Matteo had given her the option of living in London, Rome or Umbria—and she’d opted for the sprawling Umbrian estate which had once belonged to his mother’s family. She figured it was healthier for Santino to grow up in the glorious Italian countryside, especially now that they had acquired a beautiful black cat named Luca who, against all odds, had become a devoted companion to Charlie the terrier.
But it was more than that. This estate was Matteo’s link with his roots. It represented continuity and stability—something which had been lacking in both their lives until now. One day Santino might listen to the call of his forebears and decide he didn’t want to be a businessman, like his daddy. He might want to grow up and farm the fertile acres of this beautiful place. A place which might so nearly have disappeared from the family.
Because Keira had discovered that the very first letter Matteo had sent during their separation contained estate agent details marketing the property. He’d put it up for sale to demonstrate that the house meant nothing, if he didn’t have her. They had quickly aborted the prospective sale, despite the frantic bidding war which had been taking place at the time. And had decided to make the estate their permanent home.
‘What are you smiling at?’ questioned Matteo softly as he walked over to the Christmas tree and pulled her to her feet.
Her contented expression didn’t change. ‘Do I need a reason?’ She sighed. ‘I’m just so happy, Matteo. Happier than I ever thought possible.’
‘Well, isn’t that a coincidence? Because I feel exactly the same way,’ he said, his fingers beginning to massage her shoulders, their practised caress never failing to arouse her. ‘Have I told you lately that I love you, Mrs Valenti?’
She pretended to frown. ‘I think you might have mentioned it before you went out to build Santino’s snowman. And just for the record, I love you, too. So very much.’
He bent his head and kissed her, deeply and passionately and it was some time before she broke off to graze her lips against the dark stubble of his angled jaw.
‘Did you speak to your father?’ she said.
‘I did. And he’s looking forward to Christmas lunch tomorrow. He says he’ll be here soon after eleven and is bringing his new girlfriend.’ His eyes gleamed down at her. ‘And that we should prepare ourselves for what he calls a significant age gap.’
Keira giggled as she rested her head on Matteo’s shoulder. Massimo had divorced Luciana in the spring and although Keira had tried to feel sad about it, she just couldn’t. Not only had the older woman been a troublemaker—it transpired that she’d been unfaithful to her husband as well. And one night, soon after the decree nisi had come through and Matteo had been away on business, Keira and her father-in-law had dined together in Rome. He’d told her it wasn’t a desire to manipulate which had made him threaten to disinherit Matteo if he didn’t produce an heir—but concern that his son was becoming emotionally remote and would end up a rich and lonely old man.
‘And then you stepped in and saved him and made him happy. Truly happy—and I cannot thank you enough for that, Keira,’ he had whispered, his voice cracking a little. ‘I know I wasn’t a good father when he was growing up.’ He had fallen silent for a moment and his eyes had grown reflective. ‘I missed his mother so much and he...well, he looked so much like her, that sometimes it was painful to be around him.’
‘Have you told him that, Massimo?’ she had said quietly, pressing her hand over his across the table. ‘Because I think you should.’
And he had. Keira closed her eyes, remembering the long overdue heart-to-heart between father and son, and the growing closeness of their relationship which had resulted.
Her mind flicked back to the present as Matteo began to caress her bottom, murmuring his appreciation that these days she almost always wore a dress. She liked wearing dresses, although she could still resurrect her inner tomboy when needed—and she suspected she was going to need to do that a lot if Santino played as much football as Matteo intended he should. ‘Would you like part of your Christmas present tonight?’ she whispered, snuggling up to him.
He pulled away to look at her and raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that an offer I shouldn’t refuse?’
‘Put it this way—I’m wearing it underneath this dress and I need you to unwrap it for me. Matteo!’ She giggled as he began to lead her towards the bedroom. ‘I didn’t mean now—I meant later.’
‘Too bad,’ he murmured, not lessening his pace by a fraction. ‘Because I have something for you which can’t wait.’
Actually, that wasn’t quite true—he had two things for her. The first was sitting in the garage wrapped in a giant red bow ready to be untied on Christmas morning. A neglected Ferrari 1948 Spider sports car which he’d tracked down with great difficulty and at considerable expense, because she’d once told him it was her dream to restore beautiful vintage cars—and Matteo was rather partial to making his wife’s dreams come true.
