Celebration: Italian Boss, Ruthless RevengeOne Magical ChristmasHired: The Italian’s Convenient Mistress
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‘Elijah!’ Embarrassed to be so very naked whilst he was still so very dressed, she moved to right the imbalance. Only he wasn’t listening, was pushing her back on the sofa in one easy motion and pulling her bottom down in a seemingly practised manoeuvre.
‘Relax,’ Elijah growled—and she promptly didn’t! Between intimate kisses he ripped off his jumper and set back to work. ‘Relax,’ he said again, diving eagerly between her legs.
‘I can’t …’ she quivered, wondering if she should just fake it to get it over with. She was assailed with visions of Enid walking in, banging her gloves before releasing Guido from his stroller, but—oh, heavens above—it did feel nice.
‘I put the chain on the door.’ He countered her thoughts, countered her everything. With every wriggle of her discomfort his concentration deepened—as if he was actually enjoying himself.
‘I want to do this …’ He answered her thought and suddenly she didn’t want to think, couldn’t really think of anything other than this. Couldn’t think of anything other than Elijah, with his soft, soft lips, coaxing her with little flicks of his masterful tongue, sucking her most tender centre as she swelled beneath him. A moan began building in her throat, her fingers knotting in his hair now, and he read each gasp, each guttural moan, just did it so right she was putty in his hands. She could see her knees trembling, could see her thighs convulsing, could feel his hot breath, the dart of his tongue. And then he stopped, for a beat of a second that had her weeping. ‘It is my privilege.’
He captured her clandestine pulse with his lips till there was surely nothing else to give, nothing else to take. He depleted every reserve till she was utterly spent, and only then did he kneel up, looking into her reeling eyes as he pulled her down in front of the fire. She could see him rising over her, see the curved outline of his shoulder in the fading light, hear the last spits of the fire as it died, unattended, and glimpsed the potent length of his erection that replenished her. She felt the greedy relish of an inexhaustible supply as he stabbed inside, her name a mantra as he said it over and over, as he bucked inside, as he sent her into freefall.
‘I feel guilty for feeling …’ He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. The fire had gone out, the light had long since gone. Just the fairy lights guided them.
‘I know.’
‘With all that has happened.’ He was on his back, his chest rising with each breath, his stomach hollow as her fingers played with his dark mass of hair. ‘You change my life.’
Her hand stilled as she heard the reverence in his words. The dewy glow of their lovemaking was too long gone for these utterances.
‘You’ve changed mine too …’
His curse wasn’t perhaps the expected response, but was entirely merited when the door was buckling under the weight of its chain—and a frantic thirty seconds ensued. They pulled on clothes and hid knickers, arriving breathless and drunk on guilt to open the door as Enid marched in, with Tony carrying a dozing Guido, and promptly stamped her feet and banged her gloves.
‘You’re sure about letting me use Tony to take me to my sister’s?’
‘Absolutely,’ Elijah unusually enthused—just a hint of colour on his normally deadpan face. ‘How was it?’
‘Okay.’ Enid shrugged, breathing white air in the hallway as winter followed her in, picking up a bag of presents for her family. ‘What did you two do?’
‘Oh …’ A useless liar at the best of times, Ainslie turned puce. ‘This and that. So, how were the Castellas?’
‘Much the same.’ Enid gazed sadly over to Guido ‘They didn’t go to much effort. Still, they bought him a lovely present … all little glove puppets of animals. They got it at the airport in Italy for him. It’s here …’ She started rummaging beneath the stroller, but Elijah halted her.
‘You’ve done enough—go to your sister’s now, and have time with your family.’
‘It’s no trouble for me to put the little one to bed.’
‘No,’ Elijah insisted. ‘We can manage.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Enid said, turning for the door and then changing her mind. ‘I can’t say I was expecting to, but I’ve actually had a really lovely day—it’s been a wonderful Christmas. Oh, and Mr Vanaldi, just so you know—’ this time as she headed for the door she didn’t turn around ‘—you’ve got your jumper on inside out.’
