Captive in His Castle

by Chantelle Shaw

  Still smarting from the idea that he viewed marriage to her as a sacrifice, she stalked over to the door with her head held high, and said coolly, ‘Presumably we don’t have to start the pretence that we are in love until we are in front of your family? Although, to be honest, I’m not sure I’m that good an actress.’

  ‘Perhaps this will help you get into character.’ He caught up with her and spun her round, stifling her angry protest with his mouth as he lowered his head and claimed her lips in a searing kiss that left her trembling and breathless.

  It was over far too quickly, and to compound Jess’s shame Drago had to unfurl her fingers from the lapels of his jacket as he stepped away from her.

  ‘Keep responding to me like that and you’ll even convince me that I’m the love of your life, cara,’ he mocked gently, and without giving her a chance to reply he put his hand in the small of her back and steered her out of the room.

  Jess’s face still felt hot when Drago ushered her into the dining room. Running her tongue over her lips, she felt their slight puffiness and knew she must look as though she had been thoroughly kissed by her fiancé.

  Seeing Angelo, balanced on crutches and looking drawn but otherwise remarkably well, provided a welcome distraction—although his greeting, ‘Here are the two lovebirds,’ brought another flush to her cheeks.

  Aunt Dorotea rushed up and enveloped her in a hug. Angelo’s mother was convinced that Jess had been responsible for her son regaining his memory and she congratulated the newly engaged couple effusively. Drago’s mother was more reserved with her congratulations, and not for the first time Jess was conscious of Luisa studying her speculatively.

  After dinner she cornered Jess in the conservatory. ‘I’m surprised by your choice of engagement ring,’ she murmured, lifting Jess’s hand and studying the enormous diamond. ‘This bauble seems a little too ostentatious for your tastes.’

  ‘I didn’t choose it,’ Jess admitted. ‘Drago…surprised me when he gave it to me. And I think it’s absolutely lovely,’ she lied.

  For some strange reason she found that she did not want to be disloyal to Drago. Luisa had been right to guess that the ring wasn’t her taste, but she certainly didn’t want to risk hurting Drago’s feelings by saying so.

  Luisa looked at her closely. ‘So you really do love him?’ she murmured. For the first time that evening she smiled warmly at Jess, who had gone bright red. ‘I am very happy for both of you.’ Her voice became serious. ‘May I offer you a word of advice? I adore my son, but Drago is strong-willed—like his father—and you may find it necessary to stand up to him from time to time.’ She smiled again. ‘But don’t let him know I told you that.’

  Jess was still reeling because Luisa had guessed how she felt about Drago. ‘I won’t,’ she promised. ‘I’m strong-willed myself, and we’ve already had a few clashes,’ she said ruefully.

  ‘It won’t do him any harm. Vittoria was too soft-natured for him, and had they married they would not have been happy. But I was sorry their relationship ended so tragically. It took Drago a long time to get over what happened. I expect he has told you—’ Luisa broke off as Drago entered the conservatory.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he said as he walked over to them and slid his arm around Jess’s waist. ‘I missed you, tesoro.’

  His velvet-soft voice, and the gentle look in his eyes as he stared down at her caused Jess’s heart to lurch. His performance as an adoring fiancé was very convincing, and she had to remind herself sternly that it was an act for his family’s benefit. But she wished he had not interrupted her conversation with his mother, for she was none the wiser about why his engagement to Vittoria had ended.

  Did he still love the beautiful socialite? she wondered later as she followed him into the bedroom. He had sounded regretful when he had explained that Vittoria had been the one to break off their engagement. What had Drago’s mother meant when she’d said his engagement to Vittoria had ended ‘tragically’?

  Frustrated that there was so much she did not know about the man she was to marry in two weeks’ time, Jess watched him shrug off his dinner jacket and begin to unfasten his shirt buttons, revealing inch by inch the muscular bronzed chest covered with whorls of dark hair that arrowed over his flat abdomen and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. His devastating good looks took her breath away, and a different kind of frustration unfurled in the pit of her stomach.

