’

  And, without a backward glance, he opened the door, shut it behind him and he was gone.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THAT EVENING ALICIA stood with a small holdall in one hand, the other on the lock of her front door. She could hear the idling purring engine of the car outside. It had, exactly as Dante had said, pulled up at precisely seven p.m. He irritated her with his attention to detail, his punctuality, his coolness. His expectation. The clock was ticking; she could hear it on the mantel.

  Desperation clawed at her insides. She wanted to turn back the clock, drop her bag, dive under the covers of her bed and shut the world out. Shut Dante D’Aquanni out. But earlier that day she’d gone into the hospital and seeing Melanie and Paolo so happy, so delighted, so together, full of plans for moving into town…her escape route had been cut off, her fate decided. For the first time in her life, Melanie didn’t need her and that isolated, rudderless feeling had swamped her again.

  This was it. Her impulsive, over-protective actions had created this scenario. She really could not risk Melanie being subjected to Dante’s censure or cynical disbelief. So she took a deep breath, turned the catch and pulled open the door. The sleek, dark car’s engine revved for a second and Alicia panicked—was she too late? But then the revs fell again. A door was pushed open from the inside. The driver stepped out and Alicia could make out the outline of a dark shape in the back. She shivered and moved forward.

  Dante had had to restrain himself from springing from the car. Five minutes had passed. He’d been sure she wasn’t coming. Incensed beyond belief that a woman could be making him feel as if he were dangling on a string, he’d tersely instructed the driver to go. But. Then the door had opened and a feeling had flooded his entire body. A feeling he didn’t want to acknowlege. When Alicia slipped into the seat beside him, she looked like a pale wraith. A waif. Still the shapeless clothes, still the pulled back hair. Irritation prickled across his skin.

  ‘You’ve made the right decision.’

  ‘As if I had a choice.’ The door closed behind her shutting them into the confined intimate space. Darkness. Dante forced himself to relax. Taking his eyes away from her with more of an effort than he liked to admit, he looked out of the window as the car moved out of the estate and into the traffic.

  ‘So how is this going to work, exactly?’

  As his plane cruised above the English countryside, leaving it behind, Dante looked across at Alicia.

  ‘We will stay in Milan tonight. I’ve booked you an appointment at a boutique there in the morning; we don’t have much time to get you fitted and dressed. And made over. The guests arrive at the villa in three days.’

  Alicia’s spine straightened, her pride back with a vengeance. ‘As you are aware I can’t afford to buy myself an entire wardrobe. I must insist that you at least buy off-the-peg clothes. It would take me years to repay you for the designer wardrobe you seem to be insisting on.’

  She looked unbelievably proud, like a tiny regal princess. Dante felt something move in his chest. He thrust it back down—back into the seething mass of twisted feelings and desire this woman aroused.

  ‘Don’t worry about the cost.’

  ‘But I do, I will; it’s an unnecessary expense.’

  ‘It’s not.’ His eyes moved over her body with heated appraisal; she could feel her insides grow warm.

  ‘As my partner, you will be expected to maintain a certain standard.’

  Alicia wrestled with the poisonous memory of that brunette on the steps of the hotel—she was a woman in every sense of the word. And, as she processed what he was saying, she couldn’t stop a look of disgust flashing across her face. She could just imagine the designer get-ups he’d expect to see her in. Dante saw her expression and it surprised him. He’d never had to justify wanting to buy a woman clothes before.

  ‘A friend of mine is going to look after you.’

  Alicia snorted. A friend. No doubt a previous lover who was bohemian enough to dress his current women. And it galled her that he’d been certain enough of her compliance that he’d already made the appointment. Her tardiness on leaving her apartment seemed childishly pathetic now.

  His voice cut through her thoughts. ‘She’s eighty years old and has the mind of a steel trap. You can take that disparaging look off your face. Your opinion of my reputation is quite obvious and I won’t have you making faces every time someone mentions a woman in connection with me.’

  ‘And yet it’s OK for everyone to think that I’m merely your new bit of fluff?’

  ‘After the stunt you pulled, I think it’s only fair. And necessary, as I’ve pointed out to you.’

  Damn, did she have to be so argumentative? Already he was tempted to shut her up in a very satisfying way.

  She turned more fully in her seat. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of standing up in the cabin again. ‘Might I remind you that you were the one who initiated that kiss, not me.’

  Dante felt an instinctive need to protect himself. His face was stiff, his hands were clenched. ‘Should I have let you shout out to the world that I was the neglectful absentee father of your sister’s baby? Your sister, who lay in a hospital in England in a grave condition? When I wasn’t even aware of that fact?’

  He shook his head, his eyes sparking. ‘Luckily, I remembered your little outburst from the week before, so I had a fair idea of what you were going to say. I had to shut you up, that was all.’

