Vieri's Convenient Vows (Harlequin Presents)

by Andie Brock

  ‘Molto bella.’ His deep, sultry voice spun her around and she reached out a hand to steady herself against the dresser. As he slowly advanced towards her, her grip tightened against the polished wood. ‘You have made a good choice.’

  ‘Thank you.’ His unexpected compliment went to her head like a glass of champagne. She was just about to blurt out that she hadn’t actually chosen it herself but remembered Donatella’s strict instructions that she wasn’t to mention her input, or indeed that she had met her at all. Harper had wondered if it was because she had no intention of going to visit Alfonso, that maybe this was just a flying visit. Harper gathered she now lived in Milan. ‘You look pretty smart yourself.’

  Smart was a massive understatement. He looked completely, heart-stoppingly, drop-dead gorgeous. Wearing a tuxedo and a white dress shirt with a black bow tie, he was the epitome of suave, elegant handsomeness, as if he had been created solely for the purpose of showing how it should be done. Long limbs were effortlessly encased in the fine fabric, giving him an easy, cat-like grace. He was clean shaven, Harper noticed, his usual designer stubble missing, and his hair was still wet from the shower, pushed back from his forehead so that the thick dark curls were temporarily tamed. He smelled divine too, his subtle aftershave invading her senses now that he was so close. Too close. Way too close.

  ‘Are you wearing your hair down?’ Harper’s breath stuttered to a halt as he reached forward to move her hair to one side, exposing the sweep of her neck. ‘I think the dress would suit an upstyle, don’t you, maybe with some suitable earrings to set it off?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Harper pursed her lips. ‘But I don’t happen to have any suitable earrings.’ What did he think, that she had a selection of diamond jewellery that she could dip into for any occasion?

  ‘I wish I’d thought of that before.’ Vieri’s intense dark blue gaze seared into her. ‘I would have bought you some.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter.’ With a small shake of her head, Harper dislodged his hand so that she could start to breathe again. By taking her caustic comment and turning it around with his offer to buy her jewellery he had disarmed her. More than that, something about the intensity of his stare was doing alarming things to her insides. She wasn’t used to being the focus of such close attention, to have someone looking at her, really looking at her, almost as if they cared. She quickly brushed the silly notion away. ‘I’ll put my hair up anyway.’

  Briskly sweeping past him, she fled for the sanctuary of her bedroom where her make-up bag held a few grips and an assortment of hair bands. ‘Do you want to wait for me down in the lobby?’

  ‘That’s okay. I’m fine here.’

  Harper’s heart plummeted. He might be fine there, decorously lounging about in her dressing room, but she felt anything but fine, as a quick glimpse in the mirror brutally revealed.

  She looked different somehow, as if some sort of banned substance had entered her bloodstream, changing her features. It took her a second to work out what the peculiar look was, and when she did she wished she hadn’t. Because it was arousal. Her cheeks were lightly flushed and her hazel eyes had darkened to a sultry amber glow as the devastating effect of his lethal attraction continued to pump in her veins.

  This evening was going to be awful. However was she going to be able to stand beside Vieri, trying to be the elegant and sophisticated fiancée, when the merest touch of his breath on her neck did this to her?

  Staring at the emerald ring on her finger, she fought the temptation to pull the wretched thing off and hurl it across the room. What good would that do? She had signed up to this deal—she had to see it through.

  Picking up her hairbrush, she started to tug it forcefully through her curls, giving herself a stern talking-to with each vicious stroke. Then, capturing the thick swathe of hair, she twisted it into a knot on the top of her head and, with a mouth full of hair grips, set about securing the stray tendrils as best she could. Then, setting her features in what she hoped was a suitably bland expression, she went back through to the dressing room.

  Vieri, who had been sprawled in a chair, one long leg casually draped over the arm, rose to meet her. His blue eyes raked all over her but he made no comment as she brushed past him to retrieve the shoe box from the dresser, self-consciously lifting out the silver shoes and quickly slipping them onto her feet as if there were nothing remotely unusual about her wearing a pair of sparkly stilettos with a price tag that had made her eyes water, in much the same way as she suspected the shoes themselves would by the end of the night. Throwing a cashmere wrap around her shoulders, she then picked up the silver clutch bag and, drawing in a breath, turned to face Vieri again.

