Bound by a One-Night Vow

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Andrea led her to the front door of the villa but, before he could unlock it, an older woman dressed all in black opened it. Her sun-weathered face was wreathed in smiles and her black button eyes twinkled like the sun-dappled ocean below. A torrent of Italian came pouring out of her mouth but Izzy could only understand a couple of words, which she took to be an enthusiastic welcome. Such a welcome seemed a little surprising given the circumstances of her marriage to Andrea, but then she didn’t know what he’d told his housekeeper.

  ‘English please, Gianna,’ Andrea said.

  The housekeeper beamed brighter than a searchlight. ‘Mi dispiace. Sorry. I am so excited to welcome Signor’s new bride to Villa Vaccaro. You have had a good journey, sì?’

  ‘Lovely, thank you,’ Izzy said, warming to the older woman’s friendly nature.

  ‘I have prepared the master bedroom for you,’ Gianna said, sweeping her hand in front of the entrance. ‘You must carry your bride over the threshold, sì?’

  Andrea frowned. ‘Gianna. I thought I’d told you not to make a fuss. Isabella requires her own room.’

  Gianna rolled her eyes like marbles. ‘You bring a beautiful bride home and you expect me to make up the spare room for her? Pah! What sort of marriage is that?’

  ‘A marriage of convenience sort, that’s what.’ Andrea’s voice had a thread of impatience running through it. ‘Isabella and I don’t intend for this arrangement to last longer than the six months required to fulfil the terms of her father’s will. I explained all this when I called you last night.’

  The housekeeper was clearly not intimidated by her employer’s stern expression. She stood her ground with her arms folded and her dark gaze fixed on Andrea’s frowning one. ‘Marriage of convenience or not, you should still carry her over the threshold. It’s bad luck not to.’

  Andrea let out an exasperated breath and turned to Izzy. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Izzy said, trying not to laugh. She wasn’t used to seeing Andrea backed into a tight corner. It showed a softer side to him she hadn’t seen before. He clearly cared for and respected his housekeeper and was prepared to indulge her even if it was inconvenient to him.

  Andrea scooped Izzy up in his strong arms and she linked her arms around his neck. The iron bands of his arm along her back and beneath her knees sent her senses spinning. His jaw was set in a tight line and his mouth pressed flat, but even so she could feel the way his body responded to her closeness. The way his nostrils flared as if he were taking in her scent, the way his hooded gaze went to her mouth. The contraction of his abdomen muscles where her body brushed against him. She couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if she really was his bride of choice. What if their on-paper arrangement was torn up and they gave in to the passion and heat that simmered and smouldered and sizzled between them? How wonderful it would be for him to whisk her upstairs to the master suite and make earth-rocking love to her.

  He set her down in front of him inside the villa but he kept hold of one of her hands. ‘You’ll have to excuse my housekeeper,’ he said once Gianna was out of earshot. ‘She’s a hopeless romantic.’

  ‘I like her,’ Izzy said. ‘How long has she worked for you?’

  ‘Clearly too long since she’s ignoring my instructions.’ His tone had a dry edge. ‘I’ll get her to show you around. I have some things to see to in my office. Gianna?’ he called out to the housekeeper, who had moved further inside the villa. ‘Please show Isabella to the guest room.’

  Izzy followed Gianna up the sweeping staircase, wondering if Andrea had pressing business to see to or whether he was putting distance between them because of the reaction of his housekeeper to his marriage.

  Gianna led the way to a lovely suite on the first floor of the four-storey villa with a breathtaking view over the coast. ‘Signor Vaccaro’s suite is next door. See? There is a connecting door here.’ She pointed out the door with a twinkling smile. ‘Not that I think you’ll need the key, sì? I see the way he looks at you.’

  Izzy could feel a blush stealing over her cheeks. ‘It really is a marriage of convenience. Neither of us really want to be married and certainly not to each other.’ Hadn’t the housekeeper heard about Izzy’s reputation? It seemed a little odd Gianna was so enthusiastic about their union given all that had been reported about Izzy in the past.

