She couldn’t take a step. She couldn’t work her vocal cords to make a sound.
It didn’t matter.
Daniele was before her in moments, his face grim and twisted. He didn’t hesitate, simply grabbed hold of her and pulled her to him to crush her against his chest, holding her so tightly that she couldn’t breathe.
‘Don’t you ever do that to me again,’ he said into her hair, speaking in a voice she’d never heard before. ‘Do you hear me? Don’t you ever leave me.’
Managing to dislodge herself enough to look up at him, she realised with complete shock why his voice sounded so different.
Daniele was crying.
He took her face roughly in his hands and brought his down to hers, his salty tears falling onto her cheeks.
‘I thought you were dead.’ His voice broke completely. ‘I saw the damage to the barrier and thought you’d gone over.’
And then he was kissing her, her mouth, her cheeks, her nose, her eyes; smothering her, the kisses born of desperation and relief. Then with an oath he crushed her to him again, one hand tight around her waist, the other wrapping itself in her hair.
‘I have never been so scared in my life. I thought I’d lost you.’
‘Never,’ she whispered, her words muffled against his sweater. ‘I’m sorry for—’
‘Don’t,’ he cut her off. ‘Dio, Eva...’
For a long time, they just stood there clinging to each other, Daniele’s heart thudding heavily against her ear, her heart thudding heavily against his abdomen, his mouth pressing into the top of her head.
‘You’re mine, Eva Pellegrini,’ he whispered. ‘You belong to me and I will never let you go again.’
She’d never thought she would want to hear those words but hearing them from Daniele’s lips made her heart swell with such joy the tears started falling again.
‘And I belong to you,’ he continued in the same low voice. ‘My heart is yours to do with as you will. You’re my wife and I love you. I would do anything for you. Anything. I want you to have my babies and I want to wake up beside you every day and know you are mine and that we belong together. I want to wear your ring on my finger as you wear mine. I’m sorry for the cruel things—’
‘Don’t,’ she said, this time the one to cut him off. No explanations were needed. They knew each other too well for that. ‘We both said cruel things.’ She raised herself to breathe into his neck. ‘I love you.’
‘Not as much as I love you.’
‘More.’
‘Not possible.’
He took her face in his hands again and their tears mingled as his lips found hers and he kissed her with such tender passion that it was as if the fading sun had given one last burst of energy to shine a spotlight on them.
When a car drove past them and honked loudly at their entwined figures, Daniele broke the kiss with a laugh.
‘Let’s go home, wife.’
‘As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go, husband.’
EPILOGUE
THE FAMILY WING of the castello was completely overrun with children. Everywhere Daniele went he seemed to tread on some toy or other and had grinned wickedly when he’d seen his cousin Matteo walk barefoot onto a tiny building block.
Daniele’s three children were playing hide-and-seek with their cousins. After the game of War Against the Girls, this seemed safer. His sister’s son Sergio, a sturdy six-year-old with his mother’s bossy nature, had teamed up with Daniele’s middle child, Pieta. The two imps had stalked then cornered the two older girls, Matteo and Natasha’s shy daughter Lauren, and his and Eva’s oldest daughter Tessel, and fired a round of rubber bullets at them. There had been lots of screams and name calling after that.
Those damn rubber bullets got everywhere. He wondered if his mother knew she had one stuck in her hair.
He dreaded to think what kind of state the place would be in tomorrow when all the Christmas presents had been opened.
Sneaking out of the living room, he dodged small children and threw himself into his bedroom with mock relief.
Eva was on the bed, reading, the look on her face serene.
‘Escaping again?’ she queried with a raised brow.
‘It’s all right for you,’ he grumbled, getting onto the bed and snuggling up next to her. ‘You’ve got a perfect excuse to escape the carnage.’
His beautiful wife was two weeks away from giving birth to their fourth child. This meant she could legitimately hide herself away when the noise rose to the level of a rock concert on the pretext that she needed to rest.
‘You can carry the next one if you want,’ she teased.
‘The next one? You want five children?’
‘No.’ She grinned. ‘I was thinking of six.’
Completely unable to resist, he kissed her. ‘I’m happy to keep going until you say stop.’
She hooked an arm around his neck. ‘You might live to regret that.’
It amazed him that even now, after six years together and with Eva huge with child, he still desired her as much as he ever had.
