The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child / Claiming My Bride Of Convenience: The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child / Claiming My Bride of Convenience (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Carol Marinelli

  She pressed her lips together, as if steeling herself, and I took hold of her arm, drawing her to me.

  ‘What were those women saying?’ I asked in a low voice.

  ‘Oh, the expected. You had a wife tucked away but obviously didn’t think much of her.’

  ‘Daisy—’

  ‘And the only reason you’re trotting me out now is because I made a fuss at that ball a few weeks ago. Otherwise I’d still be firmly in the cupboard.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again, meaning it. I hated to see her hurt—especially by this vicious brood of pointless vipers.

  ‘Like I said, you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s the truth, isn’t it? We wouldn’t be here—I wouldn’t be here—if I hadn’t marched up to you at that stupid party.’ She gave a hollow laugh. ‘Goodness only knows what I was thinking.’

  ‘I’m glad you did,’ I told her—and it was something else I meant. Utterly.

  ‘Are you? Because I can put up with anything anyone says if that’s the truth. Things are different now, aren’t they?’

  She gazed up at me, her eyes sparkling the same jewelled shade as the pendant I’d put around her neck. And while part of me wanted to remind her…not that different…another part of me silenced the voice of reason completely.

  ‘Of course they are.’ I took both her slender hands in mine as I brushed a kiss across her lips for all and sundry to see. ‘Of course they are,’ I murmured against her lips.

  She nodded, her eyes closed, her whole body accepting, and suddenly I couldn’t bear to be in that stuffy ballroom for another second.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ I said against her lips. ‘Now.’

  Daisy’s eyes fluttered open and she gazed at me for a long moment, clearly understanding what I was really saying—and accepting it along with everything else.

  ‘All right,’ she whispered.

  And then I was taking her by the hand, drawing her out to the night, and neither of us was looking back.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  EVERYTHING IN ME TINGLED—no, sparkled—as Matteo opened the door to the waiting limo himself. I knew what I’d agreed to and my heart sang even as my stomach tightened with nerves. Was I sure about this? Yes. Did I know what I was doing? Not remotely.

  The vicious gossip I know I’d been meant to overhear had stung, but only briefly. Like Matteo, I realised I didn’t care about the circling crows of society, only the people who were genuine, like the woman I’d met who had shown such an interest in quilting.

  And Matteo. I cared about him. More and more. I couldn’t deny it to myself even if I knew better than to whisper a word of it to him. Which was why I was here, speeding through the darkness with Matteo next to me, knowing what was ahead. Sort of.

  The limo pulled up in front of Arides International, one of the dozens of luxury hotels in the group that Matteo was CEO of. A white-gloved valet opened the door, and Matteo murmured his thanks before drawing me out of the car and into the building.

  My every sense felt heightened as we walked through the lobby, where the chandeliers suspended above us glittered with a fierce light, the tinkle of crystal and laughter a symphony of sound. And Matteo’s hand was in mine…his fingers warm and dry and strong, drawing me ever forward.

  Neither of us spoke in the lift as it soared up to the presidential penthouse where Matteo always stayed. He swiped the key card with one efficient movement and then tossed it onto a marble table in the hall before turning to me. My heart thudded so loudly I feared he could hear it—or see it, beneath the thin silk of my dress. I leaned against the closed door, breathless and expectant.

  ‘Daisy.’

  The way he said my name, a statement of both possession and intent, thrilled me to the core. He held out his hand and I took it, our fingers lacing together as he pulled me towards him.

  Our hips bumped and heat flared but Matteo took his time, brushing his lips across mine once, twice, and then settling them there. I drank him in, every sense fizzing, as we kissed and kissed and it felt as if the whole world fell away. I could be happy just like this, kissing him for ever, I thought hazily, even as an insistent, molten part of me knew that I could not.

  And Matteo knew it too, for he broke the kiss and started walking backwards towards the bedroom, a sleepy smile on his face, his fingers still laced with mine.

  ‘No need to rush this,’ he murmured as he pulled me along. And I went—willingly, wantonly, I went.

