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The Italian's One-Night Consequence

Page 16

by Cathy Williams


  ‘Scintillating...sexy...’

  ‘Egotistical...untidy...terrible at cooking... The memory of that steak you cooked for me last week will live on in my head for ever...’

  ‘Hey! That last one’s going too far!’ Leo burst out laughing. When he’d sobered up, he said, seriously, ‘I would get down on one knee, Maddie, but I’m already sitting. Will you marry me? For the right reasons? Because I love you and need you and can’t live without you?’

  ‘Just try and stop me!’

  Maddie flung her arms round his neck. She was living her own fairy tale. Whoever said that they couldn’t come true?

  * * *

  The wedding was low-key. They both wanted to exchange vows before the baby was born, so less than three months later a very pregnant Maddie walked up the aisle in a picturesque church on the outskirts of Dublin.

  Leo’s grandfather, beaming with pride, was in attendance, accompanied by a female friend whom, he confided to Maddie, he had been seeing ‘off and on’ for over a year and a half.

  ‘I’ve never mentioned it to Leo,’ he said, ‘because I’m an old fool, and you know how matter-of-fact that grandson of mine can be. Didn’t want him pooh-poohing the whole thing. But all that’s changed, thanks to you, my dear. The minute I met you I knew that you were the one who was going to change him for the better. No, maybe better isn’t the word I’m looking for—because no one could ever accuse Leo of being anything but an honourable man. Maybe change him for the softer, if that makes any sense.’

  Maddie didn’t tell him that there hadn’t been that much to change after all, because there had been a softie buried deep down all the time.

  By now she had made friends in Dublin. Other mums-to-be, several members of staff at the store, who were all now energised as the store finally began to pay dividends.

  It had been a two-pronged effort—one that had been shared between her and Leo. She had listened to his ideas for introducing a dedicated electronics department, which was loosely based on his original idea for what he had intended to do with the store, but scaled down considerably. In time, he would source a suitable location and expand operations there. He had given way to her with the rest. She had laughed when he’d suggested lending a hand when it came to choosing sexy lingerie for the women’s department.

  ‘It would definitely work,’ he had murmured one evening, when they’d both been warm and sated and wrapped round one another in bed after some very satisfying lovemaking, ‘if you try on each sample piece for me to inspect...’

  The store had brought them together and now, for Maddie, it was something special—something more than just concrete and stone—and it would be for ever. She quietly hoped, and so did Leo, that it would be a legacy they would be able to pass down to their children, and their children’s children, that its story would be told over and over until it became the backdrop to their lives. A very happy and wonderful story, despite its inauspicious beginnings.

  There were no relatives for her at the small wedding—no brothers or sisters or aunts or uncles—but Maddie didn’t mind. She had the most important person in the world there. She was marrying the man who had spotted her once upon a time in a store she had been battling to hang on to, and the rest, as he fondly told her, was history.

  After the wedding they went on a flying honeymoon to a five-star hotel in Cornwall, and they had a wonderful time in driving rain and under heavy grey skies, wrapped up in woollens, as happy holding hands there as if they’d been on the most expensive trip to the Maldives.

  ‘When the baby comes and you can travel comfortably,’ Leo promised, ‘we’re going to go sailing down the Grenadines. Until then...’ he looked up at the leaden skies and grinned ‘...we’re going to enjoy the wonderful English countryside in typical English weather. It’ll stand me in good stead for when we move out to the country.’

  Having done up her grandfather’s house to the highest possible standard, Maddie found herself reluctant to live there.

  ‘I can forgive my grandfather for the sin of pride,’ she’d admitted, ‘but I can’t forget. And I’ll always wonder what life would have been like for me and Mum if he’d just relented and forgiven her for running away.’

  ‘Too arrogant and too stubborn,’ Leo had murmured. ‘Those were traits he had even as a young man, according to my grandfather, and they probably became out of control the older he got and the lonelier he became. And don’t forget he was gambling and drinking heavily. Those two things would have turned his brain to mush and wreaked havoc on his ability to think clearly.’

  So they’d found a lovely little house, close to the very church where they’d married. And, of course, there was Leo’s London place, which was every bit as luxurious as she remembered. But Dublin, he confessed, had grown on him.

  Flora Madison Conti was born three days after her due date with no fuss at all.

  Dark-haired and green-eyed, she was sweet-natured and, within hours of coming into the world, already the apple of her father’s eye.

  Their real honeymoon, taken when Flora was a little over three months old, was as perfect as anything Maddie could have hoped for, and made all the better when she received news that the store, for the first time in over a decade, had shown a profit.

  Maddie thought that if only her mother could have seen her she would have been bursting with pride that her daughter had married for love—and also highly amused that Maddie was now in charge of the very store from which she had once been exiled.

