by Annie West
‘Calm?’ he growled. ‘If I could get my hands on the paparazzo who took those photos, or whoever made up that story about me and Gina—’
‘You wouldn’t touch them. Murder is still illegal in Italy.’ His friend strode beside him as they hurried down a long alley that snaked towards Venice’s main square.
‘You’re sure they were at San Marco?’
Angela still had her phone switched off but Niccolo, arriving at the hotel just as Matteo left, brought news that she and Gina Moretti had been seen out together, their photos making a splash on social media. Apparently speculation was rife about his wife and supposed lover meeting the same day the story of his alleged infidelity broke.
Though why the women would choose the busiest piazza in the whole of Venice to meet, he had no idea. If Angela really believed that story…
Matteo’s heart sank. It was the worst possible timing. He and Angela had reconciled but their reunion was so new and fragile. He knew she wanted to trust him but those photos had looked all too convincing. Unless you knew they’d been discussing a difficult scene and Gina had suggested a new approach they could try the next day.
If only they’d waited till they got to the set to test out her suggestion!
If only—
‘As if I’d get a detail like that wrong. I know the place like the back of my hand. I remember…’ Niccolo dredged up a reminiscence about some PR event he’d attended there, surrounded by hordes of screaming fans and a particularly ineffectual MC.
Dimly Matteo noted the irony of choosing Venice, a city with canals instead of roads, to celebrate Niccolo’s racing success. But he didn’t really care. All he cared about was finding his wife. His friend was trying to distract him from the acid churning through his belly, and the fear, so real its weight was heavy on his shoulders. This time there’d be no second chance.
No! He refused to think that way. Angela was his. He’d fight for her, no matter what it took to convince her of the truth. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again.
‘Here.’ His stride lengthened as the passage met the covered portico that ran round three sides of the piazza. Ahead, in the sun, were tourists, pigeons and a small sea of café tables.
Matteo’s pulse tripped. He narrowed his eyes, surveying the vast expanse. For an instant he saw nothing but crowds. Then his brain made sense of the scene before him and he realised that despite the picturesque cathedral and palace at the far end of the piazza, and the towering campanile, there was yet another focus for the milling tourists’ attention.
‘This way.’ He strode down and into the sunlight, Niccolo at his shoulder.
Gina’s rich red hair would draw most people’s attention, but it was the pale gold silk swirling around Angela’s bare arms that snared his gaze. His stomach contracted on a wave of reaction. He didn’t take time to find a name for the emotions soaring through him.
She looked fabulous, relaxed and sexy in a stunning green dress. Her arms were bare as if to catch the sun and she wore the locket that drew attention to the perfection of her slender throat. A smile lit her face as she chatted with Gina and his heart juddered from the impact even at this distance.
Derisive amusement twisted Matteo’s gut. Angela could wear a sack, or neck to knee raincoat, and he’d still think she looked fabulous.
She was under his skin, in his heart, and always would be.
‘Matteo, are you sure you want to do this here?’
He slowed his pace, casting a sharp glance at his friend. ‘I need to see her. To explain.’
Abruptly Niccolo nodded, following as Matteo took the lead towards the table at the centre of so much attention.
‘Matteo! Darling!’ Gina’s professionally modulated tones rose above the surrounding chatter. Was it imagination or did that chatter hush? ‘And Niccolo Marchesi too. Aren’t we lucky, Angela?’
Matteo slammed to a stop before his wife, the blood pounding too fast in his arteries, his breath unsteady as she looked up at him.
Yet instead of doubt or recrimination, he read nothing but pleasure in her eyes.
Could it be?
Dimly he was aware of Niccolo saying something to Gina and of Gina rising to join him, turning away as if to admire the view of the piazza. But his attention was focused on Angela.
‘Darling, you came.’ The wattage of her smile made him blink. ‘We wondered what kept you.’
She put out her hand to him and Matteo instantly clasped it in his, discovering the rushing pulse on the underside of her wrist. Angela was far from relaxed, despite the image she projected.
What in hell was going on?
‘Tesoro.’ He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her palm, feeling her trembling response, and something like hope filtered through his brain.
He yanked a chair out from the table and sank into it, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the lips.
At least he intended it to be light, a statement of intent for anyone who cared to notice, but when her mouth clung to his, something shorted in his brain.
The taste of her, that delicious, familiar scent…
He cupped her chin with his free hand, savouring her warmth, the softness of her skin, and the reassuring solidity of her, here, where he needed her. Slim fingers cupped the back of his scalp and relief racked him.
‘Angela.’ The words were a mere vibration against her lips as he made himself pull back, belatedly recalling their public venue.
Yet the magic didn’t end, for her toffee brown eyes glowed brighter than he’d ever seen.
‘Thank you for coming.’
He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip and watched, with mesmerised satisfaction as her eyelids fluttered. ‘Of course I came. Why didn’t you contact me?’
‘You needed your sleep. I decided Gina and I could handle this. Our phones are off right now anyway. Too many people trying to call us and get a scoop.’
