Sexy Billionaires

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘But Paolo…’

  ‘Paolo was about nine then and running around getting into trouble.’

  ‘This man, Stefano Arrigi, took us in. He mentored me.’ He shrugged. ‘Said he saw something in me that he’d never seen in anyone else, and I worked hard. He had no family. When he died I was twenty-one and he left his small construction business to me.’

  ‘And now the business is known all over the world…’

  He nodded again with no apparent pride. Just quiet modesty.

  Alicia’s heart ached for the young man he’d been…She understood because she too had suffered a similar fate, albeit not ending up on the streets, thank goodness. But somehow she knew that he wouldn’t appreciate her baring her soul, and she still felt far too vulnerable to reveal any more about herself. But it gave her an insight into his complex character and when he stood to lead her inside, clearly done with talking, she knew that, despite her best efforts, she had just fallen even harder in love with him.

  When they returned to their suite the following Sunday evening from a group wine tasting trip to the beautifully leafy area of Stellenbosch, Alicia picked up a piece of paper that gave the details of a medical unit that was going to be in the hotel for the rest of the conference. She looked at him warily. ‘What’s this about?’

  Dante stood apart from her, arms folded. ‘While I thought you were off sightseeing all last week, I found out from Patricia that you were acting as an impromptu Florence Nightingale…’

  He seemed almost angry. And Alicia had no idea why. It seemed like, no matter what she did, she’d end up annoying him somehow. They’d shared a comparative truce for the rest of the week but all weekend he’d been dark and brooding.

  ‘You don’t have to go to the expense of this. I don’t mind looking after the odd child with sunburn or someone with a tummy upset—’

  He lifted a hand and ticked off fingers. ‘Or a child with a sprained ankle, or a man who can’t sleep, or the receptionist with cramps, or—’

  ‘OK, OK, stop.’ She held up her hands, aghast that he knew this. ‘If I’d known you’d mind so much I wouldn’t have offered to help.’

  Dante’s head whirled with the way the whole anatomy of this relationship—this situation, he corrected angrily—had changed utterly. Alicia had endeared herself not only to his close friends, the O’Briens, but to everyone else too, it seemed. Buchanen’s wife, who had arrived towards the end of last week, was in raptures over the fact that she and Alicia shared the vocation of nursing. He couldn’t move for people stopping him and telling him how great she was, how sweet she was, how kind she was…

  And it was killing him. Because he knew what she was. The facts were stark. Until that baby was born, the jury was out on Alicia and Melanie Parker. And he would be the biggest prize fool to forget it. Because he knew he was in danger of succumbing, believing in the myth. He’d seen the myth before and it had revealed a very ugly truth. This was when he had to be most vigilant.

  He could cope with the fact that Alicia was what she was because he was equipped to deal with a woman like her. But he was angry with her dogged persistence in maintaining this…façade. He forced himself to cool down. Years before, it had affected him, but not any more. He was in control now. No matter what happened. All he was interested in was sating his physical hunger, which burned through him like a bushfire.

  He strolled towards her and tipped her chin up. ‘Oh, I don’t mind, Alicia. I just don’t like sharing you around…that’s all.’

  His possessiveness should have excited her but it didn’t, because the dark coldness in his eyes hinted at an emotion that began and ended with physical desire. He didn’t want her to stop because he cared about her…foolish girl.

  Tears pricked the back of her eyes as he claimed her mouth and the familiar sensations washed through her body. Nothing had changed. He still didn’t trust her, he still thought that she and Melanie had concocted some plan to extort money…and after the end of next week she would be gone, back home.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘IWANT you to come back to Italy and stay with me in Rome.’

  Alicia felt dizzy when Dante said the words. They were so far removed from what she would have expected to hear.

  And lying on her back, naked, with Dante propped up on one arm beside her, also naked and visibly aroused, was not the best place to be when he said that.