  He came towards her, his right arm crooked as he waited for her to slide her arm through it. Nestled so closely beside him, Harper felt her pulse set off at a gallop.

  ‘Sei pronto, you are ready?’

  Harper nodded, although she felt anything but. She gathered the wrap closer to her in a vain attempt to ward off his nearness.

  ‘Then let’s go.’

  As they moved towards the doorway Harper felt the wobble in her step. And it wasn’t just the four-inch heels.

  * * *

  The Winter Ball was a magnificently glittering affair held in a stunning, floodlit medieval castle not far from Palermo. The guests were escorted across the moat and through the echoing anterooms to a ballroom that had been transformed into a winter wonderland. Giant icicles twirled above their heads, snowflakes danced across the walls, and enormous ice sculptures of fantastical beasts adorned the walls. It was certainly breathtaking, if a little dazzling. As Harper gazed about in awe she realised that most of the women were dressed in appropriately winter colours; ice blue was very popular, as were silver and white. Even the staff were dressed from head to toe in snowy white. And there she was in flaming scarlet.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she snapped in Vieri’s ear as she reluctantly relinquished her wrap, the idea that she might be able to keep it on for the entire evening quickly taken out of her hands by the helpful cloakroom attendant.

  ‘Tell you what?’

  ‘That everyone would be dressed in...in cold colours.’

  ‘I didn’t know they would.’ Vieri surveyed the room dismissively.

  Harper followed his even gaze, feeling like a hedgerow poppy about to infiltrate a room full of lilies. But it was too late now. With his arm snaking around her waist, Vieri was confidently escorting her into the room, all eyes turning to look at them. Or so it seemed to Harper. She felt their curious stares, their blatant scrutiny of this boldly dressed stranger who had the audacity to be on the arm of Sicily’s most eligible bachelor. As they advanced further into the room the crowd parted, almost reverentially, to let them through until a middle-aged man came forward to shake Vieri’s hand, demanding to know who this beautiful young woman was. When Vieri casually introduced her as his fiancée there was an audible intake of breath before a group of people closed around them, congratulations flying as the women edged forward to get a better look at her, eyeing the ring on her finger with burning curiosity, while the men were slapping Vieri on the back.

  Harper quickly downed half a glass of champagne. She was about as far out of her comfort zone as it was possible to go. Unlike her sister, she had never aspired to live the high life, the affairs of the rich and famous holding no interest for her. While Leah would be poring over celebrity magazines, she would be more likely to be found running her finger down the column of barely legible figures in their father’s accounts ledger, trying to make sure that everything balanced before it was handed over to the estate accountant. Her biggest dread was that the Laird would be forced to sack her father, that they would lose their livelihood, their home. Gordon Gillespie, Laird of Craigmore, was a good man but fundamentally the Craigmore estate was a business, and if Angus McDonald was seen as a liability, Harper knew he would have to go. Which was why she worried herself sick fighting the losing battle to keep him sober,
covering his tracks, essentially doing as much of his job as she could for him.

  But tonight she had another job to do. Tonight she had to play the part of the adoring fiancée. Although how she was supposed to do that when Vieri was virtually ignoring her, she had no idea. Despite the fact that he had stressed in the car the importance of them giving a convincing performance because the gossip from the night would be sure to find its way back to Alfonso, now they were actually here he seemed to have forgotten all about her. As the great and the good of Sicilian high society swarmed around them, not to mention royalty and A-list celebrities from all over Europe, she watched him being borne away on a tide of adoring females, scarcely giving her a glance as he disappeared into the crowd. Well, maybe it was a much-needed reality check. When Vieri had looked at her in her dressing room, just for that moment, he had made her feel beautiful. He had made her feel special. Now, as she watched the smooth way he charmed the women around him, she realised it had simply been an act. A minor charm offensive. And like a fool she had fallen for it.