‘You didn’t believe…?’ He didn’t bother completing the question when Angela shook her head so emphatically.
‘Not for a second. I knew there’d be an explanation. I rang Gina and she said it was an impromptu rehearsal.’
Matteo read the truth in his wife’s eyes. She really had believed in him. It hadn’t been a matter of Gina needing to explain.
‘I knew I had to do something to scotch the story. So I suggested to Gina that we have a girls’ day out together, drawing as much attention as possible. I figured, once people saw we were friends it might stop the other story, or at least cast some doubt.’ Angela shrugged. ‘You and Niccolo turning up here was a bonus. It almost looks like a double date.’
‘I don’t give a damn about the story. I only care about you and what you believe.’
‘Darling.’ Her low voice was like a stroke of gentle fingers across his bare flesh. ‘I care. I care about you and your reputation, and Gina’s for that matter. I care about our film too. And I’m ready to fight for what I believe in.’
Matteo leaned in and kissed her, a mere brush of the lips against hers. Yet it was the sweetest caress, a gift and a promise.
‘I love you, Angela. I don’t have the words to tell you how much.’
If he thought she’d glowed before, she was positively incandescent now.
‘I love you too,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t have enough words either and I’m the screenwriter in the family.’
Family. That word alone was magic. It gave solidity to everything he felt for this one, special woman.
And there was love too. Angela loved him. He felt the power of that with every breath he took.
For long moments they were lost in each other, till the shrill squeals of an excited child somewhere in the vicinity penetrated.
Matteo sat back, gradually taking in their surroundings. Sure enough, they were being watched discreetly and not-so-discreetly by everyone in the vicinity, though no-one sat close enough to hear their murmured conversation.
And Niccolo, being an excellent friend, was giving them pri
vacy. He was currently halfway across the piazza, apparently showing Gina the sights as if she’d never been to Venice before.
‘They look good together.’ Angela murmured. ‘That will keep the photographers busy and it helps our cause if they think they’re a pair.’
‘They’d make quite a couple.’
‘Yes, but it won’t go anywhere. I suspect there’s already someone special in Niccolo’s life.’
That jerked Matteo’s gaze around to his wife. Niccolo was happily single, spectacularly so. ‘Not that I heard.’
But Matteo found he had no interest in Niccolo’s love life. A smile broke free as he drank in Angela’s radiant beauty.
His eyes dropped to the pretty locket she wore and he remembered the jealousy that had skewered him, wondering if she carried some man’s photo there.
‘You want to see inside it?’ She’d caught his look.
Matteo shook his head. ‘Only if you want me to.’ He guessed it was a photo of her mother.
For answer she leaned close, inviting him to open it. Her eyes never left his and what he felt now was stronger even than the zap and crackle of sexual attraction. This powerful emotion ran deeper, stronger, with the force of an ocean tide.
His fingers were unsteady as he slipped his hand between the gold and her warm flesh, working the catch.
It sprang open and sure enough, there was her mother, a pretty woman with a vivacious smile. But what made his heart hammer was the photo on the second side. A photo of him, hair rumpled and chest bare, laughing.
He remembered that photo. Angela had snapped it on their honeymoon. Seconds later he’d lunged across the bed and dragged her back down onto it so they could make love again.
That day had been filled with laughter and passion and a happiness so deep-seated it had changed him forever. He’d understood then that his life would only ever feel whole with his bright, shining angel in it.
Matteo cleared his throat and still the words came out husky. ‘I never thought you’d keep this.’
Angela placed her hand along his jaw, pulling his head up till he met her loving gaze.
‘I couldn’t throw it away. Even when I thought the worst. You’re a part of me.’
This time their kiss was feather-light, a gentle brush of lips, a trembling promise. Yet the power of what they shared left Matteo awed. It would take a lifetime with Angela to express fully how he felt about her.
‘You know I adore you.’ It was a small start.
Her smile was wondrous, filling all the dark shadows their separation had created. ‘And I adore you.’
‘For a woman who doesn’t like the limelight you’ve coped wonderfully with being kissed in front of half the world.’ Satisfaction filled him. And possessiveness. Angela was unequivocally his. She hadn’t doubted him but instead had acted to protect him. The knowledge made his chest swell. ‘You do realise there’ll be people posting photos of us everywhere now?’
‘Let them. We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.’ Her fingers gripped his tighter and a pulse of heat charged up from her grasp, igniting arousal.
‘Excellent.’ He stood, pulling her up with him. She came breathlessly, her smile dazzling.
Matteo tossed some money onto the table to cover the coffees, nodded to the hovering waiter, and led Angela away from the café.
‘Where are we going?’ She sounded excited, so happy she all but fizzed with it.
Matteo knew the feeling. The very blood in his veins was effervescent. There was a spring in his step and surely the sun shone more brightly than it had an hour ago.
He released her hand, instead slipping his arm around her, holding her close. ‘We’re going to expand upon your clever strategy by taking a very public, very romantic gondola ride. Do you think you’d mind being seen kissing in every canal in Venice?’
