Harlequin Romance September 2021 Box Set

by Andrea Bolter

  “Yes. Is that a problem?”

  She thought about it for a moment. It wasn’t like she had anyone waiting for her at home. She had her own apartment and didn’t so much as have a pet. So there was no one to miss her. And she’d already made arrangements with her father’s live-in companion to keep an extra close eye on Carlo this evening.

  “It’s no problem at all. Tomorrow will be soon enough to adjust to the reality of our new situation.”

  He once more offered his arm to her. Who would have thought that Franco Marchello was such a gentleman? She smiled as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. They strolled into the villa that had obviously just been renovated. Everything inside was shiny and new.

  They kicked off their shoes by the door. It was only then that Carla realized how sore her feet were from dancing in heels all evening. But she’d been so caught up in the festivities that she hadn’t noticed until now.

  Franco slipped off his tux jacket. He removed the black tie and then he unbuttoned the collar. He undid his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves. Though it was a much more casual look, it made him look even more attractive—like a real-life James Bond.

  While Franco set to work building a fire in the living room’s stone fireplace, she poured them some more bubbly. In her nervousness, she filled the glasses a bit too much. Oh well, it was a night for celebrating. She held out a glass to him.

  When Franco resisted taking the glass, she said, “Go ahead. We have a lot to celebrate.”

  “We do?”

  She nodded. “Our plan is underway. Tomorrow you and I will start figuring out the best way to advance both of our companies. I see a beautiful future for both of us.”

  He clinked his glass against hers. “I’m looking forward to it. But business will come soon enough. Let’s just focus on the here and now.” They settled on the couch and sipped the sparkling wine. “Did you enjoy the day?”

  “Other than the scene with my father, it was a wonderful wedding.”

  His gaze flickered to hers and then moved back to the fire. “If you’re having regrets, it’s not too late to back out.”

  She shook her head. The truth was she’d never considered getting married against her father’s wishes. “If this had been a real wedding, yes, it would have been unbearable. It’s hard enough not having my mother in my life. I miss her every day—every time I need some advice. With my father being my only living parent, I just can’t imagine having him angry at me if this were a real wedding, but luckily it’s not.” Then realizing how that might sound, she said, “You know what I mean.”

  Franco nodded. “He loves you a lot. That much is very obvious.”

  “I don’t know if he loves me a lot. People that love you don’t normally push you into a marriage you don’t want or block you from taking over the business when it’s for their own welfare. And then get furious when you finally marry like they wanted.”

  “That’s not exactly fair. You know how he feels about my family. You knew he wouldn’t take it well.”

  “I just wish he trusted me to know what’s right for me and would stop trying to push me into what he thinks I should do.”

  “I think he’s done all of it because he’s worried something might happen to him and he doesn’t want you to end up alone.”

  It wasn’t like she was a child. She could pick out her own husband—just like she’d done. Not that Franco was really her husband—well, legally he was, but not in her heart.

  She decided it was best to skip over the marriage and husband part; instead she asked, “Then why doesn’t he trust me with what he loves most in this world—the restaurants?”

  Franco paused as though giving her question due consideration. Then he rubbed the back of his neck. “I wish I could give you an answer, but I have no idea. You’re very smart, well-educated and full of energy. I think he’s foolish for wanting someone else to fill in for him.”

  His spontaneous compliments warmed a spot in her chest. “You really think I’m that well suited for the position?”

  His gaze once more met hers. “I do. You’d be my first pick.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled at him. She had no idea that he thought so highly of her. It was like he’d bestowed yet another wedding gift upon her—one that meant so much more than the designer wedding dress or the glittering diamond wedding band.

  Her gaze lowered and she lifted her hand ever so slightly, letting the firelight play over the arrangement of diamonds encompassing her finger. He certainly hadn’t withheld anything for this marriage—even if it was only a temporary one.

  She wondered what his extravagance meant. Did he wish there was more to this marriage than there was? Her heart fluttered at the thought. Or was this just his generous way?

  It was at this point that she realized just how much she didn’t know about her extremely handsome and mysterious husband. And since they’d already talked about her complicated relationship with her father, it was time she learned a bit more about the man she was married to.

  “And what about you?” she asked. “What was it like to get married without not only your grandparents but your mother and father as well?”

  He sighed and leaned his head back against the couch. As he moved, he slid a little closer to her, making her heart pitter-pat faster. “If this was a real wedding, I couldn’t have done it without inviting my grandparents. For better or worse, they’ve always been there for me—even when my grandfather vehemently disagreed with me.”

  “I’m glad you have them. But what about your parents? I’ve noticed you never mention them.”

  “What’s to mention? My father is like some distant uncle that stops by once in a blue moon when he’s in town and is gone again before any meaningful connection can be established. And my mother, well, she’s around for the important events, but her focus is always on her ever-revolving romances.”

  “I’m sorry.” Carla didn’t know what else to say.

