Married By Christmas Bundle: Anthology

by Carol Marinelli

  But Alessandro was too fast and caught her easily, bringing her back beneath him and holding her firm between powerful thighs that seemed banded with steel. And now all that lay between them was a tiny white lace thong.

  He had brought her to a highly aroused state, and Emily knew that it pleased him to see her so eager for his possession. Coaxing her thighs apart, he encouraged her to lift them for him, his amber eyes glittering with satisfaction as he used one hand to secure her arms above her head and the other to trace with a tantalisingly light touch the damp contours of the swell between her legs. She felt as if her whole being was concentrated in that one small area, as if every sensation she had ever experienced was magnified and centred there. Long, shuddering sighs told him how good it was, that it was the most intense sensation she had ever experienced, while Alessandro’s murmurs to her in his own foreign tongue encouraged and enticed her all the more as he trailed his fingertips across the pouting site of her arousal.

  When he tugged the thong off and she lay naked beneath him, wanting him so badly, there was a part of Emily that still held back at the thought of what such a powerful man might do to her. But even now Alessandro could sense her fear, and his hands were skilful and persuasive, making her forget everything but her desire for him. And when he dipped his fingertips between her wet swollen lips, the last of her doubts was erased by an intensity of sensation she could never have imagined. Crying out shamelessly, she begged him to take her then, but he refused to be hurried, only tempted her with the tip of his erection, pulling back just before she had a chance to draw him inside her. And then, releasing her hands, he gave her absolute freedom to decide the pace.

  But once he was inside her Alessandro reclaimed control, increasing the pressure to fill her completely, stretching her beyond anything she could ever have imagined, until pleasure blanked out every thought but her craving for fulfillment. Holding her firm, he murmured reassurances, repeating her name when her sobbing cries marked the onset of the powerful spasms he had set up with such care.

  Could anything ravish his senses more than this? Alessandro wondered, as he savoured the sight of Emily bucking beneath him.

  Only one thing, perhaps, he realised as he plundered the moist, hidden depths of her mouth to taste her sweetness—and that would be the sight of his beautiful wife holding their child at the moment of its birth.

  ‘I don’t know if I like them,’ Emily protested as Alessandro held out a linen cloth sagging with the weight of warm green figs plucked straight from the tree.

  He made a sound of encouragement as he gave his collection a little shake. ‘But ripe figs don’t travel well,’ he insisted. ‘I promise you, Emily, you have never tasted anything like this before.’

  It was so hard to resist him…No, impossible, Emily realised as she gazed up into golden eyes whose beloved intensity had become so familiar to her over the past few days at Monte Volere. Did they only burn with fire like that when he looked at her? she wondered, smiling up at him as she picked out one of the plump ripe fruits and raised it to her lips. Even that innocent gesture seemed redolent with meaning now. She heard herself sigh, felt her body quiver with awareness…anticipation. She seemed to be in a permanent state of arousal…

  After taking her to his bed in the homely old manor house Alessandro had introduced her to physical love in a way that made her want him all the time…every moment of every day, waking and even sleeping…so that she reached for him unknowing in the middle of the night, and then woke to find him making love to her again.

  ‘Well?’ he demanded softly as she sank her teeth into it.

  Savouring the mouthful of intense, perfumed sweetness, Emily made a sound of contentment deep in her throat. ‘It’s the second best thing I ever put in my mouth,’ she admitted, flashing him a glance.

  Alessandro threw his head back and gave a short, virile laugh. ‘Wait until you taste the wine from my vineyards,’ he murmured provocatively. ‘There are several contenders that should be considered before you make your mind up.’

  ‘I won’t change my mind,’ Emily promised, slanting him a look as she linked her arm through his, relishing his strength and his body warmth through their light, summer-weight clothes.

  ‘Ah, but my wine contains the essence of life,’ Alessandro declared, laughing at her puzzled expression. ‘You’ll see what I mean when you drink it.’

