by Dani Collins
Smoothing her hands over her dress, she concentrated on arranging it just so, the cream silk fabric suddenly completely absorbing, anything to distract herself from what she was about to do. Chosen from a selection that had mysteriously appeared the day before for her perusal, the style was a simple sleeveless shift, no frills or flounces but beautifully cut so that it fitted her perfectly. All that was left was to paste on what she hoped passed for a semblance of a smile. At least she had stopped feeling sick.
The ceremony was over in a matter of minutes. Stepping out into the bright sunshine, Emma no longer bore the name Quinn, the surname of a man she had never known, but Ravenino, the surname of a man she barely knew. There was an irony there, if Emma had the capacity to dwell on it. Which she didn’t, because she was way too busy trying to control the jumping nerves, the surge of adrenaline threatening to take her legs from under her.
For a moment they stood silently facing each other, caught in the enormity of what they had just done. Shading her eyes, Emma tipped back her head to look at the man who was now her husband. Standing tall and proud, immaculately dressed in a dark suit and a grey tie, he was every woman’s fantasy of the perfect groom. Hot, hard male perfection. But with his eyes hidden behind designer sunglasses, she wasn’t able to read his expression, only his unnatural stillness betraying any sense of unease.
She realised she had no idea what he was thinking, what life held in store for her and her unborn child. Twisting the new gold ring on her finger, she found herself wondering, yet again, just how she was going to cope with a life so changed, with a man she knew so little of yet who still managed to affect her so deeply.
‘I should get back to the office.’ Leo’s attention was drawn to his car, where a couple of teenaged boys were peering inside enviously. ‘Do you have any plans for the afternoon?’
‘No, not really.’ Emma swallowed. What plans would she have, other than trying to figure out how she was going to live the rest of her life?
‘Well, you have a car at your disposal.’ Leo indicated the sleek black limo that Emma now saw had pulled up alongside the kerb. ‘Luigi will take you anywhere you want to go.’
‘And has he been instructed to make sure I don’t escape, like before?’ She raised her chin.
‘No.’ His lethal focus was back on her, steel in his voice. Emma blinked, her startled face reflected in the lenses of his glasses. ‘We are married now, legally bound, the documents all signed. I no longer need to keep track of you. Should there be any transgressions, it would be a matter for the lawyers.’
Well, that made her feel so much better. ‘There won’t be any transgressions,’ Emma huffed quickly. ‘Not on my part at least.’
She hoped she sounded authoritative but, truth be told, she had no idea what she’d signed. When the lawyer had arrived to witness their signatures on the pre-nup, she had almost snatched the pen out of his hand in her hurry to sign her name at the bottom of the pages. Done to show Leo that she had zero interest in his billions, her hurry had also stopped her from thinking too deeply about what she was doing. Which had been pretty much the only way to stop her hand from shaking.
‘Neither will there be any transgressions on my part.’ Raising his sunglasses, Leo pushed them up onto his head, ruffling his hair in a way that made Emma want to reach out, delve her fingers through the silky dark waves, feel them brush against the sensitive skin of her palms.
‘Well, that’s good.’ She lowered her eyes to try and escape the persistent, unwanted tug of desire. ‘I’m glad we’ve got that sorted.’
‘Sì.’ There was a second’s silence before Emma felt the stroke of a finger against her cheek, so light as to almost not be there but enough to draw her gaze upwards, to set her senses on fire.
‘I hope you don’t find the prospect of being married to me too alarming, Emma.’ His finger traced down to her chin, his eyes solemn, questioning.
‘No.’ With the trail of his touch doing terrible things to her insides she hotly denied everything she felt. ‘Why would I?’
‘Why indeed?’ The words were softly spoken, his eyes darkening.
Emma stayed very still. Alarm was only one of many emotions Leo could stir so easily in her. The mere touch of his finger was triggering the slow stealth of pleasure. A part of her wanted Leo to lean in and kiss her so badly her whole body ached for it. Another part wanted to bury herself in a deep black hole to protect her from all the ways he could make her feel. Did he know the effect he had on her? It was impossible to tell.
