Seduced by the Italian

by Fraser, Diana

  “She loves you! Just like we do.” Allegra flung her arms around Isabella’s legs. “But you’re going now aren’t you? I wish you weren’t.”

  With one hand holding the wriggling, still licking puppy firmly, Isabella cupped the back of Allegra’s head as she pressed against her hip. “So do I, Allegra, but I must.”

  “Why? Don’t you love us?”

  Isabella set the puppy down on the ground. “Yes, I do. I love you and your father very much, but sometimes that’s not enough.”

  “It should be.” Isabella jumped at Luca’s voice so close behind her. She hadn’t known he’d walked over to them. The dog had absorbed all her attention.

  “Luca…”

  “Allegra, take the puppy into the kitchen and get it some water. It’s hot out here, it’ll be thirsty.”

  “Sure, Papa.” And Allegra and the other kids ran round the pool and into the shady castello.

  “I thought I must have imagined the change in your smile earlier. But you’ve just done it again. I’ve only seen a smile like that once before.”

  Isabella was confused and shook her head. “Where? What are you talking about?”

  Luca smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I need to tell you that you can’t go yet. There’s something we need to discuss—something about the castello. There’s a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  “But, the taxi…” Then she turned and saw the taxi driver being given a large lemonade.

  “I’ve told him to wait. Come on.”

  What the hell was he talking about? A smile? A problem?

  Isabella followed Luca into the castello wondering if he’d been out in the sun too long or if there really was a problem she’d not been told about. Either scenario made her anxious. When he stopped in the hallway, now filled with the scent of freshly picked flowers and beeswax, she studied his face for clues. It wasn’t reassuring. His lips were quirked in a grin he didn’t seem to be able to contain and his eyes darted restlessly around the hall. Then he appeared to make a decision and strode over to the main reception room. “I think we need to be in here.”

  She shrugged, completely bewildered, followed him into the room and looked around. It wasn’t exactly as she’d planned but that was most definitely not her responsibility. The sunlight swept across the shining parquet floor from huge windows that overlooked the valley. Above them, the crystal chandelier sparkled and bounced a rainbow of colors over the newly cleaned stonework. In one corner she’d installed a subtle, comfortable arrangement of settees but, on the other side was a games area, including a full-size table-tennis table, she most definitely hadn’t planned for. Isabella raised her eyebrows, bent down and picked up a bat that had dropped to the floor. She placed it carefully onto the table.

  “Not exactly as I’d imagined it.”

  “No. Nor me.”

  “Well you added the table-tennis table. It doesn’t exactly help the ambience.”

  She swung round to face him. His eyes searched hers as if looking for answers to a question she didn’t know had been asked. She turned away abruptly, confused. She walked over to the window and threw it open, allowing a cooling breeze and the sound of the river into the room.

  “Still seeking the soothing sound of the river? What will you do when you’re away?”

  She blinked. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it. But he was right. She’d miss the sound of the water, flowing gently some times, raging at others, but always there, always soothing. “It’s just habit. I’ll miss the sound, I’ll miss many things but I’ll get by.”

  “What other things will you miss?”

  “The castello, Allegra, you…”

  “Me?”

  She jumped at the proximity of his voice. She swallowed but didn’t turn around.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You told Allegra you loved me. Did you mean what you said?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I love you too.”

  “Not enough to be faithful though.”

  “I had no-one to be faithful to. You made sure of that.” He sighed heavily and went to turn away.

  Panic suddenly filled her. She touched his arm briefly and his hand went to the place she’d touched as if she’d burned him. “Luca, I know—”

  “And if you can’t see that what I did—while it might not have been the right thing to have done—was not about us at all but about my own inadequacies then…” He shook his head. “What did you say?”

  “I know. I’ve gone over and over what happened. I’d thought the separation was temporary; you thought it permanent. What your father did to you made it too easy for you to believe I didn’t love you enough.”

  He exhaled deeply and his shoulders relaxed with the release of tension. “Isabella, my only crime was to have been young and stupid and needing love more than anything in the world. It was never not loving you. That, I’ve always done—whether I’ve known it or not. We all make mistakes. I’m not the only one who has. Why can’t you trust me?”

  He held his mouth a kiss away from hers, his breath was hot against hers as she reached out for his hands.

  “I’ve been trying to tell you, Luca. I do trust you. I was just so angry with you, so hurt, so upset. But, over the past few weeks, Luca, I’ve been thinking. I’ve changed so much, since you’ve come back into my life. Talking to you about the past, being with you, making love to you, it’s made me strong in ways you can’t imagine.”

  “Go on.” He gripped her hands tightly.

  “I do trust you. I always have. I trusted you the moment I first met you. Because of what happened, I—”

  “Don’t talk about that—”

  “I just want to say that I was scared of men but when I met you I trusted you instinctively. And I was right. You’ve always been loving and kind. What you did, well, I understand. Of course I do. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt, because it does. But, more than that, I’m scared. I said I loved you but I don’t know if I can love, if I can feel, like you do.”