  He wasn’t joking, Emily realised later, as she watched him select a bottle from the rack. She was even more surprised to see him moving about the well-equipped kitchen with a familiarity that suggested he was accustomed to fending for himself.

  ‘Who taught you all this?’ she demanded softly, linking her arms loosely around his waist as he whipped up an omelette. Leaning her face against his strong, muscular back, she inhaled his warm musky male scent…Being with him like this felt so wonderful…so right.

  ‘Maria Felsina,’ he said, reaching for the olive oil. ‘Before she became a most sought-after dressmaker, specialising in traditional clothes, she lived with our family. She was the one who greeted me when I returned home from school for the holidays—from university, too. We spent more time together here at Monte Volere than at the palace. This is the one place where I can relax and be myself.’

  ‘I can see that,’ Emily agreed. ‘Even at the grape-treading I noticed the way the people accepted you as one of them.’

  ‘I am one of them,’ Alessandro said simply. ‘We all call Ferara home.’

  ‘Did you see much of your parents when you were a child?’

  ‘My parents were swept up in their duties at Court—’

  ‘I hope you will find time for your own children—’ Emily stopped, aghast, wondering how such words could shoot out of her mouth having made no connection first with her brain. She had no plans to have children, and was quite sure that Alessandro felt the same. Her cheeks were still on fire when he turned to look at her, and there was an expression on his face that seemed to confirm it would have been better to keep her opinions to herself. ‘That is, when you have children eventually yourself—some time in the future,’ she said, stumbling over the words.

  The look of bewilderment, of sheer panic, on his wife’s face pierced Alessandro’s heart. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Emily,’ he insisted, sweeping her into his arms. ‘You’ve said nothing wrong.’ Dipping his head, he stared deep into her eyes to assure her, ‘I plan to have lots of children with the woman I love—and sooner rather than later.’

  Alessandro forced back the urge to tell Emily about the final requirement before his father could retire. His desire had never been stronger, he realised as he pressed her to him. But now was not the time. Their love was little more than a tender shoot, and she was at her most vulnerable. He didn’t know how she would react when he told her, and crucial business meetings were about to take him away. When he told her, he wanted the time to be right…He had to be there, to reassure her…

  ‘Alessandro?’ Pressing him away from her, Emily stood back. Did his silence mean some woman had been found for him…some woman who would bear his children…a fitting partner to rule Ferara alongside him?

  ‘I wish I didn’t have to go away,’ he said tensely. ‘But as you will discover, Emily, with great privilege comes great responsibility. You know I wouldn’t think of leaving you unless there was absolutely no alternative.’

  Did she? Emily wondered, staring up at him. But then he dragged her back into his arms, as if he couldn’t bear to watch the doubts scudding across her face.

  ‘Stop this, Emily!’ he told her fiercely. ‘When I am a father I will be with my children; I will take equal part in their upbringing and I will spend as much time with them as any father, possibly more.’

  ‘I believe you—’

  ‘That’s better,’ he said, tipping the creamy egg mix into the pan. ‘I cannot bear to see you upset. You’ll feel better when you eat.’

  If only it was that easy, Emily thought as she poured out two glasses of wine whil
e Alessandro slid a delicious looking golden omelette onto a plate and dressed it with salad for her.

  ‘You must promise me that you will stop worrying,’ he insisted, nodding towards the table. ‘I don’t want to come home to a waif who has pined away. Haven’t I told you, cara mia? Everything’s going to be all right. My wife will take an equal part in everything I do.’ He stopped in the act of pouring his own egg mix into the pan. ‘What’s wrong, Emily?’

  Fork suspended, Emily could only stare at him. The idea of some other, unknown woman sitting so close to Alessandro, living with him…bearing his children…was insupportable.

  ‘I promise you,’ Alessandro said steadily, bringing his own food across to the table, ‘we will share everything, and that’s a promise.’

