Surrendering to the Vengeful Italian

by Angela Bissell

  Leo stared at the strong, stubborn, beautiful woman who had ignored every one of his calls these last eight days and driven him to the brink of despair. The smile he gave was tortured.

  ‘Aside from spending every waking hour wanting to know where you are, who you’re with, what you’re doing...and whether or not you are thinking of me?’ He brushed away the lone tear that rolled down her cheek. ‘I’ve been a fool and a coward, cara. Paralysed by fear.’

  ‘Fear?’

  He touched his forehead to hers. ‘Fear that I couldn’t be the man you deserve. The kind of man you can depend on.’ He lifted his head. ‘I failed you, cara.’

  Her brow pleated. ‘How?’

  ‘Seven years ago I sent you away because I was angry and hurt, my pride wounded. I refused to give you a second chance, and because of that I wasn’t there when you needed me.’

  ‘Oh, Leo...’ She laid her palm along his jaw. ‘That’s not on you. I should have found you and told you I was pregnant but I wasn’t brave enough—and that was my bad, not yours. You deserved to know and I denied you that.’ Her mouth trembled, her eyes searching his. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’

  He shook his head. ‘There is nothing to forgive. We have both made mistakes.’ He offered up another smile, this one crooked. Rueful. ‘I believe it is called being human.’

  Two more tears slipped down her cheeks. He brushed each one away.

  ‘We can’t change our history,’ she said. ‘Undo our mistakes. What if you can’t trust—?’

  He laid his finger over her lips, then took her hand and pressed her palm to his chest. ‘Il mio cuore ѐ solo tuo.’ When she blinked, he translated. ‘My heart is yours.’ He punctuated the statement with a gentle kiss. ‘There is nothing more valuable I can entrust to you. And I promise you this, tesoro. You will never have to fight for my love.’

  The way she’d had to fight for her father’s.

  ‘It is yours. Unconditionally. Tell me it is enough,’ he demanded. ‘Tell me—’

  His command went unfinished. Because Helena cut him off with a kiss. A sudden, fierce, full-on-the-mouth kiss that smashed the breath from his lungs and caused an explosion of heat in his blood. He groaned. She tasted of heaven. Warm, sweet—a taste he wouldn’t tire of for as long as he lived.

  When she finally pulled back they were both panting for breath. Her eyes were moist, her smile shaky but wide. ‘It’s enough, my darling,’ she said. ‘It’s enough.’

  She pressed her face into his throat and they stayed like that for long, contented minutes. Then he eased her back and let his gaze rove her face, her body. Hell. He loved the yellow dress. Bright. Bold. A little bit cheeky. It was the girl he remembered. The one he hoped was back for good. The one whose blue eyes sparkled now with a hint of mischief.

  Her smile was coy. Sexy. ‘I think my mother will be gone for at least an hour.’

  Leo responded with a wolfish grin, sealed their future with a scorching kiss, and then set about demonstrating one of the many ways in which he planned to love his woman.

  EPILOGUE

  One year later...

  HELENA PRISED THE lids off the two test pots of paint and smiled at the colours. The first, Sugar and Spice, was a gorgeous lilac with a pretty shimmer. The second, Surf’s Up, was a deep purple-blue.

  Neither colour was the one she’d originally planned for this sunny room on the second floor of the Tuscan villa, but when she’d started her flurry of redecorating she’d imagined the room as a studio. A dedicated space where she could work on her projects for the interior design course she’d undertaken and, in her downtime, dabble in creative pursuits.

  She’d even thought she might try her hand at painting some landscapes under Marietta’s expert tutelage. The Tuscan countryside, with its sun-drenched hills, fragrant orchards and acres of lush vegetation, offered no shortage of inspiration.

  She and Leo spent most of their weekends here, escaping the bustle of London or Rome. It was calming, rejuvenating, and she wondered how he would feel about the villa becoming their more permanent home.

  Her mobile whistled, indicating a text message, and she rose from the canvas sheet on the floor. Leo was en route from Rome, and he’d already texted to say he wanted her naked when he arrived. They’d been apart only two nights, but according to her husband of six months that was two nights too long.

  She rarely came to the villa by herself, but she’d needed to organise some tradesmen and their short separation had given her some time alone. Time to absorb the news that made her tummy flutter with a mix of excitement and nerves every time she anticipated the moment she would tell Leo.

  She swiped the screen of her phone. His message said he was thirty minutes out and—Heat flooded her as she read the rest.

  She grinned, shaking her head. Her husband was wicked. And sexy. And she loved him with every atom of her being.

  Half an hour later the crunch of gravel and the low purr of the Maserati’s engine heralded his arrival.

  Pulse leaping, Helena put down her brush and leaned out of the open window. Leo climbed from the car and she waved to him.

  ‘Up here!’

  He looked up, late-afternoon sunlight bathing his bronzed features, and she knew she’d never get used to him smiling at her like that. As if she was his favourite person in the entire world.