Ainslie adored that he blushed.
Even a few hours later, as they lay in bed, he simultaneously stroked her thigh and gnashed his teeth in a wince when Ainslie suddenly remembered how they’d been caught. His sallow cheeks actually darkened as over and over she tried another tack to dispute what Enid must have thought.
‘Maybe we were trying on our new Christmas presents?’
‘Ainslie …’
‘Or we got too hot …’ She let out a peal of nervous laughter, then a groan. ‘She thinks I’m a nymphomaniac—I mean, she’s always catching us. She even told me off for leaving my wet nightdress at the bottom of the shower.’
‘She’ll think we’re acting like any normal engaged couple,’ Elijah soothed, and changed the subject. ‘Actually, my friend Roberto would dispute that—but then his fiancée isn’t anywhere near as good-looking as you.’
‘And we don’t have the ghastly pressure of a wedding to put us off!’ Ainslie attempted, but it was hopeless, and they both knew it—especially with what he offered next.
‘Maybe we just found each other?’
And she wanted him to seal it with a kiss, wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her again. But Elijah was suddenly pensive.
‘They stopped to buy a present?’ Elijah frowned. ‘When I heard the news I took my passport, wallet and laptop. I had to buy a phone charger and adapter plug at the airport … it wouldn’t have entered my head to buy Guido a present.’
‘People react differently, I guess,’ Ainslie said, and though she didn’t want to spoil the moment, somehow she knew honesty must prevail. ‘Dina said something to me at the funeral.’ He didn’t push, didn’t say anything—just held her till she was ready to reveal. ‘She didn’t say it directly, but—well, she offered me money to leave you …’ And she waited for the rip to drag her under, for the inevitable explosion, only it never came—two strong arms wrapped more tightly around her.
‘Sleep now.’ Elijah kissed her hair. ‘It’s okay.’
He could feel her relax in his arms—her problem shared, perhaps, but not halved. He was tempted to rouse her from her slumber, to tell her his fears. But what purpose could that serve? And if he did tell her—why would she stay?
Staring down, he saw the cupid’s bow of her mouth, her eyelids flickering in sleep that eluded him, and he wanted her to leave—wanted to wake her now and tell her to get out of the cesspit he was exposing her to.
Guido.
His brain tightened, his heart pounding in his chest as it struggled to keep rhythm with the sudden division of loyalties—wanting her to go, needing her to stay.
Needing her.
‘Go to sleep.’ He said it out loud again, only this time to Maria—to the soul he could feel hovering, guarding her baby, willing him to listen. ‘I will take care of it—Buon Natale.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘HE SHOULD be with Enid.’
‘Sorry?’ Creeping back into bed at dawn, having settled Guido, Ainslie frowned into the darkness.
‘Enid should be the one getting up to him at night. She is employed as a live-in housekeeper and nanny—it should not be you getting up to him.’
‘I don’t mind, though …’ Ainslie yawned, hoping to get back to sleep, waiting for the warmth of his arms. But whatever they had found last night seemed to be fading with the dawn.
‘It is not a question of minding—if you were my real fiancée you would not be waking to a baby all night—I will have his crib moved in the morning,’ Elijah said, his mind made up, and rolled on his side, away from Ainslie.
But she was having none of it. S
he sat up in bed and talked to his broad shoulders, watching them stiffen as she defied his sudden decisions.
‘If I were your real fiancée I certainly would be waking up to him—and if I were your real fiancée, then we’d be discussing this sort of thing, rather than you jackbooting about, giving out orders.’
‘Then it’s just as well that you’re not.’
Watching Tony take down the crib and move it up to the top floor, Ainslie felt as if she herself were being dismantled—everything she sometimes glimpsed in Elijah, the man she so foolishly had thought she was getting to know, had been taken and moved and put back together again. Only no matter how she looked, how she tried to pretend it was okay, it didn’t fit its new surrounds.
‘I’m going out for the afternoon.’ Elijah found her in the master bedroom, standing where Guido’s crib had been, staring out of the window and glimpsing Guido’s future.