  Alicia sat back, defl
ated. He hadn’t known of Melanie’s accident. She would have been taking an unfair advantage. It killed her to admit that he did, in a way, have the moral high ground in this. And it also killed her somewhere to know that he’d kissed her with pure premeditated efficiency. And even though he’d kissed her yesterday too…She could recall his cool regard straight afterwards, as if he’d been conducting an experiment, as if his whole world hadn’t gone up in flames, like hers had.

  Waking up from a deep sleep, Alicia felt terror flood her bones. She was being held tight against a powerful body. It was dark; she didn’t know where she was. She started to struggle fiercely, her mind clouding over in panic.

  ‘Let me go, put me down.’ The words wouldn’t come out strong enough.

  ‘Dio! You’re like a cat; will you calm down? I’m only carrying you because even the plane landing didn’t wake you up.’

  Alicia tensed and stopped struggling immediately. Clarity rushed in. She was in Dante’s arms. He was striding across the tarmac of the small private Milan airport. She wasn’t working in the aid group any more. And then something she hadn’t felt in such a long time—if ever—rushed through her.

  She felt safe.

  She looked up and saw a firm jaw clenched tightly. An implacable expression on his handsome face. She fought against relaxing against him and kept herself rigid until they reached a nearby car and he put her down. She couldn’t look at him and just mumbled, ‘I was having a dream…didn’t know where I was.’

  ‘Well, we’re in Milan. Welcome back to Italy.’

  He smiled grimly and Alicia looked at him then. The bottom fell out of her stomach. How bizarre to think she was safe when she knew she’d probably never been in more danger in her life.

  He ushered her into the car and within half an hour they were pulling up outside a beautiful crumbling building. Still slightly disorientated from her heavy sleep—the relief of knowing that Melanie was on the mend and being minded meant she could finally relax—she moved as if blindfolded. She let Dante show her into a small, ancient yet luxuriously furnished palazzo, up to a bedroom where she closed the door behind her after a brief sterile goodnight.

  She undressed in the dark, crawled under the covers and gave in to the much needed restorative sleep that claimed her again. Tomorrow…was her last thought. Tomorrow I’ll think about what it meant to feel so safe, with him of all people…

  When Alicia woke in the morning, it was to a gentle knocking and her door being opened by a shy pretty girl in jeans and a casual top.

  ‘Buon giorno…’

  ‘Boun giorno,’ Alicia repeated sleepily, a little bemused as the girl came in and pulled back heavy curtains.

  She turned and smiled at Alicia. She spoke in halting English, clearly having rehearsed her speech. ‘Signore D’Aquanni said to wake you and tell you that he is in the dining room having breakfast.’

  Alicia smiled weakly as orientation rushed back, ‘Thank you…Grazie.’

  The girl left and closed the door quietly after her. Alicia flopped back on to the huge pillow. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken to feel so clear, restored, refreshed. And so confused and bewildered at the remarkable chain of events.

  The memory of waking last night to find herself being carried in Dante’s arms flashed back into her head. She tensed. She knew that she was being a coward, but in an effort to avoid thinking about how that had made her feel, she perversely opted for going directly into the lion’s den.

  A short time later she found her way downstairs and into a charming, bright dining room. A big polished table with a stunning vase of extravagant blooms at one end of the polished mahogany. And Dante D’Aquanni at the other end, sipping coffee and reading a paper. He looked up and his eyes seemed to bore right through her.

  ‘Sleep well?’

  The tension that seemed ever present around them hummed like an electrical charge. She nodded. ‘Like a baby.’

  She walked over and sat down and the same young girl came in with orange juice, fresh coffee, croissants, fruit. Alicia hadn’t seen such a feast in so long that her stomach rumbled loudly. With her face going pink, she looked over and saw Dante smiling at the young girl as she poured him more coffee. It made the room tilt dizzily. That smile should come with a health warning, she thought, even as she itched to wipe it from his face.

  ‘Alicia, this is Patrizia, the daughter of my housekeeper, Rosa. She’s working here for her summer holidays and giving her mamma a break.’

  Alicia was glad of the distraction, her face was still burning. She looked up. ‘Hello, Patrizia.’

  The girl blushed, giggled lightly and left the room.

  Alicia sighed. A serious case of hero worship. And who could blame the girl? She busied herself with food, feeling her appetite return for the first time in days. That made her think of the pasta Dante had had sent up to her in her room in the villa at Lake Como. The way the housekeeper had taken care of her. The way he’d just smiled at Patrizia. She sneaked a glance at him. He was engrossed in the paper, long brown fingers holding it up. And then she remembered the feeling of his hand on her breast, the calluses. The evidence that his hands weren’t soft, but hard. Her breathing stopped, her nipples tightened. She dropped her knife with a jarring clatter and Dante looked up with a frown.

