Scandalous Seductions

by Penny Jordan

  She fought against her own response but her body seemed to have a mind of its own, unleashing a wild and uncontrollable urge to feel more and more of his touch. It made her press closer and closer against his hardness, her breasts swelling as if reaching out to him for his intimate attention, her skin prickling with the need to feel his body move and slide against hers.

  She felt the moistening of her feminine core where the pulse of desire was already drumming a primitive beat low and deep inside her, her whole body humming with an escalating need she had never experienced in such an out-of-control way before.

  She heard him groan, a deep, guttural, almost primal sound that rumbled against her breasts and fuelled her reaction to him until she forgot they were standing in full view of the public.

  One of his hands cupped her cheek to angle her head for deeper access, his other hand in the small of her back to press her even harder against him.

  He was incredibly aroused, the length of him surprising her even though she wasn’t completely without experience.

  The sound of voices and footsteps approaching must have jolted Alex into awareness of where they were as he suddenly pulled away, and, giving her a quick, almost self-conscious grin, ran a hand through his hair in a distracted manner. ‘Now that is what I call a kiss. Where’d you learn to do that?’

  She gave him a flustered look. ‘Um…I…’

  He smiled and, tucking her arm through his, escorted her back to the restaurant. ‘Never mind—I don’t think I really want to know. I might start to feel jealous.’

  They were soon re-seated at the same table and the waiter refreshed their glasses with the chilled wine. Food orders were taken and fresh crusty bread and a little plate of warmed marinated local olives appeared.

  After their main course was set before them Amelia found herself finally beginning to relax, the wine easing a bit more of her tension with every sip she took. Alex had done his best to put her at ease, chatting in his easygoing manner to her about his work and how he hoped to train the cardiac team at the Free Hospital, but, even so, every now and again her mind kept drifting back to that explosive kiss. She could still taste him in her mouth and her lips felt swollen and overly sensitive each time she sipped her wine. She could even feel the hard, warm presence of his legs beneath the table; once or twice as he shifted in his chair they brushed against hers, unleashing a shock wave of awareness through her lower body.

  Alex reached across to refill her wineglass, his dark eyes meeting hers. ‘How is your meal?’

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ she said, sending him a shy smile. ‘I haven’t been out to dinner for years.’

  His eyebrows lifted. ‘How many years?’

  She ran a fingertip around the rim of her glass, her eyes watching the movement of her finger rather than meet the dark probe of his gaze. ‘Eleven.’

  He whistled through his teeth. ‘That must have been one hell of a bad meal you had way back then.’

  She felt a reluctant smile tug at her mouth as she lifted her eyes to his. ‘It was. I got my heart broken for dessert.’

  ‘Not a good way to end a meal or a relationship.’

  ‘No.’

  Their gazes locked for a moment and then, as if in unison, slowly lowered to each other’s mouths, the air suddenly charged with erotic possibilities.

  Alex was the first to break the spell. ‘So what happened?’ he asked, reaching for his wine.

  ‘I was too young and inexperienced to see the signs. I had not long lost my mother and was feeling a bit rudderless. A handsome man visiting the island paid me a lot of attention and I stupidly fell for it,’ she said, trying not to let her gaze drift back to the warm temptation of his.

  ‘A handsome married man, I suppose,’ he commented.

  ‘Yes, very much so.’ She let out a tiny sigh. ‘He had two little children back in Milan. Their photographs fell out of his wallet when he dropped it. I picked it up and of course he had all the usual excuses—my wife doesn’t understand me, we no longer have a physical relationship, blah, blah, blah.’

  His dark gaze softened with concern. ‘How did you cope?’

  She brushed her hair back with a soft movement of her hand, her cheeks going a delicate shade of pink. ‘I got myself to a nunnery.’

  He gave her an incredulous look. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

  ‘No.’ She toyed with the rim of her glass with her fingertip again, her expression clouding briefly.

  ‘Were you going to take vows?’

  ‘I was seriously considering it.’

  ‘What changed your mind?’

  She gave him a wry smile. ‘The vow of chastity wasn’t really hard for me, but the vow of silence was.’

  He laughed. ‘Yeah, I can see how that might have been a problem for you.’

  ‘It was. I had a tendency to answer back, which didn’t go down very well.’

  ‘So you left and took up nursing?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, I wanted to do something with my life, something for other people instead of hiding away in a convent.’

  ‘Not all nuns hide away in convents,’ he pointed out. ‘I’ve worked with several who were teaching or nursing in some of the developing countries I’d visited.’

  ‘I know, but I missed my father and brothers after three years. I decided I could do more good on Niroli by working at the Free Hospital as well as one or two community shifts.’

  ‘You weren’t tempted to take your skills to the private hospital where the pay would be better?’ he asked.

  ‘No, never. I think it’s terribly unfair that the well-to-do have top-quality health care while the poorer members of our community have to do with second best.’

  ‘It’s a real problem in most developed countries,’ he said. ‘Those who can afford private health cover often need it less than those who can’t.’

  ‘So that’s part of the reason you are here, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘Apart from the royal summons, of course.’