‘Is that how it’s going to be for him?’ Ainslie turned to face him. ‘Left to be amused by the nanny while you go out? Sleeping out of earshot so he doesn’t disturb your rest?’
‘You blow things out of proportion.’
‘No, Elijah, I don’t. What the hell could be so important that you have to go out on Boxing Day? Ms Anderson’s right—this should be time you’re spending with him, forging some sort of bond, not distancing yourself … distancing him.’
‘Guido doesn’t seem to mind—he’s downstairs with Enid, playing with his new things.’
‘He’s fifteen months old, for goodness’ sake!’
‘Exactly my point!’ Elijah shrugged, but didn’t leave it there. ‘In fact, the only person who seems to have a problem with my going out is you, which leads me to question your motives, Ainslie. Don’t use my nephew to try and trap me with a guilt trip, just to satisfy your own curiosity. I’m going out.’
And in that lull between Christmas and New Year, when you never knew if the post office or the bank was open, when the decorations were still up and there was no need to go out because the fridge was full to bursting, it was almost as if the universe gave people a chance to find each other. Only Elijah didn’t seem to want to take it.
Elijah paced the floors as if he were in some tiny enclosure. When he wasn’t on the phone, or in the study on his computer, he ignored the services of his driver and took himself out at every opportunity, leaving Ainslie to amuse herself and giving herself plenty of time to think.
‘I’ll be a couple of hours.’
‘You’re going to work?’ Enid blinked, voicing Ainslie’s thoughts exactly. ‘Why?’
‘There are a couple of properties I want to look at.’
As Enid shrugged and headed out of the kitchen Elijah explained further. ‘I have a lot of properties in London—a lot of contacts. There’s no reason to stop working just because I’m stuck here.’
‘Stuck here?’
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘But it’s the holidays.’
‘Which means bills are starting to come in—the perfect time to put in a low offer.’
‘And make a fortune out of other people’s misery?’
‘It’s my job.’ Elijah shrugged. ‘And one I do well. Buy yourself something for the New Year’s party—it will be black tie, which means—’
‘I know what black tie means!’ Ainslie snapped.
‘I was about to say that we’ll have to ask Enid to babysit. Can you see to that?’
‘I’ll tell Tony too.’
‘We’re getting a lift with friends—I’ve given Tony the night off.’
Oh, it was a very nice life—if that was what you wanted.
A babysitter on hand and a driver to whisk her wherever she wanted to go. Trailing around the shops whilst Tony walked behind her, carrying the bags. Her mission was to choose a new wardrobe for little Guido more befitting his new status, and, on Elijah’s instructions, a set of luggage for him too, in readiness for his upcoming jet set existence. Oh, and an outfit for herself for the New Year’s Eve party Elijah had told her they were going to.
Told her.
A very nice life for some. Only it wasn’t what Ainslie wanted—not for her and certainly not for Guido.
Especially when that night again Elijah missed Guido’s bath and bedtime. When again his ‘couple of hours’ stretched to midnight, and dinner out was apparently required to close whatever deal was being made. When he climbed in bed beside her, even though he pulled her in close, Ainslie could sense his distraction, could feel the restless energy beside her. She knew he was working up to telling her something, staring at the curtains before finally he managed to say what was on his mind.
‘I might have to go to Italy for a few days …’
‘You can’t take Guido out of the country.’
‘I know …’ Elijah gave a long sigh. ‘We have to go to this party on New Year’s Eve, but then I have to go. I’ll fly out on New Year’s Day.’
‘But surely …’ Ainslie bit her tongue. She didn’t want to nag, didn’t want to question, but shivers of jealousy and doubt seemed to be climbing up her oesophagus. That he could even think of leaving now was an enigma to her. ‘You’ve got an appointment with Ms Anderson on the second.’
‘Which you’re going to have to handle. Look, Ms Anderson has to realise that I have a life, a job—a job that I’ve put on hold since the accident. I have commitments, employees. I walked out on my life with two minutes’ notice—surely, surely,’ he hissed, ‘she should be able to accept that I have things to do.’