She pulled in a breath to calm her nerves. Whatever else, she had to try and keep her wayward feelings to herself. To let Leo see how he affected her, deep down in that intensely private place, would only give him more power. Strengthen a hold on her that was already far too tight.
‘I’m fine.’ She moved a step away to release herself from the torture of his touch. Her voice sounded hollow, even to her own ears. ‘You don’t need to worry about me.’
‘Bene.’ Replacing his sunglasses, Leo returned to the brisk businesslike persona that Emma felt far more comfortable with. ‘A proposito, I have booked a table for tonight. I thought we should do something to mark the occasion of our marriage. I trust you are okay with that?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Emma nodded with far more enthusiasm than she felt. ‘That would be nice.’
Nice? She screwed up her face. It was hardly a ringing endorsement and judging by the way Leo’s mouth had tightened, he’d noticed it too. But, then, he noticed everything.
‘In the meantime, I suggest you go shopping for something to wear. Whatever you want. Luigi will drive you.’
Emma hesitated. Shopping wasn’t really her thing, but on the other hand she had brought so few clothes with her she badly needed a new wardrobe. Maybe if she bought a few practical outfits, and something posher for occasions like this dinner, which she was already dreading, that would be a sensible idea. Of course, it wouldn’t be long before she’d be needing maternity clothes, but Emma decided she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. There was only so much upheaval a girl could take at one time.
‘Thank you.’ She politely accepted Leo’s offer. ‘I’ll do that.’
‘Prego.’ Stepping closer, Leo brushed her cheek with his lips, just once, just enough to send her senses reeling again. ‘I will see you later.’
* * *
Emma stared in amazement at the items that had been delivered to the villa. Had she really bought all this? Spread out in her dressing room, the sleek carrier bags bearing famous names that Emma had only read about in magazines stared defiantly back at her. Boxes tied with satin ribbons invited her to step closer for a better look.
No, this was ridiculous. She had gone mad. She would send them back. But as she lifted the first dress from its scented tissue paper, holding it against her body, she was seduced all over again. The cobalt blue fabric was so beautiful, the cut of the dress so clever, holding her in in all the right places. Buying the matching shoes and bag had seemed eminently sensible at the time. As had purchasing those perfectly fitting jeans in four different colours, not to mention the silk shirts, the soft leather jacket, the floaty summer skirt. And the lingerie... Slowly lifting the lid on one of the pale pink boxes, Emma broke the seal on the black tissue paper, her heart beating faster as she withdrew the bra and matching panties. They were so stunning they were like a work of art. She ran her fingers over the sheer fabric, imagining wearing them, imagining Leo looking at her wearing them... Enough! Hastily replacing them in the box, she slammed the lid back down. Whatever was she thinking?
But the shopping trip had been Leo’s idea, not hers. Maybe she needed to consider what he had been thinking. Was he trying to turn her into one of the women he normally dated? Sophisticated, refined. It was a depressing thought. Because Emma was neither of those things and never would be. She now bore the name Ravenino and lived in a stunning home f
it for a princess. She would wear these beautiful clothes if that was what her husband wanted. But inside she was still Emma Quinn—still trying to find her place in the world.
Walking over to the window, Emma gazed out at the lush rolling green parkland. All her life she had felt like the outsider, even within her own family. Much as she loved her younger siblings, they were a very different breed. A tightly knit pack, they appeared unfazed by the fact they had different fathers, embracing the chaos of their lifestyle with a carefree enthusiasm solemn Emma had never felt, not even when she was a child. They were also adored by their mother. Something Emma had never been.
Leaving home, she had concentrated all her efforts on her journalism career, securing the job on the Paladin her proudest achievement, even if it had been short-lived. But if she was being totally honest, she had never really fitted in there either. Certainly not with the old-timers and their extended lunches and waistlines to match, or even the bright young things, discussing their social lives at high volume, meeting for drinks after work.
