VITTORIO'S RUNAWAY BRIDE By: Kimberley Reeves
Logan Vittorio's life is torn apart when his bride of eight months desserts him without so much as a farewell note. Now he's on a mission to find Shelby and unravel the mystery that led to her hasty departure and to bring his runaway bride back home where she belongs.
Chapter 1
There were limits to how much pain one heart could take and Shelby McBride had passed that limit nearly six months ago. She was nothing more than a hollowed out shell; cold and empty inside, like an arctic wasteland where nothing grew and the bleakness of day and night melted together as one. The numbness should have been a blessing; at least she didn’t burst into tears at the drop of a hat anymore, but she’d also lost her smile and it wasn’t likely she’d get it back any time soon. God, she’d made such a mess of her life. But there was no turning back; she’d burned her bridges and now there was nothing to do but try and pick up the pieces and move on.
“Move on,” she snorted, her eyes wandering around the small room she’d converted into a studio.
How could she move on when every canvas was filled with the same image? Hair as dark as midnight, eyes that pierced her heart with their intensity, lips that had once caressed her skin and taken her to heights she never dreamed possible; she’d captured the perfection of him in dozens of different poses and still she couldn’t stop painting him. Because she loved him, had loved him from the first moment he’d taken her hand and introduced himself, and because no amount of time or distance would make her love him any less than she did now.
Move on? Not a chance in hell. Shelby was stuck in this God awful limbo, suspended somewhere between life and death and not really caring about anything. She was just going through the motions; eating when she remembered to, sleeping most of the day away, then spending half the night in her studio painting the man who haunted her no matter how hard she tried to drive him from her mind. Shelby was obsessed, she knew this, and yet she was helpless to do anything about it. That it was a prison of her own making did little to alleviate the hopelessness that was her only companion these days.
Shelby dabbed her brush into the olive colored paint and swept it over the canvas, adding a darker shade here and there to add depth to the features of his handsome face. Logan Vittorio had once been the center of her universe and in a perverse sort of way, he still was. With every breath she took he consumed her, just as he’d always done back when Shelby had been so sure of his love. It was a fantasy she thought dismally, an illusionary world where a man like Logan could actually love a shy, unobtrusive woman who had nothing to give but her heart and undying devotion. But it hadn’t been enough for him and less than a year after vowing to love and honor her for the rest of his life, her husband had betrayed her with another woman.
She hadn’t confronted Logan or the woman he was with. She’d been too shocked to move, too consumed with the raw pain of it to do anything but stand there and watch as her husband escorted the woman from the posh hotel and helped her into his limousine before ducking inside himself. Shelby hadn’t cried though, there would be time enough for tears later. She’d simply gone back to the elegant mansion where she and Logan had lived as husband and wife and packed as quickly as she could. She even managed to produce a smile for their housekeeper, Alba, along with a story that she was going to visit a friend for a few days.
She’d driven away in the car Logan had bought her as a wedding gift and taken the first highway out of town. She hadn’t left a note, offered no explanation for leaving or gave any indication where she was going. He was an intelligent man, he’d figure it out soon enough, and if he didn’t…well, the divorce papers would spell it out for him. Except Shelby had balked in the end and rather than announce to the world her husband had been unfaithful to her, she’d filed for a divorce listing the reason as irreconcilable differences.
She’d signed the papers in a hand that wasn’t quite steady and mailed them back to her attorney so he could forward them to Logan, then she’d taken off on a trip up the coast hoping to forget she’d ever met Logan Vittorio. Two days and a few hundred miles later she spotted the For Sale sign for the beachside cottage and veered off to the highway to take a look. It hadn’t really mattered where she wound up, but something about the cozy cottage drew Shelby to it and she’d called the realtor from her cell phone right then and there.
She’d paid cash for the cottage and within a week, she’d hired a contractor to do repair work and slap on a new coat of paint both inside and out. While the renovations were being done, Shelby filled her time picking out furniture and appliances and had the place completely furnished in no time at all. She even purchased new art supplies and set up her studio with the idea that she’d try her hand at painting the fantastic view of the ocean.
She’d been halfway through the first painting before she realized the dark figure she’d absently brushed onto the canvas was Logan. He was facing the ocean, but there was no mistaking those broad shoulders, impossibly long legs, or the dark windswept hair. What spooked her most was that she didn’t even remember doing it and though she’d attempted to paint views of the ocean several more times, they all ended up with Logan in them somewhere. Sometimes he was standing, sometimes sitting, and sometimes he was nothing more than a silhouette against the waning light of a setting sun. But he was always there.