  ‘Yes, I thought it would be a good opportunity to train the cardiac team while I was here on sabbatical. Vincenzo Morani in particular is keen to learn the technique.’

  ‘You’re employed at a teaching hospital in Sydney?’ she said, this time unable to keep her gaze from tracking back to the warm intensity of his.

  ‘Yeah, I get the fancy title of Associate Professor, which basically means I have to do a whole lot of paperwork for the university as well as juggle tutorials in amongst my regular clinical work. Some days I don’t even have time to think. My folks are always at me to slow down, but it’s hard to get a good balance of work and play.’

  ‘I know. It’s hard when your skills are needed so much.’

  ‘Like you, right?’ he guessed.

  She lowered her gaze self-consciously. ‘I don’t have the demands on me that you do.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ he said. ‘From what I hear you don’t get to play too often either.’

  ‘No, not much, I guess.’

  ‘Are you planning to spend the rest of your life on Niroli?’ he asked after a tiny, almost imperceptible pause.

  ‘I’m not sure…’ She picked up her glass and stared at its contents. ‘I would like to travel, perhaps see a bit of the world, but I have responsibilities here for now.’

  ‘Your father and brothers?’

  ‘Yes…it might be different when my father…passes, but for now I have no immediate plans to leave.’

  A small silence settled in the space between them. Amelia was hunting her brain for something to say to break it, when a man suddenly approached their table to stare at Alex, his face almost white with shock. ‘Antonio?’

  Alex turned his head. ‘Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.’

  ‘I am sorry…’ The man backed away. ‘You look like someone I once knew.’

  Alex gave him a friendly smile. ‘It happens all the time,’ he said. ‘I guess I have one of those boring generic faces.’

  Amelia saw the up and
down movement of the other man’s throat, his pallor still sickly white. He apologised once more and returned to his table where the two other people sharing a meal with him had their gazes still trained on Alex. Their heads came together as the man resumed his seat, their voices low but extremely agitated if the gesticulations of their hands were any indication.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ Alex smiled at her. ‘That’s the third time that’s happened to me this week. One guy even asked if he could take a photo of me. Kind of freaky, huh?’

  Amelia stared at him, her heart feeling like a pendulum that had been knocked out of its steady rhythm. ‘It’s happened before?’ She leaned forward in her chair, her voice lowering. ‘Here? On…on the island?’

  ‘Yeah, but I guess it’s because I look like a native,’ he said with a rueful grin. ‘I mean, it’s not like I can hide it in spite of my Aussie accent. So far I’ve been mistaken for an Antonio and a Marco. I think there was one other name but I can’t remember what it was. Perhaps I look like an Italian movie star—what do you reckon?’

  Her heart gave another hard ram against her sternum.

  ‘So…’ she paused for a moment to moisten her suddenly bone-dry lips ‘.you are of Italian heritage?’

  ‘It’s on my birth certificate. I was born in Agrigento in Sicily.’

  ‘Sicily?’

  ‘Yes. That’s why I thought I’d take up this offer to visit Niroli, being so close and all.’

  Amelia stared at the table for a moment as her heart gradually went back to normal.

  He had been born in Sicily.

  It was on his birth certificate.

  He couldn’t possibly be.

  ‘I haven’t gone there yet but I thought I might,’ he said into the silence.

  She looked up at him blankly. ‘Where?’

  ‘Agrigento.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I just thought I’d have a look around. I haven’t told my parents of my plans, but I kind of figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a wander around the churchyards, see if I recognise any names.’

  ‘Do you know your original Italian name?’

  ‘Yes. It’s a bit of a mouthful—Santocanale.’

  ‘It’s…nice… Very Sicilian…’

  ‘It’s not bad, I suppose, but of course it went once I was formally adopted. However, I absolutely refused to go by my Italian first name. I changed it as soon as I went to school,’ he said with a wry twist to his mouth.

  ‘What is your first name?’

  ‘Alessandro,’ he said, sending another shock wave through her chest. ‘Mind you, it’s kind of different now—most Australians have no trouble with pronouncing unusual names, but thirty-odd years ago I would have been asking to be singled out and bullied for having such an Italian-sounding name. I’ve been Alex ever since.’

  Alex—Alessandro…

  Amelia’s mind was racing along with her heart. People had stopped him in the street, telling him he looked like someone called Antonio.

  Antonio Fierezza, the king’s son who had been killed two years ago in a yachting accident.

  And Marco.

  Her heart gave another sudden sickening lurch.

  Marco Fierezza, the twin grandson of the king, Antonio’s son, the man who had recently given up his right to the Niroli throne to marry the woman he loved more than the kingdom.

  The non-identical male twin.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Alex leaned forward. ‘You’ve gone a little pale.’

  ‘I’m fine…it’s just a bit hot in here…’

  ‘Want to go for a walk along the shore to cool off?’ he suggested, offering her a hand as he stood up.

  Amelia placed her hand in his, her stomach feeling hollow and uneasy as he led her past the table of diners who were still watching him with wide, fearful eyes.

  The cooler air outside helped to clear the clutter of her mind.