  He glanced over at her, and Jess glimpsed a predatory hunger in his eyes which was quickly masked beneath the sweep of his thick lashes. But the glittering look lifted her spirits, because it was proof that Drago’s desire for her had not faded. They had been drawn together by their fierce sexual attraction to each other, and it was likely that desire was all he would ever feel for her, she acknowledged sadly. But it was better than nothing, and life had taught Jess to settle for what she could get and not wish for the moon.

  ‘Did I mention how gorgeous you look in that dress?’ Drago murmured.

  ‘You told me before we went down to dinner,’ she reminded him.

  Rosy pink colour flared on her cheeks, and Drago knew she was remembering him kissing her. She had goaded him so that he had lost his self-control and punished her with a searing kiss, but his anger had quickly turned to desire and he had spent the evening in a state of uncomfortable semi-arousal.

  She was a work of art—so slender and fine-boned that she reminded him of a delicate porcelain figurine. But her bare shoulders were satin-soft beneath his fingers as he traced the line of her collarbone, and the pulse jerking at the base of her throat was evidence that she was a warm, responsive woman, not a cold statue. Her eyes glowed emerald-bright and her mouth was a soft pink temptation that he could not resist. He felt his body stir, and his need for her pounded an urgent drumbeat through his veins.

  He cupped her face in his hands, but a frown drew his brows together when he noticed the purple shadows beneath her eyes. She looked infinitely fragile. His frown deepened. What was he thinking of, putting his own selfish need for sexual fulfilment before her well-being? And not only her well-being, but that of the child in her belly. How could he consider making love to her during these crucial early days of her pregnancy? Drago asked himself angrily. He knew better than most how precarious was the tiny life she carried.

  Ignoring the ache of frustration in his gut, he dropped his hands from her shoulders. ‘You should get to bed. You look all in,’ he murmured. ‘Here.’ He took one of his shirts from a drawer and handed it to her. The look of disappointment in her eyes tested his resolve, and Drago knew there was no way he would be able to keep his hands off her if he had to lie next to her delectable body all night. ‘I need to read a report that won’t keep. I don’t want to disturb you, so I’ll sleep in my dressing room tonight.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to do that,’ Jess mumbled, taken aback by his sudden change from sensual lover to enigmatic stranger. So much for her belief that there would at least be passion in their marriage, if not love, she thought bleakly. Drago was in such a hurry to get away from her that he was already walking through the door leading to his dressing room.

  He turned back to her, his expression serious. ‘It is important for the baby’s development that you sleep well. But every night you have dreams that upset you, and you speak of someone called Katie.’ He waited for Jess to make a response, and when she remained silent frustration surged through him. He sensed there was something in her past that she was keeping secret, but he could not force her to confide in him, he acknowledged heavily. ‘I’ll check with Dr Marellis if it is harmful to experience disturbing dreams during pregnancy,’ he said gruffly. ‘Buonanotte, Jess.’

  I’ll check with Dr Marellis was a phrase Drago repeated often during the following days, and his obsessive concern for her health drove Jess mad. He consulted an array of health care books, monitored every aspect of her pregnancy, and fretted about her bouts of morning sickness, which grew worse daily and left
her feeling weak and drained.

  ‘How can you be sure it is normal to be so sick?’ he demanded when she tried to reassure him. She almost let slip that this was not her first experience of morning sickness. But the idea of talking about her first pregnancy was too painful to contemplate when the wound in her heart was so deep and raw.

  Even when Drago was abroad she still felt stifled by him, Jess brooded, three days before their wedding was due to take place. He had explained that his business trip to Germany was unavoidable. She had refrained from admitting that she would be glad to have a few days to herself. But her hopes of having some time alone, so that she could come to terms with the dramatic changes in her life and especially her feelings about her pregnancy, had been dashed by Drago’s constant phone calls.

  ‘Yes, I ate breakfast,’ she told him patiently. ‘No, I haven’t been sick this morning.’