  ‘No indeed,’ I managed with a shaky laugh.

  Already I was feeling out of my depth. Did Matteo know how little experience I had when it came to bedroom matters? He would certainly guess, but I wondered whether I should tell the truth of it to him now.

  The bedroom was full of shadows and moonlight, the bed wide and inviting, a gold silk duvet piled high with embroidered pillows. Words were bottled up in my throat and then they sank towards my toes. I couldn’t tell him. It would ruin the mood. I would feel ridiculous—even more gauche than I already did. And I was embarrassed enough already, just standing here with all my clothes on, while Matteo gazed at me, his eyes and his smile gleaming with admiration as well as something like avarice.

  ‘You’re so lovely, Daisy.’

  He murmured the words, his hands spanning my waist as he kissed me again, his mouth slanting over mine with gentle yet persuasive possession.

  ‘So, so lovely,’ he whispered.

  And then he kissed me again and I was lost.

  I clutched at his shoulders, his back, anything I could get purchase on as his kiss consumed me. Then he stepped back and I was bereft, his absence a cold emptiness inside me.

  With one finger he touched the pendant nestled in the hollow of my throat. ‘We’ll save that for last,’ he said. ‘Or maybe we’ll keep it on.’

  I didn’t know what he meant until, in one sinuous and assured movement, he tugged the zip of my dress from its top to the small of my back. The dress fell away, pooling about my waist. Cool air puckered my skin and I fought the urge to cover myself, for I wasn’t wearing a bra. I’d never been naked in front of another human being, and I felt it keenly now.

  Matteo’s gaze roved over me, a small smile curving his lips. ‘You really are perfect, Daisy.’

  ‘Hardly perfect.’ I nodded towards his pristine tuxedo. ‘What about you?’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ He arched an eyebrow in wicked challenge before spreading his arms wide. ‘Shall you do the honours?’

  I let out a little disbelieving laugh before I realised he was serious. Emboldened by the blatant look of desire in his eyes, I moved towards him and the dress slithered to my ankles. I stepped out of it, conscious that I was wearing nothing but a pair of high heels, scrappy silk knickers, and a necklace that cost a fortune. I would have felt absurd, except the expression on Matteo’s face made me feel beautiful. Sexy. Desired.

  Fumbling a little, I undid his bow tie and tossed it aside. Matteo watched me from under half-lowered lids, colour slashed on each cheekbone. As I moved down his shirt, my fingers clumsy on the studs, I felt the thud of his heart against my palm. He was affected—as affected as I was.

  The cummerbund took some doing, and I laughed a little. ‘I’m not very experienced at this.’

  ‘That hardly matters. You’re doing an excellent job,’ he said huskily.

  Finally the thing was off, and I tossed it aside with a shuddering breath. Using both my hands, I spread his shirt wide so I could take in the magnificence of his chest—tanned and perfectly sculpted. I outlined the ridges of his pectorals with my fingertips, amazed at how beautiful he was, and Matteo let out a ragged laugh.

  ‘Glykia mou, what you do to me… No other woman has affected me like this.’

  I glanced up at him, shocked. ‘Is that really true?’

  ‘It is.’ He captured my hand with his own. ‘But I do not want to
talk or think of them—only of you.’

  Then, in one elegant swoop, he caught me in his arms and laid me down on the bed. I kicked off my heels, watched as his eyes glinted silver and he undid his trousers, kicking them off with impatience, and then following with his shirt.

  Then he lay down next to me, one arm braced over my head as he smiled down at me.

  ‘I’m nervous,’ I whispered.

  ‘There is nothing to be nervous about, I promise you.’

  He sealed that promise with a lingering kiss, and then he began to move lower, kissing my jaw, the curve of my neck, and then lifting the heavy pendant to press a kiss to the hollow of my throat. Each kiss made me shiver with longing and excitement, pleasure arcing through me at every brush of his lips.

  Then his mouth moved even lower, and I squirmed with pleasure and shock as he kissed my breasts in turn, lavishing each with attention they had never known before.