  ‘Good,’ Emily said, swallowing a huge mouthful of food, effectively staunching her end of the conversation. She tried not to choke on it as she considered the possibility that negotiations between Ferara and Alessandro’s bride-to-be might be going on right at this very moment—even as they ate.

  When was she ever going to accept that as soon as their contract came to an end Alessandro would want a proper marriage?

  No time soon, she realised as they chinked glasses. But it was too late for regrets. She couldn’t turn the clock back, and the truth was she was in love with her husband—deeply, passionately and ultimately, though she wished desperately it could be otherwise, hopelessly.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IT SEEMED no time at all since they had driven beneath the stone archway that marked the entrance to the Monte Volere estates to share their magical time, and now they were back in the Feraran capital, faced with reality. Even though Alessandro had reassured her about their impending separation, Emily felt as if her worst fears were taking on a darker, clearer shape. Alessandro had assured her that their parting would be for a couple of weeks at most. So why did she feel so sure it would be longer…?

  This morning he would leave. The time for his departure had come around before she’d even had time to complete her move into his apartment at the palace, let alone discuss the worries that were now occupying her mind every waking moment. The little she had managed to glean about his trip left her in no doubt that it would be arduous, maybe even dangerous, and the last thing she wanted was to burden him with personal concerns…

  Dressed casually for what she knew would be a rushed farewell, she waited in her old apartment, surrounded by all the chaos associated with her move. Pottering about aimlessly, she tried to concentrate on practical matters, picking up one thing, and then another, and switching their positions haphazardly in between glancing at her wristwatch as she counted down the minutes to his departure and wondered how much time they would have left together. Alessandro was already overrunning his schedule, and at the palace his daily life ran to a remorseless timetable.

  ‘Emily, I’m so sorry.’

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when he breezed into the room, but he came straight over to her and, seizing both of her hands in his, raised them to his lips.

  ‘Forgive me, cara sposa—’

  ‘Matters of State?’ Emily teased softly, forcing a smile through the foretaste of loneliness that was already stealing into her mind. The last thing she wanted was to worry Alessandro in the last few moments they had together. She needed to know that he was oblivious to the undercurrents chipping away at her happiness, and felt a rush of relief when he grinned back at her.

  ‘How I hate these distractions,’ he murmured, tugging her towards him.

  ‘What? Me?’ Emily demanded fondly, staring into his eyes.

  ‘Everything but you,’ he growled softly. Pulling her over to the sofa, he insisted she sit down.

  ‘You’ll be late,’ Emily reminded him, glancing at the delicate ormolu clock on her mantelpiece.

  ‘So I’ll be late for once. It’s not something I make a habit of.’ He paused and looked down at her, his dark golden gaze direct and full of warmth. ‘But this is special.’

  ‘What is?’ Emily said curiously.

  ‘You,’ he said wryly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. ‘For you I would make the whole world stand in line and wait, because I love you. I love you more than life itself, Emily. Forgive me for leaving you, but know that, however much you miss me, I shall miss you more.’

  Tentatively Emily traced the line of Alessandro’s claret-coloured silk tie from the point where it secured the crisp white collar around her husband’s strong, tanned neck, down his toned torso to the slim black leather belt on his midnight-blue suit.

  ‘And I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love anyone,’ she whispered. ‘I have never trusted anyone so completely in my life—with my life—you are my life.’

  Bringing her hands to his lips, Alessandro turned them and kissed each palm in turn. ‘For ever, Emily,’ he murmured, looking deep into her eyes. ‘And now…’ The corners of his mouth were starting to tug up in a grin. ‘I’ve got something for you.’

  Shifting emotional gears in tandem, Emily threw him an amused look. ‘A crown?’ she teased, remembering the last occasion on which he had said something similar.

  ‘Not a crown,’ he said with a wry shrug. ‘I could get one for you, but I thought you weren’t so keen on that type of thing.’

  She loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he grinned at her like that. ‘OK, so don’t keep me in suspense.’

