A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir

by Jennie Lucas

  The cut of his jacket revealed the width of his broad shoulders and his tapered trousers moulded his muscular thighs and emphasised his long legs. His golden tanned complexion and the thick mahogany hair swept back from his brow indicated his Mediterranean heritage, although he spoke with a faint American drawl.

  The tabloids called him an Italian playboy, while the broadsheets reported on his meteoric career success. Leandro owned several West End theatres and was responsible for restoring some of the most historically important venues in London. And Vialli Entertainment was only an offshoot of his property development giant Vialli Holdings in New York—one of the top businesses in the US with a portfolio worth billions.

  His hard-boned features revealed nothing of his thoughts, but the cynical curve of his lips spoke of a man who was confident in his abilities and dismissive of fools. He exuded an air of power and charisma that sent a thrill of excitement through Marnie.

  She had missed him desperately while he had been away, and she wanted to run towards him and throw herself into his arms. But she restrained the impulse, aware that Leandro disliked public displays of emotion. The thought came into her mind that even when they were alone he kept his emotions under tight control, and only when they made love did his reserved air sometimes crack.

  She slid off the bar stool and ran a hand through her long blonde hair. Her mouth curved into a smile—which faltered as Leandro’s steel-grey gaze raked the room and an expression of surprise followed by one of irritation flickered on his face when he saw her. In that moment the uncertainty that had plagued Marnie lately settled like wet concrete in the pit of her stomach.

  Five days ago it had been the first anniversary of when they had become lovers, but Leandro hadn’t phoned from New York to wish her happy anniversary. When he had called a day later she had felt reluctant to remind him of the significant date, although she’d harboured a secret hope that he was planning to celebrate their anniversary when he came home. But Leandro did not look in a celebratory mood as he strode towards her.

  He was probably tired after his journey. She ignored the thought that he had amazing energy and an insatiable libido and could make love to her several times a night. She would not let her insecurities—which she suspected stemmed from having been abandoned by her father when she was a child—spoil what she had with Leandro, Marnie told herself firmly.

  Her heart skipped a beat when he halted in front of her. The familiar spicy scent of his aftershave teased her senses and her insides melted. Despite the fact that she was wearing four-inch heels she had to tilt her head to meet his distinctly cool gaze.

  ‘Cara, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’

  ‘But you invited me...didn’t you?’ Her voice faltered as her heart plummeted. ‘Your PA phoned me yesterday and said you had asked her to let me know about the party.’

  Leandro frowned. ‘My actual instruction to Julie was to inform you that the date of the staff party had been brought forward from next week to this evening because the restaurant had made a mistake with the booking. I was involved in important negotiations in New York and couldn’t phone you myself, but I wanted to warn you that I wouldn’t be home until late tonight.’

  ‘I see.’

  Humiliation swept in a tide of heated colour across Marnie’s face. With a few devastating words Leandro had forced her to acknowledge the holes in their relationship. She had made excuses—he was a busy executive and so couldn’t spend as much time with her as she would have liked. She had told herself it didn’t matter that he had forgotten their anniversary. But with a flash of clarity she saw that she had been fooling herself.

  She wished the ground would open up and swallow her. But as she searched his hard-boned face for some small sign of softness anger surged through her, as heated as it was unexpected. Usually she avoided confrontation, but she was overwhelmed by a storm of wild emotions. Surely it wasn’t unreasonable to want to be included in Leandro’s social life, considering they had been in a relationship for a year?

  ‘Obviously if I’d realised that you hadn’t invited me to the party I wouldn’t have come,’ she said in a low voice, aware that they were the focus of attention of many of Leandro’s staff.

  But for once her temper refused to be suppressed as she remembered Fergus’s comment. Leandro’s dirty little secret. Was that how everyone at the party thought of her? Was it how Leandro thought of her?

  ‘Are you ashamed of me?’ she burst out.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ His clipped tone revealed his displeasure.

  ‘What else am I supposed to think when you never want to be seen in public with me?’ Her voice rose and Leandro’s warning frown intensified her anger. At the same time she was secretly shocked that she was arguing with him, or at least trying to goad him, but he refused to respond, although his lips thinned into a stern line.

  Memories of her mother screaming wild accusations at her father sent a shudder through her. Oh, God, was she turning into a hysterical, irrational woman like her mother had been? She wasn’t imagining that people were looking at her. Leandro’s hard-boned features gave no clue to his thoughts, but Marnie sensed from the taut way he held his body that he was surprised by her behaviour, and the steely gleam in his grey eyes told her he was furious.

  Her excitement about attending the party with him congealed into a hard knot of misery in her chest. With a choked cry she stepped past him—and stiffened when he placed his hand on her arm.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m not staying at the party now I know that you don’t want me to be here.’ She couldn’t disguise the wobble in her voice. ‘What does it matter where I’m going? It’s not as if you care.’

