by Abby Green
An arm went through hers. ‘Darling, let’s let the men talk boring work and tell me all about your plans for the wedding.’
Keelin blinked at her mother before letting herself be led away, fuming inwardly at the implication that she couldn’t be part of that conversation. And as if for all the world this was a genuine wedding and she and Gianni were some sort of besotted couple. She said acerbically, ‘Don’t you mean discuss the plans for this business arrangement?’
Her mother darted a glance around and then pulled Keelin into a secluded corner. Gone was any attempt to feign affection and the truth was visible of an attractive woman who was ageing and not happy about the process or the fact that her daughter was far more beautiful than she’d ever been.
‘What is wrong with you? That man is young, handsome and rich. You could do a lot worse, you know.’ Her mother sounded almost peevish.
Keelin sighed inwardly. That was all her mother understood—the currency of a rich husband and being socially acceptable. After all, she’d made it her life’s work, especially when she hadn’t been able to have more children after Keelin, which she’d borne a totally irrational sense of guilt about for as long as she could remember.
Keelin valiantly pushed aside old wounds. ‘You mean worse than have a chance to work for the family business and be independent?’
Her mother all but snorted. ‘Darling, I’ve never understood this obsession you have, and why work when you don’t have to?’
Her darker green eyes narrowed on her daughter. ‘I really hope you’re not going to be difficult about this. Your father will be very angry—’
Keelin cut her off crisply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve already been told what’ll happen if I walk away.’
Dolores O’Connor didn’t even have the grace to look remotely concerned or guilty. ‘Most girls would give their eye teeth to be in your position.’
Keelin felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck just before an arm slid around her waist and a large hot body came alongside hers. Once again she had to battle that urge to just sink against him. She stiffened against the tide of sensations that washed through her. It only showed up a lingering pathetic need for some kind of male approval.
Her mother gave a completely unsubtle look to Keelin and excused herself with a wholly inappropriate girlish giggle. Keelin rounded on Gianni when they were alone, dislodging his arm from around her.
‘What’s with the PDA? I don’t think anyone could care less how authentic we are.’
She glanced around at the chattering crowd and surmised, ‘It’s not as if all these people are actually in love with their partners.’
Gianni tutted and drawled, ‘So cynical and so young. What made you like this, Keelin?’
She looked at him. ‘And you’re not?’ The man oozed cynicism. She hated that he could slide a blade under her skin so neatly and declared, ‘I need a drink.’
He looked pointedly at her champagne and she answered expressively, ‘Of something I actually like.’
She went to move around him and he stopped her with a hand on her upper arm again, fingers brushing far too close to the swell of her breasts.
‘No one else might care how authentic we are, Keelin, but I do. Do I need to remind you how authentic we can be if I touch you? So when we’re in public we are together.’
Keelin fought down the panic at the thought of Gianni demonstrating how weak she was in front of all these people and said as witheringly as she could, ‘I wouldn’t have had you down as a romantic fantasist, Gianni.’
Childishly pleased that she’d had the parting shot, she pulled her arm free and walked away, steering well clear of where her parents were talking to another couple nearby. The last thing she needed now was for her father to join in loading on the pressure.
By the time Keelin got to the discreet bar in the corner of the room and ordered a drink, she was wondering what was stopping her from just walking out the door and to hell with the lot of them.
She turned around and surveyed the room. Some of the world’s most powerful and important people were here. People whose opinions counted and mattered. And that’s why she couldn’t walk away. Not yet. Because she wanted this too—to be counted and listened to. Given a chance. And also, disturbingly, Gianni’s darkly handsome face kept flashing into her mind.
As if loath to let her have that parting shot, he approached her through the crowd now, eyes on her in such an assessing way that her skin rose up in goosebumps of anticipation.
He stopped before her and looked at the bottle of beer in her hand. ‘Must you?’
She gritted her jaw and vowed that she would get through this experience and come out on the other side with everything she’d ever wanted. And for it to make not walking away worth it.
In answer, she took a healthy swig from the bottle and dared him to take it off her and replace it with something far more genteel and ladylike.
* * *
Gianni swallowed down the urge to rip the bottle out of Keelin’s hands. But if drinking out of a beer bottle was going to be the worst of her behaviour tonight, then he’d put up with it.
She stood out with her pale skin and red hair like a bird of paradise against a much duller background. And it galled him that he’d observed her smiling at people all evening, only for that smile to fade as soon as he came close.
It wasn’t a smile as wide as the one he’d seen in the photo at her father’s office but it was close. And since when had that become some kind of barometer? He cursed himself now as he steered Keelin back towards the crowd to introduce her to some colleagues. And he also pushed down the niggle of curiosity about how she’d been with her parents. She’d almost recoiled when he’d mentioned that they’d arrived and it certainly hadn’t been a happy family reunion.
