by Lynne Graham
‘Yes, I can see why you thought that...at the beginning,’ Vivi stressed tightly. ‘Were you ever planning to tell me the truth?’
Raffaele flinched, black lashes lowering over stunning dark eyes, his sculpted mouth compressing into a strong line. ‘Probably not,’ he conceded, disconcerting her with that unexpected admission. ‘I knew it would upset you and I didn’t want to upset you. You learning that I was blackmailed to the altar wasn’t going to materially change anything between us.’
‘I deserved the truth whether it would have upset me or not,’ Vivi pointed out. ‘It was unfair to keep me in the dark.’
‘Initially I agreed to marry you because of the dossier on Arianna,’ Raffaele framed tautly. ‘But long before we got to the church I had a whole host of other reasons for marrying you.’
‘Only one reason... I was pregnant,’ Vivi reminded him resolutely.
‘Reason two, I couldn’t keep my hands off you. Three, you light up my world in the weirdest way. Four, I screwed up two years ago with you and lost you and I wasn’t about to risk losing you again.’
Her smooth brow furrowed. A little colour was returning to her drawn cheeks. ‘Screwed up...how?’
‘I met the girl of my dreams and I was falling for you and then all that brothel stuff came out in the newspapers and I reacted violently. I assumed I’d been an idiot with you. I hadn’t been that attracted to anyone before and I felt foolish. I jumped to conclusions without examining the evidence. I walked away when I should’ve had the courage to trust my own instincts and stay.’
‘You were falling in love with me?’ Vivi almost whispered, so shaken was she by what she was hearing. ‘Two years ago?’
Raffaele jerked down his chin in a silent nod of confirmation and tears sprang to her eyes and overflowed. ‘That scandal cost us so much.’
‘Sì...’ Raffaele agreed, crouching down at her feet and seizing both of her hands in the strong grip of his. ‘Which is why I was perfectly happy for Stam’s blackmail to remain a dirty little secret for ever. What’s a little blackmail in the family circle when I get to be with the woman I love? And I do love you... I love you so much I don’t have the words to express it, amata mia.’
‘You love me?’ she mumbled unsteadily.
‘I’m afraid so. I’m absolutely devoted to you and I’m never letting you go,’ Raffaele asserted, rising upright and gently tugging on her hands to raise her too. ‘I was in trouble the minute I saw you again but I didn’t have to think about it because I was panicking about the dossier on Arianna. I knew I had a serious problem when I stole your virginity on a sofa, which is the very reverse of cool. All the same I knew it was love when I was happy that you were carrying my baby. I’ve never felt this way before. I didn’t think I even had it in me to feel emotions like this,’ he confessed with intense dark golden eyes locked to her appreciatively. ‘Together you and that love have turned my world upside down.’
‘Have we?’ she asked breathlessly, wrapping two possessive arms round him and holding him close, revelling in the heat and strength of him.
‘I’m much more flexible now. I’ve abandoned my clockwork routine that I used to hate having disrupted,’ he admitted with an irreverent grin. ‘I’m late getting into the bank in the morning because I stay home until my wife is awake and so I can make love to her again...you are not an early riser, cara mia. I leave the office early when I miss you. I’ve even come back for lunch a few times. I used to be a workaholic, a bit of a joyless character, to be frank. That’s why I told you that you light up my world, because it was the truth that it was rather dark and boring before you came into it.’
‘I just had no idea you felt this way about me,’ she whispered in a joyful daze.
‘Where have your wits been? I stick to you like white on rice. I rarely leave you alone. All I want is to make you happy...to make up for all the unhappy times you went through before I was around,’ he intoned with a raw emotional edge to that declaration. ‘I love you with the sort of intensity I didn’t believe I even possessed.’
‘I love you too...and two years ago I was falling for you as well,’ Vivi confided, suddenly feeling remarkably generous towards him. ‘When you walked away you hurt me and that’s why I tried to keep you at a distance this time around. I thought I needed to protect myself.’
Raffaele ran soothing fingertips down the side of her face. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you but, if it’s any consolation, I was hurt as well, which was why I reacted so badly back then. This time I didn’t want to risk anything going wrong, so I buried the blackmail story.’
‘You still should’ve told me,’ Vivi warned him. ‘A wife is supposed to be for good and bad times.’
‘I know. I told Stam he was a terrific matchmaker, which, ironically, infuriated him. I mean, Winnie and Eros are mad about each other. I could see that at our wedding. And now, here we are, another well-matched pair.’
‘But we’re not well matched on paper!’ Vivi protested. ‘I still don’t know how we work.’
‘It’s our special magic, amata mia, and I, for one, am very grateful for it.’ Raffaele claimed her anxious mouth with a passionate kiss that left her breathless and her desire to understand the mystery of their happiness receded along with it. ‘Talk later?’
‘Is this you trying to bargain again?’