  The truth of that last statement felt like a punch in her gut. She shook her arm free from his grasp and walked as quickly as her high heels would allow across the restaurant. She half expected him to follow her, and her heart sank when he didn’t.

  * * *

  Leandro watched Marnie’s curvaceous figure march away from him and felt a tightening sensation in his groin as he admired the sexy sway of her derriere. He could not actually believe she would walk out on him, and he was puzzled as much as irritated when she exited the restaurant.

  She was not prone to temper tantrums—unlike his ex-wife. Marnie was easy-going, and could always be relied upon to agree with him. He appreciated a life without the drama that had been a feature of his marriage, but he had to admit that he was intrigued to discover an unexpected fiery side to her character. Recalling her hurt expression, he cursed his tactlessness. But he did not like surprises, and he’d been shocked when he’d walked into the restaurant and spotted her.

  He would have to have words with Julie, who was covering for his usual PA, Fiona, while she was on maternity leave. But he knew he couldn’t blame the temp for the misunderstanding over inviting Marnie to the staff party. He should have made sure that Julie understood that he never mixed his public and private life—and his mistress belonged firmly in the latter category.

  He had made it clear to Marnie when they had met that all he wanted was a no-strings affair. His suspicion that she was a virgin had been allayed by her white-hot passion when they’d slept together for the first time. It had blown his mind. But sex was all he wanted from her and the only thing he could offer.

  He had tried commitment once, and had his soul ripped out for his efforts, Leandro thought grimly. His marriage had quickly become a farce that had ultimately turned ugly, and he had no intention of repeating the biggest mistake of his life, despite his father’s nagging.

  He’d had dinner with Silvestro Vialli while he’d been in New York and the old man had gone on about him marrying again and, more importantly as far as his father was concerned, producing an heir to secure the future of Vialli Holdings. Leandro had learned early in life that business was the only thing his father cared about.

  ‘Next time make sure you have a paternity test to prove the child is yours as soon
as it’s born, so you avoid the disaster that happened last time,’ Silvestro had advised with typical bluntness.

  But there wasn’t going to be a next time. Nicole’s deception had left deep scars, and nothing would persuade Leandro to be metaphorically manacled to a woman for the rest of his life. Memories of his parents’ volatile marriage and bitter divorce when he was seven reinforced his belief that commitment was a mug’s game. He wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship—which made the fact that Marnie had been his mistress for a year all the more shocking.

  He couldn’t comprehend how their affair had lasted for so long without him noticing that she had stealthily infiltrated his life. It was certainly not what he’d intended when he had made a spur-of-the-moment decision to ask her to move in with him nearly a year ago. She had needed somewhere to live, and he had assumed he would grow bored with her in a matter of weeks and would find her another flat to move into.

  He was unsettled by the realisation that he had not been tempted by another woman since he’d made Marnie his mistress.

  A waiter offered him champagne and canapés. Leandro lifted a glass from the tray and took a long sip, needing the hit of alcohol in his bloodstream. His schedule in New York had been hellish, even by his standards, but he always pushed himself to his limits. He was proud of Vialli Entertainment, the business he had built without the support or help of his father. Work was central to his existence and gave him a sense of control that in the past few years had been missing from other areas of his life.

  After his marriage had failed he had focused on being a good father, determined that Henry would not suffer from the divorce the way he had done when he was a kid and his own parents had split up. But since he’d received the devastating proof that Henry wasn’t his son he had been left with a void inside him where his heart had once been, and he had vowed never to lay himself open to that level of pain ever again.

  His father had spent his life avoiding making emotional attachments, Leandro thought cynically. It was the only trait of Silvestro’s that he was determined to emulate. His mother, on the other hand, had fallen in love dozens of times, with men who had broken her heart, but she hadn’t loved the one person who had adored her—her son.

  Leandro forced his thoughts back to the present and Marnie’s unexpected behaviour. What the hell had got into her? He hadn’t tried to stop her from leaving the party because he’d been concerned that she would create a scene in front of his staff. But that was shocking in itself, because generally she was mild natured and until recently had seemed content to take a backstage role in his life.

  He frowned as he recalled that when he had phoned her from New York a couple of days ago she had sounded odd, unlike her usual cheerful self. He had almost been tempted to ask if something had upset her. But he hadn’t gone down that route, reminding himself that she was his mistress and he neither sought nor offered to share personal confidences with her.

  It might be a good thing that she had demonstrated this volatile side to her character, he brooded. He was frankly stunned that he had allowed their affair to continue for a year, and if Marnie was going to start making emotional demands on him it was time to think about replacing her in his bed.

