Married for the Italian's Heir Read online

  ‘Of course. It’s exactly what Dante requested.’

  ‘Dante has mentioned that you arrange marriages. Are you finding brides or inventing fiancées for Benjamin, Zayn and Xander too?’

  Piper looked at Elizabeth in the mirror and for a moment thought she saw a look of panic cross her face, but she continued to talk, unable to stop prying into things. This might be her only chance to find out what was really going on, so she continued quickly before Elizabeth changed the subject.

  ‘Each one of them, along with Dante, was named and shamed in that article as the world’s most debauched bachelors. Are they all your clients?’

  ‘This bag finishes it off perfectly.’ Elizabeth handed her a small bag the same colour as the dress and stood and looked at her, a light crease of worry showing on her forehead. ‘Benjamin and Zayn are my clients, yes.’

  ‘And is Xander going to follow their lead?’ Piper continued to press, aware that maybe Elizabeth shouldn’t be divulging such information but, she was part of this charade and had a right to know exactly what was going on. To her, this was for her child, but for Dante their marriage seemed to be about many things—except the duty of fatherhood.

  ‘So I believe.’

  ‘It does make it better, knowing it is also for a charity.’ Piper recalled the call she’d interrupted that morning, with Dante unusually speaking English. ‘I think Dante did tell you Xander would call you too.’

  ‘Then I shall await his call.’ Elizabeth ticked the last item off her list with great flourish. ‘We are finished here—but hair, make-up, manicure and pedicure are next.’

  ‘All this for one evening out?’

  ‘You are in a very different world now, Piper. One many women dream of.’

  ‘I’m not one of those women,’ she said, and the sensation of losing control of everything, including her destiny, filled her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ELIZABETH’S WORDS HAD stayed with Piper as she’d been made over in a beauty salon. Her nails had been polished and her hair curled until she didn’t recognise herself any more. Now as she stood with her hand on the doorhandle of the bedroom, ready to go out and face Dante, wearing a dress that revealed but somehow concealed her body, those words replayed again and again.

  She was in a different world. One where money bought you anything you desired—including, it seemed, a wife. It didn’t help that she wasn’t the only woman being groomed for such a role by Elizabeth for the four men in the article. She was acutely aware that she was part of a damage limitation exercise that was more far-reaching than she’d ever thought possible. Worse still, she was his choice only because she carried his child and had come to Rome at precisely the time when he needed a convenient wife.

  Piper took a deep breath and looked down at the full-length gown adorned with gold and bronze sequins, wondering if she’d ever truly come up to the standard Dante very obviously desired.

  Desired.

  That word sizzled in her mind. Last time she’d thrown caution to the wind and worn a gown that wasn’t her own she’d ended up in a hotel room with Dante, making passionate love like long-lost lovers who’d been reunited. That night any awkwardness she’d felt about being with him, about giving herself to him, had melted like ice beneath the warmth of spring sunshine as each kiss had pushed her further to the point of no return.

  But would he desire her now?

  She shook her head, the soft curls making her hair bounce in an unaccustomed way. She couldn’t let such thoughts into her mind. This was a deal, not a love affair, and she was adamant she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

  With a determined defiance she opened the door—and the sight which greeted her almost evaporated that self-made promise to ignore the man who made her tremble with just one look. She didn’t want to find Dante attractive, but standing in the doorway to his terrace, resplendent in a tuxedo, he took her right back to that night in London. He’d stood out from all the other men that evening—and not just because he’d seemed so captivated by her.

  Now he looked even more devastating, and definitely more dangerous than he had then. And he was. He was a danger to her foolish heart, which was thumping so hard in her chest. As he moved towards her his eyes grew dark and intent and swept down her body, making every limb tingle as if he’d actually touched her. And she hated herself for wanting that touch.

  ‘Mia cara, you are beautiful.’ His voice was rough with desire, and she stood beneath his appraising gaze and knew that every hour she’d spent with Elizabeth and then later in the salon had been worth it. He desired her—even if it was for tonight only.

  Right at this moment it was as if the clocks had been turned back. She felt shy, and yet as completely driven by the sizzle of attraction as she had been that night in London. Just as she had then, she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her.