  Now, with Flora asleep, Maddie was in the kitchen in their beautiful little house, with her very domesticated alpha male husband due back at any second.

  She heard the key in the lock and the sound of the door opening and her heart skipped a beat. Leo never failed to command her attention.

  He strode in and smiled as his dark eyes rested on her. Sitting there, with her long toffee-coloured hair swept over one shoulder and her golden skin glowing, she was the very picture of everything any man could ever hope for.

  He was lucky, and he knew that he was. He had resigned himself to a life without love and he couldn’t believe how naïve he had been in thinking that he could ever have been happy in a union that was devoid of it.

  ‘Flora asleep, my darling?’

  ‘She is...’ Maddie stood up and walked towards him, and with every step closer her pulse raced faster and her pupils dilated. She felt the push of her breasts against her bra. ‘And I’ve cooked us something special.’

  ‘Tell me I haven’t forgotten a special day... The anniversary of the first time you thought I was a wandering explorer...? Or maybe of the first time you realised that you were head over heels in love with the only man you’ll ever need...?’

  He grinned and pulled her to him, kissed her with lingering thoroughness.

  ‘Sweet,’ he murmured. ‘Like nectar. Now, this special meal...will it wait?’

  ‘Leo...!’

  But Maddie giggled and tingled as he unhooked her bra and cupped her breast in his hand as though weighing it.

  ‘Is that a plea for sex? Because if it is, then your wish is my command.’

  ‘Is that all you think about?’

  ‘It’s all I’ve been thinking about since about...oh...three this afternoon. Highly inappropriate, given that I was in a high-level meeting at the time.’ He stood back and looked at her, his beautiful eyes tender and serious. ‘But I think about other things too. I think about how much I love being married to you and how bloody happy you make me. I think about how much I’m looking forward to growing old with you and sharing my life with you. And I think about my stunning little baby girl.’

  ‘That’s a lot of thinking for a top businessman like you,’ Maddie said, and laughed.

  ‘And that’s not all I’ve been thinking about...’ Leo murmured as they headed up the stairs to their bedroom suite, which was next to the nursery where
Flora was fast asleep.

  ‘No?’ She was breathless as they entered the bedroom and he quietly shut the door behind them, not bothering to switch on the lights.

  She began undoing the buttons of his shirt until it was open, and then she rubbed his flat brown nipple with the pad of her thumb, making him shudder at the delicate touch. When she rested her hand on the bulging erection pushing against his trousers, he stifled a moan.

  ‘Tell me what else you’ve been thinking about...’ She guided his hand to her loose skirt and then encouraged him to explore further, to touch her under the floaty fabric, through her lacy underwear, to feel her wetness on his fingers.

  ‘You mean aside from what you want me to do to you right now?’

  On cue, he slipped his big hand under her knickers and began rubbing between her legs with the flat of his hand. He wasn’t in any rush to take things faster just yet. He kept on rubbing, before slipping a finger deep into her, loving the way her muscles contracted at the intimate contact.

  ‘Keep that up and I won’t remember what it is we’re talking about,’ Maddie panted unevenly.

  ‘Okay...’ Leo slid his finger to find the nub of her core and transferred his attention there. ‘Here’s what I’ve been thinking. What about making another baby, my darling? Right now?’

  Maddie giggled and sighed and looked at him from under her lashes, her whole body on fire as he continued to devastate her senses with his finger.

  ‘And that’s why I adore you,’ she breathed. ‘You can read my mind...’

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed THE ITALIAN’S ONE-NIGHT CONSEQUENCE by Cathy Williams, you’re sure to enjoy these other ONE NIGHT WITH CONSEQUENCES stories!

  CROWNED FOR THE SHEIKH’S BABY

  by Sharon Kendrick

  THE SHEIKH’S SHOCK CHILD

  by Susan Stephens

  PRINCESS’S PREGNANCY SECRET

  by Natalie Anderson

  CONSEQUENCE OF HIS REVENGE

  by Dani Collins

  Available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from TYCOON’S RING OF CONVENIENCE by Julia James.

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  Tycoon’s Ring of Convenience

  by Julia James

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE WOMAN IN the looking glass was beautiful. Fair hair, drawn back into an elegant chignon from a fine-boned face, luminous grey eyes enhanced with expensive cosmetics, lips outlined with subtle colour. At the lobes of her ears and around her throat pearls shimmered.

  For several long moments she continued to stare, unblinking. Then abruptly she got to her feet and turned, the long skirts of her evening gown swishing as she headed to the bedroom door. She could delay no longer. Nikos did not care to be kept waiting.

  Into her head, in the bleak reality of her life now, came the words of a saying that was constantly there.

  ‘“Take what you want,” says God. “Take it and pay for it.”’