  He disappeared into the house and she heard his footsteps thunder up the curved staircase.

  She barely had time to run her fingers through her dishevelled hair before she was in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, her breath stolen by his ferocious kiss.

  ‘Dio,’ he growled when he broke for air. ‘You are beautiful.’

  She laughed. ‘Hardly.’ Her curls were a wild mess, not a trace of make-up adorned her face, and she wore the old short denim dungarees she kept for painting and decorating.

  ‘Do not argue, tesoro.’ Still holding her high, he started out of the room. ‘And—speaking of disobedience—did I not request my wife be naked when I arrived?’

  She giggled and squirmed. ‘Leo, wait. Put me down. I have something to show you first.’

  He stopped and gave a pained sigh, but did as she’d bade him. Heart thudding, she led him by the hand to the section of wall where she’d painted a large square of Sugar and Spice and another of Surf’s Up.

  ‘What do you think of these colours?’

  He shrugged. ‘You know I trust your choices...’ He glanced around the room and frowned. ‘But this is to be your studio, si? Had you not decided on orange?’

  ‘I thought we might use this room for something else,’ she said, and moved closer to the wall. She pointed to the shimmery lilac. ‘I was thinking this might be nice for a...a girl. And this one...’ She pointed to the other square, her hand trembling, her throat tightening on the words. ‘This would be good for...for a boy.’

  Her breath stopped as she watched the rapidly changing expressions on Leo’s face. From bemusement to confusion and finally a dawning comprehension.

  He stared at her, his jaw gone slack. ‘Are you telling me...? Do you mean...? Are you...?’

  ‘I’m pregnant,’ she blurted, taking pity on her gorgeous tongue-tied husband. She blinked, her eyes growing hot and prickly. ‘Seven weeks—’

  She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Leo pulled her into a hug so tight, so engulfing, she couldn’t draw breath to speak. He broke into a string of Italian she partly followed, thanks to months of lessons. Mentally, she translated the words she understood.

  Incredible...so happy... I love you.

  At last he pulled back, his hands curling gently over her shoulders—as if she might suddenly break.

  ‘How do you feel? Do you need to rest instead of...?’ His voice trailed off, a deep furrow creasing his brow.

  ‘I’m good,’ she assured him.

  ‘Are you sure—?’

  ‘Leo.’ She took his strong, familiar jaw between her hands and gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I promise you I
’m one hundred per cent healthy.’

  But she understood his sudden caution, the dark glimmer of anxiety in his eyes. Beneath her own excitement lay a shadow of apprehension. A fear that she would lose this child as she had lost Lucas.

  But even that flicker of fear could not eclipse her joy or hope for the future.

  Because this time she was not alone. This time she had Leo by her side. This time, whatever ups and downs life had in store, they would face them as one.

  * * *

  He was perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, a fine thatch of black hair and the loudest, gustiest cry the nurses said they’d ever heard from a newborn.

  Not for the first time since his son’s miraculous arrival into the world two hours ago, Leo thought his chest might explode from the torrent of emotions coursing through him. Pride. Elation. Relief. And, of course, love. So much love it threatened to overwhelm him.

  It had certainly stolen his ability to find words for such a momentous occasion. To tell his beautiful, incredible wife in the wake of her ten-hour labour how proud he was of her. Of their son.

  He looked up from the tiny bundle in his arms. Despite the rings of exhaustion around her eyes Helena was radiant, her glow of happiness reflecting his own. He shifted on the edge of the hospital bed and gently laid their son in her arms.

  For a long moment he stared at the woman and child he would spend the rest of his days loving, supporting, protecting. ‘I love you.’ He dropped a kiss on her mouth, another on his son’s downy head. ‘I love you both.’

  ‘I love you, too.’ She smiled at him through her tears. ‘No regrets?’

  He looked at his sleeping son—the most amazing sight in the world—then back to his beautiful wife.

  He smiled. ‘None.’

  * * * * *

  EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT

  Hotel magnate Nate Brunswick’s faith in marriage has been destroyed by his father – but searching for his beloved grandfather’s lost ring leads the illegitimate Di Sione to an inconvenient engagement! Mina Mastrantino can only pass the ring on once she’s married. A divorce should be easy…but their exquisite wedding night gives them both far more than they planned!

  Read on for a sneak preview of

  A DEAL FOR THE DI SIONE RING

  by Jennifer Hayward

  “You’re an honorable man, Nate Brunswick. Grazie.”

  “Not so honorable, Mina.” A dark glitter entered his eyes. “You called me improper not so long ago. I can be that and more. I am a hard, ruthless businessman who does what it takes to make money. I will turn a hotel over in the flash of an eye if I don’t see the flesh on the bones I envisioned when I bought it. I will enjoy a woman one night and send her packing the next when I get bored of her company. Know what you’re getting into with me if you accept this. You will learn the dog-eat-dog approach to life, not the civilized one.”