  ‘Why not?’ His voice sounded sharp over the phone. ‘Why would the sickness suddenly stop?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m just glad to have kept my food down for once,’ Jess muttered. Really, there was no pleasing him, she thought irritably. According to Drago, she was either too sick or not sick enough.

  ‘Yes—that’s good, of course. Perhaps you’ll start to put on weight rather than lose it. But I’ll call Eduardo Marellis and arrange for him to come to the palazzo and check that your pregnancy is progressing as it should.’

  ‘There’s no need. I only saw him four days ago.’

  ‘It’s better to be safe,’ Drago said in the uncompromising voice Jess knew so well. ‘I don’t want you to do too much today. In fact why don’t you spend the morning in bed?’

  It was on the tip of Jess’s tongue to tell him that being in bed on her own wasn’t much fun, but pride kept her quiet. Drago had slept in his dressing room every night since he had announced their engagement to his family, and she was determined to hide how hurt she felt and how much she missed him. It wasn’t just the sex; it was the feeling of closeness to him that she longed for—because then she could fool herself that he cared for her a little.

  When he ended the phone call she wandered over to the window and stared out at the view of the Grand Canal, which was busy with the boats and water taxis that provided the main mode of transport through the city. Venice attracted thousands of tourists in the summer, but Jess had lived her whole life in London and was used to busy streets. She was also used to being independent and going out when and where she pleased, but Drago had insisted that she did not leave the palazzo without being accompanied by his bodyguard Fico.

  She felt as if she was imprisoned in a gilded cage, she thought heavily. She missed her freedom, and with her wedding only days away she felt trapped. Marrying Drago was undoubtedly the best thing she could do for the baby. Their child would enjoy a privileged lifestyle that she could not possibly give if she was a single mother. But she was struggling to come to terms emotionally with being pregnant for a second time, and the guilt she had buried for so long was a permanent ache in her heart.

  If only she could just have a few hours to herself to think—without Fico or the other household staff hovering around her. She grimaced as she remembered her crazy attempt to climb down from the balcony the first night Drago had brought her to the palazzo. She was not going to do anything as stupid as that again, but there was no reason why she shouldn’t slip away by herself for a couple of hours. Drago need never find out.

  ‘What do you mean, she’s not here?’ Drago roared, venting his fury on the hapless maid who had hurried downstairs to tell him that Signorina Harper was not anywhere in the palazzo or the garden.

  Dropping his briefcase on the marble floor of the entrance hall, he thrust his fingers through his hair and discovered that his hand was shaking. Fear was rapidly replacing the anger that had blazed in him when he had received a phone call from Fico to tell him that Jess had apparently disappeared.

  Thank God he had decided to cut his trip to Germany short and had already been at Marco Polo airport when he had spoken to Fico. Drago glared at the bodyguard, who had just returned from St Mark’s Square, which was one of Jess’s favourite haunts.

  ‘No sign of her,’ Fico said gruffly. ‘But the place is packed with tourists and I could have missed her if she’s in a café. I’ve left three members of the security team to continue searching—’

  Puzzled by the bodyguard’s abrupt silence, Drago followed his gaze and spun round to see Jess walking up the front steps of the palazzo. Relief caused his knees to sag, but incensed by the effect she had on him, and the unpalatable fact that she weakened and unmanned him, he strode forward to meet her.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded, his voice taut with fury. ‘Why did you go out without Fico when I expressly forbade you to? Why did you disobey me?’

  Several hours of walking about in the hot sunshine had left Jess feeling exhausted, but as she was subjected to Drago’s verbal attack she forgot her tiredness and her temper simmered.

  ‘You forbade me! I disobeyed you! Listen to yourself, Drago. They are not the words of a husband to his wife—at least not in any marriage I want to be part of. Why shouldn’t I go out on my own? I only went to Murano to visit the glassblowers’ workshops. What harm is there in that?’