God knew, he had the experience of despising his father until the day he’d died, so he knew antipathy when he saw it. But in spite of that relationship, he and his mother were close, even if she did insist on living outside of Rome in the family home, keeping the house like some kind of mausoleum to his father’s memory. Gianni had never been able to understand his mother’s slavish devotion to the man who had made her life miserable on a regular basis. He’d decided long ago that if that was love, then he could quite happily live without it.
Thinking of that now made Gianni feel a little raw. He knew he didn’t want love so why was he even remembering that? But right then he also didn’t want a wife who was hell-bent on thwarting him at every turn. Acting on impulse, counting on Keelin’s ambition, he pulled her aside just before they entered the throng again and said in a low voice, ‘If you do want out, Keelin, truly, then this is your chance.’
* * *
Caught by surprise Keelin looked at Gianni and saw the gleam of challenge in his eyes just before he deftly caught a passing waiter and swapped her bottle of beer for a glass of champagne. Then he took up a small spoon from a nearby table and tapped his glass so that a melodic ring chimed out and everyone stopped talking and turned to face them.
Keelin’s stomach went into freefall. What the hell was he up to?
When they had everyone’s attention, and Keelin could see her parents looking at them with faux fondness, Gianni said in a voice that commanded attention, ‘Thank you all for coming this evening to help celebrate my engagement to this beautiful woman.’
Keelin’s sense of nausea rose. Gianni pulled her close and raised his glass. ‘To my fiancée, Keelin, with whom I look forward to a very successful, long and enduring partnership.’
Everyone clinked glasses and saluted them, taking drinks of the sparkling wine. When they’d done the toast Gianni let her go slightly and looked down. Keelin met his gaze with a murderous one of her own. As every second passed she felt as if she were being hurtled further and further away from where she wanted to be.
Comprehension sank in. He was daring her to do her worst. To declare in front of everyone that this was a sham, or worse? Walk out the door? She recognised that this was a moment of no return. Everything would be dictated by what she did now. Gianni was calling her bluff, asking her to prove how badly she wanted out of this arrangement.
All she had to do was to say the words and walk away. She could already imagine the look on her parents’ faces. Her father’s going red, her mother’s shock and embarrassment in front of all these important people.
And for a moment she was sorely tempted. She opened her mouth. And then she caught Gianni’s eye; he was taunting her for his amusement. And that was the thing that firmed her resolve. She would not let him goad her into jeopardising everything.
So she channelled her anger and frustration to be so caught and smiled brightly. ‘I’m a woman who believes that actions speak louder than words.’
And then she deliberately put her drink down on a nearby table and turned to her fiancé. She put both hands around his face and caught his look of shock a second before their mouths met. She poured all of that anger and frustration into a bruising-hard kiss.
* * *
Gianni recovered swiftly, snaking his free arm around Keelin’s waist and hauling her even closer. He could taste the rage in her kiss and it infected his blood with an urgent need to dominate and seduce.
He moved his hand up her back and caught her hair in his fist, tugging her head back gently, but just enough so that she had to ease the pressure on his mouth. And as soon as he had that tiny space, he took over, coaxing her to open to him, sensing her resistance but using every trick in the book.
When he felt resistance give way and those lush lips open under his, the sense of triumph was faintly disturbing. He shouldn’t be feeling so buoyant just from a kiss. But there was something about this woman giving in to him, even as minutely as this, that made him ridiculously triumphant.
Gianni was aware on some dim level that they were in a room full of people whose opinion mattered to him, but he couldn’t seem to care. All he wanted to do was wrap both arms around Keelin and plunder her mouth until he was drunk on her scent and taste. Until he could taste all of her.
He finally broke the kiss and drew back, looking down at her. It took a long second for her to open her eyes and when she did they were dark green and filled with depths and lights that made Gianni want to push her away. Fast. But he couldn’t. They were being watched. And now their appreciative crowd was clapping and cheering.
Every provocative curve of her body was imprinted against him and he cursed silently, furiously willing his body to cool down for fear of people seeing just how undone she made him feel.
* * *
‘I’ve been looking for you for the past thirty minutes.’
Keelin whirled around from where she’d been standing on an empty terrace just off a quiet garden courtyard in the hotel, seeing but not seeing the amazing view of Rome at night laid out before her.
Her head was still too consumed with that kiss and how effortlessly Gianni had shown his dominance, again. As soon as she could she’d escaped, feeling far too claustrophobic, as if a net was tightening around her. And hot, needing air to cool down.
She raised the hand that still held her clutch bag. ‘Well, now you’ve found me.’
He said in a low voice, as if mindful they might not be totally alone, ‘I don’t appreciate being ambushed in public.’
‘That’s rich coming from you!’ Keelin said with reproof, still vibrating angrily from that explosive kiss. Not that she could even blame him!
She turned her back to the view. ‘And what do you call staging that party and inviting my parents if not an ambush?’
Gianni’s bow tie was undone, his top button open—as if he’d done it with impatience, looking for her? She tried not to notice how dark and gorgeous he was against the lush backdrop of the hotel garden.