  Why did something that was intended to be a warning send a curious shudder through her? Mina drew the wrap closer around her shoulders, her gaze tangling with Nate’s. The glitter in his eyes stoked to a hot, velvet shimmer as he took a step forward and ran a finger along the line of her jaw. “Rule number one of this new arrangement, should you so choose to accept it, is to not look at me like that, wife. If we do this, we keep things strictly business so both of us walk away after the year with exactly what we want.”

  Her gaze fell away from his, her blood hot and thick in her veins. “You’re misinterpreting me.”

  “No, I’m not.” He brought his mouth to her ear, his warm breath caressing her cheek. “I have a hell of a lot more experience than you do, Mina. I can recognize the signs. They were loud and clear in my hotel room that day and they’re loud and clear now.”

  She took a deep, shuddering breath. To protest further would be futile when her skin felt like it was on fire, her knees like jelly. He watched her like a cat played with a mouse, all powerful and utterly sure of himself. “The only thing that would be more of a disaster than this day’s already been,” he drawled finally, apparently ready to have mercy on her, “would be for us to end up in bed together. So a partnership it is, Mina.” He lifted his glass. “What do you say?”

  Don’t miss

  A DEAL FOR THE DI SIONE RING

  by Jennifer Hayward

  Available January 2017

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  Copyright © 2016 by Mills & Boon

  Congratulations

  Sharon Kendrick

  on your 100th Mills & Boon book!

  Read on for an exclusive extract

  ‘Rafe?’ she said uncertainly, but he silenced her with a shake of his head.

  ‘Come here,’ he said, his voice a sudden growl.

  She knew he was going to kiss her even before he pulled her against him, against the hard wet planes of his muscular body. She could feel her breasts being crushed against his bare chest and the warmth of his breath just before he crushed her lips beneath his. Her eyelids fluttered to a close as he deepened the kiss and his thumb flicked over the wet stud of her hardening nipple through her swimsuit, making her moan with disbelief that something could feel this good. Because nobody had ever touched her before. Not like this. He slid his hand further down, before letting his fingertips skim over her belly and she wriggled impatiently, wanting him to touch her where she was hot and molten. Made weightless by the water, her thighs parted as if her body was programmed to know exactly how to respond and she sucked in another disbelieving breath as he slipped aside the panel of her swimsuit and pushed his finger deep inside her.

  ‘Rafe,’ she gasped against his lips, writhing her hips against him. ‘Oh, Rafe.’

  Her breathless use of his name seemed to break the erotic spell and when he pulled his hand away she immediately found herself wanting his finger right back where it had been. His eyes were unreadable in the moonlight and his features were harder than she’d ever seen them—his cheekbones two taut slashes against the obvious tension in his face.

  ‘I want to have sex with you,’ he said unsteadily. ‘And clearly you feel exactly the same way. But there are a few things you need to understand.’

  Her heart was thundering so loudly she felt as if she might faint. ‘What kind of things?’

  ‘You’re staff,’ he said bluntly. ‘And I don’t usually sleep with employees.’

  ‘Oh.’ There was a pause as she licked some of the chorine off her lips. ‘Well, I guess that’s honest, at least.’

  ‘I’m nothing if not honest, Sophie,’ he said. ‘And if we’re going to do this, it has to be on my terms.’

  She met his gaze. ‘What terms are they?’

  ‘One night. That’s all,’ he told her, his gaze raking over her. ‘No more. No dates. No promises. No happy ever after or follow-up emails. No Christmas present or surprise ticket to New York. And you certainly won’t be getting love because I don’t do love. I’m out of here tomorrow and it’s goodbye. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  Sophie bit her tingling lips as she considered his question. She was caught in the perfect storm of moonlight and desire and opportunity, even though the voice of common sense was urging her to get out while she still could.

  But hadn’t she always played by the rules and done what was ‘right’? And look where it had got her. Deserted by the Prince her people adored and left a laughing stock. She had been placed on a pedestal from the moment of her birth. She was the Princess. People could look but they could never, ever touch. But Rafe had touched. She stared at him. Rafe didn’t have a clue who she really was and he didn’t care. All she could see was desire in his eyes and a hard, tense body which was calling out to her on the most primitive level of all. He wanted her. Not Princess Sophie. Just Sophie. More than that, she wanted him. Not the billionaire in his shiny helicopter but the elemental man who was making her feel like a real woman for the first time in her life. Him. Rafe Carter.

  ‘I understand,’ she said quietly.


  His wet brow furrowed into a frown. ‘Just like that?’

  ‘Exactly like that.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I want exactly the same thing as you do, Rafe. One night. No strings.’

  A ROYAL VOW OF CONVENIENCE

  by Sharon Kendrick

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  Copyright ©2016 by Sharon Kendrick

  ISBN: 978-1-474-04455-4

  SURRENDERING TO THE VENGEFUL ITALIAN

  © 2016 Angela Bissell

  Published in Great Britain 2016

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

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