  Gianna made another one of her ‘pah’ noises and started fussing over the pillows on the bed. ‘He has known you for a long time, sì?’

  ‘Yes, but we’re hardly what you’d call best friends.’

  Gianna straightened and turned to look at her. ‘Your father was very good to him. He helped him get started in the hotel business. He is not a man to forget those who have helped him.’

  ‘Did you ever meet my father?’

  Gianna turned to a vase of fresh flowers on the table near the window but not before Izzy saw her expression sour slightly. ‘He was a guest here once or twice. He was keen to tell me about all the charity causes he supports.’ Gianna picked up a fallen pale pink rose petal and popped it in her apron pocket. She turned and looked at Izzy again. ‘I was sorry to hear of his passing for the sake of those charities if nothing else. I’m sorry. I’m speaking out of turn. You must miss him, sì?’

  Izzy gave a lip shrug. ‘Yes and no.’

  Gianna’s gaze narrowed in query. ‘You were not close?’

  ‘Not particularly.’

  The housekeeper shifted her lips from side to side in a musing manner. ‘Yes, well, I wondered about that when Andrea told me about your father’s will. It was a strange thing to do to his only heir, was it not?’

  ‘Not strange if you knew my father,’ Izzy said with a sigh. ‘We had a complicated relationship.’

  Gianna tut-tutted. ‘But all is well now you are married to Andrea. He will take good care of you. He will make sure you get your inheritance. He is an honourable man, not that he boasts about all the good he does for others. No one would ever know about the many charities he supports. He insists on anonymity. I only know because I dust his office and came across the paperwork. You are a little bit in love with him, sì?’

  Izzy didn’t like to burst the housekeeper’s romantic bubble but her feelings towards Andrea were complex enough to her, never mind explaining them to someone else, especially to someone she’d only just met. ‘Let’s say I’m starting to see him in a different light.’

  Gianna smiled. ‘I will leave you to settle in. Would you like tea or coffee, a cool drink?’

  ‘Tea would be lovely, but I’ll come downstairs. You don’t have to wait on me.’

  ‘It is no trouble,’ Gianna said. ‘After all, you are the first woman Andrea has brought here to stay. That must count for something, no?’

  * * *

  The first woman he’d brought here to stay... It was hard not to feel a twinge of delight to think Andrea’s private sanctuary had never been shared with one of his casual lovers. Why did he keep himself so separate from others? Surely it was a little unusual to spend so much time alone? No wonder the housekeeper was in such raptures about Izzy’s arrival as his ‘bride’. But it didn’t mean he cared about her. Yes, he was honourable and had stepped up to help her claim her inheritance by marrying her according to the terms of her father’s will. And he had made a promise to keep their marriage on paper so there would be a less complicated cessation of it when the time was up.

  Why then was Izzy wondering if their marriage could be more than that? Had the housekeeper’s romantic fantasy nonsense brushed off on her?

  She looked at the adjoining door and suppressed a shiver. She moved across the room and touched the brass key sticking out of the lock. Her fingers curled around it and she gave it a single turn but, instead of locking the door, it unlocked with an audible click.

  She held her breath for a moment and watched her hand going to the doorknob as if it belonged
to someone else. She turned the doorknob and the door opened into a large suite that overlooked the coast below as well as a sweep of the wooded hills and rocky outcrops on the other side. The suite smelt faintly masculine—the hint of warm citrus and cool cedar she couldn’t help associating with Andrea. The décor was cream and white with black and gold trimmings that gave the room a regal air.

  Izzy’s eyes strayed to the king-sized bed and her head swam with images of his tanned naked body lying against the pristine white of the sheets. She went over to the bed and trailed her fingers across the nearest pillow. No one else had shared this bed with him. No one. What did that mean? That he valued his privacy. That he came here to get away from the prying eyes of the press. It didn’t mean that Izzy held any special significance in his life. She was a temporary wife to solve his problem as well as her own.