  It was the end of the second week. The following evening they were due to fly back to Europe from Cape Town. The negotiations were over and they had been a great success. Buchanen had signed the contracts in a big press conference along with Derek and Dante just yesterday. Work was due to start on the sports stadium within the next year.

  That morning they’d travelled down to a luxurious hideaway hotel in a small town called Arniston Bay on the stunningly picturesque Garden Route. Alicia hadn’t questioned Dante’s impetuous decision, made when one of the South African staff in the hotel had offered to fly them down there on the tiny private hotel jet.

  She’d grabbed at the chance to be alone with him. And all day Alicia had existed in a haze of self-deluded, fuzzy fantasy. She and Dante had explored the white, white sands and rolling dunes and had swum in the dark blue sea.

  And now he was asking her to stay on, to come back and keep indulging in the dream? Her head said, That way lies madness and pain, but her heart just said, Go.

  ‘But…’ she struggled to try and make sense of what he was saying ‘…why would you want that?’

  ‘Because what we have is good…’ Here he ran a hand up over her belly to cup her breast.

  Immediately it tightened and her breathing changed. She pulled his hand down. ‘But—’

  ‘I’m not ready to let you go,’ he cut in arrogantly and placed his hand back on her breast, his fingers trapping her nipple now and making her eyes close as she bit back a moan. She trapped his hand with hers, but that just made it feel even more erotic, with her hand on his over her breast. She took it away again quickly.

  ‘Dante, I’m not some kind of pet…You can’t keep me.’

  ‘And can you really tell me that you’re ready to leave, to walk away from this…?’

  He moved on to his back and pulled her up over him in one fluid movement so that she straddled him. He spread her legs around him with his big hands. She could feel his erection and bit her lip.

  No, she wasn’t ready to leave him…She loved him, like a fool.

  Abruptly he moved again, sitting up and, taking Alicia with him, he lifted her slightly before lowering her back down on to his rigid shaft. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her breasts were crushed against him, her legs wrapped tight around his waist, ankles locked behind him and as he moved and surged within her she looked deep into his eyes as they both crested the wave. It was this intense, this amazing, every single time. And he was right—she couldn’t walk away.

  Breathing jaggedly in the aftermath, sweat on her brow, her limbs shaking, Dante pressed a kiss to her damp neck and asked again, ‘So…what’s it to be?’

  Two Months Later…

  A smile of pure masculine satisfaction curved Dante’s mouth as he walked into his apartment in the centre of Rome. He could hear the shower running and was already imagining Alicia, twisting and turning under the spray, hair in long tendrils down her back.

  He shed his clothes with indecent haste and his smile got bigger as he walked confidently to the door of the bathroom. His desire was as strong as ever, if not even more urgent. He opened the door and saw the small figure through the steam, hands held high washing her hair, lifting her breasts. He stepped in and she jumped in fright.

  ‘Dante!’

  ‘Si…cara. Here, let me do that…’

  She let him turn her so that he could run his hands around her front to cup her soapy breasts. He smiled again against her skin and when he pressed close, letting her feel his erection and a shudder ran through her, he knew that he’d made the right decision in
making Alicia his mistress. Life was good.

  Later, Alicia looked at Dante across the dinner table in the apartment. With each day that went by she was falling deeper and deeper into a dark hole that threatened to engulf her utterly. For the past two months she’d been playing a role—the role of his mistress. A fool’s role. Perfectly compliant, by his side for every occasion and always a smile on her face hiding the fact that, inside, she didn’t even know how her heart kept on beating.

  He was as astoundingly gorgeous as ever. Even more so. He’d let his hair grow a little, which had softened his features. She sighed and played with her wineglass, having to take her eyes away because it simply hurt to look at him.

  He reached across and took her hand, turning it palm up. She steeled herself and looked at him as blandly as she could. ‘There’s a function on this Sunday night for my charity in Milan…and on Saturday we have the annual Lake Como water sports competition for the kids…You will come?’