  Her mother had always been there for her—right up until she died. Even hiding the truth of her illness from her so she wouldn’t have to worry. Though Carla would have much rather known about the severity of her mother’s illness. She might have done things differently. Might have stopped what she was doing to spend those last days with her mother. But this conversation wasn’t about her.

  “It’s okay.” The anguished tone of his voice said it was anything but okay.

  Her heart ached for that little boy who’d been tossed aside and forgotten. How could someone do that to their child? It was unimaginable.

  She swallowed her rising emotions. “That must have been so hard for a young boy not to have either of his parents around.”

  “I figure they had their reasons to keep their distance. After all, my grandfather isn’t an easy man to deal with.”

  “You think that’s the reason they left.”

  He shrugged. “I think it’s my father’s reason, but not my mother’s. She doesn’t listen to anyone but herself. But my father, well, I think he couldn’t do anything right in my grandfather’s eyes, and he got tired of trying.”

  “But why would they leave you and your brother?”

  “I’m not sure. I wouldn’t put it past my grandfather to threaten to fight for custody of us. After all, we are the heirs to the Marchello estate. And without my father around, we were even more important to him.”

  Sympathy welled up in her for the little boy Franco had once been, who didn’t understand why both of his parents had disappeared from his life. How could his parents just abandon him and his brother? Who did such a thing?

  She turned to Franco to tell him how sorry she felt for him, but when his gaze met hers, she immediately forgot what she’d been about to say. The longer they gazed into each other’s eyes, the faster her heart beat.

  Had he moved closer to her? Because their shoulders wer
e now touching. Or was it possible that she had leaned over toward him? There was this undeniable desire drawing them together. Her entire body tingled with an excited awareness.

  When it came to husbands, she’d definitely come up with a winning one. There was no denying that he was handsome, but even more than that he was thoughtful. What kind of man went to all this trouble for a wife in name only?

  She couldn’t even fathom the extremes he would go to for a woman he loved. And she didn’t want to imagine it. Not now. Not in this moment.

  Because no matter their reason for exchanging wedding vows, the truth of the matter was that they were legally husband and wife. And though she wanted to tell herself that it was all a business arrangement, she couldn’t deny that there had been a definite shift in the ground beneath her feet when she’d said I do.

  And now when she stared at her newly minted husband, she wondered if that kiss they’d shared when the minister had pronounced them husband and wife had been real. Because she’d swear her feet had been floating above the ground. It was that good—that heart-poundingly amazing.

  A loud pop of wood in the fireplace made her jump. The champagne sloshed over the sides of her glass and dripped down over her fingers. When she glanced down at the sticky mess, she realized that it had spilled onto Franco’s white dress shirt.

  “Oh no. I’m so sorry.”

  “No big deal.”

  She was horrified. “I’ll get something to dry it.” She spotted some napkins placed next to trays of finger foods left for them by the catering staff. She grabbed a napkin and then turned to Franco.

  As she knelt on the couch next to him, she pressed the napkin to his abdomen. Being left-handed, she had no choice but to place her other hand on his chest to keep herself from falling into him.

  She ran the white cloth up his side, all the while feeling the steely strength of his muscles. Her mouth grew dry. She didn’t dare meet his gaze. He’d know where her thoughts had strayed.

  “If you were trying to cool things off between us,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice, “it isn’t working.” And then he moved to unbutton his shirt.

  Carla’s mouth grew dry as she watched him undo one button and then the next. “What...what are you doing?”

  A little smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Taking off my wet shirt so you won’t worry about it any longer.”

  She sat back on her heels as he pulled his shirt free. She shouldn’t be sitting there openly staring at him, but she was helpless to stop. His chest was so toned, it was though he spent every day at the gym. His tanned skin was smooth, and his chest had a smattering of dark curls. Wow!

  Her fingers tingled to reach out and work their way up his torso. She resisted the urge. She wasn’t quite sure how that was possible. Maybe it was the fact that at this moment her mind was overwhelmed with everything that had happened today.

  She finally dragged her gaze up to meet his. She didn’t know what she expected to find, but it sure wasn’t the desire flickering in his eyes, mirroring her own rising needs.

  One moment, she was sitting there looking at him, and in the next his lips were pressing to hers. If she thought their first kiss as husband and wife had been something, it was nothing compared to this passionate embrace.

  Without an audience, there was no need to hold back. And he most certainly didn’t as he wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss. Then, using those muscles she’d been admiring, he swept her into his arms and repositioned them so she was lying back on the couch. He settled on top of her—the full, lean length of him. And they were still kissing—oh, were they kissing.

  And right now, Carla had absolutely no desire to stop this delicious moment. After all, what was to stop them? For the next six months, he was her husband. And yes, maybe they had made some initial ground rules about what was expected from the marriage, but as his mouth moved over hers and her fingers trailed over his bare shoulders, she couldn’t quite recall what those ground rules had been.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LAST NIGHT HAD been a mistake.

