by Lynne Graham
Holly was enchanted by the wonderful scenery that enfolded as the four-wheel drive moved deeper into the countryside. Charming low hills rolled across a landscape peacefully dotted with cypresses, serrated lines of fresh green vines and silvery olive groves. Medieval villages slumbered on hilltops while ancient bell towers soared into the cloudless blue sky. Occasionally she caught a glimpse of beautiful, weathered old farmhouses nestling among the greenery and the wild flowers and she wondered if Vito’s home resembled them.
‘There it is…the Castello Zaffari,’ Vito announced with pride as the car began to climb a steep ribbon of road. Dead ahead Holly glimpsed a building so vast it covered the whole hilltop like a village while elaborate gardens decorated the slopes below it. She froze, convinced that that could not possibly be his home because it was a palace, not a mere dwelling. A giant domed portico denoted the front entrance where the car came to a halt.
‘Is this it? Is this where you live?’ Holly asked in a small voice, wondering crazily if she could hide in the car and refuse to emerge until he admitted that the palace wasn’t really his and he had only been joking. It had to be a joke, she thought fearfully, because no ordinary woman could possibly learn to live in the midst of such medieval splendour.
Vito picked up on the edge in her voice and frowned at her. ‘Yes. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ she said hurriedly as she took Angelo to allow the nanny to climb out.
‘Don’t you like it?’
‘Of course I like it,’ Holly lied in a rush, utterly overpowered by the huge building as she accompanied Vito into a massive marble-floored hall studded with matching lines of columns. ‘But you could’ve at least hinted that you lived like royalty.’
‘I don’t,’ Vito incised in firm rebuttal. ‘I live in a historic building that has belonged to my family for centuries. I live a very average, normal life here…’
Please tell me he didn’t say that, Holly argued with herself as they rounded the gigantic centrepiece of a winding stone staircase and were faced with a long assembled row of what could only have been household staff all dressed up in uniform as though they had strayed off the set for Downton Abbey. Average? Normal? On what planet was Vito living?
Sick with the nervous unease of someone totally out of their comfort zone, Holly fixed a smile to her stiff face while Vito conducted introductions. There was a great deal of billing and cooing over Angelo and Vito’s own former nanny, Serafina, surged forward to take the baby. Apart from her, Silvestro was the head honcho in the household and little giggly Natalia, it turned out, was Holly’s English-speaking maid. With great difficulty Holly kept her face straight at the prospect of having a maid and watched while the two nannies carried Angelo off upstairs.
‘Natalia will show you to our room,’ Vito informed her at the foot of the stairs and then he paused, a frown etching between his level brows, his dark eyes semi-concealed by his ridiculous lashes as he murmured, ‘I should have asked you—do you object to sharing a room?’
The planet he was on was definitely far, far from the moon, Holly thought crazily as she raised her brows. ‘Where else would I sleep?’
‘Obviously you could have your own room,’ Vito told her valiantly.
And Holly almost burst out laughing because Vito was being his extraordinarily polite self and going against his own instincts. She could see it in the tension etched in his lean, darkly handsome face, hear it in the edge roughening his dark, deep drawl. He really, really didn’t want her to choose a separate bedroom and she wondered why on earth he had made the offer. ‘No…’ Holly reached for his clenched hand. ‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily,’ she teased.
Vito laughed and smiled almost simultaneously and all the tension vanished. Silly, silly man, she thought warmly as she followed Natalia up the stairs. Why had he even given her a choice? Separate bedrooms? Was that how husband and wife normally lived in such a gigantic house? How his parents and grandparents had lived? Well, from here on in Vito was going to have to learn how a normal, average couple lived, and having shared a bed with him once had only made her all the keener to repeat the experience, she acknowledged, her colour rising. But there was just no way of denying that the most unbearable hunger clenched her deep down inside when she looked at Vito.