He narrowed his gaze. ‘Seeing you with your parents certainly was interesting.’
Keelin tossed her head and batted away the vulnerability. It wasn’t her fault her parents didn’t love her, even though she’d not truly believed that for a long time. They were just supremely selfish people who never should have had a child.
‘Believe me, they’ll be only too happy to wash their hands of me and hand me over like some kind of medieval chattel. Does that make me a little less palatable?’
He smiled but it was hard. ‘Not in the least. I won’t have to endure interminable in-law dinners with them.’
His obduracy pushed Keelin over an edge. She threw up her hands. ‘This is crazy! We should just call it off here and now. It’ll never work.’
‘That’s the problem, you can’t call it off and I won’t,’ Gianni pointed out calmly enough to make her frustration increase. ‘It’ll work just fine. You’ll have everything you could possibly need. I’ll make sure you’re happy.’
Keelin stalked forward, quivering with anger. ‘You wouldn’t have the first clue about what might make me happy but I’ll give you a hint—you’re nowhere near the vicinity of that picture.’
She was shocked to find herself feeling so agitated and hated it. It reminded her of the futile rage she’d felt growing up that had ended up in bids for attention and she was damned if she was going to let this man induce it again. She forced herself to calm.
Gianni’s voice had an edge. ‘You know, I think I preferred it when you were vacuous and shallow.’
Something awfully like hurt gripped Keelin inside. ‘Most men would prefer that easier option, my father certainly does. And tell me,’ she asked in a rush, ‘where exactly will I fit into your life—presumably while you’re off building your empire?’
She put up a hand. ‘Wait, don’t tell me—I’ll be tied to a bed, awaiting your return for the next bout of conjugal rights?’
Gianni folded his arms, making muscles bunch. Keelin hated being so aware of him.
‘I’ve never indulged in bondage before,’ he drawled, ‘but I’m certainly willing to give it a go. I hear it’s the in thing.’
To her shock and horror, an image popped into her head of Gianni on his back, naked, with his arms tied high above his head, as she straddled him and bent down, her hair trailing over his chest, mouth watering at the prospect of tasting his skin—
She abruptly shut down that very rogue thought and blurted out hotly, ‘You’re impossible. This whole situation is impossible.’
‘Like I said before, there’s nothing stopping you from walking out the door, Keelin. I’m no gaoler,’ he pointed out unhelpfully.
She made a pfft sound. ‘As if you’d let me thwart your chances now.’
Gianni shrugged and gave all the appearance of being at ease but she could sense the tension in him. ‘I’m sure I can find a deal to achieve global distribution elsewhere, but not with half the kudos that O’Connor’s can bring me, so no, I won’t let you thwart my chances.’
In a fit of angry frustration, Keelin turned back to the view, aghast to feel the prickle of hot tears. Dammit. She would not let this man make her cry.
‘You looked happy in the photo in your father’s office.’
Keelin blinked and went still, surprised as much by the abrupt change of subject as the fact that Gianni had noticed that photo.
Slowly she turned around again, crossing her arms tight across her chest. ‘What did you imagine, Gianni? That the picture was taken by a loving father indulging his daughter in her favourite activity?’
She answered herself. ‘As you’ve seen this evening, that’s hardly the case. That picture was taken on a hacienda in Andalusia. I went out there one summer with a schoolf
riend—’ She just stopped herself in time from saying, Because my parents were too busy to spend time with me, hating the moment of self-pity.
‘One of the trainers took the picture. When my father saw it on my phone he insisted he get a copy of it. It’s not in his office as a tender reminder of his daughter. It’s there because he likes to promote the myth that we are a normal loving family.’
Gianni’s face was inscrutable. ‘What was it about the horses that you liked so much?’
Now Keelin felt even more exposed. ‘Why do you want to know?’ she asked tetchily.
Gianni sounded almost weary. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘We need to get to know each other, Keelin.’
Her immediate instinct was to deny this but then something of his weariness and the futility of this whole situation crept into her system and the urge to fight seemed to dissolve away, treacherously.
She avoided Gianni’s eye and shrugged minutely. ‘It was the first time anyone gave me responsibility for something. Proper responsibility. They needed an extra pair of hands because one of their grooms was taken ill.’
She looked up, but Gianni was still expressionless. It made it easier. ‘I stayed at the stables with the grooms, in the most rudimentary of accommodation. When we weren’t working with the horses and exercising them, we helped with picking the vines for the harvest. I’d never worked so hard. I don’t think I knew what work was until then and it made me realise that I could be of use, that I had the ability to make a difference, work within a team.’
What she didn’t say was that those were the happiest days of her life, living so simply and freely. For once not thinking of some new way to make her father notice her. Even though, when he found out what she’d been doing, he hit the roof and dragged her back home. He wouldn’t let her into his world, but he also wasn’t going to see his daughter doing dirty work. Her mother had been disgusted. She’d gone conker brown and had calluses all over her hands.