  A complete and total mistake.

  Franco couldn’t believe he’d let himself spend the entire night with his new bride. It had been the most amazing evening—one he wasn’t soon to forget. Oh, who was he kidding? He was never going to forget it. Carla was the type of woman who left her mark upon your life.

  He raked his fingers through his hair as he paced back and forth in the living room. He hadn’t even been married for twenty-four hours before he’d broken their agreement to keep things uncomplicated and totally platonic.

  Luckily for him, Carla had still been asleep when he’d awoken that morning. But he knew she’d be up soon, and then what would he say to her? How would he explain how he’d let things get totally and absolutely out of control?

  As his mind rolled back over the highlights of their evening together, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. So maybe it wasn’t all bad. In fact, it had been quite good—

  “Morning.”

  At the sound of Carla’s voice, the smile slipped from his face. Hesitantly, he turned. Carla wasn’t smiling but she wasn’t frowning, either. His body tensed as he waited for her to start yelling at him about how he’d broken all the rules when he’d slipped off his shirt and then proceeded to kiss her.

  He could blame it on the alcohol, but that wasn’t the truth. The fact was he’d been fantasizing about kissing again her ever since they’d been pronounced—he hesitated, still not at all comfortable with their new marital status—since they’d formalized their agreement. It was in that moment—with the memory of them taking a vow of forever, in sickness and in health—that he came back to reality. The excitement of the evening wore off and he could finally think straight once more.

  He cleared his throat. “Morning. There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you.” When she smiled, he felt his heart beat faster.

  He struggled not to return the smile. It was better to cool things off now before either of them got in too deep and ended up getting hurt in the end. And there would be an end. He didn’t believe in marriage—in forever. And this was just a business arrangement, nothing more.

  When Carla turned toward the kitchen, he followed her. “I was thinking we should get back to the city as soon as you’re ready.”

  She poured herself a cup of coffee. “I’m sorry I slept so late.” She yawned. “I’m just really tired.”

  Her back was to him, so he wasn’t able to read the look on her face. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “About last night—it was a mistake.”

  Carla spun around. Her gaze narrowed on him. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. This just made him all the more uncomfortable. He couldn’t help but wonder if that had been her intent.

  Still, the longer the silence lingered, the more awkward the moment became. So he said, “I don’t want to hurt you. And if I let you think this is the beginning of something, it’d be a lie—”

  “Good. I was hoping you didn’t get the wrong idea, either.” Her voice was calm and restrained.

  It wasn’t the reaction he’d been anticipating. Most women he’d been involved with always wanted more than he could offer. And some got very angry when he set them straight.

  She took a big gulp of coffee before turning to him. “I just have to run upstairs and grab my stuff. Then we can go.” When her dismissal of their lovemaking left him speechless, she asked, “Is there something else?”

  “Um, no. So we’re all right?”

  “Sure.” Her voice was light and upbeat. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  And with that she sailed out of the kitchen with her coffee cup in hand. He was left standing there with his mouth hanging open. Had that just happened? Was his lovemaking that unremarkable?

  Disappointment assailed him. He didn’t know what he’d bee
n expecting from her, but it hadn’t been a complete dismissal of their passionate night. He should be happy. This gave them a chance for a do-over—a chance to keep things purely platonic.

  But he knew any attempt to forget what they’d shared the night before was going to be difficult. No. It was going to be a downright impossible feat. There was no forgetting Carla.

  * * *

  She had to get away.

  Her bare feet moved up the steps silently.

  Carla tripped at the top of staircase in her haste to get away from Franco. Her free hand reached out, grabbing the banister. Luckily she’d drunk enough of the coffee that it hadn’t splashed over the side.

  She didn’t tarry on the landing. The last thing she wanted was to face Franco again so soon. She didn’t want him to know how his words in the kitchen had cut her deeply. And she had a sinking feeling that her disappointment and pain were written all over her face. How she’d kept it all together in front of him had been her best acting job ever.

  She rushed inside the bedroom she’d shared with Franco. With the door shut, she leaned back against it. Her vision blurred. Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks.

  She grew angry with herself for getting worked up. But when he’d so easily dismissed their lovemaking—a night that felt like it was the beginning of something real between them—she’d felt as though she’d been cut to the quick. She didn’t readily open herself to someone like she had with Franco.

  Maybe it was the wedding vows—to love, honor and cherish. Or maybe it was the litany of romantic ballads they’d danced to all evening. Or maybe it was a bit too much champagne. Or perhaps it was a lethal combination of all those things that had had her letting down her guard last night. Franco had gotten closer to her than any other man had ever done, including her loser ex-fiancé.

  And worse yet was she’d let herself fall into a false sense of security with Franco’s soul-stirring kisses, his gentle caresses and his endearing words. Ugh! What was wrong with her? He was probably that way with all his women—