He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear with a hand that shook a little. ‘Orla...’ He breathed her name like a prayer. ‘I love you and it terrifies the hell out of me because I don’t know how I would survive if I lost you. But I can’t fight the way I feel any more,’ he said thickly. ‘I used to think that if I never loved then I would never be hurt, but I am so deeply in love with you and it’s killing me not knowing if I have destroyed any chance I might have had with you. When you walked out of here earlier I knew I couldn’t let you go again. The truth is that I should never have let you go eight years ago.’
‘Oh, Torre,’ she whispered, disbelief turning to wonder and then utter joy. Through her tears she saw that his lashes were wet, and with a soft cry she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. ‘I love you with all my heart. I always have and I always will,’ she said simply.
He tightened his arms around her and buried his face against her neck. She felt dampness against her skin, and her heart turned over because she knew they were the tears of a young boy who had never cried. And then he kissed her; a slow, sweet kiss at first, and then, as the fire ignited between them, she pressed her body to his and heard him give a low groan.
‘Ti amo, Orla. Will you marry me and let me take care of you and our baby, the children I hope we will have in the future?’
‘Yes,’ she said fearlessly. Her eyes were bright with love and there was not a flicker of doubt in her voice because she knew she belonged with Torre, just as he belonged with her. He had built them a wonderful house, but home would be wherever they were together.
‘I love you,’ Torre whispered against her lips, before kissing her again. ‘I have never said those words to anyone before,’ he admitted when he carried her up to their bedroom and laid her down on the bed.
He undressed her and then himself and his hands shook slightly when he lay down next to her and smoothed her hair back from her face. Orla caught her breath as he stroked her breasts and then lowered his head to take one nipple and then the other into his mouth. ‘I love you,’ he said again, and his voice was so gentle, so loving that tears filled her eyes.
‘I will tell you every day how much I adore you,’ he promised. ‘When you left, I was scared that I had lost you for ever.’
Orla put her hands on either side of his face and drew his mouth down to hers. ‘You couldn’t lose me because I am yours, and you are mine,’ she said softly. And Torre realised that it was as simple and as earth-shattering as that.
He told her that he loved her as he moved over her and joined their bodies as one. Their passion was as fierce as ever but there was tenderness too, and a deep, abiding love that would last a lifetime.
Two hearts bound together. For ever.
* * *
They were married a month later in the exquisitely beautiful Duomo in Ravello, in front of family and friends, and after the ceremony they walked down the steps of the church into the piazza and it seemed as though all the people of the town had gathered to wish them well.
Torre had felt as though his heart would explode when he’d turned his head and watched Orla walk down the aisle towards him. Wearing a simple white silk and lace wedding gown and with her pale red hair loose, she had carried a bouquet of white roses and her only jewellery, apart from the teardrop diamond ring that he had given her for an engagement ring, was the gold-plated chain and four-leaf clover pendant from her father.
Fourteen months later, Torre once again felt his heart swell with love and pride as he watched his wife walk onto the stage at the university’s graduation ceremony to receive her degree in civil engineering.
‘Can you see your mamma?’ he murmured to his son, pointing to the stage where Orla, dressed in her academic robes, stood with the other graduates. Six-month-old Luca grinned, showing his first tooth, and Torre swallowed hard and kissed the baby’s silky black curls. The baby was adored by his parents, and Torre gave thanks every day for the two miracles in his life.
Life could not be more perfect, he said to Orla a week after she had graduated and they returned to Casa Elisabetta—the house that Torre had built for the woman who had captured his heart, and was named after the only other woman he had loved. ‘Have you decided if you want to take on a civil engineering role at ARC, or do you want to wait until Luca is a bit older before you focus on your career?’
‘My career will have to wait a little longer.’ She looped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her close, burying his face in her silky hair. ‘When you built the house and you imagined us living here with our children, how many children did you picture?’ she asked him.
He drew back a little and gave her a puzzled look. ‘I don’t know. Five or six.’ He laughed at her startled expression. ‘I didn’t see an exact number, I only had eyes for you, amore mio.’
‘Well, I’m not sure about six children, but baby number two is going to arrive earlier than we’d planned. It seems that we are a very potent combination,’ she said ruefully.
Torre contained his fierce sense of joy and searched her face. ‘How do you feel about having another baby? I know we said we would like to give Luca a brother or sister, but you studied hard for your degree, and we were going to wait for a year or so to give you time to enjoy your career before adding to our family.’
Her smile stole his breath, as it always did. ‘I’m overjoyed to be pregnant again,’ she said simply. ‘I will love the new baby with all my heart, as I love Luca, and one day I’ll love working in an engineering role. But more than anything else, I love you, Torre.’
He swallowed hard and wasn’t ashamed of the sudden brightness in his eyes. ‘And I love you,’ he said softly. ‘Always.’
* * * * *
If you enjoyed HIRED FOR ROMANO’S PLEASURE you’re sure to love these other stories by Chantelle Shaw!
