by Lynne Graham
Artie pressed her lips together for a moment. ‘I finished my education online. I was given special permission. I didn’t want to leave my father to the care of strangers. He was stricken with grief after losing my mother. We both were. It was my choice to take care of him—no one forced me to do it.’
His hands began a gentle massaging movement that made the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders melt like snow under warm sunshine. ‘I think what you did for your father was admirable and yet I can’t help feeling he exploited you. You should’ve had more time to yourself doing all the things teenagers and young adults do.’
Artie stepped out of his hold and interlaced her fingers in front of her body. She glanced to where Rosa was hovering with a bottle of champagne. ‘Shouldn’t we be mingling with Father Pasquale and our two other guests?’ She didn’t wait for him to answer and turned and walked towards the housekeeper standing with the priest and the other witness, who worked part-time on the Castello Mireille estate.
* * *
Luca watched Artie pick up a glass of champagne from the silver tray the housekeeper was holding. Her expression was now coolly composed but he sensed he had pressed on a nerve when discussing her role of caring for her father. He’d already suspected she was a virgin—her father had intimated as such—but no way had he suspected she had zero experience when it came to dating.
No one had kissed her before him.
She had never had a boyfriend, not even during her teens. How had her father allowed that to happen? Surely he must have realised his daughter was missing out on socialising with people her age?
Luca ran his tongue over his lips and tasted the sweet, fruity residue of her lip gloss. He could still feel the soft imprint of her lips on his, could still feel the throb of desire kissing her had evoked in his body, the deep pulses in his groin, the tingles in his thighs and lower spine.
He had kissed many women, too many to recall in any detail, but he knew he would never forget his first kiss with Artie. It was embedded in his memory. He could recall every contour of her soft mouth, every brush and glide of her tongue, her sweet vanilla and wild-strawberry taste.
But he would have to find some way to forget, for theirs was to be a paper marriage. A six-month time frame to achieve his goal of setting his grandfather’s mind at peace. Knowing Artie had so little experience was an even bigger reason to stick to his plan of a hands-off arrangement. It wouldn’t be fair to explore the physical chemistry between them, because it might raise her expectations on their relationship.
He didn’t do relationships. And certainly not that type of relationship.
Long-term relationships required commitment and responsibility for the health and safety of your partner. His track record on keeping those he loved safe was appalling. It was easier not to love. Easier to keep his emotions in check, to freeze them so deep inside himself they could never be thawed. To imagine oneself falling in love just because of a bit of scorching hot chemistry was a foolish and reckless thing to do. He no longer did anything reckless and foolish.
Luca glanced at Artie and something pinched in his chest. She was standing next to the ancient stone fountain, the tinkling of water and the sound of birds chirping in the shrubbery a perfect backdrop for her old-world beauty. The sunlight brought out the glossy sheen of her dark brown hair, the light breeze playing with a curl that had worked its way loose from her elegant up-do. She was looking into the distance, a small frown on her forehead, and every now and again the tip of her tongue came out and swept across her lips where his had recently pressed. She turned her head and caught him staring at her, and her cheeks pooled with a delicate shade of pink.
Had he made a mistake in choosing her to be his temporary bride? She was so innocent, so untouched and other-worldly, like she had been transported from another time in history or straight out of a classic fairy tale. And yet he’d felt a connection with her from the moment he met her. A powerful connection that no amount of logic and rationality could dismiss. His brain said Don’t go there and yet his body roared with primal hunger.
But he would have to get his self-control back in shape, and fast, because falling for his sweet and innocent bride would be the most reckless and foolish thing of all.
CHAPTER FIVE
ARTIE WAS AWARE of Luca’s gaze resting on her every time she glanced his way. Aware of the way her body responded to his lightest touch. The merest brush of his fingers set off spot fires in her flesh, sending heat travelling to every secret place in her body. Smouldering there like hot coals just waiting for a breath of oxygen to fan them into vibrant life.
His kiss…
Best not to think too much about his kiss. They were supposed to be keeping their relationship platonic, but nothing about Luca’s kiss was platonic. It was sensory overload and she wondered if she would ever recover. Or stop wanting him to kiss her again. And why stop at kisses? He had woken something in her, something hungry and needy that begged to be assuaged. The idea of asking Luca to tweak the rules of their marriage slipped into her mind like an uninvited guest. It would be an ideal opportunity for her to get some experience on board. A six-month marriage where she could indulge in the delights of the flesh. What was there to lose other than her virginity?
Your pride? her conscience piped up. He can have anyone. You’re not even his type. How do you think you could ever satisfy him for six minutes, let alone six months?
Luca took a glass of champagne off Rosa and came over to where Artie was standing near the fountain. He glanced towards the priest and then back to her. ‘Father Pasquale is having a good time indulging in Rosa’s food. How long has she been working here?’
‘Since I was a baby,’ Artie said. ‘This is her home as much as it is mine.’
‘So, what would she do if you were to sell up and move away?’
Artie raised her chin. ‘I would never sell the castello. And I don’t want to live anywhere but here.’
I can’t live anywhere but here.