Angela’s dreamy smile became a sexy grin that almost undid him. ‘I look forward to it. Though it would take longer than an afternoon to get to every canal.’
Matteo led her past the Palace of the Doges towards the water and a row of gently swaying gondolas. ‘Good. That gives us a goal to work towards.’
The sound of his wife’s laughter filled his soul.
Who would have believed life could ever be this good?
THANK YOU
Thanks for reading The Italian’s Bold Reckoning. I hope you enjoyed it!
MORE
To find out more about any of my stories,
Visit my website
Sign up for my exclusive reader newsletter for advance notice of new releases, giveaways and behind the scenes info
Or follow me on Facebook
I welcome all honest reviews, so if you feel inclined, do consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews and word of mouth recommendations are how I often find new authors.
If you liked this story, you may have fun with my other Hot Italian Nights Novellas:
1. Back in the Italian’s Bed
No woman walks away from billionaire Fabrizio Armati’s bed. No woman except Jenna MacDonald. Now he’ll stop at nothing to get her back, and keep her there.
It’s love at first sight for Jenna when charismatic hotelier Fabrizio Armati sweeps her off her feet in Venice. That chance encounter sparks a sizzling affair that lasts until she discovers Fabrizio sees her as no more than a convenient, expendable mistress. Then her world falls apart.
Six months later Jenna tells herself she’s moved on. Until Fabrizio walks into a meeting to find her working for his greatest rival. She’s about to discover just how far he’ll go to get her back in his bed.
When revenge turns to passion, will surrender be on his terms, or hers?
2. Bought by the Italian
She’s up for sale, and he’s the highest bidder.
Gennaro De Laurentis might prefer motorcycle leathers to Armani, but when it comes to what he wants, he’s as ruthless as any corporate raider in a killer suit. And he wants Chiara, the unforgettable woman who denied the passion sizzling between them and walked away without a backward glance. Now he has the high society princess back in his power – and he’ll risk everything to make her his.
When glamorous fashion designer Chiara Armati goes up for auction, she’s selling her company over dinner for charity. Nothing else. As bidding rises to astronomical heights, she gets nervous. Yet only when she discovers her purchaser’s identity does she realise she’s caught in a trap. She’s never stopped wanting Gennaro or forgiven his betrayal. Now she’s at his mercy – and he’s as irresistible as ever!
3. Bound to the Italian Boss
What the boss wants the boss gets.
Luca De Laurentis is focused on two things, adventure and expanding his billion-dollar hotel empire. He never expects those interests to collide, until the day he sees his prim and proper assistant transform into a leather-clad beauty with a taste for excitement.
Allegra Davis is determined never to be judged on her appearance again. Hence her frumpy work clothes and her move to Italy. Just her luck that the one person to recognise her in motorcycle leathers is her boss, the man she’s had a crush on for a year! Now Luca is watching her with heat in his eyes and his every touch promises pleasure. What happens when their relationship moves out of the boardroom and into the bedroom?
4. The Italian’s Bold Reckoning
He’s lured her back. Will she take the bait?
He believed their passion could never fade. Yet it’s a year since Matteo De Laurentis lived with his gorgeous, talented, obstinate wife. Angela insists they’re mismatched, but Matteo refuses to give up the only woman he’ll ever love. Italy’s sexiest leading man is determined to get his wife back. By whatever means necessary.
Angela is desperate to avoid working on this film with the handsome, charismatic actor-turned-director who happens to be her estranged husband. It was a mistake ever to think she could hold her own in his glamorous world. But now she’s trapped in Venice, unable to escape the one man who turns her brain to mu
sh and her body to a blaze of passion.
Is Matteo taking revenge to a whole new level, taunting her with everything she’s given up? Or is this seductive torture as difficult for him as it is for her? She can only pray he never discovers her secret weakness – that she’s still desperately in love with him.
5. At the Italian’s Bidding
She’s out of bounds but how can he resist?
Niccolo might risk his neck on the racing car circuit but there’s one thing he won’t risk — his friendship with the De Laurentis family. Which means he dare not give in to his feelings for his best friend’s sister, Lia De Laurentis, no matter how impossible it is to keep his distance. Yet when he needs a pretend girlfriend, just for a weekend, who else can he trust to play the part?
Lia can’t believe she says yes to Niccolo Marchesi’s outrageous request. Her teenage crush on her brother’s daredevil friend has turned into full-scale infatuation, so how is she supposed to withstand two whole nights of temptation, pretending to be his lover? She knows every touch is a lie but it feels like the real thing. When honour and passion clash, will his scruples prove stronger than her willpower?
Read an excerpt of At the Italian’s Bidding!
And there are more Hot Italian Nights stories to come.
Or you may enjoy my longer books.
ABOUT ANNIE
* * *
Growing up in Australia, I didn’t ride a kangaroo to school but I did acquire valuable survival skills like what to do when faced with a venomous snake or caught in a dangerous ocean rip. As the dangers of ocean swimming involved close observation of tall, burnished surf life savers, you could say I began researching early to become a romance writer.