The Italian Billionaire’s Nubian Queen (BWWM Romance Book 1)

by Ellie Etienne

  The Italian Billionaire’s Nubian Queen

  Will her passion for wine lead her to the man of her dreams?

  A sexy marriage romance by Ellie Etienne of BWWM Club.

  Alyssa Benjamin owns a small wine shop and is passionate about the industry.

  So when she is invited to an event in Napa hosted by Italian billionaire Matteo Colombo she is thrilled!

  Matteo has made a name for himself in the wine industry thanks to his father’s family-owned company…

  But his father has an ultimatum: Matteo will lose his inheritance unless he has an heir by the time he’s thirty-five!

  Yet when Matteo meets Alyssa, he knows he doesn’t need to wait that long and begins to pursue her.

  But Alyssa doesn’t believe in love at first sight, and although they find passion with each other, she can do nothing else but push him away.

  Can Mateo prove to Alyssa that they’re meant for each other?

  Or will this be what it takes for him to stop believing in fate?

  Find out in this emotional yet sexy romance by Ellie Etienne of BWWM Club.

  Suitable for over 18s only due to sex scenes so hot, you'll need your own handsome Italian billionaire!

  Tip: Search BWWM Club on Amazon to see more of our great books.

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  Copyright © 2018 to Ellie Etienne and AfroRomanceBooks.com. No part of this book can be copied or distributed without written permission from the above copyright holders.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

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  Chapter 1

  “Make up your mind, Bree!”

  Alyssa Benjamin waited, knowing that Brianna would not make up her mind. Choosing the right wine for dinner with mom was a big deal.

  “Mom did say she was going to the docks to get fish, didn’t she?”

  Alyssa nodded.

  “That’s what she said this morning when she called me.”

  “Can’t you pick, Aly? You’re so much better at this than I am!” Brianna wrung her hands a little helplessly.

  Alyssa shook her head at her sister, Brianna was a year older than she was, but it often felt like Alyssa was the big sister.

  “You know that’s not true. You know as much about wine and what mom likes as I do. What’s wrong, Bree? You always have trouble making up your mind but… tell me what’s wrong.”

  Brianna smiled, but now that Alyssa knew what to look for, she could see the worry and the distress.

  “It’s nothing, of course. There’s nothing wrong.”

  “Bree, I can see…”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Aly! I just want to get this right!”

  Alyssa knew better than to push her sister.

  “All right. Well, then, if mom got fish, and it’s a nice spring evening, why don’t we get a Friulano? Let me see, right here, we have a nice Sauvignon Vert. This will do, I think. Let me just make a note and we’re good to go.”

  “Okay. Okay, that sounds good. Thanks, Aly.”

  “Sure, not a problem. Is there anything mom said she wanted?”

  Brianna shook her head, and she looked so sad that Alyssa wondered how she could possibly have missed it before. Of course something was bothering her sister. But Brianna got to things in her own time. Alyssa might appreciate every subtle note in a good Italian wine, but subtlety wasn't something she had much use for in her life. She'd try to be patient. Except patience wasn’t exactly her strong suit, either.

  “Great, so let’s go and see what drama mom has for us today.”

  “Come on, mom isn’t that bad.”

  “Mom isn't bad at all. I love her. But you have to admit that she always has church drama. You know, I think she should date more often. When’s the last time she got involved with a guy?”

  “Don’t go there, Aly.”

  “Why not? She’s always on my case about getting a man. I think it’s only fair that we get on her case to get a man, too. You have a better chance of getting away with it, you have a man.”

  Brianna’s smile became fixed and her cheek muscles twitched a bit. Alyssa bit her tongue. There was no point asking, not even if it was obvious, even if she really wanted to.

  “I hope mom isn’t trying a new recipe.”

  All right, if that’s what her sister needed, Alyssa would make inane conversation.

  “Should we get another bottle in case she does? Maybe we should. Why not? Two bottles! Let’s have fun tonight, just the girls. Remember how mom used to insist on girl’s night every week and we had to juggle our calendars for it? We weren’t allowed to go out after dinner and we had to stay home and watch a movie. Or read a book, or play games.”

  “We whined about it, but mom knew what she was talking about,” commented Brianna. Alyssa nodded, glad to let the conversation steer towards old memories for a while as she closed up and they got ready to leave.

  Alyssa didn’t mind admitting to a moment of sheer pride as she closed up. Her shop was her pride and joy. It was everything she'd worked for, and she had her mother to thank for a lot of it.

  Chantelle Benjamin had had a rough start in life, and she’d had more rough patches than seemed fair, but she lived with her head held high and believed in making no compromises in what she expected from life. Alyssa couldn’t think of anybody she admired more than their mother, even if a little of Chantelle could go a long way when they disagreed.

