This Christmas and Forever: A heartwarming anthology of billionaire holiday romances...

by Clare Connelly

  He didn’t move. Nor did he contradict her. In fact, he looked bored. Unconcerned. As though the fact that he’d obviously upset her didn’t bother him a jot.

  “I mean it, Antonio. What the hell happened to make you such a bastard?”

  Antonio flinched but it was so quick that Elizabeth thought she might have imagined it. Perhaps recent discoveries had added a new layer of cynicism to an already world-weary man. He scanned her beautiful face, wondering for the briefest of moments if it was at all possible that her heart was as attractive as her body and face.

  But surely it couldn’t be. No one on earth could be so angelic. Even Niko’s wife Bianca had shown her true colors. Oh, Niko had never discussed it with him, but Marcos had let slip just enough for Antonio to grasp that she had been unfaithful and treacherous. Bianca had cheated on Niko, and his own mother, Nicoletta, had cheated on Umberto, and he, Antonio, was the byproduct of the affair. Yes, he was cynical about women, but with every reason in the world.

  “Change my mind, bella Elisabetta. Tell me why you are so different to all the other women I’ve ever known. Show me that even though you married a dying millionaire, that money does not motivate your heart.”

  Tears sprung to her eyes, but they were angry, hot tears. “No,” she retorted fiercely. “I don’t owe you an explanation. It is not through me you’ll find the salvation of women-kind. You arrogant jerk.” She dashed away her tears, refusing to let them spill down her cheeks in this man’s presence.

  “I don’t have patience for tears,” he said coldly and Elizabeth let out an angry sigh.

  “I’m not crying. I’m angry.” She glared at him, though through her wetly shimmering eyes, she thought she detected discomfort rather than anything else. A beat of time passed, that seemed to pulse with feeling.

  “I have always believed the truth is a desirable quantity. The fact that you seem to revel in your place as a fundraising extraordinaire is not a point we need to debate.”

  “You’re… unbelievable.” She growled softly, slapping her palm against her forehead in frustration. “Is it so hard for you to believe I’m just a good person, trying to do a good thing?”

  Another long pause as he analysed her carefully, but the silence breathed fresh life into her temper.

  “I’m not kidding, Antonio. Something has seriously messed you up. You’re the one who wants to ‘get to know each other’. So what is it? What’s made you such an A-grade jerk?” She put her hands on her hips and stared at him, waiting for an answer.

  “To answer that,” he said, and when he spoke, his voice was thick with some unknown emotion, “I’ll have to tell you more than you’re bargaining for.” He slid his gaze from her face, to the wall beyond. “You asked me earlier why I bought Ravens Manor.”

  “Ravens Manor?” She stuttered. “I don’t give two hoots about that now. I’m asking about what happened in your life to make you so horribly cynical about everything and everyone.”

  “It begins and ends with Ravens Manor,” he said warningly. His softly voiced statement silenced her, and he continued. “I was approached by the previous owner about three months ago.” He seemed to be searching for the right words and now it was Elizabeth’s turn to be scathing.

  “Do you have a point, Antonio?”

  He nodded dismissively. “Did you know Dennison Arthur?”

  “Who used to own the place?”

  Antonio nodded again.

  “No. I never met him; he was reasonably reclusive.”

  “Not reclusive enough.” He expelled a long slow breath and dragged a hand through his hair. “I haven’t discussed this with anyone, not even my brothers, so I would appreciate your discretion.”

  Elizabeth was very still and watchful. Silently, she encouraged him to continue.

  “Arthur was under the impression that I already knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That I was not Umberto’s. My father’s. Or at least, the man who had raised me as his son.”

  “What are you saying?” She frowned, trying to keep up with the conversational twists and turns.

  “My mother was never faithful to my father, though thank God, she was a better liar than many women, and Umberto died without a clue. I was the byproduct of one of her extra-marital unions.”