But there was no chance to act on it when their bedroom door flew open and Pieta and Sergio charged in.
‘Mamma, Papa, Father Christmas is here!’ Pieta shouted, his little face alight with glee.
‘Really? Are you sure?’
‘He’s really here,’ Sergio confirmed, nodding his head vigorously. ‘Mamma says you’ve got to stop playing alone with Aunty Eva and come!’
Exchanging a secret smile with his wife, Daniele helped her off the bed and they all went back into the living room, where Father Christmas was making bellows of ‘Ho-ho-ho!’ whilst drinking a large glass of red wine.
If any of the children cared to look beneath the bushy white beard they would see the less bushy black beard of his macho brother-in-law Felipe who, much to his disgust, had been coerced into playing Father Christmas a number of years ago, and now found himself stuck with the role every year. And every year Daniele’s evil sister would cackle like a loon to watch him do it.
‘Your sister is evil,’ Eva whispered into his ear, her thoughts, as was so often the case, concurring perfectly with his.
‘She certainly is,’ he agreed, kissing her temple.
From the corner of his eye he saw Matteo and Natasha whispering together with giggles and felt quite sure they were saying the same thing. Or maybe they were laughing at Aunt Rachele, who’d fallen asleep with a glass of sherry still in her hand.
All his family. All here together. Just how he liked it.
And, best of all, his Eva was holding his hand and tonight he would go to bed and make very gentle love to her.
She was definitely his happy Eva after.
* * * * *
Read on for an extract from THE TYCOON’S MARRIAGE DEAL by Melanie Milburne.
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
When chauffeur Keira Ryan drives into a snowdrift, she and her devastatingly attractive passenger must find a hotel…but there’s only one bed! Luckily Matteo Valenti knows how to make the best of a bad situation—with the most sizzling experience of her life. It’s nearly Christmas again before Matteo uncovers Keira’s secret. He’s avoided commitment his whole life, but now it’s time to claim his heir…
Read on for a sneak preview of Sharon Kendrick’s book
THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS SECRET
One Night With Consequences
‘Santino?’ Matteo repeated, wondering if he’d misheard her. He stared at her, his brow creased in a frown. ‘You gave him an Italian name?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because when I looked at him…’ Keira’s voice faltered as she scraped her fingers back through her hair and turned those big sapphire eyes on him ‘…I knew I could call him nothing else but an Italian name.’
‘Even though you sought to deny him his heritage and kept his birth hidden from me?’
She swallowed. ‘You made it very clear that you never wanted
to see me again, Matteo.’
His voice grew hard. ‘I haven’t come here to argue the rights and wrongs of your secrecy. I’ve come to see my son.’
It was a demand Keira couldn’t ignore. She’d seen the brief tightening of his face when she’d mentioned his child and another wave of guilt had washed over her.
‘Come with me,’ she said huskily.
He followed her up the narrow staircase and Keira was acutely aware of his presence behind her. She could detect the heat from his body and the subtle sandalwood which was all his and, stupidly, she remembered the way that scent had clung to her skin the morning after he’d made love to her. Her heart was thundering by the time they reached the box-room she shared with Santino and she held her breath as Matteo stood frozen for a moment before moving soundlessly towards the crib.
‘Matteo?’ she said.
Matteo didn’t answer. Not then. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to speak because his thoughts were in such disarray. He stared down at the dark fringe of eyelashes which curved on the infant’s olive-hued cheeks and the shock of black hair. Tiny hands were curled into two tiny fists and he found himself leaning forward to count all the fingers, nodding his head with satisfaction as he registered each one.
He swallowed.
His son.
He opened his mouth to speak but Santino chose that moment to start to whimper and Keira bent over the crib to scoop him up. ‘Would you…would you like to hold him?’
‘Not now,’ he said abruptly. ‘There isn’t time. You need to pack your things while I call ahead and prepare for your arrival in Italy.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. You can’t put out a call for help and then ignore help when it comes. You telephoned me and now you must accept the consequences,’ he added grimly.
Don’t miss
THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS SECRET
By Sharon Kendrick
Available November 2017
PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY TODAY
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Copyright ©2017 Sharon Kendrick
ISBN: 978-1-474-05295-5
BUYING HIS BRIDE OF CONVENIENCE
© 2017 Michelle Smart
Published in Great Britain 2017
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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Buying His Bride of Convenience Page 17
