by Lynne Graham
The Italian husband she can’t remember
...or resist!
After a terrible car crash, Brooke can’t remember her own name—much less her wedding day! Finding irresistible Lorenzo Tassini at her bedside—and a gold band on her finger—is shocking.
Honor-bound to care for his estranged wife, Lorenzo whisks her to his luxury Tuscan villa. But Brooke’s nothing like Lorenzo remembers! Her sweetness surprises him, as does the chemistry between them, blazing like never before. Stunned to discover her virginity, Lorenzo must uncover the secrets of the woman wearing his ring...
“What happened to me?” Brooke whispered brokenly, her breath rasping. “Have I been ill?”
“You were in an accident.” The doctor paused there, exchanging a glance with the staff surrounding the bed.
“What’s my name?” she asked shakily.
“Your name is Brooke...Brooke Tassini.”
The name meant absolutely nothing to her, didn’t even sound slightly familiar.
“Your husband will be here very soon.”
Brooke’s eyes widened to their fullest extent in shock. “I have a husband?”
For some reason, the nurses smiled. “Oh, yes, you have a husband.”
“A very handsome husband,” one of the women added.
Brooke stared down at her bare wedding finger. She was married. Oh, my goodness, she was married.
Passion in Paradise
Exotic escapes...and red-hot romances!
Step into a jet-set world where first class is the only way to travel. From Monte Carlo to Tuscany, you’ll find a billionaire at every turn! But no billionaire is complete without the perfect romance. Especially when that passion is found in the most incredible destinations...
Find out what happens in:
The Innocent’s Forgotten Wedding by Lynne Graham
The Italian’s Pregnant Cinderella by Caitlin Crews
Kidnapped for His Royal Heir by Maya Blake
His Greek Wedding Night Debt by Michelle Smart
The Spaniard’s Surprise Love-Child by Kim Lawrence
My Shocking Monte Carlo Confession by Heidi Rice
A Bride Fit for a Prince? by Susan Stephens
A Scandal Made in London by Lucy King
Available this month!
Lynne Graham
The Innocent’s Forgotten Wedding
Lynne Graham was born in Northern Ireland and has been a keen romance reader since her teens. She is very happily married to an understanding husband who has learned to cook since she started to write! Her five children keep her on her toes. She has a very large dog who knocks everything over, a very small terrier who barks a lot and two cats. When time allows, Lynne is a keen gardener.
Books by Lynne Graham
Harlequin Presents
The Greek’s Blackmailed Mistress
The Italian’s Inherited Mistress
Indian Prince’s Hidden Son
Conveniently Wed!
The Greek’s Surprise Christmas Bride
One Night With Consequences
His Cinderella’s One-Night Heir
Billionaires at the Altar
The Greek Claims His Shock Heir
The Italian Demands His Heirs
The Sheikh Crowns His Virgin
Vows for Billionaires
The Secret Valtinos Baby
Castiglione’s Pregnant Princess
Da Rocha’s Convenient Heir
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
EXCERPT FROM THE ITALIAN'S PREGNANT CINDERELLA BY CAITLIN CREWS
CHAPTER ONE
MILLY’S HEARTBEAT SPEEDED UP with excitement when she saw Brooke’s name flash across the screen of her cheap mobile because it had been a while since she had heard from her famous and glamorous half-sister.
When Brooke phoned, however, it meant that Brooke needed her and that truth more than made up for Brooke’s often cold and seemingly critical attitude towards her. Milly loved being needed and, in any case, deep down inside, Milly was convinced that her sister cared about her even though she might be too proud to admit it.
After all, why else would Brooke confide in her about so many private things if she did not, at heart, see Milly as a trustworthy friend and sister? Furthermore, aside of each other, neither one of them had a single living relative. Nor was it surprising that Brooke would need her services again when her life was in such turmoil, thanks to that dreadful possessive tyrant of a man she had mistakenly married. What sort of a man would try and come between Brooke and her career? What sort of man would divorce a wife as beautiful and talented as Brooke simply over ugly rumours that she had had an affair?
‘He won’t listen to a word I say!’ Brooke had wept when she’d confided in Milly. ‘He set me up because he wants rid of me. I’m convinced he paid that creep to lure me into a hotel room and lie about having sex with me!’
‘Brooke?’ Milly exclaimed warmly as she answered her phone.
‘I need you to pretend to be me for a few days.’
‘A few...days?’ Milly stressed in dismay, for that request went far beyond anything her sister had asked of her before. ‘Are you sure I’ll be able to manage that? I’m OK until people speak to me and expect me to be you!’
‘You’ll be holed up in a fancy hotel in the heart of London,’ Brooke told her drily. ‘You won’t be required to talk to anyone but room service. You won’t need to leave the room at all.’
Milly frowned. ‘For how long?’ she pressed anxiously.
‘Five or six days. That’s all,’ Brooke informed her briskly.
‘I can’t, Brooke,’ Milly protested apologetically. ‘I’ve got a job and I don’t want to lose it.’