  It was impossible, she reassured herself as they made their way down to the gently lapping shore.

  It was just a coincidence as Signora Gravano had said the other day. Alex looked as if he had been born and bred on the island, but so too did many other Italians who visited from the mainland. The olive skin and dark eyes were so commonplace it was understandable people would mistake him for someone else.

  A coincidence.

  That was all it was.

  It couldn’t possibly be anything else….

  ‘Feeling better now?’ Alex asked as a salty sea breeze licked at their faces a short time later.

  ‘Much better.’ She tried a smile but it wasn’t entirely successful.

  ‘I guess I should take you home and let you get a good night’s sleep,’ he said, looking down at her, his expression still soft with concern.

  ‘I guess so.’

  ‘Can we do this again?’ His deep velvet voice was a brushlike caress against her face.

  She ran her tongue across her lips and lowered her eyes. ‘You don’t have much time here.’

  He nudged up her chin with his finger. ‘For you I will make the time.’

  Amelia looked into his eyes, her chest filling with unexpected emotion. She didn’t want to fall in love, certainly not with a man who was only here for a month. How could she bear it when he left if she let her guard down in such a way? But something about Alex Hunter was totally captivating. Not just his sense of humour but also his sincerity. He laughed at life but he also treated it with a great deal of respect. She couldn’t help admiring that quality in him. There was a solid depth to his character that no amount of playful banter could hide. His consideration of his adoptive parents’ feelings showed his ability to put others’ needs before his own, so too did his commitment to the Free Hospital, offering his services free of charge.

  It would be all too easy to fall in love with him but where would that leave her in the end?

  ‘Alex…can I ask you a question?’ She looked up at him, her hazel gaze troubled.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘You said that you weren’t really interested in finding out who your biological parents were…but what if they came looking for you?’

  He compressed his lips for a moment as he gave it some thought. ‘I don’t know…I hadn’t thought of it from that angle. I’d always assumed since I was given away at the age of two that my parent—or parents as the case may be—had no further interest in me. How could they? If they had developed a loving relationship with me over that time why would they have had me adopted out?’

  It was a salient point, she had to admit. It would be hard enough relinquishing a newborn infant, let alone one you had reared to the age of two, watching all those tiny milestones on the way past. The first smile, the first steps, the first words. How could anyone do it without a very good reason?

  ‘Were you adopted from Sicily or Australia?’ she asked.

  ‘Australia,’ he said. ‘I guess my biological parent or parents had migrated there.’

  ‘What about your sister?’ she asked. ‘Has she traced her biological parents?’

  ‘Megan was adopted by my parents when she was twelve,’he said in a sober tone. ‘Her biological parents were abusive. I don’t think she would ever consider seeing either of them again.’

  ‘How tragic. It must be very hard for her.’

  ‘My parents have done the very best they can to help her overcome her past, but some things are not so easily resolved.’

  ‘I can see why you are so hesitant to go looking for your own birth parents. Like you said, you never know what you might find.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘There are some things in life that are best left well alone.’

  She fell into step beside him as they made their way back to his car. Alex Hunter was right, she thought as they drove back towards the turn-off to the foothills.

  Some things were better left well alone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE cottage was in total darkness when Alex drove up the potholed driveway. He glanced at the little figure sitting
so silently beside him, wondering if she was going to baulk at going out with him again. He had enjoyed the evening much more than he’d expected to. He knew he had limited time on the island, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little dalliance without strings. Certainly Amelia Vialli was nothing like any other woman he had ever dated, and after his most recent break-up that was exactly what he needed right now. It had nothing to do with Amelia’s lack of experience of the world, although he would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit to how quaint and refreshing he found it. So many women he knew were way too polished and worldly, and Sarah, his ex-girlfriend, had been no exception. It was such a change to be in the company of a young woman who didn’t hide behind layers of make-up and cloying perfume and flirtatious, manipulative wiles. Amelia had a feisty spirit underneath that quiet humility and he loved that she showed it without reserve. And she was passionate, much more so than he could ever have imagined. One kiss had shown him what was simmering under the surface, no doubt hidden for all this time for fear of being hurt again.

  ‘Would you like me to wait with you until your father and brothers return?’ he offered as he brought the car to a standstill.

  ‘No, I’ll be fine. They could be ages and you have to operate tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Thank you for a lovely evening. The meal was wonderful.’

  He came around to help her out of the car, the moonlight highlighting the perfect oval of her small pixie face. ‘But we didn’t even have dessert.’ He gave her a twinkling look. ‘That’s my favourite part of the meal.’

  He heard the soft intake of her breath. ‘Maybe some other time…’

  He smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

  He walked her to the door, waiting for her to light a candle before he left. The soft, flickering light gave her an almost ethereal look as she turned to face him.

  ‘I suppose you’re wondering why we don’t have electricity connected,’ she said, a tiny glimmer of pride showing in her hazel eyes.

  ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ he lied.

  He felt his stomach tighten with anger at how she and her family had been treated. ‘It’s not right you have to live like this, Amelia. There must be something that can be done. I could speak to someone about it for you.’