How did he do it? Ainslie wondered. How did he make the unreasonable so reasonable? How did he always manage to twist things till the impossible made perfect sense?
Well, not this time.
‘He’s your nephew, Elijah.’ She turned to face him. ‘Your orphaned nephew who you’re engaged in a bitter custody battle to keep. The Castellas are ringing every day—you know as well as I do that the second you leave the country they’re going to demand he stay with them.’
‘He will stay here!’ Elijah retorted. ‘In his home. And you are to be with him at all times—if the Castellas come to the door they are not to be let in. Look, if you’re not up to dealing with the appointment I will ring Ms Anderson to reschedule, but the fact is I have things to attend to, and if that deems me an unsuitable surrogate father—then maybe I am.’
‘You have no intention of changing, do you?’
‘Why should I?’ Elijah retaliated. ‘Unlike you—I actually liked my old life. Off to the spare room again?’ he drawled, as Ainslie sprang out of bed and pulled on her wrap. ‘Are you going to run off every time you don’t get your own way?’
‘I was going to the loo, actually,’ Ainslie bit back, heading down the hall and sitting on the edge of the bath, dragging in air and trying to calm down. But she couldn’t.
Every word he’d said made seemingly perfect sense.
Only to Ainslie it didn’t.
She could sense the shift that had occurred, could almost feel him slipping away … and not just from her, from little Guido too.
‘You should go out.’ Enid was utterly insistent.
Feeling guilty as all hell, Ainslie ducked her face from Guido’s wet kisses so as not to spoil her professionally applied make-up. Wrapped in a bathrobe, so as not to blemish her rapid tan, and a silk scarf to keep her false curls from frizzing, Ainslie fed Guido his turkey and mash.
‘It’s New Year’s Eve,’ Enid pushed on. ‘And if you are going to have Guido—well, he’s going to have to get used to the fact you two go out.’
‘But we won’t as much.’ Ainslie shivered, trying to say the right thing, but finding it harder with each and every word.
Elijah’s mobile phone was constantly trilling, and his laptop was always on. Invitations thudded onto the mat as the world caught up to the fact that Elijah Vanaldi was in town. The thought of spreading her wings and fluttering into Elijah’s real world had her dripping in cold sweat, but all that she could deal with—all that
she could cope with blindfolded—if Elijah just met her halfway. If the man she had glimpsed, the uncle Guido so richly deserved, might somehow return.
Dragging her mind back to the conversation, Ainslie knew she was trying to convince herself as much as Enid. ‘We won’t be going out as much. Not now we’ve got Guido to think of.’
‘Of course you will,’ Enid huffed in her no-nonsense way. ‘I Googled him.’
‘Googled him?’
‘Mr Vanaldi—Elijah. So don’t try and tell me that you two don’t love the high life—your life isn’t going to suddenly stop, so off you go and enjoy yourselves. After all you’ve been through you both deserve it.’
Maybe they did.
Maybe a night out was just what they needed. Perhaps she was starting to go stir-crazy, confined to the house and the park. Elijah was used to parties and glamour and running on adrenaline. Of course it couldn’t just end because of Guido—he’d work out a compromise, and tonight so would she!
Staring in the full-length mirror, Ainslie almost had herself convinced! The pale pink raw silk, hand-beaded dress with matching coat had looked appalling on the hanger—like some rosé impersonation of the Christmas tree in the lounge. But once on—once set against a backdrop of spiralling blonde curls and a necklace to die for, with indecently high soft grey stilettos and lashings of silver eyeshadow—somehow, somehow it worked.
Unlike them.
Everything they’d found at Christmas seemed lost. The hands that had adored her hadn’t been near her in days, the mouth that had kissed her derisive now, and she truly didn’t get him—couldn’t fathom that he would consider leaving for Italy so close to Social Services making its decision.
That he should simply walk away from something he insisted he wanted.
‘You look lovely!’ Enid beamed as Ainslie tripped down the stairs. ‘Tony’s in the kitchen—I’m just making him a cuppa.’