  “There’s only one way to find out. Stay with me. Be with me. Love me.”

  She shook her head. “Just imagine if I do stay and find there really is nothing inside me. You deserve more than the empty shell that’s in here.” She tapped her heart.

  “I’ve learned to shake away my fears by not listening to them, not owning them, they’ve gone now when I look. They’re not there. You should try it.”

  She began to shake her head in confusion but his hands reached out and held her head firm; his thumbs swept across her cheeks as if brushing away shadows.

  “Just think how much you’ve changed in the last month. Just think how much further you can leave your past behind in a future we can share together. There’s never any guarantees; all we can do is try.” He kissed her gently and she knew she didn’t stand a chance. “Stay?”

  She nodded, her heart too full to speak. He kissed her again, except this time with a savage assurance that made all the doubts, all her own lingering insecurities and fears diminish beside the overwhelming love they shared.

  Suddenly they were aware of shouts and the clawing sound of a puppy trying to change direction on a shiny parquet floor. Isabella winced at the sound and Luca pulled away. She turned and groaned at the sight of the scratch marks on the floor and the rumpled rug where the dog had finally gained traction.

  “Papa, Isabella! What you are doing in here? There’s a man outside who says he needs to leave. He sent me in to find you.”

  Luca turned to Isabella. “Well, Isabella?” He brought Isabella’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

  Allegra looked from one to the other. “Papa, you’ve that look in your eye. Like you have when you look at me.” She turned to Isabella and, with a mischievous grin, echoed her father’s tone and words, even if she didn’t understand his full meaning. “Well, Isabella?”

  Isabella laughed as she tried, without success, to stop the tears from falling. She
looked away and brushed her eyes so she could see more clearly before turning back to them both. “Perhaps, Allegra, you could tell the cab driver I won’t be needing him after all.”

  Allegra jumped and shot her fist into the air. “Yes!” She turned to Luca and exchanged a high five. “Result, Papa!”

  Luca looked over Allegra’s head at Isabella and gave her a look of such love that she knew she’d risk facing her worst fears to spend the rest of her life with someone she loved so much, someone she could see who loved her equally in return. She also knew that withstanding the seductive charms of one Vittori was difficult enough, but standing firm against two was completely impossible. “Result, Allegra!”

  Epilogue

  “Allegra! Bring the boys here!”

  Isabella grinned as Gianni, so obedient to his beloved elder sister, immediately dropped the handful of river mud he was about to fling at Antonino and Antonino took advantage of his lapse in attention and hefted a handful of mud straight at Gianni’s face.

  The grin turned into laughter as she watched Allegra carefully remove the mud and then turn swiftly and land a handful of mud on Antonino who fell backwards into the shallow water laughing.

  “You should be disciplining those boys, not laughing, Signora Vittori!” Luca’s hands slid around her shoulders before he kissed her on the cheek.

  “I don’t need to with Allegra here. Gianni does everything she tells him and Allegra can sort out Antonino with a taste of his own medicine.”

  “The boys are so different, despite the same upbringing.”

  “I guess genes play a bigger part than I imagined. Different parents but we’re lucky—both are wonderful, in different ways.”

  Luca took some bread from the picnic spread before them. It was cooler under the shelter of the trees and, as he closed his eyes, Isabella felt her throat constrict with happiness. “Tired?”

  He flicked one eye open quizzically. “Not as tired as you must be, up most of the night with Dorotea.”

  Isabella looked down at the tiny baby, the result of many operations, now fast asleep, nestled close to her breast. “I think she’s nocturnal, sleeps all day and up all night. Definitely genetic—takes after her father.”

  “Umm,” Luca stroked her bare ankle, “her mother has also been known to stay awake all night making demands.”

  The reminder of their lovemaking sent a shiver of longing through her body, setting it alight with desire, before the flame curled around and settled in her heart. Isabella took a deep breath, savoring the happiness that had proved elusive for so many years. “I feel as if I’ve been so long asleep that I want to experience every moment now.”

  His grip tightened around her ankle, his eyes still closed, as he lay back under the dappled light. Despite the lack of sleep, he didn’t look tired.

  “It’s lucky for you that I’m prepared to assist you in this exploration of experience.” He sat up and leaned over and kissed her on the lips, his mouth lingering close to hers as his eyes searched her face. “If there are any experiences that you wish to have, just let me know. I’m prepared to do whatever I can to assist.”

  “Then kiss me again.”

  Suddenly running feet and muddy hands descended on them: the boys grabbed handfuls of food and flung themselves onto the picnic rug while Allegra stood bossily over them all, muddy hands on wet shorts.

  “Papa, stop kissing Isabella! You’ll wake the baby.”

  “Allegra, you look like a vagabond!”

