by Rachel Lyndhurst; Carmen Falcone; Ros Clarke; Annie Seaton; Christine Bell
“Now.”
Heat coiled in her muscles, making her entire body rigid. Her wrists pressed hard against the headboard as she groaned his name, spinning out of consciousness as orgasm took her and his release came, too, just as she had commanded.
They lay locked together for some moments, breathing hard, and so intimately fused it seemed impossible that they could be parted.
“You’re a wicked woman,” he murmured, his heart still hammering so hard she could feel it from where she was pinned under his shoulder. “It’s not happened that quickly since I was a teenager.”
“Good,” she whispered and licked long and slow at the soft skin of his inner arm. “That’s how I planned it.”
Chapter Nine
Lora awoke with a start. There were whistles and lots of shrieking. She rubbed her eyes. And now she could hear Vanessa’s voice outside down below the bedroom, sounding as if she was trying to whisper, but failing because of the noisy havoc outside. It took a second more to get her bearings; she was lying under Lorenzo’s arm and must have been for some hours because her neck felt stiff and uncomfortable. Memories of the night before came flooding back when she looked up at him. That was some night…
“I think somebody’s trying to tell us to get up,” she whispered against his neck and felt him jolt awake. “Sorry,” she added quickly as he recoiled from her with surprise. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What?” He squinted at her and rubbed the dark stubble on his chin, then shook his head from side to side. “I was in a dead sleep, wasn’t sure where I was for a moment.”
“How on earth can you sleep through that?” She pointed toward the part-opened shutters that led on to the private bedroom balcony.
“Ah…now that’s a sound I’ve not heard for a while,” he said, his voice croaky. “Granny has been up to her old tricks again.”
“Rosa?”
“Afraid so. It’s one of her favorites. She gives them both a silver whistle and promises them gelato if they blow them hard for as long as possible until I get out of bed to tell them off. But only if Mamma is pretty sure I’m not sleeping alone.”
“That’s wicked!” Lora laughed and sat up straight, pulling the edge of the bed sheet over her naked breasts. “But funny. I’ll have to remember that trick if I ever have grandchildren of my own.”
He eased up onto his elbows before swiveling to sit on the edge of the bed. “Not so funny if I’m having a bad morning.” He rubbed his hands roughly through his hair and stood up to fetch a robe. It was the first time Lora had had the opportunity to stare at him stark naked for any length of time and his physique took her breath away. She’d felt the hard knots of his shoulders, tasted his soft skin, and dug her nails in the powerful muscles of his buttocks, but nothing had prepared her for the golden gleam of his skin over all that strength. He was beautiful.
“I can’t wait to meet them. Let’s wave at them from the balcony.”
“No. That would be inappropriate.”
His words stung. She remained his dirty little secret as far as his personal life was concerned and his adored fiancée when it came to some business deal. Charming. She shouldn’t take it to heart; she’d agreed to the rules and then rolled obligingly into his bed, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t challenge him. “It wouldn’t?”
“We’re not dressed, and I don’t want the girls asking awkward questions.”
“I’m sure a couple of five year olds aren’t going to mind what their dad’s wearing. They just want your attention.” The whistling grew louder, and Lora was sure she heard Vanessa squeak with exasperation. “Go on, go out there and say hello to the poor mites. I’ll stay well out of the way, don’t worry.”
He glanced at her and hesitated before pulling on his robe. “Okay. And thank you. I’ll introduce you after breakfast.”
“Whatever you say,” she said, realizing that Lorenzo’s household ran on a strict set of rules and she was subject to them as much as anyone else.
…
Lora watched Lorenzo closely as he wiped away breakfast crumbs with a hand-embroidered napkin and stood up to take a foil of Ibuprofen out of his jeans pocket. She put her teacup down with a firm click. “Headache?”
“Not yet, but I could have one coming on. I’ll take one in case.”
“At least you ate properly this morning.” She ignored his raised eyebrow; it was a warning signal, she knew that. “The coffee might aggravate it, you know.”