  As if she had a choice… She could have laughed. What might she say? Actually, no, I want to stay here in Rome in this cool and sterile apartment, alone…

  She forced a smile. ‘Of course, that would be lovely.’

  He smiled too and it made her chest tight. No words of affection, no words of tenderness or love. And Alicia wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer, because she knew that the only reason she’d come at all, had even agreed to this arrangement, was because she had stupidly dreamt that perhaps, with a bit of time to get to know each other, Dante would come to feel something for her. Instead, she’d come to realize that he felt nothing for anybody. His brother, maybe. But that was it.

  The awful thing was, she couldn’t fault him. He was attentive, considerate, generous to a fault…and, as for the bedroom…When he’d surprised her in the shower earlier, it had scared her how much her body still craved his…needed his. Even after this period of time. No, she thought firmly to herself, she would have to be strong, would have to walk away…soon…as soon as she had the strength.

  That Saturday, Dante drove them in a Jeep to the part of the lake which was the water sports centre. They’d arrived at the villa last night from Milan and Alicia had been delighted to see Julieta again, and even had a few words of Italian to try out this time—she’d been taking classes in Rome. The weather was unusually warm for October. In jeans and a T-shirt with a light fleece top, Alicia was relieved to have been able to get some clothes more suited to her own naturally casual style.

  When they arrived about a hundred children ranging from three years old to seventeen, stood milling around near the pontoons. And as soon as they saw the Jeep a huge cheer went up. Alicia couldn’t believe it when Dante stopped and got out; they all rushed forward to greet him, some of the younger ones already tugging at his hands and pulling him forwards. She was so stunned that she nearly fell out of the jeep. He looked back at her and smiled ruefully before he was swallowed in the crush. Alicia had never seen him look so boyish…or happy.

  A young woman with a pleasant smile approached her. ‘You must be Alicia.’

  She nodded and smiled.

  ‘I’m Maria, the manager of the orphanage.’ She gestured to the kids. ‘They’ve been so excited for weeks now; this trip is one of the most popular every year.’

  ‘You mean there are others?’

  Maria nodded. ‘Oh, yes, we have several, here and in Milano—all over Italy, actually. Water sports, activity centres, horse-riding…you name it.’

  Alicia just shook her head, thoroughly bemused now to see Dante and several other instructors in wetsuits striding around and organizing the kids.

  ‘Come on, I’ll show you where you can sit and watch.’

  Alicia followed Maria to a seating area that had a set of bleachers and they sat down. She explained to Alicia that the young adults were all ex-members of the orphanage and street centre who took time to come back and help out.

  Alicia couldn’t stop the ache in her heart. Here was the evidence—she watched as Dante caught a small girl up and held her high, making her laugh—he could love. He did have the capacity. Just not for her. And then she felt awful for even thinking of herself like that when these kids had no one…especially as she had been one. She knew.

  She turned to Maria, pushing down the ache. ‘OK, what can I do to help?’

  Maria looked at her, clearly taken aback. ‘You…you want to help?’

  ‘Of course.’ Alicia stood up. ‘Come on, they all look like they’re having way too much fun without us.’

  That evening, as the sun set and the kids were changing out of their wetsuits, chattering and jumping around, Dante leant against a wall and took a deep slug from a bottle of beer. His eyes darted around and finally found what—who—he was looking for. And when he did, he wished he hadn’t. She was still in a wetsuit, her hair a mass of damp curls on top of her head. She looked about eighteen and she had a queue of children lined up in front of her as she tended to each one, doling out plasters, rubbing cream into cuts and bruises. None of the children were really hurt beyond a couple of flesh wounds from horseplay but he’d never seen them line up like that before. His eyes went back to her. She hugged a little girl tight and kissed her on the head before sending her away with an affectionate pat on the bottom.