ACQUIRED BY HER GREEK BOSS
THE THRONE HE MUST TAKE
THE SECRET HE MUST CLAIM
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Keep reading for an excerpt from CONTRACTED FOR THE PETRAKIS HEIR by Annie West.
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Contracted for the Petrakis Heir
by Annie West
CHAPTER ONE
ADONI PETRAKIS SURVEYED the crowd filling the ballroom of his flagship London hotel. Initially the guests had been on their best behaviour for the wedding ceremony, partly from finding themselves in such a prestigious venue. There had been open-mouthed stares at the soaring antique glass domed ceiling, t
he recently refurbished hand-blown chandeliers and the other elegant furnishings.
Now the mood bordered on raucous. His school friend Leo’s new English in-laws were letting down their hair with abandon.
Adoni’s gaze cut to Leo and his bride, now changed out of their church clothes, surrounded by a phalanx of groomsmen playing a drinking game. There was a flurry of bridesmaids in ostentatiously frilled dresses that ranged from pale lemon to a particularly bilious shade of mustard. A braying laugh from one of them scraped like fingernails across a blackboard and Adoni shuddered.
Now the formalities were over, the cake cut, photos taken and speeches delivered, there was nothing keeping him. He’d done his bit, offering Leo the premises for the event and attending in person, even dancing with the bride.
He lifted one shoulder, easing the old stiffness in his collarbone. It had been a long week. A long month for that matter, and while he wasn’t ready for bed, nor was he inclined to stay for an increasingly rowdy party. This group had little in common with a man whose life was devoted to business.
If there’d been a woman here he found attractive he might have invited her up to his suite for a private celebration. There wasn’t. The only really pretty women were either attached or looked at him with dollar signs in their eyes.
He’d learned his lesson long ago with that breed.
Instead he crossed the room, wished the happy couple all the best, kissed the flushed bride on both cheeks then left. A nod to the hotel events coordinator who was keeping an eye on the evening, then Adoni was in the blessed peace of the atrium.
Since he didn’t have company for the night, he’d look over that new contract. Or maybe use the gym.
He was restless, his thoughts on the couple who’d just pledged their lives to each other. And, inevitably, on his own hastily cancelled wedding years ago. His mouth firmed.
He sure as hell didn’t carry a torch for Chryssa. Yet it was strange how, all evening, his mind had backtracked to that half-forgotten past, when life had seemed straightforward and he’d believed in love.
A lifetime ago.
He keyed in the code for his private lift to the owner’s suite. The doors slid open and he stepped inside. Seconds later a figure catapulted into the small space, slamming against him in a slither of satin and a cloud of pungent hairspray.
Adoni’s nostrils pinched and a sneeze escaped.
‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’ a husky voice whispered near his chin. ‘But please, don’t give me away.’ Instead of moving back the girl pressed closer, hip to his thigh, hand clawing his sleeve.
‘Give you away?’
‘Please. He’ll hear.’ She reached out a pale hand and jabbed the button to make the door close. As soon as it did she released her grip and sank back into the corner.
‘Are you okay?’ Adoni’s voice sharpened. Her head was downcast but the tension in her shoulders and the frenetic pulse at the base of her throat spoke of fear. ‘Has someone hurt you?’
‘Hurt me?’ She shook her head and straightened away from the wall, swaying a little. ‘No, though I’m sure he’d like to strangle me if he could. He hates me and he’s a vicious little toad.’
With a gasp she clapped a hand over her mouth and looked up. Unfocused eyes of slate blue met his. Eyes that might have been pretty if it weren’t for the huge swathe of too-bright azure eye shadow and the most enormous pair of false eyelashes weighting her lids. She looked like a startled trollop.
‘I didn’t mean to say that out loud.’ She frowned up at him suspiciously as if he’d coaxed the words from her.
‘He sounds like a man to avoid.’
‘Oh, he is.’ The girl nodded so emphatically another acrid wave of hairspray assaulted him. She was a girl. Eighteen maybe, twenty max, and trying to look older with that brash make-up. ‘If I’d known he was going to be here I’d never have said yes to Emily. Discretion is the better part of valour, after all.’
‘Emily?’ Adoni crossed his arms and settled his shoulders against the wall, intrigued. Why this unprepossessing female caught his curiosity, he couldn’t say. But he was in no hurry. There was nothing waiting in his suite except work and a good brandy.
‘The bride.’ The frown became a scowl. ‘Weren’t you at the wedding? I thought I saw you on the other side of the room looking all dark and brooding.’ She leaned closer, her gaze intent, and beneath the sharp hairspray smell he caught a hint of something delicate.
She swayed back again. ‘I’m sure it was you. The silly sisters were tittering with excitement, egging each other on to ask you to dance.’
‘Silly sisters?’
‘The other bridesmaids.’
‘Ah.’ No wonder she looked vaguely familiar. This was the bridesmaid who’d sat on the end of the long table, her dress of dark yellow tinged with green making her look slightly nauseous. Or maybe she was nauseous.