  He was aware that several of his senior staff were trying to catch his attention and told himself to forget about Marnie and enjoy the party. But he had glimpsed the sparkle of tears in her eyes before she’d hurried away from him and his conscience was pricked.

  He guessed she would take a cab back to his house in Chelsea because she had nowhere else to go. She had told him that her mother had died a few months before they’d met and her only other relatives lived in Norfolk.

  Leandro gulped down the rest of his champagne and swore beneath his breath. Experience had taught him that women were nothing but trouble, and he did not know why he was surprised that Marnie was no different from all the rest. She wasn’t his responsibility, but she was upset, and he acknowledged that he was partly to blame.

  He walked over to his deputy CEO and spoke to him briefly before he phoned his chauffeur and requested to be collected from the party.

  * * *

  Marnie emerged from the air-conditioned restaurant into what felt like a furnace. The summer heatwave had lasted for weeks, and London was sweltering in unusually high temperatures. Even at eight o’clock in the evening the sun was a burning golden disc in the sky, and she was conscious of her dress sticking to her as she walked dispiritedly towards the bus stop.

  She couldn’t believe she had stormed out of the party like that. Leandro had looked shocked by her loss of temper and it was hardly surprising that he had not followed her after she had yelled at him like a fishwife.

  More tears filled her eyes. What was wrong with her? She never cried.

  Even when her brother Luke had been killed in a motorbike accident she had bottled up her grief, and maybe that was why she still felt his loss acutely, five years later. Growing up with her chronically depressed mother had made her fearful of allowing herself to feel deep emotions. She was scared that if she cried for Luke she might never be able to stop. Besides, she’d had to stay strong for her other brother, Jake, who had been devastated by his twin’s death. And she had done her best to take care of her mother, as she had done since she was eleven, when her father had left home.

  She leaned against the bus shelter and gave a deep sigh. This past year that she had lived with Leandro had been the happiest time she’d known since she was a child, when her family had still been together. But even back then there had been problems in her parents’ marriage. Memories of her parents’ frequent rows, when her dad had accused her mum of smothering him with her possessiveness, had taught Marnie that she must give Leandro space.

  She had certainly tried to do that. It occurred to her that she knew barely any more about him now than when they had first met. He had never introduced her to his friends or family, and the only pieces of personal information he had revealed were that his father lived in New York and his mother had been a famous musical theatre star who had died ten years ago.

  She did not know why it suddenly mattered that Leandro kept so much of his private life secret from her. She’d been prone to odd mood swings lately, and maybe that explained why she felt so hurt by his cavalier treatment of her. But her forgiving nature was quick to point out that he was a millionaire business tycoon who had a high-octane lifestyle and he couldn’t make her his top priority all the time.

  She had been looking forward to his return from New York because she was excited about telling him her amazing news. It was still hard to believe that not only had she gained a first-class honours degree in astrophysics, but had earned the highest exam marks in the country. Leandro would certainly be surprised. She chewed on her lip. Maybe she should have told him before now that for the past year she had worked only one day a week as a waitress in the cocktail bar, and on the other days had studied astronomy, space science and astrophysics at a top London university.

  Marnie heard her mother’s voice in her mind. ‘Why do you want to study astronomy? What’s the use in looking at stars and planets? You need to train for a proper job instead of setting your sights on an impossible dream.’

  The teachers at the rough comprehensive school she’d attended had been similarly dismissive of her chances of becoming an astronomer, but she had worked hard at school and ignored the bullies who had called her a geek because she’d enjoyed science lessons. Even though she had been accepted at a top university back then she had lacked confidence in her abilities, and she’d decided to wait to see if she passed her final exams before she told Leandro about her dream of becoming an astronomer.

  Now that dream was a step closer to being fulfilled. She had been offered a place on an internship programme to study towards a doctoral degree at NASA’s research academy in California. It would necessitate her moving to the States temporarily, and she hoped Leandro would understand that they would have to have a long-distance relation
ship for nine months while she was studying in America.

  Marnie glanced along the road, hoping to see a bus approaching. Her heart lurched when a black saloon car with dark-tinted windows drew up against the pavement and the rear door opened. Leandro’s face was shadowed in the dim interior of the car, but his steel-grey eyes gleamed with hard brilliance.

  ‘Get in the car, Marnie.’

  She almost sagged with relief that he had come after her. But the rebellious streak that seemed to be intent on causing trouble argued that she could not allow him to continue to walk all over her, that she should stand up for herself a bit more because she did not want to be his ‘dirty little secret’.

  While she hesitated, Leandro drawled, ‘I will only ask you once, cara.’

  Copyright © 2016 by Chantelle Shaw

  ISBN: 978-1-474-04416-5

  A RING FOR VINCENZO’S HEIR

  © 2016 Jennie Lucas

  Published in Great Britain 2016

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

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