‘It’s called negotiation,’ Raffaele assured her loftily with amusement dancing in his gorgeous eyes. ‘And I will have you know that I am very, very good at it.’
Vivi laughed and yanked his tie to draw him down to her on the bed, where she had arranged herself invitingly. ‘I’m good at other stuff...’
‘I know,’ Raffaele agreed fondly as she dragged off his jacket, disposed of his tie and embarked impatiently on his shirt buttons, love and desire combining to drive her on with wild impatience. ‘I love the way you strip me whenever you take the notion. I’m all yours.’
Vivi gave him plenty to love in the following hour, matching his passion with every fibre of her own, and excitement flamed over them because all worry had been forgotten and their intimacy had a sweeter edge after the truths they had shared. Afterwards, lying in his arms, thinking of all the many signs of love he had shown her and she had stubbornly refused to recognise, Vivi finally trusted enough to let happiness bubble through her and she contemplated her starry future.
EPILOGUE
EIGHTEEN MONTHS LATER, Vivi sat with her sister, Winnie, while she fed her second child, a little sister for Teddy called Cassia. Cassia was adorable with her dark curls but not quite as adorable, in Vivi’s opinion, as her own much-adored twins, now aged one, very lively little boys crawling about the floor and getting involved in all sorts of mischief.
Matteo and Andrea had been born a little earlier than their due date, and by Caesarean section, but had been perfectly healthy, if a little heavy for their mother’s slender frame. The pregnancy had been more testing than the delivery and had entailed bed rest in the third trimester when Vivi had developed crippling back and hip pain. That aside, Vivi was really enjoying motherhood and was giving Arianna, already going through her first pregnancy after her wedding the previous year, all the support she could. Slowly but surely her previous friendship with Raffaele’s younger sister had revived, although she was probably closer to their near neighbour, Elisa.
Her sisters were regular visitors and possibly the biggest surprise of the past year had been Zoe’s transformation into a woman to be reckoned with. Certainly, Vivi thought fondly, none of them could have forecast that development, but it was a very welcome one because their youngest sibling was no longer a source of anxiety and concern for either Winnie or Vivi.
In addition, much of the resentment their grandfather had fostered by insisting they marry men of his choosing had since drained away, vastly improving their relationship with the older man. Vivi, however, was still pretty cool towards Stam Fotakis becaus
e, although she had magically contrived to forgive Raffaele for those threatened redundancies because she knew he had been desperate to save Arianna from that dossier being made public, she was less forgiving of the way Raffaele had been treated by her grandfather. Eros had won an island and knowledge of his son’s existence in marrying Winnie, Raffaele had simply been brutally blackmailed.
The older man was, however, still invited to all the main family get-togethers the sisters enjoyed because he did have one saving grace in that he totally loved his great-grandchildren and relished being a part of their lives. He could always be depended on to turn up with loads of age-inappropriate presents for the little ones in the family circle. Vivi’s twins were the proud possessors of a fabulous train set that they wouldn’t be allowed to play with until they were much older. But Stam did now try to fit in and behave like a family member and Vivi liked him the better on that score. Winnie was closest to the older man and Zoe had no quarrel with him whatsoever because in the end, as events had transpired, he had not had the chance to pressure Zoe into doing anything he wished.
Vivi was incredibly busy in her role as wife and mother. Her dressing room was now packed with clothes for wearing to regular social events and on the domestic front, since the one-day-a-week opening of the palazzo had grown into an enterprise and that was entirely her department, she was even busier. She loved having help constantly on hand with her sons because that freed her to organise the tourist arrangements at the palazzo. She had also been invited to play a role in a children’s charity that Raffaele’s mother had once been involved with. As Vivi loved to be challenged, the busier she was, the happier she was.
Winnie settled her infant daughter into one of the cots in the interlinking rooms that acted as a nursery suite at the palazzo and, smiling at the nanny hovering to look after the three children, accompanied Vivi downstairs.
‘Do you think Zoe will make it this weekend?’ Winnie asked hopefully.
‘We’ll have to wait and see. You know how pressured her schedule is,’ Vivi murmured, her steps quickening on the stairs as she saw Raffaele stride into the hall and smile up at her.
When she saw him, her heart lifted—every time—and she felt light as air, as if nothing and nobody could ever hurt her again. It was a wonderfully grounding way for Vivi to feel after years and years of insecurity and distrust. It made her recall the therapy Zoe had gone through some years earlier and reckon that, perhaps, she could have done with some treatment as well, only she and Winnie had been so busy trying to ‘fix’ Zoe that neither of them had looked at their own childhood vulnerabilities.
