Harlequin Presents January 2015 - Box Set 2 of 2: The Secret His Mistress CarriedTo Sin with the TycoonInherited by Her EnemyThe Last Heir of Monterrato

by Lynne Graham

  Stepping forward, he lowered his head to the level of her breasts, trailing light kisses over the softness of the flesh above her bra before homing in on the channel of cleavage, plundering it with his tongue.

  Lottie gripped at his hair, pulling him closer, the touch of his lips on her breasts sending waves of exquisite pleasure through her body. She wanted more. Now.

  Unfastening her bra, Rafe let it fall to the ground between them as he cupped her breasts, first one and then the other, pushing them upwards so he could take her nipples in his mouth, his hot breath shrinking them to shrivelled peaks of longing even before his lips had circled them, his teeth had grazed their hardness.

  He let his tongue trail down her chest, feeling her stomach muscles clenching violently as he passed her tummy button and reached the top of her panties. Moving a hand to either side of her hips, he yanked them down with a single movement and cast them to one side. Then, putting his hands back on her hips, he shifted sideways until he was in the perfect position to slide his tongue inside her.

  She was so wet. Her body was such a giveaway it was almost embarrassing. If she had wanted to play it cool, pretend in any way that she could take him or leave him, she’d have had no chance. Rafael only had to touch her, initiate the very first moment of lovemaking, and her body started screaming at him to take her. Now she was standing there so turned on she was literally trembling, arching her body to increase the pressure of his tongue against her, her head thrown back with indecent abandon, her fingers buried and tugging at his hair as his tongue increased in pressure, sending spasms of yearning pleasure shooting through her.

  As the first shudders of orgasm started to roll through her she felt him stop, come up to a standing position, rip off his boxer shorts and press the steel rod of his erection hard against her stomach.

  ‘No, cara...’ Rafael’s voice was a deep sexy whisper. ‘Not yet.’

  Scooping her off her feet, he crossed the few steps to the sofa, laying her down, ready to cover her body with his own. But, sliding across, Lottie made room for him beside her, before quickly wriggling on top of him. She wanted to do it her way this time. And as she looked down into his eyes she could see that he had no intention of stopping her.

  Pure, unadulterated desire flashed between them. An unstoppable force.

  Spreading her legs, she reached for his throbbing shaft, holding it against the tight, warm wetness of her need. With a low moan she felt Rafael shift beneath her and the tip of his penis enter her. She shivered erotically. She needed him inside her now—the whole of him, not just the swell of the tip but his entire length, thrust deep, deep inside her.

  And that was what happened. With a gasp of pleasure she felt him plunge into her, her muscles clenching round him, intense pleasure shooting though her. Gripping on to her hips, his strong hands held her steady for a second, but she was desperate to feel him even more deeply and, leaning back, she ground her hips into his and started to move.

  Matching her bucking thrusts with his own, he increased the pace all the time, along with the total ecstasy, until she was totally lost in it, only dimly aware of Rafael’s hoarsely whispered words.

  ‘Not yet, cara, keep it going...you can do this...a bit more, a bit more, a bit...’

  Finally the words stopped as she fell down on top of him and felt the violent orgasm rack through his body, taking her with it in an amazing, overwhelming crescendo.

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHEN LOTTIE WOKE the next morning she was in Rafael’s bed with Rafael beside her, propped on one elbow, looking down at her with those beautiful brown eyes.

  ‘Buongiorno.’

  ‘Good morning.’ She snuggled towards him, tipping her profile up, the little violet earring digging into the skin behind her ear.

  Sweeping a twisted strand of fair hair away from her eyes, Rafael bent to place a light, almost polite kiss on her lips. ‘Did you sleep well’?

  ‘Mmm...very well, thank you.’

  Raising her arms, she pulled him back down under the covers, curling her naked body against his. Spending the night in the same bed as him had felt so right. Especially after what they had done together last night.

  ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ Despite the innocent question she could feel the temptation in him.

  ‘Pregnant.’ The word was muffled against the warm skin of his neck. She felt him nudge against her, trying to move her position so that he could see her face, but she resisted, smiling to herself in her dark, sensuous, happy place.

  ‘Really?’ He adjusted his position so that his chin was now resting on the top of her head. ‘Do you actually feel any different?’

  Different? The word was too bland to describe the total change of Lottie’s state of mind. After the tension of being imprisoned in the villa with Rafael, the hurt and anger of the past few days, the terrible gripping anxiety of the pregnancy test, she now felt free, relaxed, euphoric—as if suddenly everything was going to be all right. The massive weight she had been carrying around, even if she had largely refused to acknowledge it, had been lifted, and now she could float with happiness. And judging by the feel of Rafael beside her now, the completely different mood they shared this morning, it was exactly the same for him

  ‘No, not different in that way.’ She tipped her head up to answer his question. ‘I meant pregnant as in that was my first thought when I woke up.’ She smiled at him. ‘The realisation that it really is true.’

  Rafael stared down at her, his deep brown eyes glowing softly. ‘I know. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Sorprendente. But we do have nine months to get used to the idea.’