  “You mean…” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “You’re Dennison Arthur’s son?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s why you bought Ravens Manor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Antonio let out a small laugh. “Because I came to England to avoid seeing anyone. Not my brothers, certainly not my mother, no one. I am not in the mood to be pleasant. I am never particularly pleasant, anyway, but at the moment, I am perfectly happy to be alone, and think badly of everyone I meet. You included.”

  Elizabeth, whose heart was soft and tender, reached out and touched his arm lightly. “I’m sorry. You must have been shocked.”

  Antonio looked down at her arm, then back to her eyes, and his expression was thick with need. “Are you offering to help me forget my pain?”

  His meaning was clear. Instead of pulling away from him, releasing her hold on his warm forearm, she took a small step closer, so that they stood toe to toe in the very beautiful and historic room of Ravens Manor. In that moment, her body was alive with adrenalin, fear, desire and a raw need that would not be ignored for a moment longer. Later, Elizabeth wondered what the hell had come over her, but there was no way she could deny the force of her attraction any more.

  She was twenty six, not an old crone, and the very real flesh and blood of her body was pounding in her ears, demanding to be heard.

  “I…,” she whispered, and in the wide set eyes, that were daunted with confusion, he saw her desire.

  Triumph flared in his expression as he lowered his head the infinitesimal distance so that he could bring his lips to hers. A breath of anticipation escaped her full, soft lips and he took advantage of her open mouth to possess her fully, and completely, tasting her and imprinting himself on her.

  Of their own accord, her hands crept up and ran through his hair, as they’d been aching to do since the first moment she’d seen him, wearing nothing but a pair of tight jeans. She knew his chest was honed and taut, and her hands slid from his hair, down his back, inside his shirt and along the ridges of his tightly honed abdominals.

  Antonio had intended to go slowly with Elizabeth, but he realized that she didn’t want that. She was hungry. And passionate. Very, very passionate, beneath that veneer of cool control.

  He slid her jacket off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor at their feet, without removing his lips from hers. Her bare arms, exposed to him, were soft and supple and he let his fingers feel every inch of flesh before running down her sides, to her neat waist. The damned dress she was wearing might have been little more than a sheath, but it still covered far, far too much.

  With an impatient groan, he pulled her against him, so at least their bodies, fully clothed, were in complete contact. It had been a long time since he’d been so impatient for someone. He’d been a kid, probably, still learning what his body was capable of doing and feeling. But he wanted her now with that same lustful desperation.

  Elizabeth had never felt a sexual hunger so great. She refused to compare what she was feeling for Antonio with the way she and Alastair had been. Her connection to her husband had never been about the physical. She had loved him wholly and completely, for his mind, not his failing, awful body, that had ruined all her hopes of happiness in the end.

  No. Antonio was so virile, so physical, that there was no comparison between the two.

  But even still, she felt a burning guilt and shame at the traitorous thought that had come to her. A sob bubbled inside of her and she pushed away from Antonio, turning her back on him and focusing on the ornately painted wall. She had felt so turned on that she had actually wanted to sleep with him. This man whom she had just me
t! Who she knew nothing about! She blinked her eyes shut and brought a hand to her lips, still tingling from his persuasive kiss.

  “Elisabetta,” his voice made her blood tingle with desire, despite her disgust at what she’d just been doing.

  She shook her head without turning around.

  The first she knew that Antonio was standing behind her was when his hands came around her waist, his body pressed against her back. And though she was angry with herself for what she’d been about to do, and angry with him for how he made her feel, she relaxed back into him, and surrendered to the way it felt to have his hands pressed against her in such an intimate manner.

  “You are the most beautifully responsive woman,” he murmured against her ear, and he kissed the sensitive flesh of her neck. She moaned, low and soft, as his hands slowly ran over her stomach, and up, to cup her breasts, while his lips tasted and nipped at her exposed nape, tasting her flesh and making her almost whimper with sensation.

  She tried to remember the reasons, which were many and varied, why she shouldn’t be doing this, but her body and its wants were drowning out rational thought. She turned in the orbit of his arms, so that she was once more facing him.