  ‘Matteo…’ I half gasped his name as his mouth went lower yet, kissing his way down to my navel. No one had ever touched me like this. No one had ever made me feel like this.

  Then his hand brushed between my legs, fingers seeking the damp heat that resided there, and I moaned aloud. The sound was one I’d never heard myself make before. Everything felt new and shockingly wonderful. His fingers were deft and knowing, touching me in a way that sent waves of pleasure spiralling through me, so intense I responded without even realising I was doing so—arching my hips, grabbing his hand.

  ‘Easy, glykia mou.’

  ‘You make me feel…’ I gasped, not even sure what I was saying. But in any case I didn’t need to say it.

  ‘I know,’ he said, and he kissed me again as his fingers continued to work their magic, and I felt a sense of urgency building inside me, as if I were climbing a spiral set of stairs, higher and higher, desperate to reach the top…

  ‘Matteo!’

  His name exploded from me as I convulsed under his touch, my body giving itself up to the dazzling wash of sensations that shuddered through me in a tide of pleasure. I’d never felt anything like it in my life, and I lay there, staring up at him with dazed eyes, boneless and spent.

  ‘And that is just the beginning,’ he said with a growl as he rolled on top of me.

  ‘The beginning…’ I felt as if everything in me had ended, and yet already a new, deeper need licked at me as Matteo held himself above me.

  I braced myself for the invasion, tense even as I was ready—so ready.

  Matteo began to slid inside, pausing as I winced just a little.

  ‘Daisy…?’

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered as I adjusted to the incredibly foreign feeling of him inside me. ‘This is very…new.’

  ‘New? Do you mean…?’

  ‘Yes.’ My voice came out in a suffocated whisper as I hid my blushing face against his shoulder. ‘I didn’t want to tell you.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ He gasped out the words, clearly using a superhuman level of restraint to keep himself from going any farther.

  ‘I don’t know. I thought it might put you off.’

  ‘Put me off? Glykia mou, why would it do that? Do you know me at all?’

  Yes, I thought as my body opened to accept his. Yes, I do know you—better than you think…perhaps even more than you want. I know you, Matteo. I know you.

  And then I gave myself up to the feeling—and to him.

  ‘Daisy…’

  Her name was the only word on my lips, in my mind, as we spiralled towards that dizzying peak together. As she cried out softly, wrapping her legs around me, I had never expected to feel so much. Physical sensation, base pleasure—yes. I prided myself on giving that, as well as receiving it. But the feeling as Daisy surrendered herself to me, her body accepting and enfolding mine… As I looked down at her flushed face, her eyes dazed not just with passion but with something deeper, I realised that we were joined, truly as one in that moment. Man and wife.

  Man and wife.

  That blew me away. It left me shattered, physically replete and emotionally overwhelmed as I wrapped her in my arms, breathed in her scent, let her envelop me. I had never expected to experience such intensity—not mere pleasure, but emotion. Depth and need and caring.

  I hated myself for it. This wasn’t in the plan. This wasn’t in the plan at all. And, worst of all, I knew Daisy felt it too—perhaps even felt it in me.

  This was a disaster.

  I rolled off her, my heart thudding in my chest as the aftershocks of our shared climax rippled through us both. We hadn’t even used birth control—something I’d been intending to do, but had forgotten in the moment. I wondered if Daisy even realised.

  She was silent, a faint smile on her lovely face, her hair tousled in a golden-brown cloud against the pillow. She still wore the pendant I’d given her and it gleamed against her golden skin. She looked like a painting—lush and ripe and so very beautiful.

  I got out of bed.

  ‘Matteo…?’

  ‘I’m just going for a drink of water.’ I tried not to speak brusquely because even now, when everything in me was both reeling and recoiling, I didn’t want to hurt her—more fool me.

  In the kitchenette of our suite I took a few deep, steadying breaths. I caught my reflection in the polished glass of a cupboard and saw how hollow-eyed I looked, as if someone had carved something right out of me. Perhaps they—she—had.

  I took a long draught of water, stalling for time, trying to think how I should play this. My instinct was to go into chilly withdrawal—my usual reaction when I felt anyone was breaching my defences.