Now she had a new life to get her head around, a new role as wife and mother. Truth be told, she felt woefully ill-equipped for either, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it. With a surge of optimism Emma squinted against the evening horizon. Fancy clothes might not turn her into a Hollywood star, but she was strong and she was brave. And she had integrity. Her commitment to Leo might have been squeezed out of her, more coercion than seduction, but now she was married she was determined to make the best of it.
Not that it had got off to a very promising start... Since being at Villa Magenta, Leo had treated her with a polite but cool reserve. All traces of the man who had made her blush that first evening about the way their marriage might play out banished behind a granite façade. That was when she actually saw him at all. Spending his days in his office in Milan, when he finally returned to the villa their exchanges were brief, their evening meals taken separately.
And as for their bedrooms... Villa Magenta was huge and Emma’s quarters were situated way across the other side of the building from Leo’s. Almost like it had been done deliberately. If Emma had nurtured any foolish hope that this week she and Leo would start to get to know one another, maybe settle her nerves and silence some of the nagging doubts, it had been severely dashed. Leo clearly had no interest in any such thing. Standing in front of the officiant that morning, the tall, dark Italian beside her had been as much a stranger as ever. The enormity of what she was about to do more bewildering than ever.
But the deed was done. They were now married, legally man and wife, and Emma was going to hang on to her optimism and make this work. After all, tonight was their wedding night and, despite everything, she couldn’t hold back a feral sort of thrill. Despite the aching uncertainty, her imagination kept leaping ahead, her memory rushing to recall the one night they had shared, where every erotic detail was meticulously stored.
Seeing Leo again, being in his presence, had brought it all vividly back to life. The sound of his voice, the way he shrugged his shoulders, narrowed his eyes, used his hands to express himself all setting her pulse racing, her muscles clenching in memory. So far she had done her very best to hide her reaction from him. Maybe tonight she could stop pretending.
Heading towards the bathroom, Emma stripped off her clothes and stepped under the shower, the pounding hot water starting to ease the tension gripping her neck and shoulders. Reaching for the shower gel, she began to rhythmically soap her body, closing her eyes to inhale the delicious scent. Slowly, insidiously, a shudder of desire started to creep over her, stealthily making its way to her core. Snapping open her eyes, she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a white towel.
She didn’t know what this evening would bring. She had no idea what was going on inside her husband’s closed, calculating mind. But maybe she would wear that gorgeous underwear after all. Twisting a towel around her hair, she rubbed at the condensation on the mirror to find her wide-eyed reflection. Surely there could be no harm in that?
* * *
Leo watched through narrowed eyes as his wife made her way towards him. His wife. Words he had never thought he would use since leaving Ravenino. A situation he had never imagined finding himself in. His hands, held in his lap, flexed.
She looked different. Stunning, in fact. But the smile on her face was faint as she followed the maître d’, the admiring glances of the male diners going unnoticed. Not by Leo, though. With a surge of possessiveness he rose, greeting her firmly with an outstretched arm, kissing her on both cheeks. She pulled away quickly.
‘Buonasera.’ He collected himself, drawing back her chair for her, signalling to the maître d’ with a curt nod that his job was done.
‘Buonasera.’ She sat down. ‘Not late, am I?’
She wasn’t late. Unlike some of his previous dates, who seemed to think it added to their allure to arrive ‘fashionably late’, when all it did was irritate the hell out of him. From their brief acquaintance, he was relieved to find there were several things he liked about Emma. She had an inner strength that he respected. No tantrums, no dramas. A level of detachment in the way she held her head high, tipped her chin that might even be called a challenge. Which was an interesting prospect. It had to be said: despite the turbulence of the last few days, she had conducted herself with the utmost decorum.
