She took a deep breath and eased out of his arms so that she could look at him properly. She felt humbled by his admission that he sympathised with her father and now it was time she repaid his honesty with her own. All his life he had believed himself to be flawed in some way. His own mother had told him he was unlovable, and it was little wonder that he had built a protective wall around his heart.
Pride had caused her to deny her feelings for him, and she had cruelly allowed him to believe that she could never love him. How wrong he was!
‘It’s not your fault that you don’t love me,’ she murmured, lifting her chin to bravely meet his gaze. ‘You made it clear from the beginning that you never would, and it’s my own fault that the idea of leaving you … of never seeing you again … breaks my heart.’ She ignored the look of stunned disbelief in his eyes and pressed on while her nerve held. ‘I don’t believe you’re cold and heartless, Javier. You have a heart and as much love inside you as any man—maybe more—but your childhood taught you to bury your emotions and they’re still locked within you, waiting for the right woman to turn the key.’
Suddenly she couldn’t go on and she turned away from him, tears streaming down her face. ‘I wish I was that woman.’ She choked. ‘Because I love you with all my heart. You were right when you guessed the reason why I came to you in Madrid. I couldn’t resist you—but I would never have slept with you if I hadn’t loved you.’
‘Then why were you leaving me?’ In an agony of frustration, Javier spun her round and literally shook her before he dragged her up against the solid wall of his chest. ‘Dios,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘When I forced the car door open and discovered you slumped over the wheel …’ A shudder ran through him and he closed his eyes briefly as tears burned the back of his throat.
The last time he’d cried he had been eight years old, huddled beneath his mother’s caravan after she’d locked him out—hungry and alone. Since then he’d learned to control his emotions, a self-defence mechanism against getting hurt. But Grace could see into his soul. She’d ripped down his defences one by one, leaving him raw and exposed. The memory of those few seconds after the accident when he’d thought he’d lost her were too much to bear, and he buried his face in her hair as tears seeped from beneath his lashes.
‘All my life I have rejected love, until I believed I was immune to it,’ he groaned as he pressed desperate, feverish kisses over her face and throat. ‘But I love you, Grace—more than I thought it possible to love another human being.’
He threaded his fingers into her hair and tilted her face so that he could stare down at her. His amber eyes blazed with so much emotion that Grace wondered how she could have ever thought him cold. It was as if he was making up for all the years that he had locked his feelings away, and when she caught the gleam of moisture in his eyes she wanted to weep for the lonely boy he had once been.
Reaching up on tiptoe, she took his face between her hands and kissed him with all the pent-up love that she had kept hidden for so long. Incredibly, she felt him hesitate before his lips moved over hers with gentle reverence, slow and sweet, in an evocative caress that made her tremble in his arms.
‘At first I kidded myself that I was in control,’ he admitted when he finally lifted his head. ‘I couldn’t keep my hands off you, but I told myself it was just good sex.’ His mouth curved into a rueful smile. ‘The best sex ever—I had never experienced such pleasure, such joy, as when I made love to you. But afterwards I had to force myself to move away from you in case you realised how weak I was where you were concerned.’
‘I thought it was your way of demonstrating that you only wanted me for sex and nothing else,’ Grace whispered shyly. ‘I longed for you to give me some small sign that I meant something to you, and I was so jealous of the easy familiarity you shared with Lucita. I’m sorry I believed her rather than trusting you,’ she murmured shamefacedly, but when she dropped her head Javier lifted her chin.
‘I had done little to earn your trust, querida. Lucita means nothing to me—you are the only woman I’ve ever loved, and I swear I will love you for the rest of my life. I’m just sorry that it took almost losing you to make me acknowledge that fact.’
He kissed her again with a fierce passion that left her in no doubt of the depth of his love for her. Grace curled her arms around his neck and clung to him as he suddenly lifted her into his arms and strode out of her room down the corridor to the master bedroom, where he deposited her in the centre of the huge, four-poster bed.
‘This is where you belong,’ he teased her, but almost instantly his smile faded and his expression became one of stark longing. ‘Tell me this is real, Grace, not just an illusion brought on by my desperation. If you leave me now you’ll take my heart with you.’
Grace knelt up and began to unfasten the buttons of her nightdress. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she promised softly. ‘El Castillo de Leon is my home and I intend to live here with you and the children we’ll one day have for the rest of my life.’ Her voice faltered slightly as she remembered the fragile, fleeting life she had lost. She wasn’t ready to think about another baby yet, but in the future she hoped to fill the castillo with Javier’s children so that he never felt alone again.
She freed the last button and tugged the voluminous nightgown over her head before reaching for him. ‘I want to show you how much I love you,’ she whispered against his mouth. ‘I meant every word of the vows I made on our wedding day. I might not have realised it at the time, but my soul recognised you as its twin and I will never leave you again, even for one day.’
She helped him remove his clothes with feverish haste, and when his body covered hers she held him close, revelling in the feel of his satiny skin beneath her fingertips. At first he seemed content just to kiss her, his mouth an instrument of sweet torture as he trailed a path from her lips to her breasts, where he tenderly stroked each nipple with his tongue until she gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders. He slid his hand over her stomach and with infinite care parted her legs and began to caress her with a butterfly touch, gently stoking the flames of her desire, so that she twisted her hips in a restless invitation.