“Thank you, Mammina,” he replied, swallowed the pill with a large slug of black coffee, and shot her a defiant glare. “But I like coffee in the morning. In fact, I like black coffee most of the time.”
Their eyes locked at the sound of high-pitched and excited voices approaching. “I can guess who this is.” Lora twisted around in her chair to look across the terrace.
“Papa! Papa!” cried the tallest girl, all skinny legs, auburn plaits, and freckles. “You came at last!”
“That’s Serafina,” Lorenzo said. “We call her Fina for short, less of a mouthful and certainly less pretentious.”
“And the other little sweetie?” She nodded toward the shorter girl with a long black ponytail who was skipping toward them with a small dog scampering behind her.
“That’s Beatrice, also known as Bee because she’s very noisy and has a tongue that stings when it suits her.”
“Both names are very pretty.” Lora did her best to be diplomatic, assuming by his remark that that Eina’s full name hadn’t been his choice.
He smiled. “You may also have noticed that they’re non-identical twins.”
“I had, but you can still tell they’re sisters.”
“You can?” Lorenzo’s brow furrowed. “I must be too familiar with them to be able to see it.”
“They both have your Roman nose.”
He looked at her suspiciously, and she sensed he thought she was making fun of him. “Long and straight with a neat pointy tip. I’d kill for a nose like that.” She silently congratulated herself because he was smiling a little now.
The two children came skidding to a halt on the stone tiles of the terrace and stood panting as Vanessa charged around the corner behind them. “I’m sorry, Signor Ferrante, they were so excited—”
Lorenzo crossed his arms and frowned down at his daughters. A few moments passed in silence as they gazed up at him and chewed anxiously on their bottom lips. To Lora’s surprise, he spoke to them in English. “You shouldn’t go running around all over the place like that, especially when it makes it hard for Vanessa to keep up with you. What on earth do you think Lora will think of you?”
Two pairs of large inquisitive eyes found her, scanned her from head to toe without showing a flicker of interest, and snapped straight back to the fearsome Lorenzo. Adoration was written all over their tiny faces.
“Sorry, Papa,” they chimed in unison, their excitement unmuted. Bee scuffed her white sandal against the edge of a floor tile, and Fina twiddled with the bow on the front of her orange dress.
“Then come and sit down at the table and behave like civilized human beings for once.” He nodded at Vanessa, who looked more than pleased at being dismissed for the time being. He sat bolt upright and waited until both girls had settled and were silent. “So, this is Lora. She’ll be helping me work for a few weeks. She’s come all this way from England.”
Both pairs of bright untrusting eyes turned on her. “Is she your seckertary?” Fina said and frowned.
“Or is she our new nanny?” Bee chimed in. “Are you sending Vanessa home?”
Lora felt distinctly uncomfortable and was tempted to answer, but she looked to Lorenzo for guidance before opening her mouth, and then she was glad she did, because she wouldn’t have said the right thing.
“Lora is my personal assistant, Fina, which is similar to a secretary, yes. And no, I am not sending Vanessa home yet because Lora and I need her to look after you when we’re busy. And we’re going to be very busy in the next few
weeks.”
Bee’s face lit up. “We like Vanessa.”
“I know you do, but she can’t stay forever, remember? She’ll have to go home after three months like Abi and Michelle did.”
“And Phoebe and Nikki,” Fina said with a sulky pout.
Lorenzo’s upper body stiffened. “That’s the way it has to be, Seraphina. Otherwise, you all get too attached.”
“But we’ll always have Bimbo.” Bee smiled down at the puppy by her side and fondled his silky ears.
“Until he dies,” her sister muttered and glowered into the distance.
“That’s quite enough, Seraphina!” Lorenzo said. “What’s the matter with you today?”
Fina shrugged and sulkily picked at the hem of her dress. “Annoiato, bored.”