Months had passed since that night in the cottage but she had learned a lot about herself after that first educational experience. Other men hadn’t tempted her the way Vito had and she had always assumed that that’d meant she wasn’t a very sensual person. Vito, however, had unleashed her newly discovered appetite for intimacy and taught her differently. He was definitely the right man for her. She could only hope that she would prove to be the right woman for him.
Natalia opened the doors of what had to be the most drop-dead ugly bedroom Holly had ever seen. It was truly hideous. Heavy dark drapes shut out most of the light and made the vast room gloomy. A material that looked and felt like dark red leather covered the walls and every other surface from the high, elaborately moulded and domed ceiling to the furniture, which was heavily gilded in gold. Holly swallowed hard. It looked as though it hadn’t been decorated in at least a hundred years and it was very possible that the weird paper was antique like the furniture.
Well, Holly thought as her maid cast open the doors to show her around what appeared to be an entire suite of rooms for their use, she might be keen to share a bedroom with Vito but he might have to move the location of the shared bedroom to make her happy. Natalia beamed and showed her into a large room walled with closets, which she swept open to display the contents.
‘Who does all this belong to?’ Holly asked, recoiling while wondering if all the garment-bag-enclosed items of clothing had been left behind by Vito’s former fiancée, Marzia.
‘Is your gift…is new,’ the brunette stressed while showing off a still-attached label to what appeared to be a hand-embroidered ballgown of such over-the-top glamour that it took Holly’s breath away.
A gift that could only be from Vito. The gift of an entire wardrobe of clothes? Holly fingered through drawers packed with lingerie and nightwear in little decorative bags and stared at the racks of shoes and accessories Natalia was eager for her to see and appreciate. It was a mind-blowing collection and it was just way too much altogether for Holly, after the wedding, the massive palace Vito lived in and his revealing query about whether or not she was willing to share a bedroom with him. What on earth? What on earth kind of marriage was she in that he had told her so little about his life and yet bought her so much? Did he think flashing around his money made up for his failure to explain all the other stuff?
Catching a glimpse of her creased and tousled reflection in one of the many mirrors in the dressing room, Holly almost groaned. She didn’t want to get tricked out in fancy clothes, she simply wanted comfort, and as Natalia opened Holly’s single case on the now seemingly pitiful assortment of clothing that had been her lot pre-Vito, Holly bent down to scoop out her one extravagance: a shimmering maxi dress with an iridescent sheen that skimmed her every curve with a flattering fit. She was relieved to see that while the bedroom belonged to a bygone age, the en-suite bathroom, while palatial, was contemporary. Stepping into a wonderful walled rain-forest shower, she rinsed away the tired stickiness of travel and tried to let her anxieties float off down the drain with the soapy water.
A marriage was what you made of it and she had no intention of underestimating the challenge ahead. They had married for Angelo’s benefit but their son could only enjoy a happy home life if his parents established a good relationship. Holly’s childhood had been damaged by her mother’s neglect and self-indulgence, Vito’s by his father’s indifference. He should’ve warned her about the giant historic house and the extravagant new wardrobe, but she could no more shout at him for being richer and more pedigreed than she had estimated than she could shout at him for his unvarnished generosity.
Dressed, her black hair tumbling freely round her shoulders, Holl
y explored the connecting rooms Natalia had briefly walked her through earlier. A door stood ajar on the balcony that led off the sitting room and she strolled out, watching the sun go down over the stunning landscape and the manicured gardens below and slowly veil them in peach, gold and terracotta splendour. Sounds in the room she had vacated alerted her to the arrival of a trolley, and the rattle of cutlery fired her appetite and drew her back indoors.
Vito was framed by a doorway at the far end of the room, his suit abandoned in favour of jeans and a white shirt open at his strong brown throat. Her tummy was awash with butterflies as she instinctively drew in a deep breath and savoured her view of him. He stood there, so tall and dark and devastatingly handsome, watching her with the assessing eyes of a hawk.
