He rested her on the bed, and she turned to him and said softy, ‘I love you, Lorenzo Cicolla. I never stopped. Even when we argued bitterly, I still loved you. Nothing could kill that. Jeremy might have thought that by marrying me he had destroyed what we had, but he was wrong. He could never touch me, not deep inside where it counts.’
‘He was unstable,’ Lorenzo murmured, shrugging out of his shirt to expose his bronzed torso. He lay down beside her on his side and ran his hand along her, outlining the smooth contours of her body. ‘Even before all that business happened, before he found out about his mother, there was something reckless about him. He was always like a keg of gunpowder waiting to explode.’
He unzipped her dress and she wriggled out of it, smiling slightly as he watched her, fascinated, as if he were seeing her for the first time.
When he touched her breast she lay back flat on the bed, her breathing coming and going quickly, as if she had run a marathon.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘The worst thing was that I understood why he wanted you so desperately. You provoke some dark, masculine instinct to be put under lock and key.’
‘I hope not!’ She laughed. Was she really that beautiful? She would have to look hard at herself the next time she found herself in front of a mirror.
‘No, that would be a crime, wouldn’t it?’ He kissed her neck, then moved down her body, kissing every inch of her, exploring her with exquisite thoroughness.
She writhed as he caressed her stomach with his lips before nuzzling the soft mound of her femininity.
There was no anger, no resentment, no feeling of being in the unwilling grip of a passion too strong to control, much as you wanted to control it.
This was like the tenderness they had shared when they were younger, before life had begun to take its toll, except that this time there was a maturity about them that had been missing then.
She reached down and curled her fingers in his hair, parting her legs and opening her body to his eager exploration.
She sighed with contentment as he moved back up to lick her full breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth and teasing it until she wanted to scream.
When he finally came into her it was like being at home, where she belonged. Her body jerked against him, building to a crescendo, and her thought processes shut down as sensation took over.
‘And now,’ he said later, leaning on his elbow to look at her, ‘that we’re alone together, and there aren’t hundreds of people watching, will you marry me, my darling Isobel? For all the right reasons?’
‘Will I marry you?’ She laughed and stroked his cheek. ‘Yes. Yes, I will marry you. I’ve been waiting half my life for this moment, my love!’
And this time, she thought much later, as their lovemaking carried them through the night, who knew? There might even be a baby on the way.
EPILOGUE
ISOBEL looked at the suitcase in front of her. She would never have thought that she could look at Jeremy’s possessions so calmly, so contentedly, without bitterness, but she could. Lorenzo had done that, she knew. Seven months ago they had married, a quiet affair involving only relatives and a few close friends. It had been the happiest day of her life and she had made sure that she had not worn white.
She smiled and began packing the last of the clothes, which she had only now got around to doing.
Where had the time gone? She knew, of course—redecorating their cottage together, making up for lost time.
She was about to close the suitcase when she felt something hard at the bottom of it, inside a zipped pocket. Curiously, she pulled out a notebook and began to read.
Her father’s notebook, full of his usual jottings. It only took fifteen minutes and at the end of it she sat back on her heels and smiled. Somewhere, deep down, she had known that he would never have embezzled that money. Maybe it had crossed his mind, idle notes that had changed her life, but here, in this notebook, was the rest of the story. The bank loan, the figures carefully worked out, money which had never been stolen.
Jeremy had kept it all hidden. He had chosen to show her only enough to guarantee her co-operation.
Quietly she closed the suitcase, and stood it in the corner of the room. In the morning the last bits and pieces would be disposed of to a charity shop, in preparation for the young couple moving in over the weekend.
Then she went across to the window and looked out, still smiling, still holding that notebook.
Lorenzo would smile too when he read all this. He wouldn’t fly off the handle. Marriage, he was fond of telling her in a semi-grumbling voice, had tamed the tiger, had domesticated him.
And, of course, something else too.
She patted her stomach contentedly and decided that she hadn’t tamed him, not nearly as much as the tiny baby inside her.
ISBN: 9781408987582
Vengeful Seduction
© Cathy Williams 1995
First Published in Great Britain in 1995
Harlequin (UK) Limited
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