  Draining the last of the champagne, she swapped the empty glass for a full one from a passing waiter. She wished she could shrink into the background, pretend she wasn’t here, but, given her choice of attire, that wouldn’t be easy. A shriek of laughter turned her head in time to see a beautiful blonde with icicle earrings grasp Vieri’s arm then lean forward to giggle something into his ear. Harper turned back, squashing down the pang of hurt, refusing to let herself feel anything.

  ‘Signorina?’ A rather dashing young man wearing some sort of military uniform stepped forward. ‘Would you do me the great honour of having the next dance?’

  Pasting on a smile and accepting his hand, Harper allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, grateful that at least someone was paying her some attention. She would allow him the honour, and anyone else who might want to dance with her. They would be no substitute for Vieri, of course, but right now her bruised confidence would take anything that was on offer.

  * * *

  From his table at the side of the ballroom, Vieri’s narrow-eyed gaze flitted across the crowded dance floor. She wasn’t difficult to spot, the flash of that scarlet dress as Harper was twirled around by yet another partner, male guests of all ages queuing up for the chance to take her hand, slide their arm around her waist, hold her just that little bit too close.

  Well, it was time to put a stop to it. Vieri pushed his drink away and rose to his feet. He thought he had made himself clear. He thought he had explained that her role as his ‘fiancée’ was to spend the evening by his side, look decorous and say little. Instead of that she had disappeared the first chance she’d had, already on the dance floor when he had looked up to see where she was within minutes of their arrival.

  Irritation spiked through him, along with some other emotion that felt suspiciously like jealousy. He ground his jaw. If she was dancing with anyone it should be him.

  Was she doing this deliberately? Trying to prove some sort of point? Vieri had never concerned himself with the inner workings of a woman’s mind and he certainly had no time for playing silly games, as the few women who had tried that on with him had soon found out to their cost. But he would never have thought that of Harper. She was too open, altogether too straightforward. It was one of the things he liked about her. But tonight she had overstepped the mark. If she wasn’t playing games it was time he reminded her of her duty. To him.

  Weaving his way through the dancers, he zoned in on his target, briefly pausing behind the swaying figure of Harper’s partner, Hans Langenberg, the Crown Prince of a small European principality, before tapping him briskly on the shoulder.

  ‘Excuse me.’

  ‘Vieri Romano.’ Hans turned to face him. ‘I hope you haven’t come to spoil my fun.’

  ‘If you mean claiming my fiancée for a dance, then yes, I have.’

  ‘Fiancée, eh, Romano?’ The Crown Prince looked at him with renewed respect. ‘So it’s true. You are finally committing after all this time?’

  Vieri gave a brisk nod. ‘I said so, didn’t I?’

  ‘Well, hats off to you, old chap. You have made an excellent choice.’

  Vieri scowled. Why did everyone persist in telling him what an excellent choice he had made when in point of fact he hadn’t made the choice at all?

  ‘Though I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed,’ Hans continued. ‘I was hoping I might be in with a chance myself.’

  ‘Well, I can assure you, you are not.’ With a surge of possessiveness Vieri stepped in between the two of them, slipping his arm around Harper’s waist. A tingle of awareness shot through him as his fingers touched the bare skin of her lower back. Swiftly followed by the hot rush of annoyance when he thought of the other men who had had their hands there tonight.

  ‘I am here, you know, I can speak for myself,’ Harper finally piped up. But her voice held none of the usual edge Vieri had expected to hear. Instead there was a hint of triumph, a light in her eyes that told him he had been sussed—that he had given himself away. Something she decided to put to the test by leaning into him so that the sexy warmth of her body worked its way through the fabric of his suit, setting off a chain reaction that he battled to contain.

  ‘I don’t doubt it for one moment, Miss McDonald.’ Hans reached for Harper’s hand, kissing the back of it before letting go and giving her a formal bow. ‘Can I just say it has been a pleasure? And should you, you know, ever change your mind...’

  There was a low growl and it took Vieri a second to realise it had come from him. Pulling Harper closer to him, he fixed Hans with a menacing stare. ‘Back off, Langenberg.’

  ‘Sorry, old chap.’ Hans frowned. ‘Didn’t mean to tread on your toes.’