  The main door of the master suite opened and Andrea came in. He closed the door behind him, his eyes locking on hers with dark lustrous intensity. ‘I hope you’re not letting Gianna’s happy-ever-after fantasy mess with your head.’

  It wasn’t just her head that was getting messed with—her whole body was full of restless longing. ‘I was just checking the lock.’ Izzy waved her hand back towards the connecting door.

  ‘I told Gianna to put you in a suite further down the corridor.’

  ‘Was that for my benefit or yours?’

  His eyes darkened to black ink. ‘Both.’

  Izzy’s tummy tingled at the thought of him trying to keep his distance. It was thrilling to think he was as tempted as she was to put aside their on-paper marriage and indulge in a red-hot affair. ‘Gianna told me I’m the first woman you’ve ever brought here to stay.’

  He gave a rough-sounding laugh. ‘It would look odd if I didn’t bring you here since we’re married, would it not?’

  ‘I think Gianna thinks you’re secretly in love with me and me with you.’

  His gaze became even more direct. ‘And are you?’

  It was Izzy’s turn to laugh but she didn’t quite pull it off with the same convincing ease. ‘Of course not.’

  He gave a stiff on-off smile. ‘Better keep it that way.’

  Izzy tossed her hair back behind her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry. I have no intention of falling in love with you.’

  ‘But you want me.’ His gaze went to her mouth and back to her eyes in a heartbeat. ‘Don’t you, cara?’

  Izzy swallowed, her heart kicking up its pace the longer he held her gaze with the searing probe of his. Desire throbbed in the air like an electrical current. She felt it zinging along her flesh, up and down her spine, pooling in a cave of molten heat between her thighs. ‘We agreed this was going to be a hands-off arrangement.’ Why had her voice betrayed her by coming out so breathy and husky?

  Andrea came to stand in front of her—every pore of her body was acutely, desperately aware of him. His eyes dipped to her mouth and a wave of longing swept through her at the thought of his hard possessive mouth taking hers captive. His hand came up and cradled the side of her face. It was such a tender caress, a disarming resolve-melting touch that made her desire for him escalate even further. His thumb moved across her cheek in a slow-moving stroke that made her skin tingle and her heart skip a beat. ‘You shouldn’t have come in here.’ His voice was a deep bass with a grace note of gravel.

  Izzy licked her suddenly bone-dry lips, her gaze flicking to the lazy curve of his mouth. ‘You should have locked and bolted the door on your side.’

  He inched up her chin, meshing his gaze with hers in a sensually charged lock that made her stomach swoop. ‘I’m trying to do the right thing by you, but you keep making it so damn difficult.’ His thumb brushed over her lower lip, sending hot little pulses of delight through her sensitive skin. ‘A sexual relationship between us will only complicate things.’

  Izzy sent her tongue over where his thumb had just been and tasted his saltiness on her lip. ‘I’m not asking you to sleep with me.’

  A glint of cynicism lit his eyes. ‘Are you not?’

  She lowered her gaze from the probe of his, but looking at his mouth made her desire for him all the more intense. ‘I’m not sure what I’m asking...’ It was a lie. She knew exactly what she was asking. What she wanted. What she craved. Him.

  He brought up her chin and meshed his gaze with hers. ‘If we slept together it would only be for the duration of our marriage. You do understand that, don’t you?’

  Izzy placed her hands on the hard flat plane of his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. ‘It’s not like we can sleep with anyone else while we’re married. So why not make the most of being tied together for six months?’ She could barely believe she had been so brazen about her desire to sleep with him when for all this time she had vehemently denied wanting him. But it seemed pointless to deny it when he only had to look at her to see how much he affected her. Hadn’t he always?