  Their mother had given them the education and the opportunities to appreciate the finer things in life, and that included fine wines. Specifically, Italian wines, for every occasion–table wines that were meant for every meal, special wines for special occasions, Superiore or Riserva for the most special of occasions. They’d opened a Chianti Classico when Brianna had announced that she was engaged, and they’d had a girl’s night, watching movies, talking about the old days, and new days.

  “Bree,” began Alyssa as she drove, “nothing’s wrong, is it?”

  “Of course nothing’s wrong, Aly. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because you look like shit, Bree.”

  “Gee, thanks. That’s exactly what I need to hear.”

  “You can’t stop looking like shit unless you fix whatever’s wrong, and you know we sort shit out together. So why don’t you just tell me?”

  Brianna’s obstinate silence filled the Volvo Alyssa drove—because it was practical and she could use it to cart cases of wine around if she had to. Which she had to, very often, because she'd made the passion her mother had instilled in her into a career. She was now a professional.

  Alyssa tried to wait Brianna out. That was what worked best on her. But then that needed patience, and Alyssa had always been a little short on that. Still, she tried, glancing at her sister and wondering how
much longer it would take.

  They looked alike enough to be mistaken for twins occasionally. Brianna’s thick black hair was cut and styled perfectly in a bob that skimmed her cheeks, ruthlessly straightened into submission. Alyssa had always preferred to be a little easier on her hair, so she had curls that tumbled down to her shoulder. Brianna had tried telling her sister that it was just a bit too unprofessional to go to meetings with her hair looking like that, but Alyssa didn’t care. She was who she was. She was done making any apologies for it.

  Brianna showed no signs of talking. Alyssa gave up on the whole waiting thing and decided to be true to herself.

  “All right, you can tell me now what’s wrong or I can ask you about it when we get to mom’s. Your choice, Bree.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Why not? There’s nothing wrong, and you can just make me look like an idiot in front of mom.”

  “Damn it, Aly. You always have to get your way, don’t you? You don’t respect my personal space or my decisions or my choices.”

  “Cut the crap and tell me what’s going on, Bree. If you’re in trouble, I'll help. That’s what we do. We’re always on the same side, unless we’re playing Monopoly. Whoever put that look in your eyes is going to be destroyed. Now, just tell me who.”

  Brianna looked away, but only for a second.

  “Adam and I have been having a little trouble,” she admitted, finally.

  Alyssa nearly missed a turn.

  “What? Adam? And you? But he loves you. He’s loved you for years. Forever. He adores you. You love him. You’ve had your eye on him ever since senior year of high school, when he came to visit his aunt and you caught a glimpse of him! You can’t be having trouble.”

  “We are, all right?” snapped Brianna. “I don’t need you to make me feel worse about it. This is why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t want all of this judgment.”

  Alyssa bit her tongue good and hard.

  “Okay. All right, I’m sorry. Bree, I am sorry, I was just surprised. Do you want to tell me what kind of trouble? It’s okay if you don’t. I’m here for you. Just let me know what you need, and I’m here for you.”

  “Oh, so now you can respect my space.”

  “I’m sorry, Bree.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  “I don’t know how it all happened but it… I think Adam is having an affair, Aly. I think he’s having an affair with his secretary! I tried snooping but I…”

  “You’ve always been completely terrible at snooping.”

  “I guess so,” admitted Brianna, looking utterly dispirited. “So I asked him.”

  “What?”

  “I just asked him.”

  “Asked?”

  “All right, I accused him of sleeping with his secretary. No, his personal assistant. Different from a secretary. Or so they say.”

  “Wow, catty. Sorry, Bree. Sorry, that’s… What did he say?”

  “He didn’t deny it. He just called me crazy.”

  That put Alyssa’s hackles up. Nobody called her sister crazy except her!

  “So then what?”

  “He left on a business trip. With her.”

  “Seriously?”

  Alyssa thanked her stars that she wasn’t involved with anybody and set that aside. This was about her sister, not her.

  “Seriously. He just left. He didn’t deny it, Aly. He just didn’t deny it. He called me crazy and he left.”

  “Bree, I'm not trying to say you’re crazy at all, but why do you think he’s having an affair with his secretary? Personal assistant, I mean.”

  “I’d prefer to just call her the man-stealing slut, but I don’t think that’s a job description.”

  “Ouch.”

  “There have been… secrets. There were days when he said he had client meetings late in the evening, and he’d come home and be on the phone afterwards.”

  Alyssa considered that.

  “How does that point to an affair with the PA?”

  “I just know it. She’s been calling him all the time. And he changed his phone codes! He changed his passwords! We’ve always known each other’s passwords. Why would he do that if he wasn’t keeping secrets from me?”

  “I… Did you ask him for the passwords?”

  “I couldn’t. He accused me of being crazy and snooping and he left.”

  “Oh.”

  “We were going to have a baby. We’d finally decided to try.”

  “What? Bree, that’s… Oh.”

  “We’re obviously not going to anymore. He’s cheating on me.”

  “Bree, maybe you’re jumping to conclusions.”