It might be a clumsy ploy, but somebody needed to lighten the atmosphere. “It’s a lovely day. How about we go for a ride on the cable car up to Taormina that I’ve been reading about?” Lora tapped cheerfully on the pile of leaflets she’d found in the hall and had brought out to read over breakfast. “If my map reading skills are up to scratch, the terminal is only a few hundred yards’ walk away.”
“I have some calls to make and a meeting to attend this morning,” Lorenzo said before anyone else could answer. “But Gennaro and the team can take you up to town if that’s what you want. No public transport. I forbid it.”
Lorenzo Ferrante was enough to make a saint’s blood boil sometimes. The last thing Lora wanted was to be carted around and then followed by a bunch of his black-suited, aviator-wearing gorillas. She shot him a cold look. “Or we could go down to the beach for the morning. It’s so hot, I’m sure we could all do with cooling off a little.”
The two girls squealed and clapped their hands until Lorenzo stood up and threw his napkin harshly onto his breakfast plate. “We have a pool for that,” he said and pointed to the luxurious palm-fringed oasis to the side of the house.
Lora took a deep breath as his eyes locked with her in challenge. She knew it was a warning, but she could outsmart him if she needed to. “I love the pastries we had for breakfast, ladies. Did you two make them?”
“The cook does that, silly lady,” chirped Bee.
“But do you know how?” Lora persisted. “Does cook let you watch sometimes?”
“Yes, she does,” Fina said with a look of surprise on her face.
“Perhaps you two and cook could teach me, then. My mummy back in England would love them!”
The girls jumped up from their chairs and did a little dance together. “Looks like we can amuse ourselves without you, Signor Ferrante,” Lora said with a tight smile that she knew he would be able to interpret as her being irritated by his dictatorial behavior. “When shall we expect you back? Lunchtime?”
“I’ll be back at about two this afternoon. That’s when we usually have lunch. I don’t want you to spend too much time on your own with the girls. We have things to do, and…” He lowered his voice. “You know how I feel about them not getting too attached to staff…”
She frowned at him. “We’ll be perfectly fine. I’ve spent time with small children before. Professionally. They need to develop social skills somehow, and spending time with safe strangers like me can only help.”
He hesitated. “Okay, see you later. But if you need anything…”
“I can ask one of your ubiquitous security men.” She cocked her head toward a suit leaning against a wall a few hundred yards away. “Now off you go.”
…
Lora leaned back against a rock and scrunched her toes into the hot, white sand of the beach. The bodyguard sat awkwardly at a beachside café, sipping on a glass of iced water, the sun glinting off his sunglasses and the sweat on his brow. It was steaming hot, and Lorenzo would go berserk if he found out she’d defied him and brought the girls down to the beach anyway. The bodyguard had taken some persuading to let them out of the Ferrante compound, but she’d pulled rank in the end and ordered him to do it, which was a very peculiar feeling. It would be worth risking a furious argument, though. Bee and Fina were having the time of their young lives making shapes out of damp sand, sticking shells and lolly sticks into them. They were happy little things doing the stuff that little girls should do without worrying about getting messy or annoying their autocratic papa.
She glanced around at other families, relaxed, sometimes bickering, but all seeming to be having fun at the small golden beach below Lorenzo’s rock face fortress of a villa. Lora felt a shiver run up her spine in spite of the heat as she noticed Lorenzo’s bodyguard approaching them. He looked completely obvious in his formal black suit, striding across the powder-white sand, and her hackles rose when he tapped his watch and a finger reached up to secure the earpiece he wore so conspicuously. She knew their time was up, and to be honest, a couple of hours in the heat was enough for umbrellas, a picnic, and ice creams. Fina’s skin was much paler than Bee’s, and Lora worried that she might burn in spite of all the sunscreen she’d slathered on them. It was easy to forget they were twins, so different and yet so totally bonded to each other. They were fascinating to watch. Bee looked a lot like Lorenzo, but had a sweet temperament. Fina had his haughty, savage intelligence, but she was so fair she must have inherited Ivanka’s cool, leggy, Russian genes.