But right now decorum was the last thing on his mind—far from it. He allowed himself another glance as she opened her napkin, placing it on her lap, his eyes drawn to the creamy skin of her upper chest, the finely shaped collar bones. Unadorned. There was beauty enough as it was, but Leo found himself wondering what necklace he might buy for her, already imagining sweeping her hair to one side to fasten the clasp, lowering his head to plant a kiss on her skin.
This past week had been a lesson in self-control for him. A test to see how he felt about the startling new future he had embarked upon, to give himself time to figure out ways he was going to deal with it. And first on the list had been no sex. Keeping his distance would give him the chance to work things through in his head. Being seduced by her wide eyes and soft curves would not.
But tonight he found his resolve being severely tested.
In a gesture more hesitant than flirtatious, Emma touched her hair, which fell loose over her shoulders, meeting his gaze from beneath that fringe. Free from make-up, apart from a slash of red on her lips, she looked incredibly sexy.
Leo took a breath, reaching for his glass of water. No, he didn’t want decorum tonight. He wanted wild, unfettered, hot, passionate, dirty sex. And he wanted it with the woman chewing her lip in front of him now. Whoa. He hurriedly took a sip of water then braced himself to face her again, feigning nonchalance. ‘Sei molto carina, you look lovely, by the way.’
‘Thank you.’ She gave an embarrassed laugh, a blush creeping up her neck, staining her cheeks until she had to reach for the menu to fan herself. ‘Sorry.’ She offered a rueful smile. ‘It’s the hormones, I expect.’
Was it? Or did she just not know how to accept a compliment? Did she really not realise how beautiful she was?
‘The same hormones that made you so ill this morning?’ Leo felt for safer ground.
Emma shot him a look as she laid down the menu. ‘You know about that?’
‘Yes.’ He returned her stare. ‘Maria told me you only wanted dry crackers for breakfast.’
‘Is this how it’s going to be?’ Her shoulders stiffened. ‘Are all my meals going to be policed by you?’
‘I need to be aware if there are any problems.’
‘It’s not a problem, Leo, at least not for you. Morning sickness is perfectly normal at this stage of the pregnancy.’
Leo shrugged. He already knew that. In the short time since he had found out he was to be a father he had made it his business to learn everything he could about the various stages of pregnancy. Not that he had told Emma
that.
‘Are you hungry now?’
‘Yes.’ She seemed surprised at herself. ‘I am.’
‘Bene. Do you want me to translate the menu for you?’
‘Yes, please.’ Her shoulders dropped a little at last. ‘In fact...’ she peered at him from around the menu ‘...perhaps you should choose for me, as you know this restaurant, I mean.’
‘Certo.’ Leo suppressed a small smile at her solemn expression. ‘As long as I’m not going to be accused of policing what you eat?’
‘You have my permission.’ She matched his teasing tone. ‘This time.’
Emma ate her meal enthusiastically, which Leo noted with pleasure. She denied wanting a dessert, but he ordered her one anyway, watching with satisfaction as she spooned creamy gelato into her mouth, polished off the last biscotti.
They kept the conversation light, polite, both of them feeling their way, being careful not to trample on the new shoots of their relationship. But Emma had the sort of face that spelled out her emotions even when she didn’t want it to, and more than once Leo caught a glimpse of wariness behind the composed façade.
‘How’s your water?’ He posed the question lightly.
Emma laughed. ‘Good. I can definitely taste the slopes of Mount Fuji.’
She had stuck to water all evening, her face a picture when the sommelier had presented her with a menu to choose from. Picking one at random, she had waited until his back was turned before self-consciously informing Leo that the water she normally drank came out of a tap.
He sat back in his chair, waiting for Emma to pick up the conversation again, watching her from beneath weighted eyelids. The hum in his blood had not left him all evening, the dark need to take his wife to his bed pressing down on him more forcefully than ever. But he would not give in to it. Yet.
He straightened his spine, resting his elbows on the table. He knew so little of the woman before him with the flushed cheeks and bright eyes. In his hurry to take control of the present he had scarcely given a thought to her past, her background. Now he found he wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything.