  “Aly, do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be treated like that? I sit at home every evening waiting for him and he shuts me out of everything that goes on at work. He says he doesn’t want to bring work home. But he stays at work more and more. He lives at work more than he lives at home with me. His work life is taking over this one. This is just a small part of him now. I’m just such a small part of him now. It makes sense that he’s found a replacement for me in his other life. His real life.”

  Alyssa didn’t know what to say, so for once she kept quiet.

  “Don’t tell mom, okay? I don’t want her to try to help. And I don’t want you to try to help, either. It’s not like there’s anything you can do about it. If he’s chosen a life without me, then I’ll just have to learn how to live without him, too.”

  Brianna looked so completely heartbroken when she said it. Her eyes were dry, but everything about her was resigned, hopeless. It squeezed Alyssa’s heart. But her sister was right. She couldn’t help, not to solve these problems.

  Alyssa couldn’t be sure if Adam was stupid enough to have an affair but she could see that Adam had made Brianna unhappier than anybody had any right to, and for that, she didn’t think she could forgive him.

  What did it matter, really, if that unhappiness was from an affair or from being shut out of such a big part of his life? What mattered was that she'd never seen Brianna so miserable. Alyssa had to do something.

  “Come with me to California.”

  “What?”

  “Come with me. There’s that conference and convention, remember? I got an invitation this year. I’ve been coveting the damn thing for years, and I’ve finally made it. Some of the best wine-makers are going to be there, some of the best wines, and it’s going to be amazing. You’ll love it as much as I will. I can take a plus one. I want to take you. Let me take you.”

  “Who were you planning to take?”

  Alyssa shrugged as they turned into the driveway to their mother’s home. It had been their home for about a decade before they’d moved out, too, but it had always been Chantelle’s domain. Now that she had her own home, Alyssa didn’t resent it. Maybe she even understood.

  “Hadn’t really thought about it. I only got the invitation a couple of days ago and it’s been a crazy couple of days.”

  “Who, Aly?”

  “Nobody. I was thinking, maybe Liam wouldn’t mind…”

  “Alyssa!”

  “I know, okay? I know exactly how stupid an idea it is.”

  “He strung you along for three years, Aly! What on earth is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know! I was just… We were supposed to go for this wine-tasting tour and it never worked out. I wanted to do it.”

  “Aly, I know. I know how much it hurts, okay? I’m coming with you. It’s not just for me, it’s for you, too. I have to save you from yourself, and you have to save me from myself. Like always.”

  Alyssa had to chuckle.

  “It is like always, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what sisters are for. Now come on, let’s go in before we have to explain to mom what took us so long.”

  “Right. Right, of course. Yes. Let’s put our happy faces on and have dinner with our mother, shall we?”

  Brianna brandished the two bottles of wine. “I’ve
got our happy faces right here.”

  Alyssa giggled as they got out of the car, pulled their coats tight against the evening chill that spring brought, and went inside the house they'd called home for so long. They had each other’s backs. They always did.

  No matter what, that was one thing that would never change. They would always have each other’s backs.

  ***

  Matteo Colombo considered.

  It wasn’t necessary, not really. He didn’t have to do much for his vinery’s reputation, not anymore. The Colombo label in itself was prized. It stood for quality, careful selection and even more careful winemaking.

  It had always been as good as it was now. He’d just taken the name and let it fly. Now, the logo—a dove holding a leaf, because a grape would’ve been far too obvious—was synonymous with quality, and he had made sure that it would endure. For a few years, he’d been obliged to go to all of those events. It wasn’t like he’d ever minded, not really. But he’d minded being there and needing anybody else’s approval for what he knew was better than anything anybody else had.

  He'd always had faith in his family’s wines. At times, it had felt like he was the only one who did. But it didn’t matter now. Because now, he could do as he pleased.

  Maybe it would please him to go to California. It had been a while since he’d been in the States. He enjoyed spending time there. The weather would be nice. The event would be fun. He knew that they were very careful with who they invited, because he was one of the hosts. Oh, that didn’t mean that he had to go. His company would foot part of the bill and provide quite a bit of the refreshments, that was all.

  It was good PR. It was a good way to build an elite and exclusive community of people who enjoyed Colombo wines. But those were the reasons he used to justify the expense to himself. The real reason was that he loved the idea of it. He loved the idea of being the host and entertaining all of those people who were so eager and keen to appreciate their offerings.

  All right, so it was a bit of an ego thing. Matteo had no problem admitting that. He was quite justifiably proud of what he'd done with the business.

  Matteo stood at the window of his bedroom in his villa, overlooking the vineyard where the most acclaimed of his grapes grew. They were perfect, of course, and the wine made from them had the highest quality designation that any Italian wine could have. It wasn’t like the Colombo label only catered to those who could afford the very finest, though. He had holdings throughout the country, and he had recently expanded into the States. It made sense to go and see for himself how his investment there was doing. He would enjoy it. It would be a nice break.