  Allegra looked down at her muddy and wet shorts and shirt and then back at him, an impish grin on her face. She jumped on top of him and gave him a big hug, soaking him with the cold river water. But one look at his mock-stern face and she leaped off, laughing, and ran to the river, with Luca hard on her heels.

  The boys settled around Isabella, one stroking little Dorotea’s dark downy hair and the other resting his head on Isabella’s lap.

  Isabella closed her eyes and listened to the shouts of laughter from Allegra and Luca, the tumbling of the water across the rocks and the birdsong overhead. Her fingers spread out searching for something and then rested when she found it.

  The wildflowers, with their woody stems that clung to the rocks and crevices around the river, so tenacious, so intent on life, so reminiscent of Luca’s grandmother. A strong woman could leave a legacy beyond death. Nonna had. And so would she.

  The End

  —Italian Lovers—

  The Italian’s Perfect Lover

  The Passionate Italian

  ***

  The Italian’s Perfect Lover

  Falling for the perfectly handsome Alessandro Cavour, Count di Montecorvio Rovella, is the last thing archaeologist Emily Carlyle needs as she recovers from the physical and emotional scars inflicted by an ex-boyfriend. But she can't avoid him when she finds out he now owns the estate where she's discovered an ancient Roman site.

  Restoring one particular mosaic on the site has become an obsession with Emily—one which Alessandro can't understand. He has no interest in digging up the past because, despite appearances, he bears his own scars. Consumed by guilt over the death of his wife and son, commitment-shy Alessandro lives only for the pleasures of the present. But he hadn’t reckoned on falling in love. And love, he discovers, forces difficult choices...

  Praise for The Italian’s Perfect Lover

  “Dark, Dramatic and Dynamite! I read this book in one day—it was an emotional and compelling read and completely impossible to put down.” (Amazon)

  “Hooked me from the start! The chemistry was intense...loved it.” (Goodreads)

  Excerpt:

  Alessandro Cavour, Conte di Montecorvio Rovella, watched as the voluptuous blonde, who had just gate-crashed his party, popped a third piece of bruschetta into her mouth.

  If she was trying to fit in she was going the wrong way about it. Women in his world barely ate; they wore only black—not a blood-red sheath—and curves were not an option.

  “Shall I have her removed, sir?”

  Alessandro shook his head and drank the last of his whisky, relishing its fire. He needed fire. He needed a diversion. And he’d just found one.

  “No. Leave her to me.”

  Where was he?

  Emily Carlyle brushed the crumbs from her dress and anxiously scanned the room for the elderly count upon whom all her hopes were pinned.

  She needed to mingle. God, how did she do that?

  She needed to fit in. And she certainly didn’t do that.

  Her hand rose to push her glasses more firmly on her nose before she remembered she’d left them off tonight. Not, she thought, peering around the room, that there had been any point.

  She was surrounded by the cream of Neopolitan society: moneyed, elegant, perfect. And she was none of these things. And never would be.

  She tugged the wrap more securely around her shoulders. She might not be ashamed of her imperfections but there was no reason to display them—not tonight—not when so much was riding on it.

  Where the hell was he?

  Suddenly she felt a chill of awareness slither down her spine: someone was watching her. She turned slowly to see a man—blurred a little at first—moving through the crowded room towards her, staring directly at her. When he came into focus she could see his coal-black eyes held both heat and cool control: predator’s eyes.

  Her heart pounded once, fiercely, before settling into a fast tattoo that sent adrenalin racing through her veins, stimulating her body into a state of readiness. Fight or flight? At that instant, she could do neither.

  Then the crowd parted and the man emerged and stood before her. There was nothing about his appearance that contradicted her first instinct. A predator took whatever he wanted and she knew this man could do just that. It wasn’t just that he was the most striking man she’d ever seen; it wasn’t simply that he was the most charismatic—although conversations had stalled in his wake and all eyes were on him; it was his difference to the others that signa
led his power.

  In a room of immaculately dressed people, this man stood before her disheveled and arrogant. His black tie hung loosely either side of his open shirt and his hair—raked back as if by careless fingers—hung in tactile curls on his collar. He either didn’t notice he was flouting convention or he didn’t care. She’d bet her life it was the latter.

  This was a man who was used to getting his own way; this was a man who didn’t want to be here.

  There, they had something in common.

  ***

  The Passionate Italian

  Passion wasn’t high on Rose’s agenda growing up in poverty: survival was, independence was, but not the crazy, elemental passion that she’d found with Giovanni Visconti. But, after a year together, the passion had twisted into jealousy and control and Rose had disappeared—seemingly unable to deal with her husband’s passionate nature.

  But, two years later, Giovanni tracks Rose down. He’s discovered something that makes him realize that there was more to Rose’s departure than he’d first thought, and he’s determined to control his jealous passions in order to prove to his wife that she can trust him. But Rose is keeping secrets from him—secrets with the potential to destroy more than just their relationship…