  She suddenly became aware that they were not alone. Several of the staff had been drawn to the hall by the sound of raised voices, and Fico was shifting from foot to foot, looking as though he would rather be anywhere but witnessing her argument with Drago.

  ‘I am not going to stand here and allow you to harangue me in front of the staff,’ she muttered, and she raced towards the staircase.

  ‘Come back here.’ Drago was beside her in an instant, and kept pace with her as she marched up the stairs.

  When they reached the landing he scooped her into his arms and, ignoring her furious protest, strode into the suite of rooms they had shared since she had arrived at the palazzo.

  ‘I’ll tell you what harm there is in you jaunting off alone,’ he growled, as he carried her through to the bedroom and dropped her onto the bed so hard that she bounced on the mattress. Before she could even think of trying to get up he leaned over her, imprisoning her against the satin bed cover. ‘I am one of the wealthiest men in Italy. I attract a lot of media attention. And now that you are my fiancée, so do you,’ he told her bitingly. ‘Ever since a photo of us leaving Trattoria Marisa was published on the front page of several newspapers you have been at risk of being kidnapped by criminal gangs who would demand a huge ransom for your release. That is why Fico sticks to your side like glue.’

  Jess swallowed, shaken not just by his words but by the intensity in his black eyes that told her the threat of kidnap was a very real and frightening possibility. ‘I didn’t think,’ she whispered.

  ‘It seems to be a persistent theme with you,’ he said sardonically. He jerked away from her as if he could not bear to be near her. ‘And I see you’re not wearing your engagement ring again.’

  Anger burned like acid in Drago’s gut as he stared at her, sprawled on the bed, with her glorious hair spread across the satin bedspread. Wearing a simple white sundress that had rucked up to reveal her slim thighs, she was a beguiling mixture of innocence and earthy sensuality, and the idea that she would have attracted much male interest while she wandered around Venice filled him with rage.

  ‘Did you go out without your ring so that you could flirt with other men?’ he demanded savagely. ‘Do I need to remind you that you are carrying my child?’

  Stunned to see streaks of colour run along Drago’s cheekbones, Jess shook her head. That could not be jealousy she had heard in his voice, she told herself. ‘Of course I didn’t go out to meet other men. And being sick constantly is enough of a reminder that I’m pregnant,’ she said drily. ‘I’m not used to wearing jewellery, and I find my ring a bit cumbersome for everyday wear, so I thought I would just put it on for social events.’

  Realising the effort Jess was making
to be tactful about the engagement ring that he had already guessed she did not like, Drago felt his anger fade. Most women he knew would love to own a diamond the size of a rock, but Jess was different from any other woman he’d ever met, he acknowledged wryly.

  ‘Have you any idea how worried I was when Fico told me you had disappeared?’ he asked raggedly. ‘Dio, I was scared. you had had an accident, or been taken ill.’ He closed his eyes as memories of rushing to the hospital with Vittoria flooded his mind. ‘Why did you go off like that?’

  Jess bit her lip, overcome with guilt that her irresponsible behaviour had caused Drago to look so haggard. She knew how concerned he was for the baby.

  ‘I needed some space. I’m used to being independent,’ she mumbled. ‘It has struck me in the last couple of days that Italy is going to be my home once we are married. I love Venice, but I miss London,’ she admitted. ‘You probably find it hard to understand, but I like running T&J Decorators, and I miss Mike and Gaz and the other guys I used to work with. I don’t have a life of my own or friends in Venice. I especially miss my workshop and being able to do my wood-carving. You’re smothering me,’ she said in low tone. ‘I understand that your interest—obsession, even—with my pregnancy is because you are concerned for the baby. But I’m not an invalid. Pregnancy is a perfectly natural state.’

  ‘Unless something goes wrong,’ Drago said harshly. ‘I have witnessed how devastating the consequences can be if there is a problem during pregnancy. If I have been obsessive, it is because I want to do everything possible to take care of you and the baby.’

  His jaw clenched and his voice roughened with emotion as he stated flatly, ‘It is something that I bitterly regret I did not do for my first child.’