  ‘It didn’t stop you treading on mine.’ Both men turned to look at Harper, who was stifling a giggle.

  Vieri glared at her. She was drunk; she had to be. ‘You, young lady, need some fresh air.’ Loosening his arm, he took hold of Harper’s hand. ‘We are leaving.’

  He started to weave his way out of the ballroom, keeping Harper’s hand in a firm grip as he negotiated a path through the noisy throng of people, ignoring all attempts to stop them from leaving. They made their way down a corridor, Harper’s shoes clicking on the flagstoned floor as she hurried to keep up with him, until they reached an ancient oak-panelled door, and, sliding the heavy iron bolt across, Vieri ushered them out into a secluded courtyard. It was quiet and dark out here, the music from the ballroom reduced to little more than a dull thud. High castle walls on all four sides protected them from the breeze but the air was still cold and Vieri felt Harper shiver beside him.

  ‘Here.’ Shrugging off his jacket, he draped it over her shoulders. ‘So...’ He held her at arm’s length. ‘How much have you had to drink?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She tipped her chin. ‘I wasn’t counting. How much have you had?’

  ‘For your information I am stone-cold sober.’

  ‘Really?’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘How boring.’ Shrugging off his jacket, she tried to give it back to him. ‘I don’t need this. I am used to properly cold winters. Where I come from this would be considered positively balmy.’

  ‘Well, from where I come from it isn’t and I’m not letting you get hypothermia.’ He positioned the jacket over her shoulders again.

  ‘What is it with you, bossing me around all the time?’ Without waiting for an answer, Harper took a few steps away and twirled herself around, holding the lapels of the jacket across her chest. ‘But thank you for bringing me here. I have actually had a lovely evening.’

  He’d noticed. Vieri ground down on his jaw. But if she was baiting him, he refused to bite. ‘It’s Alfonso you should be thanking. It was his idea.’

  ‘Then I will, the next time we visit. He is such a lovely man. And so generous. Everyone here thinks the world of him.’

  ‘Yes.’ Vieri’s voice sounded gruff in the dim light. ‘I know.’

  ‘It is so sad to t
hink that he is dying.’ She turned mournful wide eyes in his direction.

  ‘Everyone has to die eventually.’

  ‘I guess.’ Vieri watched as she moved to the centre of the courtyard, throwing back her head and looking up into the sky. ‘When my mother died, Leah and I were told that she had become a star in the sky. We didn’t really believe it, even then.’ She paused, staring intently upwards. ‘But on a starlit night like tonight I still find myself wondering which one she might be. Silly, I know.’

  ‘That’s not silly.’ Vieri quietly closed the gap between them, coming to stand next to her. ‘It’s a way of remembering her.’ There was a beat of silence. ‘How old were you, when she died?’

  ‘Twelve.’ Harper turned to look at him.

  ‘And it was an accident with a shotgun, you say?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was very small.

  ‘What happened?’ Suddenly Vieri found he wanted to know the details. To try and understand the event that had so obviously shaped this young woman’s life.

  ‘My father was away one night, helping out on a neighbouring estate.’ Vieri could see the effort it took for Harper to talk about this, even now, years after the event. ‘My mother heard a disturbance, someone trying to poach the birds, so she took the shotgun to try and scare them off. It was dark, she wasn’t used to handling a gun, she tripped...’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Vieri held her gaze. ‘That must have been very hard for you all.’

  ‘Yep.’ Harper touched the slender column of her throat. ‘Pretty tough. She died trying to protect a few birds that were going to end up getting shot anyway. Ironic when you think about it. And Dad never forgave himself. He was convinced it was his fault.’

  And she had been left to pick up the pieces. She didn’t say as much, but as Vieri studied Harper’s proud silhouette in the dim light it was plain to see—the care and compassion, the responsibility, that sat so heavily on her slender shoulders. It was clear that she would do anything for her family, even if, as he strongly suspected, they didn’t appreciate her. He wondered if her father and sister had any idea how lucky they were to have her, to have a family at all, in fact. But if they were guilty of taking her for granted, where did that leave him? He was using her entirely for his own gain. It was an uncomfortable thought.