The first few weeks after settling into the cottage had been the hardest because there had been no more contractors to deal with or shopping for furnishings to occupy her mind. Isolated as she was, Shelby didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing her when she cried herself to sleep or witness the meltdowns when she stood on the beach letting the sound of the waves drown out the harsh sobs that were wrenched from her body. Gradually, the emotional outbursts gave way to a listless acceptance that the loneliness would never go away, and now she was able to get through most days with only an occasional round of tears.
Maybe she should have confronted Logan, it might have given her some closure. But she’d taken the coward’s way out and left without a word. The only backbone she’d shown at all was when she filed for divorce and she might not have even done that if she’d had to face him. Against her lawyer’s advice, Shelby had forfeited her right to alimony, joint bank accounts and any property they’d acquired since their marriage. She didn’t want Logan’s money, she didn’t want any ties to him at all, and the fact that she had the financial means to support herself had made the decision just that much easier.
The only thing she’d hung onto besides the car was her wedding ring. Shelby set the brush down and lifted her hand, staring at the ring that had once symbolized Logan’s love for her but now only served as a reminder of broken dreams and promises. Why had he even married her if he had no intention of honoring his vows? She’d already given up her virginity to him and she’d certainly never issued any ultimatums about marriage, not that Logan would have folded to pressure from her anyway.
Was it because he was anxious to start a family and decided he needed a nice, docile wife who would forgive his indiscretions? Granted, Shelby wasn’t confrontational and even when she did disagree with Logan, there were never harsh words or hysterical crying on her part. She’d been as innocent as a woman could be when she’d first slept with Logan, was it possible he’d hoped that innocence would keep her blind to his unfaithfulness? Perhaps she’d still be married to him, breezing through each day believing he loved her, if only it hadn’t taken longer at the hairdresser’s than she’d anticipated that day. Sometimes Shelby wondered if she wouldn’t have preferred living in blissful ignorance rather than the empty existence she endured now.
If she was smart, she would have taken the ring off and left it on the
nightstand where Logan could find it. Then again, if she’d been smart she never would have married him in the first place. Inexperienced or not, at twenty-four she should have known it couldn’t possibly last. Logan was rich and powerful, devastatingly handsome and wholly male in every sense of the word, and there probably wasn’t a woman alive from sixteen to sixty who wouldn’t sell their soul for one night with him. They wouldn’t have been sorry for having done it either, she thought with a sad smile, because as much as it hurt to know Logan never really loved her, Shelby couldn’t regret a single night she’d spent in his arms.
***
“Don’t look now, but he’s coming our way.”
Shelby’s breath caught in her throat. “He’s not! Oh God, Maggie, tell me you’re just teasing.”
But Maggie hadn’t been teasing and the handsome Italian stranger she’d been practically drooling over all evening had weaved his way through the crowd and introduced himself. He addressed Maggie first, telling her how honored he was to meet her and how much he was looking forward to working with her father. Then he turned those dark, sexy eyes to Shelby and she nearly fainted from the serious lack of oxygen in her lungs. Her heart jack hammered in her chest when Logan took her hand with a knowing smile and ran his thumb in a seductive sweep over her wrist.
“Bellissimo,” he murmured. “Such a beautiful young woman should be out on the dance floor, do you agree?”
“I…yes,” she managed to squeak out.
A soft blush began to work its way up her neck as Logan led her to the dance floor and by the time he swept her into his arms, Shelby was positive her cheeks had to be blazing because she suddenly felt as if she’d stepped beneath a heat lamp. She’d been to more charity balls than she cared to count and she’d danced at every one of them, but never had her body responded to a man the way it was doing now. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and her knees were so weak she would have fallen in a spineless puddle at his feet if Logan hadn’t tightened his arm around her waist and kept her pressed firmly against him.
“Shelby is an unusual name,” he said, expertly twirling her around the dance floor.
“It…it was my mother’s maiden name.”
“And does your mother have the same beautiful green eyes?”
“Actually, it was my father who had green eyes. It’s the auburn hair I got from my mother.”
“Are they here tonight?”
Shelby’s eyes clouded. “No. I never really knew my mother, she passed away when I was only two. My father died last year.”
“So young to be without your parents,” he said solemnly. “Have you any brothers or sisters?”
“Unfortunately, no. My father never remarried and I was their only child. What about you, Logan?” He smiled down at her and Shelby’s stomach did a wild flip.
“I like the way you say my name.” Logan chuckled when she looked away. “I also like the way you blush, cara mia, it has been a long time since I have met a woman with modestly and who does not flirt outrageously.”