The second gift was rather different and he didn’t give it to her until after he’d dealt with her outrageous panty thong with its matching boned bodice, which he damaged beyond repair in his eagerness to unhook it. And once he had her naked, he was distracted for quite some time...
His throat thickened with unexpected emotion as he pulled the small box from his discarded trousers and flipped open the lid to reveal a flawless white solitaire which sparkled like a giant star against dark velvet.
‘What’s this?’ she questioned breathlessly, from among the sheets which were rumpled around her.
He lifted her left hand and slid the solitaire in place above her wedding band. ‘I never gave you an engagement ring, did I? And I didn’t give you a dream wedding either. A civil ceremony in a town hall was never something we were going to enjoy telling our grandchildren about.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. ‘So I wondered if you’d like to renew our vows in my favourite church in Rome. You could wear a big white dress and do it properly this time, and we could throw a party afterwards. Or not—whichever you prefer. What I’m asking is, would you like to marry me again, Keira Valenti?’
Keira opened her mouth to say that she didn’t care about pomp or ceremony, but that wasn’t quite true. And weren’t she and Matteo all about the truth, these days? She thought about something else, too, something which had been niggling away at her for a while now. Because weddings could bring people together and heal old wounds, couldn’t they? Motherhood had changed her. Softened her. She realised now that her aunt might have been strict when she was growing up, but she’d given an orphaned little girl the home she’d badly needed and had stopped her from being taken into care. And didn’t she owe her aunt Ida a great deal for that? Wasn’t it time to invite her and Shelley to Italy, to share in her good fortune and happiness and to introduce Santino to some of her roots?
She wound her arms around Matteo’s neck and looked into his beautiful black eyes, her heart turning over with emotion. ‘Yes, Matteo,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’ll be proud to marry you. To stand before our family and friends and say the thing I’ll never tire of saying, which is that I love you—and I’ll love you for the rest of my life.’
* * * * *
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
Reluctant Sheikh Salim Al-Noury would rather abdicate than taint the realm with his dark secrets.
But could one exquisitely beautiful diplomat convince him otherwise?…
Christmas means heartbreak to Charlotte, and this overseas assignment offers the perfect getaway. But Salim proves to be her most challenging client yet, and his rugged masculinity awakens untouched Charlotte to unimaginable pleasures!
Read on for a sneak preview of Abby Green’s book
A CHRISTMAS BRIDE FOR THE KING
Rulers of the Desert
She looked Salim straight in the eye. ‘Life is so easy for you, isn’t it? No wonder you don’t want to rule—it would put a serious cramp in your lifestyle and a dent in your empire. Have you ever had to think of anyone bu
t yourself, Salim? Have you ever had to consider the consequences of your actions? People like you make me—’
‘Enough.’ Salim punctuated the harshly spoken word by taking her arms in his hands. He said it again. ‘Enough, Charlotte. You’ve made your point.’
She couldn’t breathe after the way he’d just said her name. Roughly. His hands were huge on her arms, and firm but not painful. She knew she should say Let me go but somehow the words wouldn’t form in her mouth.
Salim’s eyes were blazing down into hers and for a second she had the impression that she’d somehow…hurt him. But in the next instant any coherent thought fled, because he slammed his mouth down onto hers and all she was aware of was shocking heat, strength, and a surge of need such as she’d never experienced before.
Salim couldn’t recall when he’d felt angrier—people had thrown all sorts of insults at him for years. Women who’d expected more than he’d been prepared to give. Business adversaries he’d bested. His brother. His parents. But for some reason this buttoned-up slender woman with her cool judgmental attitude was getting to him like no one else ever had.
The urge to kiss her had been born out of that anger and a need to stop her words, but also because he’d felt a hot throb of desire that had eluded him for so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
Her mouth was soft and pliant under his, but on some dim level not clouded red with lust and anger he knew it was shock—and, sure enough, after a couple of seconds he felt her tense and her mouth tighten against his.
He knew he should draw back. dpg
If he was another man he might try to convince himself he’d only intended the kiss to be a display of power, but Salim had never drawn back from admitting his full failings. And he couldn’t pull back—not if a thousand horses were tied to his body. Because he wanted her.
Don’t miss
A CHRISTMAS BRIDE FOR THE KING
By Abby Green
Available December 2017
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Copyright ©2017 Abby Green
ISBN: 978-1-474-05304-4
THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS SECRET
© 2017 Sharon Kendrick
Published in Great Britain 2017
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk
The Italian's Christmas Secret Page 15