  Reaching inside his jacket, Alessandro drew out a slim volume of poetry.’ Christopher Marlowe,’ he murmured softly as he pressed it into her hands. ‘Well, Emily, do you like it? Does it please you?’

  ‘It pleases me very much,’ Emily whispered as she traced the worn binding reverently with her fingertips. He couldn’t have brought her anything she would have liked more, she realised. ‘I love it,’ she whispered. ‘It’s the most beautiful…the most special thing I’ve ever been given.’

  ‘I was hoping you would say that,’ he said, cupping her chin to draw her forward for a tender kiss on the lips. ‘Because I want you to read a page every day while I am away, and then you will know how much I love you. And now—’

  ‘You must leave?’ Emily said, trying to be brave about it.

  ‘Soon,’ he agreed, putting his finger over her lips.

  She pulled away. ‘I’m sorry, Alessandro. I feel so—’

  ‘How?’ he demanded softly.’ Emily, speak to me.’

  ‘Once the terms of our contract are satisfied—’ She shook her head, unable to go on.

  ‘You can’t stop there,’ he warned.

  ‘Has a bride been found for you?’ She spoke so softly she couldn’t be sure at first that he had heard.

  ‘A bride has been found,’ Alessandro confirmed. ‘But I found her myself, and she is sitting here in front of me now.’

  ‘So, you really do love me?’

  Alessandro’s brows rose as he stared at her, and when he spoke again his voice had adopted the low, teasing tone she loved so much. ‘You guessed,’ he teased gently with a heavy sigh. ‘I guess that means my secret’s out.’

  As he brought her into his arms Emily felt safe again, as if her fears had been of her own conjuring—and all for nothing.

  ‘I love you,’ she murmured against his lips. ‘But I don’t know how I am going to live without you.’

  He put his finger over her lips and smiled into her eyes before replacing his finger with his lips. ‘You don’t have to live without me, mio tesoro,’ he said at last. ‘This will just be a very brief separation.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘I promise,’ he vowed softly, wrapping her fingers around the book of poems as he got to his feet. But at the door he stopped, and dragged her to him. ‘I’d take you with me, but—’

  ‘I’ll be fine. Go,’ she whispered fiercely, ‘before you change your mind.’

  ‘I have already changed my mind,’ Alessandro confessed, raking his fingers impatiently through his hair.

  ‘But you’r
e running late,’ Emily murmured without much conviction as he dragged her back into his arms.

  ‘One of the privileges of being a prince is that I set the agenda,’ he husked against her ear. ‘And I have just remembered something very important…something that cannot wait…’

  ‘Here?’ Emily breathed, feeling her heart pound against his chest as he pressed her back against the door.

  Miming that she should be quiet for a moment, Alessandro dug in his pocket for his mobile phone. ‘File a new flight plan,’ he ordered briefly when the call was connected. ‘I have been unavoidably delayed.’

  In the short time since Alessandro had been away, Emily had to admit that one of her greatest successes had been his father’s apartment. With his approval she had transformed it, relegating the angular, uncomfortable furniture to the areas of the palace she thought might eventually be opened to the public and replacing it with a selection of well-padded armchairs, cosy throws and rugs. A small kitchen had been created, and a supply of fresh fruit, cakes and other delicacies were ordered to be delivered on a daily basis.

  ‘You’ve done too much for me already,’ he protested one day, while Emily was balanced on the top of a pair of stepladders, fixing some dried autumnal arrangements to the wall.

  Turning quickly to reply, she paused and put a hand to her forehead. She never usually felt dizzy…

  ‘Why don’t we call one of the servants to do that for you?’ he suggested.

  Hearing the anxiety in his voice, Emily hurried to reassure him, realising he had been on his feet helping her for most of the morning. ‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Are you getting tired?’

  ‘No, it’s you I’m thinking about,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you come down from there? You look pale.’

  ‘Don’t worry about…’As her voice faded Emily blinked her eyes several times, fighting for equilibrium. She had never fainted in her life before, or been sick, but all at once it felt as if she was going to do both.