“I’m sure I’d turn ten shades of scarlet and have my tongue tied in knots if I even tried to flirt. But we were talking about your family,” she steered the conversation into safer waters.
“After what you have told me of your family, I almost feel guilty telling you about mine. Both of my parents are still alive and causing havoc with their children. I have one older brother, Simon, who just recently married and one sister, Milana, who also just got married. I have three younger brothers; Dante, Raffaele, and Gianluca, all of which are single at the present time.”
“Are you all close?”
“A little too close sometimes,” he grinned. “My brothers and I share the responsibility of running the family business and we do not always agree on how it should be done.”
“I can imagine. With five Italian males the arguments are bound to be quite passionate.” Shelby felt herself blushing once more. “What I mean is…well…it’s just that I’ve heard…”
“That Italian men are passionate?”
“Yes,” she mumbled, her cheeks flaming.
Logan pulled her closer, lowering his head so he could whisper in her ear. “It is true you know, and I should like very much to prove it to you.”
Shelby let out an audible gasp when the muscles in her abdomen suddenly clenched, accompanied by a rush of heat that made her skin tingle. She tilted her head back, fully intending to tell Mr. Logan Vittorio that his proposition was both inappropriate and unwelcomed, but the moment her eyes met his Shelby lost herself in their bottomless depths and couldn’t seem to utter even a single word of protest. Her heart was racing at a furious pace and her body temperature shot up as he lowered his mouth to hers and took advantage of her parted lips.
It was intoxicating to say the least and she may as well have downed several glasses of wine because the effects were just the same. Shelby’s head was spinning, her knees suddenly so weak she all but melted into him. If the world went on around them she wasn’t aware of it, she wasn’t aware of anything except the feel of his warm lips on hers and the strange sensations his kiss was eliciting. When he finally lifted his head, Shelby could do little more than gaze up at him with an inane smile and eyes that were clouded with desire.
Logan rested his forehead on hers and drew in a ragged breath. “Mio Dio, the things I want to do with you right now.”
Shelby closed her eyes, only vaguely aware their bodies were still swaying to the music. “Logan, I…I barely know you.”
“Then let us get to know one another better. Spend the night with me Shelby, let me make love to you.”
“I…can’t. I don’t sleep around, Logan.”
“But you want to be with me tonight,” he said huskily. “Your body is trembling, aching for my touch. Say it, cara, admit that you want me as much as I want you.”
“Yes,” she whispered faintly.
“But not tonight?”
She shook her head slowly, regretting her answer the minute it was out of her mouth. “No.”
“Then we will wait until you are ready.”
She shivered in response, as everything feminine inside of her begged her to change her mind and tell him she was ready now. She’d never been fascinated by sex in her teens as all of her girlfriends had been, and even as she got older it hadn’t held that much appeal. The thought of getting naked in front of a man was so abhorrent she’d never let any relationship develop beyond kissing, so she was stunned to realize that she wasn’t the least bit appalled at the idea of undressing for Logan. In fact, Shelby was so turned on by the image of her lying beneath his gloriously masculine body she felt a sudden rush of heat pool deep in her abdomen and a rather disconcerting moistness between her thighs. Startled by her own reaction to him, she tried to pull away but Logan held in her a vice like grip, obviously intent on keeping her from fleeing.
“You look frightened, mia tesoro,” he said softly. “Is it me you are afraid of or is it the way I make you feel?”
“I’m not afraid…of you.” His hand glided slowly up her spine making her whole body quiver. “Logan,” she choked, “you have to stop.”
The corner of his mouth twitched as if he found something greatly amusing. “Stop what, cara? I am merely dancing with you.”
Shelby rarely got angry, but the Irish blood in her instantly shot to the boiling point when she realized he was toying with her. He’d been seducing her from the first moment his hand held hers and she was horrified at how easily she’d fallen prey to him. He was laughing at her, she could see it in his eyes. Had she honestly believed a man like Logan Vittorio would find her attractive? It was obvious he’d just gone for the easy kill because quiet, shy little Shelby couldn’t possibly withstand the onslaught of such alluring charm, could she? It was humiliating to know she’d nearly given in and though a small part of her fervently wished she could have spent the night with him, a greater part of her resented Logan for making her feel like such a fool.
Her eyes blazed
in total opposition of the iciness in her tone. “As tempting as your offer is, I think I’ll pass. But don’t worry; I’m sure there are any number of women here who would be more than happy to warm your bed.”
Logan’s brows drew together. “If that is all I was looking for, I am sure you are right, but I do not want a one night stand with you, Shelby. When I said you were different from any woman I have met, I meant it.”
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