Vito finally tore his gaze from his bride’s opulent curves, that were so wonderfully enhanced by the fine fabric of her dress, but the words he had been about to speak had vanished from his brain. Holly, he acknowledged simply, was an incredibly sexy woman. Innate sensuality threaded her every movement. It was there in her light gliding walk, the feminine sway of her hips, the swell of her breasts as she straightened her spine and angled her head back to expose her throat.
He had expected Apollo to recognise the sheer depth of Holly’s natural appeal, but he couldn’t be sorry that his friend’s distrust had blinded him because when Vito had seen some of his guests look at his bride with lustful intent, it had annoyed the hell out of him. And that new possessive, jealously protective streak about what was his disturbed Vito, who was immensely suspicious of emotional promptings. He had always chosen women who brought out the rational side of his nature but Holly incited much more primal urges.
Vito’s butler, Silvestro, moved forward to pour the wine with a flourish and light the candles on the circular table. Holly tasted the wine with an appreciative sip.
‘It’s an award-winning Brunello my grandfather laid down years ago. This is a special occasion,’ Vito pointed out as he dropped lithely down into his seat and shook out his napkin.
‘I cut my teeth on wines that tasted like vinegar.’ Holly sighed. ‘I’m not much of a drinker.’
‘Why would you be if it tasted that bad?’ Vito asked with amusement.
‘Why didn’t you warn me that you lived in a vast house your family have owned for centuries?’ Holly asked quietly.
‘It didn’t occur to me,’ Vito admitted with a frown.
‘This place was a shock…as was the new wardrobe.’
‘You were supposed to shop for clothes at the same time as you chose your wedding dress but the stylist said you weren’t interested. So I took care of it for you.’
‘Thank you, I suppose…’
As Silvestro left the room, having drawn the trolley close to enable them to serve themselves, Holly embarked on the tiny delicate parcels on her plate. They were exquisitely displayed, and the oriental flavours tasted phenomenal. The courses that followed were even better. Holly had never eaten such fabulous food before.
‘Who does the cooking here?’ she asked.
‘I have a very well-paid chef on staff. When I’m staying at one of my other properties he travels ahead of me.’
Bemused by the concept of a mobile personal chef, Holly blinked. ‘You have other properties?’
‘Here I have the apartment in Florence and a villa on the shores of Lugano in Switzerland. Those were inherited. But I also own property in the countries I visit most frequently,’ Vito admitted.
Holly was frowning. ‘What’s wrong with hotels?’
‘I don’t like them. I like quiet and privacy, particularly when I’m working,’ Vito advanced smoothly. ‘It’s my sole extravagance.’
‘When I called you a spoilt-rotten rich boy I wasn’t far off the mark,’ Holly dared.
‘Had you ever met my grandfather you would never have awarded me that label. He was a rigid disciplinarian with a punitive approach. He thought my mother was too soft with me.’ A rueful smile brought a gentler than usual curve to Vito’s wide sensual lips. ‘He was probably right.’
‘Your grandfather sounds very judgemental. I don’t think I would’ve liked him very much.’
‘He was a dinosaur but a well-intentioned one. Since he passed away two years ago, however, I have instigated many changes.’
Holly dealt him a sidewise glance and whispered conspiratorially, ‘Our bedroom is a complete horror.’
A flashing grin illuminated Vito’s lean, dark features. ‘Really?’
‘Very dark and depressing.’
‘I think I’ve only been in that room once in my life.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘You mean it wasn’t yours?’
‘No, it’s simply the main bedroom in the house and Silvestro has been trying to move me in there ever since my grandfather departed,’ Vito confided with amusement. ‘But I always resist change and I need the allure of a wife there to entice me.’
Holly compressed her lips as she sipped her wine. ‘I have no allure,’ she told him, wrinkling her snub nose in embarrassment.
Vito laughed, lounging back in his chair to study her with gleaming dark golden eyes. ‘Being unaware of it doesn’t mean you don’t have it. In fact that very lack of awareness is incredibly appealing.’
‘I should check on Angelo.’