‘I love you, Grace,’ he groaned as he moved over her and slowly entered her, desperate not to hurt her. ‘Don’t ever leave me.’ The raw vulnerability in his voice made her heart clench, and she wrapped her legs around him to draw him deeper inside her. His childhood scars ran deep, and it might take years of constant reassurance before he was fully confident of her love, but she would tell him every day, in words and deeds, how much he meant to her.
When he began to move, she moved with him, matching his pace as he drove them higher and higher towards that place where only the two of them existed. She heard him groan her name, felt the exact moment his control shattered so spectacularly, and at the same moment her muscles convulsed around him in a climax that was more intense than anything she’d ever experienced.
Eventually his breathing slowed and he rolled off her, but immediately wrapped his arms around her and held her close, stroking her hair with a hand that shook slightly. ‘You are my life, querida,’ he whispered. ‘And I will never let you go.’
Grace snuggled closer still, loving the tender afterglow of their lovemaking. ‘Would you really have sent me back to England?’
‘Certainly—and immediately filed for divorce,’ he said, tightening his grip on her when she gave an audible gasp. ‘Once we were no longer tied together by that hellish marriage contract, I was going to wait a reasonable amount of time—say, one week—before I put my plan into action.’
‘What plan?’ she asked breathlessly, her heart setting up a frantic tattoo at the wicked glint in his eyes.
‘To woo you properly—wine you and dine you and generally be so utterly charming that you wouldn’t be able to refuse me when I asked you to marry me and spend the rest of your life with me.’
‘Oh,’ Grace pouted in disappointment. ‘I rather like the idea of being wine
d and dined, but I’m not a fan of divorce, so we’ll just have to stick together.’
‘Always,’ Javier vowed fervently, and spent the next few minutes showing her in many varied and pleasurable ways just how close he was going to stick to her.
Grace finally untangled herself from him and sat up. ‘I don’t want you to give up your place as head of the bank,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s important to you.’
‘Nothing is as important as you,’ he replied fiercely. ‘I don’t want you to harbour any doubts about why I’m married to you.’ He tugged her back down on top of him. ‘Lorenzo is keen for us to work together and run the bank between us, but ultimately it’s your decision, querida. I am—how do you say?—putty in your hands.’ He inhaled sharply when she trailed her hand over his thigh and groaned when she encircled him with firm fingers.
‘You don’t feel like putty to me,’ she murmured innocently and then gasped with delight when he flipped her onto her back and demonstrated just who was the master of El Castillo de Leon.
EPILOGUE
ON THE first anniversary of their marriage, Javier picked roses for Grace from the gardens of the castillo, but the thorns cut his hands and she insisted that he spend the rest of the day in bed with her to recover.
On their second anniversary he picked roses again, and carefully removed the thorns before laying the bouquet on the bed where she was nursing their month-old son.
‘Rico’s cheeks are as soft as rose petals,’ she murmured when she handed Javier his son and buried her face in the blooms. ‘He’s so adorable, isn’t he? I hope we have lots more like him.’
‘Are you kidding? I couldn’t go through another birth like that,’ Javier muttered with a shudder as he recalled the agonising sixteen hours that he’d watched Grace suffer before Ricardo Herrera had finally made his entry into the world. He brushed his lips over Rico’s cheek and felt his heart clench with love that was mirrored in his eyes when he smiled at Grace. ‘We’ll love him with all our hearts, but I’m afraid he’s going to be an only child, querida.’ He placed the baby gently in his crib and moved towards the bed where his wife was waiting with open arms.
‘Nonsense. I want at least two more, and you know I always get my own way,’ Grace said cheerfully.
And eighteen months later she did just that when she gave birth to twin girls, Rosa and Susannah. The castillo rang with the sound of children’s laughter, and el Leon de Herrera never walked alone again.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
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Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited, Eton House,
18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
ONE NIGHT IN MILAN © Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. 2011
The Italian’s Future Bride © Michelle Reid 2006
The Italian’s Chosen Wife © Kate Hewitt 2007
The Italian’s Captive Virgin © India Grey 2007
ONE NIGHT IN RIO © Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. 2011
The Brazilian Millionaire’s Love-Child © Anne Mather 2009
Virgin Mistress, Scandalous Love-Child © Jennie Lucas 2009
The Surgeon’s Runaway Bride © Olivia Gates 2007
ONE NIGHT IN BUENOS AIRES © Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. 2011
The Vásquez Mistress © Sarah Morgan 2008
The Buenos Aires Marriage Deal © Maggie Cox 2009
Argentinian Playboy, Unexpected Love-Child © Chantelle Shaw 2009
ONE NIGHT IN MADRID © Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. 2011
Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife © Kate Walker 2008
The Spaniard’s Defiant Virgin © Jennie Lucas 2007
The Spanish Duke’s Virgin Bride © Chantelle Shaw 2007
ISBN: 978-1-408-93635-1
009-0411
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
One Night in Milan
The Italian’s Future Bride
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
The Italian’s Chosen Wife
About the Author
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
The Italian’s Captive Virgin
About the Author
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
One Night in Rio
The Brazilian Millionaire’s Love-Child
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Virgin Mistress, Scandalous Love-Child
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
The Surgeon’s Runaway Bride
About the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
One Night In Collection Page 189