Raffaele stood talking to her sister but his attention continued to stray back to his wife. Eros strode in from the pool and the two men exchanged news before the couples parted to get ready for dinner. Raffaele went straight upstairs to see his sons and Matteo and Andrea chortled with baby excitement and made a beeline for their father, who always provided fun. Vivi watched him scoop up the twins together with the affection that came so easily to him now. It had surprised her to see how much of a hands-on father her husband was willing to be, joining in bath times and play times with relaxed enjoyment. His own father had never unbent to such a degree with him, he had confided ruefully, but, as he had also pointed out, times had changed and his father had been raised with a great deal of formality by the staff and had rarely mixed with his parents when he was little.
One step inside their bedroom, Raffaele pulled her boldly into his arms and husked, ‘You look ravishing today, amata mia...’
Vivi was already sliding out of her green cotton skirt and top, as hungry for his attention as he was for hers. In that line they had always been a perfect match for each other, she thought fondly. She lifted her slender hands to his face, fingers brushing appreciatively through the faint shadow of black stubble outlining his stubborn, passionate mouth. ‘I always think you look gorgeous,’ she told him truthfully, watching the colour darken his exotic cheekbones with secret amusement because he was never comfortable with any reference to his film-star looks. ‘But what I love most about you is that you’re all mine.’
‘And you’re so vocal about it, bella mia,’ Raffaele growled with appreciation as he stalked her backwards and down onto the bed. ‘As possessive as I am.’
‘Match made in heaven,’ Vivi whispered happily, looking up at him as he stripped with helpful alacrity.
‘Or, as Stam would have it...possibly hell,’ Raffaele countered with a half-smile, for he had a prickly relationship with the older man, who could never quite forget that Raffaele had dared to strike back at him for his blackmail.
‘Heaven,’ Vivi insisted with all the wonderful confidence his love had contrived to give her since their marriage.
‘I love you,’ Raffaele groaned after claiming a passionate kiss.
Vivi beamed up at him with a sunny smile, her violet eyes bright. ‘I love you even more.’
‘Competitive...much?’ Raffaele laughed and silence fell as two very well-matched personalities proved all over again how very happy they could make each other.
* * *
If you enjoyed The Italian Demands His Heirs, you’re sure to enjoy the other two stories in Lynne Graham’s Billionaires at the Altar trilogy!
Winnie and Eros’s Story
The Greek Claims His Shock Heir
Available Now!
Zoe and Raj’s Story
Coming Soon!
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Sicilian’s Secret Son by Angela Bissell.
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The Sicilian’s Secret Son
by Angela Bissell
CHAPTER ONE
DINO ROSSINI SAT FORWARD, an ugly sneer on his face. ‘You’re making a mistake, Cavallari. You think this is what your father wanted?’
Seated behind the desk in his late father’s study, Luca Cavallari met Rossini’s angry stare with a steady one of his own. Glancing away—even blinking—would show weakness, and this man, like all bullies, preyed on those he considered weaker than himself.
It was why Luca had just fired him.
‘What my father wanted ceased to matter the day he died,’ he said. ‘We do things my way now.’
Rossini’s expression darkened. ‘The old ways—’
‘Will not be tolerated. I made that clear two months ago.’ A warning his father’s security chief had blatantly ignored. Disgust turned Luca’s voice rough. ‘What you did yesterday was indefensible.’
‘He s
tole from you,’ Rossini said, as if that justified his brutality.
‘You should have called the police.’
Rossini laughed, the sound harsh. Mean. ‘This isn’t New York. You think a fancy suit and haircut gets you respect?’ He shook his head. ‘America made you soft, Cavallari. Here, when someone steals from you, disrespects you, you don’t call the police. You teach him a lesson.’
Anger sent Luca surging to his feet. He leant forward, planting his fisted hands on the desk. ‘A lesson?’ His voice boomed inside the high-ceilinged room. ‘You set your men—your thugs—onto a sixteen-year-old boy! He has a fractured leg, broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and a serious concussion.’ Bile burned the back of Luca’s throat. Controlling his temper, he sat back down and said coldly, ‘Get out.’
‘What about my men?’
‘They’re fired, too.’
Rossini stood, another sneer distorting his face. ‘It won’t be easy replacing us.’
‘I already have.’ Luca punctuated the fact with a hard, satisfied smile. ‘There are two men outside the door waiting to escort you off the estate.’
Rossini’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of mottled red. He strode to the door, shot Luca one last belligerent look, and stalked out.
Luca stood and moved to the window behind the desk. Outside, in the bright glare of the Sicilian sun, two large, muscular men accompanied Rossini to where his black sedan was parked. He got in, gunned the engine and sped off, the car’s tyres spitting gravel and kicking up a cloud of pale dust. Luca watched the vehicle vanish from sight.
Good riddance.
He should have fired Rossini two months ago, his twenty years of service to the family be damned. Perhaps the man was right to some extent, although it galled Luca to admit it. He wasn’t ‘soft’—far from it—but years of self-imposed exile in America had left him ill prepared for the mammoth job ahead.