  ‘I trust you are happy with all that Elizabeth has done?’ She wouldn’t let him know how nice it felt to be told she was beautiful, or how it made her remember things that could never be again. How had he made her feel so desired, so beautiful as they’d made love? Already she knew that moment of passion could never happen again. Not if she wanted to retain her emotional detachment—and her sanity.

  ‘Sì, I am very happy, and now I am about to show the beautiful woman who is to be my bride to all of Rome.’

  His voice was soft and seductive and it sent a warm tingle sliding down her spine. He took her hand lightly in his fingertips, lifted her fingers to his lips, and without breaking that mesmerising eye contact brushed his lips over them. She wanted to close her eyes as pleasure darted around her. But that would show he affected her, would let him know that he had power over her. Her only weapon in the face of his captivating charm and practised seduction was indifference. She had to remember this was all an act, even if they were not yet in public. It was part of his plan.

  ‘Maybe we should keep the act of being lovers for when we are in the company of tonight’s guests.’ She forced herself to believe those words but he paused, head bowed slightly over her hand, and raised his brows at her sharp words.

  ‘A man should be able to tell a woman she is beautiful wherever they are.’

  There was a playful glint in his eyes and a hint of a mischievous smile. He was toying with her, amusing himself, but it reminded her of his true character. He might be about to fool the rest of the world with his intention to settle down to married life and fatherhood, but she knew the truth—and she had to remember it too.

  ‘Shall we go?’ She pulled her hand slowly from his and stepped away from him, needing the space to think, to put her mind back in order. She couldn’t fall for his charm—not again. Look what had happened last time the evening had started with a simple kiss of the hand and a seductive smile.

  * * *

  Dante smiled, pleased to know that the act of indifference she’d shown him so far since arriving in Rome was just that. Underneath all that cool composure she was still the hot, sexy woman who had driven him wild with desire. The same one who had lingered in his mind ever since, leaving him with a sense of something unfinished about the whole night.

  He’d tried to tell himself it was because she’d left him without even a goodbye, slipping away before dawn, but now he suspected it was a little more than that. For the first time in many years of one-night stands and brief flings he still wanted a woman. More to the point, he wanted this woman. The need burned within him to touch her, kiss her and make her his once more.

  This insistent need had only been intensified by the attention Elizabeth had given her all day. The bronze dress, alluringly diaphanous, shimmered with bronze and gold sequins which gave the fine fabric its modesty, although it clung to her body as if it had been poured over her. The swell of her breasts which, given the backless design of the dress, had to be braless, was clearly accentuated. As was her slender waist and her hips. The sexy creation hugged her hips, then flared out, but any more detail was lost on him. All he
could do was think about her legs and how they had once wrapped around him as he’d thrust into her when he’d been the man to claim her as his—and soon she really would be.

  ‘I have a mind to take you straight back into the bedroom and remove that dress.’ He struggled to stabilise his hoarse voice and bit down hard against the rise of hot, throbbing desire which pulsed through him at the thought of doing just that. How had he thought he could keep things neutral with this woman when she’d been in his mind ever since he’d woken to find her gone?

  ‘Is it not suitable?’

  Her soft voice wavered anxiously and she brushed those sexy tousled curls back from her face. Maledizione! Did she know what she did to him?

  She was stunning, beautiful—and the mother of his child. She was now his fiancée. Less than a week ago he had been a single man, a carefree bachelor to whom marriage and commitment had been very much avoidable.

  Now he had the responsibility of his child. That thought briefly sobered his desire-infused mind, dredging up his past for inspection once more. He pushed the sabotaging thoughts aside and looked again at the beautiful woman who was to be his wife.

  ‘It has achieved all that I hoped for, cara, and I am certain that I will not be the only man to want to do just that this evening.’ His voice remained hoarse with desire, just as desire lingered in his body, not quite extinguished.

  As she frowned in confusion he crossed the room to her, unable to resist the urge to touch her, to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, his lips. Dio mio, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman—even more than he’d wanted her that first night in London.