Luca held her gaze for a long moment. ‘How will you maintain the estate? It needs a lot of work, and sooner rather than later.’
She drained her champagne glass and sent him a narrowed glance. ‘Is this the right time to discuss this? It’s our wedding day.’
His brows drew together in a frown. ‘Do I have to remind you of the terms of our marriage?’
‘No.’ She flashed him a pointed look. ‘Do you need reminding? That kiss was a little enthusiastic for someone who insisted on keeping things on paper.’
His gaze went to her mouth, and the atmosphere throbbed with heightened intensity. ‘Maybe, but it wasn’t a one-way kiss, was it, cara? You were with me all the way.’ His tone was so deep and rough it sent a tingle down her spine. And his eyes contained a glint that made something warm and liquid spill between her thighs.
Artie went to swing away from him but his hand came down on her arm. A shiver coursed through her body at the feel of his long, strong, tanned fingers encircling her wrist. She looked down at his hand on her flesh and the warm, liquid sensation in her lower body spread like fire throughout her pelvis. She lifted her gaze to his and raised her eyebrows in a haughty manner. ‘W-what are you doing?’ Her tone was breathless rather than offended.
His broad thumb began a slow caress over the pulse point on her wrist, the fast-paced throb of her blood betraying her even further. She breathed in the scent of him—the exotic mix of citrus and clean, warm male, her senses reeling from his closeness.
‘We’re married, cara. People will expect us to touch each other.’
Her heart skipped like it was trying to break some sort of record. ‘I’m not used to people touching me.’
Luca brushed his bent knuckles against the curve of her cheek, his gaze holding hers in a sensual lock that made her insides quake with desire. ‘But you like it when I touch you, sì?’ His thumb moved from her pulse po
int and stroked along her lower lip. ‘You like it very much.’
Artie wanted to deny it but she had hardly helped her case by kissing him back the way she had earlier. Nor was she helping it now by not pulling away from his loose hold. Her willpower had completely deserted her—she wanted his touch, craved it like an addict craved a forbidden substance. She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth, couldn’t stop thinking about the warm, sensual pleasure of it moving against hers. Couldn’t stop thinking about the stroke and glide of his tongue and how it had sent torrents of need racing through her body.
She drew in a ragged breath and forced her gaze back to his. ‘I’m sorry if I keep giving you mixed messages. It wasn’t my intention at all.’
He brought her hand up to his mouth and pressed a barely-there kiss to her bent knuckles, his gaze unwavering on hers. ‘You’re not the only one sending mixed messages.’ He dropped her hand and gave a rueful smile. ‘I’m not going to change the terms of our marriage. It wouldn’t be fair to you.’
Not fair? What was fair about denying her body the fulfilment it craved? ‘Are you worried I might fall in love with you?’ The question popped out before she could stop it.
His dark eyes dipped to her mouth for a moment, his forehead creasing in a frown as if he was quietly considering the possibility of her developing feelings for him. When his gaze came back to hers it was shuttered. Screened with secret thoughts. ‘It would be very foolish of you to do so.’ His voice contained a note of gravity that made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle.
‘Have you ever been in love with anyone?’
‘No.’ His answer was fast and flat.
Artie twirled the empty champagne glass in her hand. ‘I didn’t realise it was possible to prevent oneself from falling in love. From what I’ve heard it just happens and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Maybe you haven’t met the right person yet.’
‘I have no doubt such feelings exist between other people but I have no interest in feeling that way about someone.’
‘Why?’
Luca shrugged one broad shoulder, his gaze still inscrutable. ‘It seems to me an impossible task to be someone’s soulmate. To be everything they need and want you to be. I know I can’t be that person. I’m too selfish.’
Artie wondered if that was entirely true. He was prepared to marry a virtual stranger to keep his grandfather alive for a few more years. How was that selfish? And he was prepared to hand her back the castello at the end of six months instead of keeping his nine-tenths ownership. Hardly the actions of a self-serving man, surely?
Rosa approached at that moment carrying a tray with fresh glasses of champagne. ‘Another quick one before the official photos are taken?’ she asked with a smile. ‘The photographer is setting up near the rose garden.’
Artie put her used glass on the tray and took a new one. ‘Grazie.’
‘And you, Signor Ferrantelli?’ Rosa turned to Luca, offering him a fresh glass off the tray.
He shook his head. ‘Not for me, thanks. One is enough. And please call me Luca.’ He took Artie’s free hand and nodded in the direction of the photographer. ‘Shall we?’
* * *
Once a small set of photos were taken, Artie helped Rosa tidy away the refreshments after the priest and photographer had left. But when the housekeeper announced she was going to have an early night, Artie was left at a loose end. She hadn’t seen Luca since the photo session—he’d said he wanted to check a few things out on the estate and hadn’t yet returned. She’d thought about what he’d said back at the fountain and his reasons for saying it. The more she got to know him, the more she wanted to know. Why was he so adamant about keeping his emotions in check? What was so threatening about loving someone that made him so unwilling to experience it for himself? She might not have any experience when it came to falling in love, but she knew enough from her parents and books and movies it was a real and powerful emotion that was impossible to block once it happened. But since the accident, she had given up on the hope of one day finding true love. Any love she felt would be one-sided, for how could anyone return her love once they knew the destruction she had caused?