  She swallowed as she headed downstairs to her waiting husband. Well, she had taken what she’d wanted. And she was paying for it. Oh, how she was paying for it...

  Six months previously

  ‘You do realise, Diana, that with probate now completed and your financial situation clearly impossible, you have no option but to sell.’

  Diana felt her hands clench in her lap, but did not reply.

  The St Clair family lawyer went on. ‘It won’t reach top price, obviously, because of its poor condition, but you should clear enough to enable you to live pretty decently. I’ll contact the agents and set the wheels in motion.’

  Gerald Langley smiled in a way that she supposed he thought encouraging.

  ‘I suggest that you take a holiday. I know it’s been a very difficult time for you. Your father’s accident, his progressive decline after his injuries—and then his death—’

  He might have saved his breath. A stony expression had tautened Diana’s face. ‘I’m not selling.’

  Gerald frowned at the obduracy in her voice. ‘Diana, you must face facts,’ he retorted, his impatience audible. ‘You may have sufficient income from shares and other investments to cope with the normal running and maintenance costs of Greymont, or even to find the capital for the repairs your father thought were necessary, but this latest structural survey you commissioned after he died shows that the repairs urgently needed—that cannot be deferred or delayed—are far more extensive than anyone realised. You simply do not have the funds for it—not after death duties. Let alone for the decorative work on the interior. Nor are there any art masterpieces you can sell—your grandfather disposed of most of them to pay his own death duties, and your father sold everything else to pay his.’

  He drew a breath,

  ‘So, outside of an extremely unlikely lottery win,’ he said, and there was a trace of condescension now, ‘your only other option would be to find some extremely rich man with exceptionally deep pockets and marry him.’

  He let his bland gaze rest on her for a second, then resumed his original thread.

  ‘As I say, I will get in touch with the agents, and—’

  His expression changed to one of surprise. His client was getting to her feet.

  ‘Please don’t trouble yourself, Gerald.’ Diana’s voice was as clipped as his. She picked up her handbag and made her way to the office door.

  Behind her she heard Gerald standing up. ‘Diana—what are you doing? There is a great deal more to discuss.’

  She paused, turning with her hand on the door handle. Her gaze on him was unblinking. But behind her expressionless face emotions were scything through her. She would never consent to losing her beloved home. Never! It meant everything to her. To sell it would be a betrayal of her centuries-old ancestry and a betrayal of her father, of the sacrifice he’d made for her.

  Greymont, she knew with another stabbing emotion, had provided the vital security and stability she’d needed so much as a child, coping with the trauma of her mother’s desertion of her father, of herself... Whatever it might take to keep Greymont, she would do it.

  Whatever it took.

  There was no trace of those vehement emotions as she spoke. ‘There is nothing more to discuss, Gerald. And as for what I am going to do—isn’t it obvious?’

  She paused minutely, then said it.

  ‘I’m going to find an extremely rich man to marry.’

  * * *

  Nikos Tramontes stood on the ba
lcony of his bedroom in his luxurious villa on the Cote d’Azur, flexing his broad shoulders, looking down at Nadya, who was swimming languorously in the pool below.

  Once he had enjoyed watching her—for Nadya Serensky was one of the most outstandingly beautiful of the current batch of celebrity supermodels, and Nikos had enjoyed being the man with exclusive access to her. It had sent a clear signal to the world that he had arrived—had acquired the huge wealth that a woman like Nadya required in her favoured men.

  But now, two years on, her charms were wearing thin, and no amount of her pointing out what a fantastic couple they made—she with her trademark flaming red hair, him with his six-foot frame to match hers, and the darkly saturnine looks that drew as many female eyes as her spectacular looks drew male eyes—could make them less stale. Worse, she was now hinting—blatantly and persistently—that they should marry.

  Even if he had not been growing tired of her, there would be no point marrying Nadya—it would bring him nothing that he did not already have with her.

  Now he wanted more than her flame-haired beauty, her celebrity status. He wanted to move on in his life, yet again. Achieve his next goal.

  Nadya had been a trophy mistress, celebrating his arrival in the plutocracy of the world—but now what he wanted was a trophy wife. A wife who would complete what he had sought all his life.

  His expression darkened, as it always did when his thoughts turned to memories. His acquisition of vast wealth and all the trappings that went with it—from this villa on exclusive Cap Pierre to having one of the world’s most beautiful and famous faces in his bed, and all the other myriad luxuries of his life—had been only the first step in his transformation from being the unwanted, misbegotten ‘embarrassing inconvenience’ of his despised parents.

  Parents who had conceived him in the selfish carelessness of an adulterous affair, discarding him the moment he was born, farming him out to foster parents—denying he had anything to do with them.

  Well, he would prove them wrong. Prove that he could achieve by his own efforts what they had denied him.

 

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