  This time, she kissed him, and it was without fear or doubt. With an intensity that made him ache, she pressed against him and her whole body was alive with the need he stirred in her. Her hands slipped back into his shirt, and now, she lifted the soft wool, frantically pushing it up and over his chest, exposing his body as it had been on that first day. She tossed the shirt across the room, unaware of the crumpled mess it made on the pristine tiles.

  “Elizabeth,” his voice was thick with desire as he pulled her back against him, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger and angling it up at him. “We don’t have to rush things.”

  “I do.” She contradicted, reaching for his belt and snapping the buckle open. “I need to feel. I need to feel this, now.” She opened the clasp and yanked it quickly, slipping it out from his pants and tossing it away.

  Antonio knew passion, and he knew hunger, but Elizabeth’s desperation was borne of something else. He thought he should try to change her mind, but at that moment, she undid his jeans and knelt before him, so that she could slide them down his legs. Her face was level with his erection and he sucked in a breath as she dipped her head, to concentrate on lifting his jeans free from his legs. He stepped out of them, but she didn’t stand. Instead, she slowly slid her hands in to his boxer shorts and pulled them down, gasping a little as the visible proof of his arousal was revealed to her.

  Fascinated and hot with lust, he watched as she discarded the cotton material and looked once more at his manhood. He wasn’t shy about his body. He had always been a physical creature and his body showed his passion for athletic movement. Slowly, uncertainly, she wrapped her fingers around his length and he shivered at the way it set his body on fire.

  “Are you sure about this?” He asked once more, though his ability to think for both of them was fast evaporating.

  “Yes,” she nodded through gritted teeth, though her body was awash with nervous anticipation as she stood once more. Now, when she pressed against him, she could feel his hard warmth. She lifted her leg, though her silky pantyhose were a barrier to contact, she wrapped one leg around his back, arching herself so that he almost connected with her most intimate heart.

  “I need to feel this, Antonio.”

  “Why?” He breathed through gritted teeth, wondering why the hell he wasn’t just pushing her to the ground and taking her body with his.

  “You’ve wanted this from that first day we met. I know you have. What are you waiting for?”

  She pressed her lips against his chest, then slid her mouth over to his pec muscle. She nipped at his hair-roughened nipple with her teeth, and was satisfied to feel him stiffen beneath her. In the back of her mind, she wondered what the hell had come over her? Lady Elizabeth Sanderson was the lady least likely to be found seducing a relative stranger, and yet here she was, begging to be made love to by the sexiest man she’d ever met. And for once, she wasn’t thinking about Alastair and what she owed him, she was simply letting her own desires control her behavior.

  “Even I have the decency to respect your wishes, Elizabeth. You say you want this, but I’m not so sure.” Antonio could have kicked himself for the barriers he was erecting. After all, she was right. He had wanted her from the first moment he’d seen her.

  Elizabeth stepped back from him and for a moment, he had a stone cold fear surround his heart, as it occurred to him that she was actually going to realize he had a point. That perhaps she didn’t actually want what was happening between them to go any further.

  Then, Elizabeth lowered the straps of her dress and slid the tubular piece of fabric down her body, without dropping her gaze from his face. She saw the relief that washed across his features as she stepped out of her dress and then reached behind her back and unclipped her bra.

  “I’ve spent five years without feeling a damned thing. For whatever reason, you’re the only man who’s made me want to experience this since I lost Al. So if you don’t want to do this, then be a man and say it’s because of your feelings. Don’t tell me how I feel.”

  Chapter 5

  His eyes glinted at her words, which had fuelled his arousal and challenged him at the same time. Half naked, she was even more beautiful than he’d imagined, though out of nowhere, he felt that protective kernel of worry, at the slender slimness of her body. If she was his, really his, he would enjoy looking after her, making sure she was eating well.

  But this was just about now, this one moment, nothing more.