  ‘Yes.’ Lottie returned his gaze, her own eyes dancing indigo blue. ‘Aren’t we lucky?’

  ‘Yes. We are.’ His hand slid under the covers and found her flat tummy, running over it in a gentle smoothing motion. She knew he was thinking about the baby, but her thoughts were turning in a very different direction.

  ‘I guess we should get up.’

  ‘You’re right.’

  His hand slid lower, and lower still, until it found the place she’d so much hoped it would. Maybe he wasn’t thinking about the baby after all.

  ‘Do we really have to go back to the palazzo?’ She arched her back, brushing her breasts against him. ‘Can’t we just stay here for ever?’

  ‘Nice try.’ He reciprocated by moving his finger lightly against her. ‘But I have a stack of business to attend to. Not to mention a charity dinner to oversee.’ His voice was becoming increasingly guttural.

  ‘Hmm, we’d better get going, then.’ Taking her own hand down under the cover now, she watched as his eyes widened.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more, Contessa Revaldi.’

  Holding her shoulders, Rafael slid underneath her, transferring his hands to her hips so that he positioned her perfectly on top of him.

  ‘But first there is a little business here that I need to attend to.’

  ‘I see what you mean.’ Lottie squirmed on top of him. ‘And not all that little...’

  * * *

  The helicopter ride back to Palazzo Monterrato seemed to take no time at all—which was just as well, given that their morning in bed had somehow turned to afternoon and dusk was already falling when Rafael expertly landed the noisy machine on the helipad.

  Lottie watched as he flicked off the controls, removing his headset and seatbelt, then turned to wait for her to do the same. It was stupid, but she was reluctant to get out. She would have liked their journey to go on for ever, to be cocooned in the glass bubble of happiness that she’d shared with her handsome pilot. But end it had, and as they walked up the long driveway towa
rds the palazzo Rafael cleared his throat, obviously building up to saying something.

  ‘So, about this charity dinner...’ He stared straight ahead as he strode beside her. ‘Obviously I want everything to go perfectly.’

  ‘Charity dinner?’ Lottie turned to look at him. ‘What charity dinner?’

  ‘The one I told you about earlier.’

  Lottie frowned, trying to recall. ‘I don’t remember. When is it?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow? Here at the palazzo?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She waited, but no more information was forthcoming, the only sound coming from the gravel that crunched beneath their feet.

  ‘So what are you saying? That you want me to make myself scarce?’

  ‘Why would I want you to do that?’ He glanced at her quickly before fixing his gaze straight ahead again.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Suddenly unsure of herself, Lottie faltered.

  ‘What I would like is for you to play the role of hostess.’

  ‘Oh.’ She hated these things, and the unfriendly way he was suggesting it didn’t make it any more appealing. ‘Are you sure? Won’t people think it a bit odd—I don’t know—get the wrong impression about us.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn about what people think.’ Rafael’s tone went from cold to harsh. ‘And I said play the role, Lottie. It’s not as if I am expecting you to actually believe in it. I merely feel it would be fitting to have you by my side for the evening.’ He came to an abrupt halt outside the villa. ‘Especially in view of the charity concerned.’

  ‘So what is this charity?’ Lottie stared up at him, her breath short as she matched his sudden hostility.

  ‘The Seraphina Foundation.’

  ‘The Seraphina Foundation?’ Lottie’s eyes widened, and her heart contracted with the pain of hearing their daughter’s name. ‘I didn’t even know there was such a thing.’

  ‘Well, you’ve hardly been here to know, have you?’ He shot her a withering look. ‘It has actually raised a great deal of money for intensive neonatal care.’

  ‘That’s good...’

  But it didn’t make her feel good. The more she thought about it the more hurt and excluded and resentful she felt that this charity bearing her daughter’s name existed and yet she had known nothing about it. It was as if Seraphina had been taken from her, stolen away by Rafael and his team of accountants.

  She brushed past Rafael and started up the steps to the palazzo. She was being ridiculous—she knew that. How could she be resentful about something that was saving the lives of tiny premature babies? Giving them the chance of life that Seraphina had never had? How could she be so unutterably selfish?

  Once inside, Rafael closed the door behind them. ‘I imagine you must be tired after the journey.’

  It was a statement—something not to be argued with—and certainly no attempt to appease the swing of her mood. His tone of voice made it quite clear that he had no intention of pandering to her obvious strop.

  ‘I have work to do now but I’ll let the kitchens know we will need something to eat. Where would you like yours?’

  * * *

  What was it about this place? Palazzo Monterrato? It seemed to Lottie that it refused to let her be happy, that something in the very bricks of the building made it sit up a bit straighter whenever she was around. Like the bored bully in the playground it stubbed out its fag, pushed itself off the wall and decided there was some sport to be had. And Lottie was its favourite target.

  It had been raining when she’d woken that morning, splattering against the shuttered windows. And she had been back in ‘her’ half of their enormous bedroom, alone again in the bed. Only this time she’d felt more alone than ever.