‘You’re a waitress, Milly, not a brain surgeon,’ her half-sister reminded her tartly. ‘You can pick up casual work anywhere at this time of year. And if it’s a matter of me paying your rent again for you, I’ll do it!’
Milly flushed and subsided again because it was true, she could find another job relatively easily, and if Brooke made up her loss of wages to cover the rent on her bedsit as well, she had no grounds for complaint either. When it occurred to her that she had ended up sleeping on a friend’s sofa the last time she’d needed help to cover her rent, she suppressed the memory. Brooke had forgotten to give her the money she had promised but Milly felt that that oversight was her own fault because she had been too embarrassed to remind Brooke. She couldn’t help but shrink from highlighting the financial differences between her and her sister, and wasn’t one bit surprised that Brooke had always refused to be seen in public with her or invite her into her more exciting world even briefly, except in Milly’s guise as a lookalike. What else could she expect? Milly asked herself ruefully. In truth, she was lucky to have any kind of relationship with her sibling at all...
Brooke had first sought out Milly when she was eighteen and fresh out of a council home for foster kids. Milly had already known that she was illegitimate, but she had been shocked by what her newly discovered half-sister had to tell her—well, shocked and initially repulsed by Brooke’s view of the circumstances of her birth. But then, slowly, she had come to understand B
rooke’s feelings of betrayal and had forgiven her sister for her offensive wording.
‘Your mother was the slut who almost broke up my parents’ happy marriage!’ Brooke had told her sharply.
To be fair to Brooke, Milly’s mother had been the other woman who slept with a married man, inflicting considerable suffering on that man’s innocent wife and child. Brooke and Milly’s father, William Jackson, a wealthy wine importer, had had a long-running affair with a model called Natalia Taylor and had threatened to leave his wife over her.
Sadly, a heart attack had taken William’s life when Brooke was fifteen and Milly was nine. Natalia had died in a bus crash only a couple of years later and Milly had ended up in council care, where she had remained until she reached eighteen. At first meeting, both young women had been taken aback by the likeness between them, for they had both inherited their father’s white-blonde curly hair and dark blue eyes. Milly, however, had had a large bump in her nose and somehow the features that made Brooke a stunning beauty had blurred in Milly’s case, putting her into the pretty rather than beautiful category.
It had been Brooke’s idea that she could use Milly as a stand-in either to avoid an event she considered boring or, more frequently, to mislead the paparazzi that dogged her footsteps and who occasionally followed her places where she didn’t want to be seen or photographed her with individuals whom she didn’t wish to be seen with. Brooke was obsessed with airbrushing and controlling the public image she wanted to show the world.
In the same way she had pointed out that Milly couldn’t help her unless she was prepared to go that extra mile and have her nose ‘done’ so that it mirrored Brooke’s far more elegant nose. At first, Milly had said a very firm no to that idea, not because she was fond of her less than perfect nose but just because it was hers and she was accustomed to her own flaws.
Brooke had had a huge row with her over her refusal and Milly had been devastated when her half-sister had cut off all contact with her. When Brooke had called her again six weeks later, Milly had been so grateful to hear from her that she had agreed to the surgical procedure and before she could change her mind she had been whisked into a private clinic and her nose had been skilfully enhanced to resemble Brooke’s. Once that had been achieved, expert make-up had completed her transformation.
The first time Milly had pretended to be Brooke to enable her sister to evade a boring charity event, she had been terrified, even dressed in her sister’s clothes and made up to look like her, but nobody had suspected a thing and, for the first time in her life, Milly had felt like an achiever. Brooke’s gratitude had made her feel wonderfully warm inside and the second time, when Milly had had to simply step out of a limousine and walk into a shop while Brooke was many miles away, she had felt even better. She had discovered that it was fun to dress up in expensive clothes and pretend to be someone she was not and there had been very little fun in Milly’s life before Brooke entered it.
And with Brooke in her current predicament, struggling to deal with her broken marriage, Milly knew that she should definitely go that extra mile for her sister. ‘Where will you be while I sit in this hotel?’ she asked curiously.
‘Having a very discreet little holiday, so I’ll need your passport,’ Brooke advanced. ‘I daren’t travel on my own.’
And Milly frowned at that reference to her passport but could only smile at the mention of a holiday. A holiday was exactly what her poor sister needed at this stressful time in her life and if Milly room-sitting in some fancy hotel was all that was required, it would be utterly selfish of her to refuse to help. ‘OK. I’ll do it.’
‘You can only bring one small bag with you. I’ve packed a case for you, and you can change into my clothes in the car,’ Brooke informed her. ‘I’ll do your make-up in the car too. I’m better at it than you are.’
After Brooke had arranged to pick her up, Milly straightened her hair and threw her passport, fresh underwear, a couple of books and a range of craft items into a bag before heading out. It was a filthy wet day and she didn’t step out onto the pavement until she had her umbrella up to protect her hair for Brooke’s hair was always a perfect blonde fall without even a hint of curl.