Luca had warned her about falling in love with him—‘It would be very foolish of you to do so.’ But how could she stop something that was so beyond her control? She was already aware of her vulnerability where he was concerned. He was so suave and sophisticated, and occupied a world she hadn’t been party to her entire adult life. Hadn’t his passionate, heart-stopping kiss shown her how at risk she was to developing feelings towards him?
Artie circled her wrist where his fingers had held her. A shiver shimmied down her spine as she recalled the tensile strength in his hand, the springy black masculine hairs that peppered his skin, the way his touch spoke to her flesh, awakening it, enlivening it, enticing it. He was temptation personified and she would be a fool indeed to allow her feelings to get the better of her. He had been clear about the terms of their relationship. Why, then, did she ache for more of his touch? Why, then, did she want to feel his mouth on hers again?
Artie sat in the main salon with her embroidery on her lap, when Luca came in. His hair looked tousled from the wind or the passage of his fingers or both. And he had changed out of his morning suit into jeans and a white cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his strong wrists and forearms. The white shirt highlighted his olive-toned tan, the blue jeans the muscled length of his legs. He brought in with him the fresh smell of outdoors and something else…something that made her female hormones sit up straighter and her senses to go on high alert.
She put the sampler she was working on to one side and crossed one leg over the other, working hard to keep her features neutral. ‘I wasn’t sure of your plans, so I got Rosa to make up one of the guest rooms for you. It’s on the second floor—the green suite overlooking the vineyard.’
His gaze held hers with a watchful intensity. ‘So, she knows our marriage is a hands-off affair?’
Artie moistened her lips, conscious of the slow crawl of heat in her cheeks. ‘Yes, well, I thought it best. I’m not the best actor when it comes to playing charades, and she’s known me a long time and would sense any hint of inauthenticity.’
‘I would prefer you not to tell anyone else about the terms of our relationship.’ His tone was firm. ‘I don’t want any idle gossip getting back to my grandfather.’
‘Rosa is the soul of discretion. She would never betray a confidence.’ It was the one thing Artie could rely on—the housekeeper was loyal and trustworthy to a fault. Rosa had never revealed Artie’s struggles to anyone and had always been as supportive as possible.
Luca came over to the sofa where she was sitting and leaned down and picked up the sampler she’d been working on. He ran his fingers over the tiny flower buds and leaves she had embroidered. ‘This is exquisite work. Have you been doing it long?’ he asked.
Artie shrugged off the compliment but inside she was glowing from his praise. No one apart from her father and Rosa had ever seen her work. ‘It’s just a hobby. I started doing embroidery after I got out of hospital. I’m self-taught, which you can probably tell.’
He turned the sampler over and inspected the other side, where the stitches were almost as neat and precise as on the front. ‘You undersell yourself, cara. You could start a small business doing this sort of thing. Bespoke embroidery. There’s a big swing away from factory-produced or sweatshop items. What people want these days is the personal touch.’
‘Yes, well, I’m not sure I’m ready for that.’ Artie took the sampler out of his hand and folded it and put it inside her embroidery basket, then closed the lid with a definitive movement.
‘What’s stopping you?’
I’m stopping me.
Her fear of the big, wide world outside the castello was stopping her from reaching her potential. She knew it but didn’t know how s
he could do anything to change it. How could she run a business locked away here? She met his probing gaze for a moment before looking away again. The thought of revealing her phobia to him made her blood run cold. What would he think of her? She had effectively married him under false pretences. ‘I’m happy leaving it as a hobby, that’s all. I don’t want to put myself under pressure of deadlines.’
‘Speaking of deadlines…’ Luca rubbed a hand down his face, the raspy sound of his palm against his light stubble making her recall how it had felt against her skin when he’d kissed her. ‘I’d like to make an early start in the morning. My grandfather gets tired easily, so the first part of the day is better for him to receive visitors.’
Artie blinked. Blinked again. Her pulse began to quicken. Her breathing to shorten. Her skin to tighten. She rose from the sofa on unsteady legs and moved to the bank of windows on the other side of the room. She turned her back to the room and grasped the windowsill with white-knuckled force. ‘Maybe you should go alone. I need more time before I—’
‘There isn’t time to waste.’ The intransigent edge to his tone was a chilling reminder of his forceful, goal-directed personality.
Artie swallowed a tight lump in her throat and gripped the windowsill even harder. ‘I… I can’t go with you.’
There was a beat or two of intense silence. A silence so thick it seemed to be pressing in on her from all four walls and even the ceiling. A silence that echoed in her head and roared in her ears and reminded her she was way out of her depth.
‘What do you mean, you can’t? We made an agreement, Artie. I expect you to adhere to it.’ His voice throbbed with frustration. ‘Be ready at seven thirty. I’m not taking no for an answer.’
Artie released her grip on the windowsill and turned to face him. Her stomach was roiling, her skin damp with perspiration, her mind reeling at the thought of going beyond the castello gates. ‘Luca, please don’t do this.’ Her voice came out sandpaper-hoarse.