‘No, not tonight, bella mia,’ Angelo intoned as he sprang upright to reach for her hands and raise her slowly from her seat. ‘Tonight is ours. Angelo has two nannies and an entire household devoted to his needs. After all, he is the first child in the Zaffari family for a generation, and as such more precious than diamonds to our staff.’
Her throat tightened as he looked down at her with glittering golden eyes fringed by ridiculously long lashes. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe or move. ‘Er…what are we standing here for?’
‘I want to see this horror of a bedroom,’ Vito said thickly and then he lowered his head and sealed his mouth to hers with hungry, driving urgency.
Like a flamethrower on a bale of hay his passion ignited hers with instantaneous effect. Her arms closed round him, her small hands roving up over his strong, muscular back to cling to his shoulders. His tongue slid moistly between her lips and an erotic thrill engulfed her in dizzy anticipation. Her nipples prickled into tingling tightness while damp heat surged between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, struggling to get a grip on herself but still wanting him so much it almost hurt…
CHAPTER EIGHT
HAULING HOLLY UP into his arms, Vito carried her into the bedroom and settled her on the foot of the bed to remove her shoes.
‘I didn’t appreciate how dark it was in here,’ Vito admitted as he switched on the bedside lamps. ‘Or how hideous. My grandfather liked grand and theatrical.’ He sighed.
Holly scrambled back against the headboard and studied him with starry eyes. He stood half in shadow, half in light, and the hard, sculpted planes and hollows of his lean, strong face were beautiful. She marvelled at the fate that had brought two such different people together and rejoiced in it too. Liking, respect, attraction, she listed with resolution inside her head, buttoning down the stronger feelings battling to emerge, denying them.
‘Did your parents occupy separate bedrooms?’ she asked curiously.
‘It was always the norm in this household. I didn’t want it for us.’ Vito came down on the bed beside her. ‘If you only knew how much I’ve longed for this moment. I wanted you with me in London before the wedding.’
‘But it couldn’t be done. I had responsibilities I couldn’t turn my back on.’ Holly sighed.
‘I could’ve made arrangements to free you of those duties.’
‘Not when they’re dependent on friendship, loyalty, and consideration for other people,’ Holly disagreed gently, lifting a hand to follow the course of his jutting lower lip and note the stubborn angle of his strong jawline. ‘You can’t rearrange the world only to suit you.’
‘Sì…yes, I can,’ Vito declared without shame.
&n
bsp; ‘But that’s so selfish—’
‘I will not apologise for being selfish when it comes to your needs and Angelo’s.’ Vito marvelled at her inability to appreciate that he would always place their needs over the needs of others. What was wrong with that? It was true that it took a certain amount of ruthlessness and arrogance, but he had fought hard in life for every single achievement and saw nothing wrong with an approach that maximised the good things for his family and minimised the bad. The way he saw it, if you made enough effort happiness could be balanced as smoothly as a profit-and-loss column.
With his strong white teeth he nipped playfully at the reproving fingertip rapping his chin.
Holly startled and then giggled and sighed. ‘What am I going to do with you?’
‘Anything you want… I’m up for anything.’ Vito savoured her, his dark golden eyes holding hers with explicit need for a heartbeat. He pushed her back against the pillows and then his mouth claimed hers with hungry, delicious force.
Heat unfurled in her pelvis. Her heart raced and the tension went out of her only to be replaced by a new kind of tension that shimmied through her bloodstream like an aphrodisiac and made her heart race. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps between kisses, each leading into the next until he rolled back and, having established that there was no helpful zip, he gathered the hem of her dress in his hands and tugged it up over her body and over her head to pitch it aside.
‘That’s better,’ he growled, pausing to admire the picture she made in her pretty bridal lace lingerie.
‘Except you’re still wearing far too many clothes,’ Holly objected, embarking on his shirt buttons.
Vito yanked off his shirt without ceremony, kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, only to halt there, his long, lean frame trembling while Holly’s hands roamed over the hills and valleys of his hard, muscular abdomen. Her reverent fingers took a detour to follow the furrow of dark hair vanishing below the waistband of his jeans.