  And so pulled her back into his arms and scooped her up off the ground, holding her against his chest. “Oh, I want you, Lady Sanderson. But not here, like this, where Agnes or that damned dog that came with the home could walk in on us any moment.” And, uncaring of his nakedness, he carried her along the corridor and up the nearest flight of stairs. Elizabeth was aware of her heart, jack hammering furiously against her ribcage. It occurred to her that this was the craziest thing she, or anyone, had ever done, but she pushed the thought away. Sensual need had overtaken her body, and it was like a very real force that now craved fulfillment.

  At the top of the stairs, Antonio turned left, and then left again, inside a dark room. He shouldered the door shut and, without putting her back on the ground, reached behind him and flicked on a light switch.

  Elizabeth hadn’t been with a man since Alastair and though she knew she wanted to be with Antonio, her bravado from a moment earlier had all but deserted her. “Lights off?” She squeaked, feeling self-conscious against his broad, tanned chest.

  “No,” he contradicted firmly. “I want to see your face when you orgasm in my arms.” His words were so direct, and held such promise, that any thought of self-consciousness flew out of her mind. She nodded, her throat dry.

  Distractedly, she turned her head, looking around her. It was a bedroom, but probably not his, if the décor was anything to go by. The bed was large, and covered in a pale pink quilt. A vase filled with holly sat on the bedside table. It was nice enough, but impersonal.

  “A guest room,” he supplied, carrying her purposefully towards the bed. He dropped her unceremoniously in the center of the soft bed, so that her hair, still bound in the formal style, came loose around her heart shaped face.

  Antonio grunted his approval as he reached down and dug his fingers into the now-messy bun, freeing the pins that held it in place, and arranging her hair around her face. Elizabeth watched his face as he concentrated on what he was doing, completely resplendent in his nakedness, and totally, utterly all man.

  He poised himself over her, once her blonde hair was smoothed out against the bed spread, and then, because he simply couldn’t resist, he dipped his head lower, and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Her breasts were small but pleasantly round, and with his hand, he fingered the other mound, twisting her nipple be
tween his finger and thumb, all the while taking her other breast deep in his mouth and suckling at the sensitive skin.

  Her moans were low and frequent, her back arched with a need for satiation that he recognized well. Reluctantly, he removed his hand from her breast, simply so that he could tug at her pantyhose and free her completely from the restraints of clothing. He let out a groan of frustration as he realized it would require his complete attention. He quickly lifted his head and concentrated on disposing of the sheer tights and the silky red briefs she wore – very sexy, he thought quickly, as he discarded the tiny scrap of lace. And he knew she hadn’t worn them for his pleasure, that she was a woman who was confident enough in her body to want to dress in sensual lingerie, for her own pleasure, rather than a man’s.

  Naked, beneath him, she was a creature more beautiful than he had known could exist in nature. The body he had, at first, believed to be the art of a talented plastic surgeon and the wealth of someone such as Lady Elizabeth Sanderson, he now saw was completely natural. A fair patch of hair covered her entrance and lowered his hand to tease the curls at her apex, whilst returning his attention back to her breasts. But his mouth, he lowered to her stomach, licking his tongue between the valley of her breasts and lower. Tiny goose bumps appeared on her honey skin as he moved lower still, past her belly button, and then to the entrance to her core. Yes, she was going to be the most exquisite lover he’d ever shared a bed with. And though he was now impatient simply to take her, he paused, remembering he didn’t have a condom at the ready.

  He swore in his own tongue. He didn’t ever take risks with women, particularly women he’d only just met. “Stay here,” he said, then, thinking better of it, he decided a little promise of what was to come would ensure she didn’t have second thoughts. And so he smiled, slowly, while he dipped a finger inside her slick, moist core. “I need to get protection. But first…” he said, and while his finger gently, tantalizingly teased her most sensitive bud of pleasure, he brought his lips back to her breast, taking her in his mouth in the same rhythm as his finger moved inside of her. Her orgasm was swift and intense; he felt her muscles clench around his finger as she fell apart, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed.