The Wedding Night Debt: Christmas at the Castello (bonus novella)

by Cathy Williams

  It baffled her but she was helpless to do anything about it.

  ‘Shall we go in?’ She changed the conversation, wondering whether she should play the sexy kitten he expected. ‘I’m dying to see what the villa looks like and I feel rather hot and tired.’

  ‘I’ll lead the way.’

  Inside was as exquisite as the outside. Wooden floors, soft muslin blowing gently in the breeze through open windows, with pale shutters keeping out the blast of the hot sun, bamboo furniture and a short staircase leading to spacious bedrooms and bathrooms on the landing above the ground floor.

  He had had someone come in and make sure the place was ready for immediate occupation, although he had done away with having staff on the grounds while they were here. There was a little Jeep, if they wanted to go into the town or to explore other beaches, and enough food and wine to see them through.

  It was paradise for the extremely wealthy and she should have taken it in her stride, for she was well accustomed to the palatial splendour of his other properties, but she was still knocked for six as they did a quick tour of the villa.

  There was nothing she didn’t adore about it, from the furnishings and the feeling of space and light to the magnificent views and the distant sound of the sea.

  They bypassed four huge bedrooms and finally she was standing in the room they would be sharing.

  The smiling man who had brought them from the airport had deposited her and Dio’s scant luggage on the king-sized four-poster bed and it suddenly hit her...

  This was their honeymoon. The honeymoon that had never been. She was with her husband and, even though their union had been a cruel joke, she couldn’t stop the piercing thrill that filled her when she turned to look at his darkly sexy face.

  The windows in the bedroom were sprawled open and she strolled to stare out, breathing in the wonderful balmy air and enjoying the way the breeze lifted her hair from her face.

  ‘Are you going to survive for ten whole days without staff waiting at your beck and call?’ she asked, eyeing him, and then nearly subsiding into a frantic, nervous coughing fit as he began to unbutton his shirt, exposing a sliver of hard, brown chest.

  ‘It’s a sacrifice I’m prepared to make because I don’t want to have anyone around while we’re both here.’ He slanted just the sort of wicked smile at her that sent her senses shooting off into la la land. ‘Come.’

  Lucy walked slowly towards him and fell into his arms. His scent filled her nostrils with the punch of a powerful aphrodisiac. She almost lost it and groaned.

  It didn’t matter how many times her head was telling her that this was a pretend honeymoon; right here and right now, it felt real.

  She wanted this man as though there had been no muddy water under the bridge.

  Dio tilted her chin and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss; their tongues meshed and explored each other’s mouths.

  Lucy clung.

  ‘You must be baking hot in this get-up,’ he murmured.

  Lucy thought that she was damned hot now and it had nothing to do with the temperature. In fact, the outfit was pretty cool, even though her body was on fire.

  ‘I think we need to bath you...’

  ‘We’re going to shower...together?’

  Dio laughed with open delight and led her to an amazing wet room in different shades of sand and tan marble. ‘Now,’ he said briskly. ‘Clothes off.’

  There was furniture in the bathroom. He proceeded to sit on a clean, lined wicker sofa, legs indolently crossed, half-naked and all rippling muscle and sinew.

  This felt very different from the safety of a darkened room.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Stage fright.’

  Dio threw his head back and laughed, a full-bodied laugh rich with genuine amusement.

  ‘My virgin bride,’ he murmured, his silver-grey eyes roaming appreciatively over her fully clad body. ‘How about if I break the ice for you?’ In one easy movement, he stood up and undressed, and Lucy watched, fascinated by his utter lack of self-consciousness.

  ‘You make me feel so gauche,’ she said nervously as he walked towards her, all powerful, all aroused and all one hundred percent alpha male.

  ‘Touch me.’

  Lucy took his heavy shaft between her slender fingers and a ripple of anticipation almost knocked her sideways. Her breathing quickened and her pupils dilated darkly as she played with him, enjoying the power she felt as he moved in her hand.

  He controlled his surging response.

  He was realising that he couldn’t get within a metre of her without his body going crazy. Maybe it was just the natural after effect of all those months of keeping his distance. He should have handled this situation a hell of a lot sooner, but why go down that road? The fact was that they were here now and he intended to waste no time in exploring every single way he could discover his wife’s sexy body.

  The fact that she was so innocent was an unbelievable turn on.

  ‘If you’re self-conscious about doing a striptease for your husband...’ he said unsteadily, holding her hand firm, because any more of what she was doing and he would respond in the only way he knew how ‘...then allow me to perform the task myself...’

  Lucy succumbed. With every touch, she shed a little more of her inhibitions. This was what she had dreamed of when she had enthusiastically accepted his marriage proposal. Nothing had turned out quite the way she had expected, but she was determined to enjoy the physical pleasure he was offering her. Neither of them was looking for more than what was on the table.

  They showered under jets of water that felt like warm rainfall. Halfway through, he switched off the jets and explored every inch of her with his hand and his mouth while she stood with the water drying on her, back pressed against the cool tiles, eyes closed, savouring every sweet lick. When he brought his mouth against the damp mound of her femininity, she parted her legs and let his tongue drive her to such dizzy heights that she could no longer contain the scorching orgasm that just seemed to go on and on and on as he kept his mouth firmly pressed against her, tasting her as she came.

  The promised wardrobe was waiting for her when they finally made it out of the bathroom. Her body was singing.

  ‘So, I had some clothes brought here for you.’ Dio threw open the wardrobe doors and Lucy tentatively peered inside.

  One by one she went through the things before turning to him where he lay sprawled on the bed in nothing more than a pair of unbuttoned jeans. His hair was still damp from the shower.

  ‘But these aren’t what I’m normally accustomed to wearing.’

  Dio raised his eyebrows at her confused expression. ‘I didn’t think designer labels would be appropriate.’

  Lucy tentatively stuck on a pair of small, faded denim shorts and the cropped top which could have come straight out of a department store.

  These were the clothes she felt comfortable wearing and always had done. Even when she had been surrounded by money, growing up, designer labels had always made her feel like someone who had to be on show, the perfect doll which her father could parade in front of his chums to give an impression of the perfect family that had been far from the truth.

  On the many trips she had made back with her mother to Yorkshire, she had ditched the silk and cashmere and enjoyed the freedom of wearing what she wanted. She had escaped the cloying confines of a life she didn’t like and this was what it felt like now. A brief escape before she embarked on a whole different life. She was his wife and yet this felt like stolen time.

  She told herself that her husband was a guy who knew what he wanted just as he knew what made women tick.

  He wanted her and he was shrewd enough to work out that, yes, sophisticated London glamour would not set the scene for the sort of rapid-fi
re seduction he had in mind.

  But there was still a treacherous part of her that was willing to overlook the cynicism behind his choices.

  Not that he would have scoured department stores for the clothes himself. He would have told one of his minions what he wanted and that would have been the sum total of his contribution.

  It was good that her head was still working, she thought.

  ‘Nice,’ he commented approvingly. ‘I liked what I saw when I surprised you at that little club of yours and I like what I’m seeing now.’

  ‘I’m not a puppet and you’re not my puppet master.’ And wasn’t this just another form of him dressing her up for his own purposes?

  ‘Is that what you’ve thought of me during our marriage? That I’ve tried to control you?’ Dio’s pale eyes flicked over her flushed face.

  ‘Haven’t you?’

  ‘Most women would slice off their own right arm to be controlled by a man who gives them limitless spending money.’

  ‘Dio, I don’t want to argue with you about this. We’re not here to...to argue...’ They had never spoken as much during their marriage as they had done over the past couple of days and there had been times when Lucy had almost felt...seduced into telling him why she had pulled back from him the second the final guest had left on their wedding night. Whatever he thought of her and her father, she had wanted him to see her side of the story. She had had to remind herself that he had used her and that was the bottom line.

  He had wanted her father’s company, had been in a position to grab it for a knockdown price, and, even though he had certainly put right the wrongs her father had done financially, he had got her in exchange—the perfect hostess who could move seamlessly amongst his important clients, who actually knew some of them from times past.

  She suspected that, had they consummated their marriage, he would have tired of her sexually within weeks and would have set his sights on other women.

  Once, just once, she had done an Internet search on him to find out about the women in his past. There had been nothing aside from one photo taken from years and years ago of a curvy brunette clinging and laughing up at him as they emerged from a limo somewhere in New York. He had just signed a record-breaking deal.

  That single photo had been enough to tell her the sort of women he was drawn to. It gave credence to her father’s malicious taunt that Dio was little more than a jumped-up barrow boy who had made a few bucks and needed a suitable little woman to show off to the world that he’d come good.

  She had overheard enough on her wedding night to know, for herself, that he was no saint when it came to manipulating an advantage. She had heard the low, cold intent in his voice when he had told her father that he had his company, and he could personally ruin him, but instead he would have his daughter, so he could count his blessings...

  She hadn’t needed to hear any more.

  ‘No, we’re not,’ he told her softly. ‘So why don’t you come and sit here by me and show me why we’re here...?’

  ‘Do you ever think of anything but sex?’ But she relaxed a little, pleased to close the door on that uneasy conversation between them.

  ‘I’m finding it hard to in this particular situation,’ Dio drawled, watching with satisfaction as she strolled towards the bed, looked for a moment as though she intended to take a flying leap on to the mattress but then gracefully settled next to him, though sitting up with her legs crossed.

  ‘And, by the way, I don’t like you referring to my project in East London as some little club of mine...’ Lucy wondered where that had come from, considering she didn’t want contentious subjects to get in the way of this arrangement of theirs.

  ‘Following on from that, I’ve set things in motion to take care of all the finances there.’

  ‘I know and I should have thanked you.’ But she’d had too much on her mind: him. It made her cringe. ‘Mark phoned just before we left and told me. He was very excited and he’s waiting until I return so that we can break the news to the community together.’

  ‘Cosy.’ Dio frowned. Did she have a crush on the man, whatever she chose to tell him? ‘You didn’t mention that he called you.’

  ‘I forgot,’ Lucy told him honestly. ‘Besides...’ She lay down at a distance next to him until he pulled her against him and curved her so that they were facing one another, bodies pressed together.

  ‘Besides what...?’

  ‘Besides, there’s no law to prevent me from talking to Mark, especially as we work together.’

  ‘You can have however many cosy chats you want to have with him, and with anyone else for that matter, once you’re no longer my wife.’ Dio knew that he was overreacting. The man was a limp-wristed tree-hugger.

  Except that was probably just the sort of guy Lucy would be attracted to. In an ideal world.

  The thought got on his nerves and he found that he couldn’t let it go.

  ‘Who else comprises this little community of do-gooders?’ he asked and Lucy tugged herself free of him and lay back to stare at the ceiling.

  ‘Why do you have to be so condescending?’

  ‘I’m not being condescending. I’m expressing curiosity.’

  ‘I would have thought that you, of all people, would have sympathised with do-gooders who actually want to do something to help those who aren’t so lucky in life.’

  ‘Let’s not get into my background, Lucy.’

  ‘Why not?’ She looked at him, glaring. ‘You always feel free to get into mine.’ Not that he knew the first thing about what her background had really been about!

  ‘You’re avoiding my question. Who else works with you? How long have you known them? Did you approach these people or did they approach you, via some kind of mutual acquaintance?’ Dio heard the rampant possessiveness in his voice with distaste.

  Lucy was bewildered at the harshness of his voice. What, really and truly, did he care one way or another?

  ‘I approached them,’ she admitted. ‘I wanted to do more with my life than just be a hostess looking after your properties and mixing with other women who were married to similarly wealthy men. I wanted to use my brain and I saw an ad online so I applied. And there are a few of us who volunteer on a part-time basis. Mark is the key guy but there are... Well, do you want me to name them all?’

  ‘Like I said, I’m curious. Humour me.’

  With a sigh—because she couldn’t recall him ever being that curious about what she got up to when he wasn’t around and she saw his sudden burst of curiosity as just another controlling aspect of his personality—she listed the five other members of their team: three women, all much older than her, and two guys.

  ‘And, when the cat’s away, you socialise with these people?’

  ‘Off and on.’

  ‘Whilst concealing who you really are: no wedding ring in sight...’

  ‘I wanted to be taken seriously, Dio. If they knew... Well, if they knew that I was married to you, that I lived in the house I live in, chances are they would just write me off as some rich young girl playing at helping out. Why are we having this conversation?’

  Dio wasn’t entirely sure himself. He just knew that nothing she said was filling him with satisfaction. ‘So none of those guys know that you’re married.’

  ‘Not unless they’re physic.’

  ‘And what are they like?’ he asked with studied casualness.

  Lucy thought about Simon and Terence. ‘Really, really nice,’ she admitted. ‘They’re both full-time teachers and yet they still manage to find the time to come in whenever they can. They do at least three after-school classes a week. Simon teaches maths alongside me. Terry covers English and history. I can’t wait to break the news about what...what you’re going to do about injecting some cash into the organisation. They’ll be over the moon.’
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  ‘Indeed...’ Dio ran his hand along her smooth thigh and felt her quiver in immediate response. ‘And, when the delighted celebrations kick off, I think it’s only fitting that I attend as the wealthy benefactor...wouldn’t you agree?’

  Lucy shrugged and tried to imagine her husband mixing with the teachers and parents. She had a mental image of a lion being dumped into a litter of kittens.

  But of course he would want to see where his money was going. He wasn’t a complete idiot. He might have used that as a way of getting her where he wanted her, but he was shrewd enough not to write off the cash as money that could be blown.

  And yet, did she want him invading this very private part of her life? The part of her life that she had mentally linked to her bid for freedom?

  A sudden thought occurred to her and it was unsettling. Would he actually want to do much more than just throw money at the project? Would he want to oversee things? Would he still be a presence in her life, a dark, powerful, disturbing presence, even after they were divorced?

  ‘I don’t think we should talk about this,’ she murmured, reaching down to hold him, feeling a surge of power at being able to distract him simply by touching him. ‘I think there are far better things to do than talk right now...’

  Dio swept aside the uneasy feeling that, for once, he wasn’t entirely sure that he could agree...

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  OVER THE NEXT few days Lucy successfully managed to suppress those niggling, uncomfortable thoughts that occasionally bobbed to the surface.

  What was going to happen once they left this paradise bubble they were in? Would he expect her to leave the house by the time he returned to London after his Hong Kong trip? Would he choose to keep working abroad until the coast was clear? Naturally, they would have to talk about the nitty-gritty business of the divorce. It wasn’t something that would happen at the click of his imperious fingers but she had no intention of contesting whatever financial settlement he agreed to give her.

  Strangely, the seductive lure of gaining her freedom no longer shone like a beacon at the end of a dark tunnel.