  Andrea framed her face in his broad hands, his thumbs moving back and forth across her cheeks in a mesmerising caress that made her skin sing with delight. ‘Something about this feels wrong and yet so damn right.’ He brought his mouth down to hers and brushed his lips against hers. It was a soft experimental touchdown but, as if the warmth from her lips ignited a flare in his, the kiss became suddenly passionate, a bruising press of hungry lips fuelled by primitive carnal need.

  Izzy was swept away by the thrilling heart-stopping force of it, the glide and thrust of his tongue against hers making her legs feel like the ligaments had been severed. It was all she could do to stay upright. Her lips clung to his, her tongue dancing and darting in intimate play, the erotic sensations travelling from her mouth to her core as if her entire network of nerves were on fire. Her heart raced with the sheer excitement of arousal. An arousal she had never felt like this before. Her whole body was tuned in to his every movement, every touch, every stroke or glide or pressure of his flesh against hers. His lips were firm and then achingly, disarmingly soft. His tongue spine-tinglingly bold and commanding. His hands moved from her face to hold her by the hips, his fingers firm and possessive and yet respectful. She didn’t feel rushed or pushed or shoved. She didn’t feel that this was all about him and less about her. This was a mutual exploration of need, a discovery tour of their chemistry—the chemistry that had snapped and crackled between them for years.

  He brought her closer to his body, hip-to-hip, arousal-to-arousal. The hard ridge of his erection making her inner core contract, the band of his chest against her breasts making her feel more feminine than she had ever felt before. Their bodies seemed to fit together like a complicated puzzle, no awkward pieces or edges left over.

  Izzy slid her hands up from his chest to tangle her fingers in his hair, tugging and releasing the thick dark strands, her mouth still fused to the magical pressure of his. His hands moved from her hips to skate up the sides of her body to settle just below her breasts. To feel them there, so close and yet not touching where she longed to be touched, was an exquisite torture. She made a whimpering sound and he moved his right hand to gently cup her breast, his thumb moving over the pointed tip of her nipple that, even through her clothes, made her snatch in a sharp breath of delight. His other hand slipped beneath her top and glided along her bare skin, the graze of his masculine fingers making her stomach free-fall. He unhooked her bra and took her breasts into his hands, cradling them, caressing them, worshipping them. He bent his head to her right breast, his tongue sending a slow lick across the upper curve before encircling her areola, leaving the nub of her nipple until last. The moist lave of his tongue made the hairs on her scalp stand up and stretch and twirl like thousands of tiny music box ballerinas. She was breathless with desire, the excitement building like a tumultuous storm inside her body.

  Andrea moved to her other breast, exploring it in the same intimate detail, leaving her senses spinning with every stroke and lick of his tongue an
d every nudge and nibble and suckle of his lips.

  Every time he caressed her another stitch came undone in her chest—the tight stitches she’d placed around her carefully guarded heart.

  He led her to the bed, bringing her down with him, his mouth coming back to hers in a long drugging kiss that made her wonder why she had resisted him for so long. How could she have denied herself this magic? The thrill of his touch. The excitement of being in his arms. The dizzying pleasure she could feel building in her body, triggered by him and only him.

  Andrea pushed back her hair from her face to look down into her eyes. ‘Still sure about this?’

  Izzy touched the stubble along his jaw, her fingers catching like silk on sandpaper. ‘I’m sure.’

  He planted another soft kiss to her lips, then moved his mouth in a hot trail of fire down her neck and to her décolletage. His tongue traced over each curve of her breasts, his mouth closing over each nipple in turn in a gentle suckle that made her back arch off the bed. He moved his hand down the flank of her thigh, peeling away her clothes to leave smouldering kisses in their wake. Every movement of his was slow and languorous, not rushed and threatening in any way.

  Izzy worked on his shirt buttons, uncovering the muscled planes of his chest and trailing her fingers through the dusting of hair sprinkled across his chest and abdomen, arrowing down to a V to disappear below the waistband of his trousers. He drew in a breath when her fingers brushed against his taut lower abdomen and, with a boldness she would not have thought possible even hours ago, she brushed her fingers over the tented fabric of his trousers.