  Rafael had not emerged from his office for the rest of the night after their conversation, abandoning her with nothing but a cold supper and a sub-zero mood. She had tried not to be upset—had run herself a bath, taken her book to bed and propped herself up against the pillows, still thinking that he might tap on the door, creep into the room and slide his warm body in next to hers. But she had been deluding herself—as the grey light of this morning pointed out so heartlessly. The bed beside her was still empty, her book was on the floor, where it had slipped from her grasp, and she had nothing but a crick in her neck to show for her misplaced optimism.

  And today she had this god-awful dinner to get through.

  Pulling on her jeans, she stomped down the two flights of stairs to the kitchens with the idea of making herself a cup of tea. But the place was a hive of activity, the staff in the throes of preparations for this evening, and she was politely told that breakfast would be brought to her, wherever she would like it served.

  An hour later her mood had still not improved. Bored with its company, she decided to find someone to share it with and, rapping on the door to Rafael’s office, she strode in without waiting for a reply.

  ‘Sì, verremo più tardi.’ He looked up from his phone conversation, not best pleased at her interruption, judging by the dark scowl on his face. ‘Sì—ciao.’ Ending the call, he put down the phone and fixed her with a hooded stare. ‘Lottie. Can I help you?’

  ‘Yes, you can, actually.’ She wanted to say that he could help her by telling her why he hadn’t come to her bed, why she had had to sleep alone again. But there was no way she would give him that satisfaction. No way she would tell him how much she longed to feel his arms around her every single night. Instead she turned to a safer grudge.

  ‘You can tell me what you mean by starting a foundation in Seraphina’s name without even telling me.’

  Rafael sighed heavily. ‘Not this again. I really had no idea that I needed your permission.’

  ‘Well, you did—well, not my permission, but you could have asked...at least told me what you were doing.’

  ‘And would that have made any difference?’

  ‘Yes—yes, it would. If I had known about it I would have felt a part of it. Maybe I could have done some fundraising of my own, in England.’

  This produced a derisive snort. ‘Do you happen to know many wealthy benefactors?’

  Lottie glared at him furiously. ‘I do, as a matter of fact. The art world is full of people with more money than they know what to do with. I’m sure I would have been able to get some substantial donations—that’s if you had had the courtesy to tell me about it.’

  ‘And what would you have had to do to get these substantial donations, I wonder?’

  His sneering insinuation made the blood pop in her ears. ‘Certainly not what you’re suggesting. I have no idea why you think the only way I can get on in the world is by sleeping with wealthy men.’

  ‘Because I am a man, Lottie, and I know how their minds work.’

  ‘Well, you don’t know how mine works.’

  ‘That, I’ll grant you, is true.’ Pressing his fingers to his temples, Rafael leant back in his chair, the bitter expression on his face clearly showing that he wasn’t agreeing with her—he was simply acknowledging the disaster of their marriage.

  Sitting upright again, he steepled his fingers, looking at her over the top of them. ‘If you are so keen to contribute to the Seraphina Foundation I suggest you make a start by being the perfect hostess tonight. I’m sure you can be charming enough when it’s for a good cause. People have paid a lot of money for this event, and there is plenty more where that came from. It will be our job to persuade them to part with it.’

  Lottie scowled at him. He might as well have told her to run along and make herself look pretty. Well, she wasn’t going to be dismissed that easily. Pulling up a chair, she sat down opposite him, ignoring his dangerously narrowed eyes.

  ‘So tell me about it—the Seraphina Foundation. How long has it been going?’

  Rafael sighed hea
vily again. ‘Two years or so.’

  ‘So you started it shortly after I...’ Lottie faltered, suddenly wishing she hadn’t gone down this line of questioning. ‘After I left.’

  ‘Yes.’ His look told her that he had no intention of doing anything to ease her discomfort.

  ‘And how much money has it raised?’

  ‘I don’t have the exact figures at my fingertips.’

  Her silence indicated that she wasn’t going to be fobbed off with that.

  ‘It is a considerable sum. People can be very generous with a little persuasion.’

  ‘And where has the money gone? I mean to neonatal units across the principality, or just one particular hospital?

  ‘Originally it was for Ospedale D’Aosta, but now that project has been completed we intend to carry on. There are many other hospitals whose neonatal units desperately need money to update their equipment and facilities and attract the best specialists in that field.’

  He stopped abruptly, as if Lottie had tricked him into talking about this.

  ‘Now, if you will forgive me, I have a lot of work to get on with.’ Infuriatingly he looked down at his computer. ‘I suggest if you need any more information you look at the website.’

  Lottie was sorely tempted to tell him what to do with his suggestion. But there was something about the hitch of his shoulders, the very slight unsteadiness in his voice, that held her back. It made her realise that he wasn’t purely dismissing her because she irritated the hell out of him—though that was undoubtedly true—but because this was a subject close to his heart...painfully close...and the last thing he wanted was for Lottie so sense his vulnerability.

  Well, too bad.

  ‘So Ospedale D’Aosta has all the latest equipment now?’

  Just saying the name of the place hurt, and she wrapped her arms around herself for comfort. It was the hospital where Seraphina had been born—where she had died so shortly afterwards.