  ‘Sorry…’ Alicia furiously willed down the rising tide of shame.

  He put down the paper and Alicia concentrated on spreading jam on a rapidly crumbling croissant.

  ‘I’ve booked you into the boutique this morning, we leave in an hour.’

  She looked up, her hands stilling. ‘We?’

  He nodded. ‘I have some things to attend to at my offices here; I’ll drop you off and come back to pick you up.’

  ‘Oh.’ Relief flooded her.

  He smiled and it was predatory. ‘Shopping has always bored me to tears, so don’t worry, not even the thought of seeing your delectable form draped in all kinds of silk would induce me to sit for hours while you posture and preen.’

  And simultaneously, as he said those words, Dante had a sudden fantasy image of her naked body, wrapped only in silk, and couldn’t imagine anything he’d want to see more. Before he could give himself away—his out of control reactions—he drained his coffee and stood. ‘I’ll see you in the hall, then.’

  Alicia’s mouth gaped as she watched him leave, a whole list of retorts which she hadn’t had the chance to get out trembling on her lips. Posture and preen? She hadn’t postured and preened even in her teenage make-up experimentation years. The man was insufferable. And, even more disconcerting, he thought her form delectable? She took a big gulp of coffee and yelped in pain when it burned her mouth.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘I’LL be back for you in a couple of hours. I’m looking forward to never seeing those shapeless garments again.’

  Alicia had her hand on the car door handle and nearly fell out when the driver opened it for her. She just looked at Dante murderously. Her mouth still smarted painfully from the coffee. She wanted to say something—anything—and had to settle for an incoherent grunt.

  ‘Ciao…’ came softly from behind her in the car and she took great pleasure in slamming the door shut, much to the driver’s surprise.

  Two hours passed quickly. Alicia hadn’t known that it was possible to spend so much time in one shop. Between fittings, she’d stood in her tatty underwear, surrounded by fabric and shoes. It was the kind of place where you had to ring a bell to get in and when she’d arrived she’d almost expected to be turned away, and had wondered for a second what she would do if that happened. Alone with no money in a foreign city. No phone number for Dante, no phone. Instead of feeling relief, she’d actually felt something much more confusing.

  But then the door had opened and a tall woman with silvergrey hair and impeccable carriage had taken one look at her and said in perfect English, ‘Ah. You must be Alicia. Dante described you perfectly. I am Signora Pasquale.’

  Alicia’s
cheeks had burned for about the umpteenth time that morning, as the woman and her assistants had proceeded to strip her completely. Every now and then the very intimidating Signora would come in and look at Alicia, tutting, ‘You are so tiny. What can I do?’ And, with her arms in the air, she’d go off again.

  Eventually Alicia heard the bell ring authoritatively and knew it was him. Stupidly, she wrapped her arms around herself, even though she knew he wouldn’t see her. Butterflies fluttered in her belly. She heard the low rumble of his voice, the tinkling laughter of Signora Pasquale and, even though the woman was eighty, something very disturbing flared in Alicia’s chest. One of the assistants came in then with rosy cheeks. Alicia’s mouth tightened. She was going to start calling it the Dante effect.

  ‘Here are some casual clothes; the Signora had them delivered. They will do you for day wear until the main clothes arrive at Signore D’Aquanni’s villa in a couple of days.’

  The girl held out a beautifully folded pile of clothes and what looked like a leather weekend bag, also full of clothes. When Alicia unfolded them she found a silk camisole top in burnished copper, a cream skirt and matching underwear. Kitten heel sandals in a dark complementary gold—very simple, very Italian and very stylish. As much as she hated this—the waste and extravagance—the feel of the silky fabric against her skin made her close her eyes with a stirring of guilty pleasure. It had been so long since she’d let herself feel anything like it.

  With the bag in one hand and the matching jacket of the suit in the other, Alicia emerged. Dante was sitting down, drinking a cup of coffee, talking to the designer. He looked up and his hand stilled on the way to his mouth. His whole body stilled. Apart from the tantalizing glimpses he’d had while she’d lain sleeping on the bed in his villa and that all too brief moment in his lap on the plane, he’d had to imagine her shape.

  She looked at him defiantly and Dante felt as if they were the only two people in the room, the designer and her assistants forgotten. What she was wearing wasn’t in any way overtly sexy but…with her delicate curves filling it out, he’d never seen anyone so alluring. Everything was in proportion—every curve, every swell. He imagined spanning her waist with one hand. Her skin was lightly tanned—soft and silky. For the first time in his life, he was rendered speechless.