  But no one had scaled the walls the way Daisy had; they were crumbling all around me. I couldn’t retreat that way—not with her. It would be too cruel. It was a thought that made my mouth twitch in disbelief, because when had I ever cared about that? Yet somehow I did.

  No, I decided, I would play it light. Easy. The way I had fully intended this evening to be when I had planned it. Perhaps if I pretended long enough, it would really be the case. Daisy would believe me, and I’d even believe myself.

  On impulse, I grabbed a bottle of champagne from the fridge, and two crystal flutes, and strolled back into the bedroom wearing nothing but a smile.

  Daisy scooted up in bed, the sheet covering her breasts, her hair tucked behind her ears. She smiled at me uncertainly, and the hesitation I saw in her eyes made me ache in a way I didn’t like.

  ‘Champagne.’ I brandished the bottle. ‘To celebrate.’

  ‘What are we celebrating, exactly?’

  ‘Us.’ I popped the cork on the champagne and poured two glasses to near overflowing. ‘That was truly wonderful.’

  Her smile remained filled with uncertainty. That wasn’t quite the sweet nothing she’d been hoping to hear, but I pretended not to notice.

  ‘Cheers, Daisy,’ I said, and raised my glass.

  After a second’s pause she clinked her glass with mine and we both sipped.

  ‘So…the Caribbean in a few days,’ I said, my tone deliberately nonchalant. ‘I can’t wait to show you the beaches. We’ll go scuba diving…have you ever been?’

  She gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘At least you have a passport,’ I said lightly. I’d had it rushed through when we were first married.

  She nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I suppose.’

  Her golden-brown gaze searched mine for a moment, probing and testing me while I looked blandly back. Whatever she was looking for she didn’t find, and she put her champagne aside and got out of bed, reaching for a robe.

  ‘Come back to bed.’ The words burst from me before I could think them through.

  She gave me a fleeting smile. ‘I will.’

  It was foolish to feel bereft, to wonder what she was thinking—and, worse, to want to know. For nearly thirty-five ye
ars I’d prided myself on not needing anyone, and more importantly, not caring. At an early age I’d discovered love to be the illusion it was—the evil illusion. Because no matter how hard you tried to earn it, work for it, it was never yours for the taking. And the reason for that was, I had decided a long time ago, because it wasn’t real in the first place.

  I had Andreas to thank for teaching me that lesson—although of course he hadn’t meant to. Andreas and my grandfather. Because I’d seen how my grandfather’s love for my half-brother had turned to ash the moment he hadn’t been useful any more. He’d banished him to the top floor of his house and never visited him at all. That had hurt almost as much as his complete rejection of me.

  Seeing that change had made me realise just how pointless and arbitrary love was—how fleeting and foolish and false. And I was glad to have learned it when I was young. When I’d needed to.

  With my mouth set in a grim line, I drained the rest of my champagne and then stretched out in bed, determined to relax.

  Let Daisy sulk. Let her be sad. I wasn’t going to chase after her—I wasn’t going to chivvy her out of her melancholy mood like a child who needed to be given sweets.

  But when she returned to bed twenty minutes later she surprised me, because she wasn’t sulking at all. She smiled at me and then, with a hint of playfulness, shrugged off her robe.

  My eyebrows rose. ‘I could get used to this,’ I said.

  ‘So could I.’

  Still smiling, she stretched out next to me and opened her arms, everything about her a warm invitation.

  What could I do but take her in my own? The feeling of her body nestled close to mine was exquisite, and the kiss she gave me so freely was triumph. She was playing by my rules. She’d received, understood, and accepted them. I could feel it in the way she both responded and surrendered, and afterwards, both of us sated a second time, in the way she held out her champagne glass for a refill, a small smile playing about her mouth, her eyebrows slightly raised, as if to say, See? I get it. I understand.

  I filled it gladly, trying not to notice the sadness that lingered in her eyes like a shadow in the corner of the room—and trying not to feel it myself, because that was ridiculous.