The bodyguard stood close by and watched over them as Lora stuffed their picnic remains and plastic toys back into her backpack. There’d be sand everywhere when they got back. She made a mental note to give everything a good shake on the terrace before they went back indoors. A few stray grains would be all it would take for Lorenzo to realize what she’d done. She smiled guiltily; maybe he’d be mad enough to explode and let out some of that pent-up Italian emotion. A wicked part of her was tempted to provoke him into doing that, but the sensible part of her would most likely win the day.
Chapter Ten
Lorenzo stared at his knuckles as they hovered over the keyboard of his laptop. He was trying to work on the small print of the deal he was putting together for Pontecorvo, attempting to absorb himself in an activity that would take his mind off Lora and her willful, reckless disobedience, but he was failing miserably. All he was managing to do was stare at a flickering search engine screen and grind his teeth. Was she trying to annoy him deliberately? She was certainly succeeding. He’d cut short his meeting as soon as his security team had told him what she was up to and that she had threatened to get his men fired if they didn’t give in to her demands. They wouldn’t have caved in if he hadn’t given them express permission to do so; they weren’t stupid, and they knew which hand fed them.
He needed to think clearly through the fog of panic and anger and get back in control of his reactions. The important thing was that Lora brought his children home safely, and her bodyguard would make sure of that, along with the surveillance team that had been immediately dispatched to the beach when he’d been informed. And when they were safely back behind the electronic gates, he would deal with her full on. She would know how angry he was with her and make sure she never, ever did anything like it again.
The bizarre thing was he knew she only had the girls’ best interests at heart because nothing would have dragged Ivanka down to a public beach, and they’d nagged him endlessly to let them go. Perhaps he was overprotective? How could he not be in this place, on the island that held so many dark memories and was responsible for so many physical and emotional scars? And still the guilt nagged away at him, the feelings that he could never be a good enough father to those two girls and that they were better off being brought up by other people. Lorenzo Ferrante had been virtually born in the gutter thirty-two years ago and then dragged up into an elite underworld that was fed with dirty money and smeared with blood. He would do his best by them and make sure they became decent, independent women in spite of their roots, in spite of their feckless mother, and in spite of him.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he heard the clatter of sandals on the stone driveway outside and l
aughter. Bimbo the puppy was barking, too, and he could picture the little dog jumping up at his daughters who would be happy and weary from the morning’s activities. And now he was going to be the ogre and spoil it all. He had to. It was has duty to maintain discipline and order. He was in charge.
He listened until he could hear them all getting nearer inside the house and then sprang from his chair to the door of his study. Lora stood at the end of the corridor with guilt etched all over her face. He spoke tersely. “Please call Vanessa to take charge for half an hour and then come straight back here. We need to talk. Alone.”
Her face drained of color. “You’re back early. I thought you said two o’clock.”
“I changed my mind,” he said and glared at her. “Please do as I say.”
He went back into his office without saying another word or even acknowledging the children. They would understand immediately that he was displeased without having to explain himself further because that was how things happened in the Ferrante household, and Ms. Pryce-Howard was about to get a strict lesson in that.
“You wanted a word?” Lora said as she poked her head mischievously round the door. Her tall, slender body slid inside, and she lit up the room with rosy cheeks and a bright, innocent-looking smile. He wasn’t going to fall for it, and he was upset that she may have put his children in jeopardy by taking them off like that. She fidgeted when he remained silent and sighed self-consciously. “Was it something I said or did?”
“Both.”
Her jaw clamped shut, and her eyes dimmed into dark Baltic gray. “Well, get it over with then.”
Her petulance was astonishing. “I’m not stupid, Lora. I knew the minute you instructed my staff to do something they knew I would disapprove of.”
“Okay, I know where this is going, and yes I disobeyed you, but look! All back safe and sound, happy children and no harm done.”
“Your little trip was not approved by me, and you know it.”
“Oh get over it, Lorenzo, it’s not a big deal. Families do it all the time, even without bodyguards.”