  Maria came up beside him, shaking her head in awe, and said in Italian, ‘Dante, she’s—’

  He cut her off ruthlessly. ‘I know.’ He took another sip of his beer. He didn’t want to hear it. Since they’d come back to Italy, since he’d had Alicia more or less to himself apart from the odd social occasion, he’d convinced himself that he’d been in the first flush of some crazy lust phase in South Africa, letting her get to him like that, under his skin.

  Keeping her in his apartment, exclusively for him, all he’d had to think about was sating the physical desire. They’d talked, yes, and he’d been pleased to discover that they had many common interests, her dry sense of humour that was so like his own…but it had only enhanced what was, for him, a very physical affair.

  A short time later Alicia joined him at the Jeep, back in her own clothes. The kids had just been loaded back on to the bus—there had been too many for the plane—and it had pulled away with much beeping and shouting. She couldn’t stop smiling. ‘That was the best day…thank you. I really love—’ She halted under his stern gaze, the words dying.

  He frowned. ‘What is it?’

  She shook her head and he shrugged and went to her door, opening it. Her heart hammered. The words had been trembling on her lips, she’d been about to say, love you. And thank goodness she hadn’t.

  She walked to her door and he helped her in. She watched him walk around the front of the car and thought that she’d never figure him out, even if she had a lifetime.

  That night, back at the villa, they made love with an almost savage intensity. It felt, inexplicably, as if they were heading for some kind of reckoning. As she lay in his arms afterwards, unable to sleep but listening to his breathing even out and deepen, Alicia knew that intensity had come from her because the time had come to walk away. Today she’d felt something close to normal again—interacting with the children, tending to them, had been so rewarding. She knew that with each day that passed she was diminishing more and more and soon she’d be a shadow of her former self.

  ‘I’ll be back this evening at six, the function starts at half past, and Signora Pasquale will deliver the dress at five.’

  ‘Dante, there’s no need for a new dress—it’s crazy—I’ve brought some with me.’

  He shook his head. ‘I told you before, the cost is nothing. And tonight is important.’

  Alicia shrugged and watched him get up from the lunch table.

  They were back in his palazzo in Milan, in preparation for the big charity ball. They’d arrived by helicopter earlier that morning. Patrizia was gone, back to school, and her mother was in residence again.

  When he had gone, Alicia wandered around a little disconsolately. She t
ried to phone Melanie to see how she was but there was no answer at the house in London. And she couldn’t get through on either her mobile or Paolo’s. She wasn’t unduly worried, she knew they usually went for a gentle stroll in the late afternoon if Paolo could get off work early.

  Signora Pasquale’s assistant arriving distracted her and by the time she’d washed and dressed, it was nearly six.

  Alicia heard his steps on the stairs but stayed looking out of the window. He approached behind her, his scent winding around her like a sensual cloak. And, like clockwork, her heart started to thud heavily, her pulse jumped. He came very close then and pressed a kiss to the bare back of her neck, she closed her eyes in response and at the sweet pain that gripped her.

  ‘Bella, Alicia.’

  She turned around then and he swept that hot black gaze up and down, taking in gold chiffon folds that fell from under her bust in layers, down to her feet.

  His brow quirked. ‘Shoes?’

  She stuck out a foot and showed him the funky gold wedges Signora Pasquale had found. She smiled even as her heart ached. ‘I’ve learnt my lesson one too many times now. Me and heels just do not go. Wedges are the way forward.’

  Her hair was piled high, curly tendrils escaping. Golden hoop earrings swung against her slim neck, a single gold bangle encircled her tiny wrist.

  Dante’s chest felt tight. ‘Let’s go.’

  Despite the wedges, Alicia’s feet were beginning to hurt. The dinner was long over but people still milled around the glittering ballroom in one of Milan’s oldest buildings. Dante had given a speech, again showing her, uncomfortably, that if he had a passion for something, he was a force to be reckoned with. She took a sip of champagne, she wasn’t going to wallow in that self-pity again.