‘Are you sick?’
‘Only of the company in there.’ Again those eyes grew huge and her hand hovered over her mouth.
Adoni watched, fascinated despite himself, as she blinked and stood straighter, the top of her head reaching the level of his mouth.
‘It must be the champagne,’ she murmured, her hand dropping. ‘Who’d have thought it? I only had two glasses. Would that do it?’ She tilted her head, surveying him owlishly.
‘Do what?’ Adoni repressed a smile.
‘Make me so loqua...’ Her brows knotted in concentration. ‘Talkative. Normally I think before I speak. Always.’
He folded his arms over his chest. ‘It depends how much you usually drink.’
‘I don’t. Tonight was my first taste of champagne.’
‘Then yes, it probably is.’ Diverted as he was, her friends would be looking for her. ‘Isn’t it time you went back?’
She shuddered and clutched his sleeve. ‘No! Not till he’s gone.’ She looked at the controls. ‘Why aren’t we moving?’ She slammed her hand onto the up button. ‘I’m sorry. I hope you want to go up. I’ll go anywhere so long as it’s away from him.’
‘The toad?’
‘Yes! How did you know?’ Her face broke into a wide smile that hit him in the solar plexus. When she smiled he saw something that even the plastered-on make-up couldn’t conceal. ‘Dark and brooding and clever too! I like you, Mr...?’
‘Petrakis. Adoni Petrakis.’
Again those eyes rounded. ‘Adoni?’
He nodded, waiting for the usual gushing excitement. He’d never had trouble attracting women but since he’d built his fortune...
‘As in Adonis?’
‘It’s a Greek name.’
‘Of course it is, but it’s all wrong for you.’ She squinted up at him, her lips pursed in a moue of concentration that looked surprisingly sexy, despite the bright shade of coral lipstick that clashed horribly with her pale skin. ‘You’re no Adonis.’
Adoni stared down at her. He was accustomed to flattery from women, not disappointment.
‘You know who Adonis was?’
She waved a dismissive hand as if he interrupted her thought processes. ‘In Greek mythology he was a gorgeous young man, loved by Aphrodite and later killed by a boar.’ She bit her lip. ‘Or maybe by someone else, I can’t remember. But you’re not an Adonis.’
Adoni couldn’t keep his smile back. Had he ever met a woman who spoke to him like this? Not flattering and eager? ‘Not pretty enough?’
Again that disparaging wave of her hand. ‘No one could call you pretty.’ Her voice rang with certainty. ‘Handsome yes, but in a tough, dangerous sort of way. And those wicked eyebrows.’ She lifted a hand towards his face but stopped short of touching him. ‘More like Ares, god of war. Sexy but hard.’
The doors slid open behind her and she turned while Adoni was still trying to work out if he’d just been insulted or complimented.
&
nbsp; ‘Oh, this is nice.’ She drifted out of the lift into the foyer of his private suite, peering through the open door to the vast sitting room. ‘Do you think it would be okay for me to stay here for a bit till he’s gone?’
She moved forward, catching her shoe on the hand-knotted rug. Arms windmilling, she swayed till Adoni strode over and caught her upper arm. Her flesh was cool and smooth as silk.
‘Are you sure you only had two glasses of champagne?’
She sagged against him, one hand planted on his chest. ‘Absolutely. But I don’t think I’d better have any more. I feel a little...different.’ She blinked hazily up at him. ‘Do you think I’m behaving oddly?’
What he thought was that, beneath the harsh make-up and the unflattering dress, this young woman was surprisingly appealing. And potentially vulnerable.
‘Your friends will be missing you.’
She shook her head. ‘Not my friends and they won’t miss me. I don’t know anyone there, except Emily—she’s my cousin. And her parents. But they don’t have time for me. They never did. I’m just a ring-in because bridesmaid number seven had to bail at the last minute. Oh, and the toad—I know him.’ She grimaced. ‘But I don’t want to see him. Couldn’t I just sit quietly for a bit? I could sneak out and catch a train home but I do feel a bit wobbly.’
Adoni scrutinised her. Clearly she couldn’t make her way home alone yet. She was far too trusting to be let out without someone to keep an eye on her.
‘Very well. Stay here and I’ll make us coffee.’
‘Lovely! I never thought of Ares being so domesticated. I think of him being all passion and fire.’ She beamed again, that huge, beatific smile, and to his astonishment Adoni found himself smiling back. She was talking nonsense but her sense of humour appealed. As did the fact she didn’t walk on eggshells around him.
‘Do you think I could use the bathroom?’
‘Of course. Down the corridor on the left.’
The sitting room was empty when Adoni came back. He set the tray of coffee and sweet shortbread on a table, telling himself he’d been a fool to let her in. He didn’t know anything about her. Except that she couldn’t hold her champagne and did know a surprising amount of Greek mythology. He didn’t even know her name.
Hired for Romano's Pleasure Page 16