First, however, Milly took ten minutes to walk down the street and quit her waitressing job in a local café, mentioning a family emergency. She hated letting people down, but Brooke had been right, she would probably find another job quite quickly, she reasoned, guilty at having let an employer she liked down at short notice. But, my goodness, Brooke did deserve a holiday after everything she had recently been through and if she could help her sibling achieve that, then she could be proud of herself because family needs came first, family should always come first, she thought ruefully, regretting that neither of her parents had lived by that truth.
Brooke looked amazing when Milly glimpsed her inside the limo, all groomed and flawless in a black jacket, a tomato-red sheath dress and very high-heeled stilettos. It was likely, though, to be a struggle for her sibling to get out of that dress in the back of the limo, no matter how spacious it was, Milly ruminated.
‘Quick, get in!’ Brooke snapped at her. ‘We can’t be seen together!’
‘What about the driver?’ Milly asked in bemusement as the passenger door closed to seal the two women into privacy.
‘I pay him well to keep quiet!’ Brooke fielded, snapping shut the privacy screen between the front and the rear seats. ‘Now help me out of this dress... Oh, yes, don’t forget that I need your passport too.’
‘It has to be against the law for you to travel on my passport,’ Milly muttered uncomfortably. ‘Do you have to borrow it?’
Brooke settled furious dark blue eyes on her. ‘I don’t have a choice. I’ll be traced if I travel under my own name. With your name, I’m nobody, and nobody is the slightest bit interested in me or where I go.’
Reluctantly accepting that reality, Milly handed over her passport and proceeded to help her sibling out of her tight dress.
‘Good grief, I don’t see you for a couple of months and you let yourself turn into the ugly sister. Your nails are awful!’ Brooke complained, snatching at one of Milly’s hands to frown down at the sight of nails that were an unpainted and modest length. ‘I’m always perfectly groomed. When you’re checking in, keep them hidden and get a manicurist to come to the room and fix them before you check out again!’ she instructed impatiently.
‘I’m sorry,’ Milly muttered, choosing not to point out that she couldn’t afford to have her nails done professionally. Brooke regarded expensive treatments in the beauty field as essential maintenance and never ever considered the cost of them. ‘When do you think you’ll be back?’
‘Hell...you’re putting on weight again too, aren’t you?’ Brooke said in frustration as she urged Milly to breathe in to enable her to get the zip up on the fitted dress.
Milly had been born curvier and almost an inch shorter than Brooke and she didn’t respond. She knew she wasn’t overweight but since meeting Brooke, who was thinner, she had deliberately dropped almost a stone so that she could fit better into her sister’s clothes. Unfortunately, that had meant avoiding all her favourite comfort foods and reining in her love of chocolate. Beside her, Brooke kicked off her shoes and began to dress in jeans and a long concealing top, bundling her hair up under a peaked cap. Digging into her bag she produced moist wipes and began to wipe off her make-up.
‘It’s like being a spy,’ Milly remarked with helpless amusement.
‘Don’t be so childish, Milly!’ Brooke snapped impatiently. ‘Have you any idea how much is riding on this holiday I’m having? This is too important to joke about. I’m meeting someone while I’m away who may put my name forward for a film part.’
‘Well, it’s exciting for me,’ Milly confided with a little wrinkle of her nose and a look of guilty apology. ‘Sorry. I expect it’ll be pretty boring stuck in that hotel room thoug
h, so this is the fun part.’
‘You’ll need my rings...for goodness’ sake, don’t lose them! I may need to sell them somewhere down the road,’ Brooke admitted stiffly, threading her wedding and engagement rings off her long manicured finger and passing them over. ‘That bastard, Lorenzo! He could have slung me a few million for the sake of it, but he stuck to the letter of the pre-nup. I’m not getting a penny I’m not due. Still, he’ll just be a bad memory a few years down the road. My next husband will be a fashion icon or an actor, not a banker!’
Disappointed by her sister’s bad mood, Milly donned the rings and slid her feet into the shoes while Brooke passed her bag and jacket over. ‘Do you think that when you come back we could spend an evening together?’ she asked hesitantly.
‘Why would I want to do that?’ Brooke demanded.
‘It’s been ages since we spent any real time together,’ Milly pointed out quietly. ‘I would really enjoy that and maybe talking over things would make you feel better.’
‘I’m feeling fine.’ Brooke snapped open the privacy screens and lifted her make-up kit before pausing to communicate with the driver and telling him to speed up because she didn’t want to check in late for her flight. ‘When I first went looking for you, I was curious about you. But I’m not curious any more. I’ve been very good to you too, sprucing you up, fixing your face. What more can you expect from me? It’s not as though we could ever be friends, not with your mother having slept with my father while he was still married to my mother. Do you realise that my poor mother tried to kill herself over their affair?’
Milly paled at that new revelation and dropped her head. ‘I am so sorry, Brooke, but I’ve been hoping that in time...well, that we could get over that history because we’re still sisters.’
Brooke pushed up Milly’s chin to outline her mouth with lip liner. ‘Smile...yes, that’s the ticket. There is no getting over the fact that your mother shagged my father and I don’t do friends. Friends let you down and talk behind your back.’
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