  He saw the moment she realised his intention, saw her step back, saw the blush spread over her face and it made him want her more. He’d never been so hungry for a woman and he’d never had to control such desires. He was used to getting what he wanted, and right now he wanted this Australian redhead—badly.

  ‘No.’ That sharp, short word cracked through the sexually charged air and she stood in glorious defiance, her chin lifted, her shoulders back and those lovely green eyes sparking icy fury at him. ‘We made a deal, Dante, one that doesn’t include such things. We are not a real couple.’

  ‘Sì, cara, you are right. Mi dispiace.’ English mixed with his native Italian as he fought for control over his response to seeing her like this.

  One thing it did prove was that she was definitely unfinished business. Would the deal he’d struck with her be enough to keep him at a distance? It should be—as should the fact that he never wanted to care for anyone again, never wanted to be responsible for another person’s happiness. He was done with caring, done with losing a piece of himself when a person left, and Piper had made it clear that she intended to leave once the minimum term of their marriage had been completed, taking with her his child. No, he mustn’t allow emotions to cloud this deal.

  ‘Just as long as we understand one another.’

  Her deep and fast breathing told him she was far from unaffected by what had almost happened, even if her words were cold and to the point. She might not want to be his wife, but she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  ‘Very clearly, cara, and now we should go. I have timed our arrival to create maximum impact and so begin the talk of our engagement within the media.’

  She looked down at the ring on her finger, her curled hair sliding off her shoulder in a way that was so sensual it almost undid all the control he’d fought hard to regain. He knew what she was thinking as she looked at the symbol of their deal. The platinum band set with a single large diamond would certainly be noticed. There would be no doubt that they were engaged.

  ‘Yes, you’re right,’ she said, with a new strength sounding in her voice. ‘The sooner you achieve your aims, the sooner we can return to something resembling normal. I can go back to London and you can continue as if this never happened.’

  ‘That may not be possible for a while. It is going to be hard to prove to Bettino D’Antonio that I have reformed my ways without you at my side, but there is time later to discuss this—the car is waiting.’ The thought of her returning to London so soon unsettled him, but he wasn’t ready to explore why.

  All too soon they were ensconced in the elevator, and her perfume brought back memories of that morning at his office a few days earlier. Then he had thought his imagination was playing tricks on him when the lingering scent in the elevator had brought her so quickly to his mind. The scent was evocative of that night in London, of the passion they’d shared, and now as they got into the car it reminded him far more than he could tolerate.

  He studied her as she sat, determinedly staring forward while the car made its way through Rome’s traffic, and wondered if she too felt the zing of electricity which connected them, gaining strength each day.

  ‘Goodness,’ she gasped and looked at him, her green eyes vivid and wide. ‘So many cameras. I don’t think I can do this.’

  He took her hand and looked into the depths of green which reminded him of the forests of Italy in summer. ‘You can. I’m with you.’

  Her gaze held his and the connection between them intensified, sending off sparks around them. He had to kiss her—had to feel her lips beneath his and the soft swell of her breasts against his chest as he held her. He had to wrap his arms around her and feel her pliant body melt against his. He couldn’t resist her any longer.

  He leant closer. She didn’t pull away, didn’t move back, and her eyes darkened until they resembled the deepest ocean. She wanted him too. Despite the icy indifference she was hiding behind, she wanted him. A pulse of lust hurtled through him as she nervously moistened her lips with her tongue, the movement taking his gaze from those dark desire-filled eyes. She wanted him.

  * * *

  ‘I can’t do any of this...’ Piper whispered as Dante leant closer. He was going to kiss her. Instinctively she recognised the inky blackness which had filled his eyes, obliterating the brown completely, and she was powerless to resist. She couldn’t move—couldn’t do anything except wait to feel his lips on hers and hate herself for wanting that kiss, needing it.

  He whispered something so seductive-sounding it could only be Italian, and she closed her eyes as his lips touched hers, sending shockwaves of tingles throughout her body. Then his hands held her face, imprisoning her as he pressed a deep and scorching kiss to her lips. She sighed softly when hot desire sparked to life within her, just as it had that night in London—as if nothing had changed. She sighed again and responded, and her breathing quickened as the kiss deepened.

  What was she doing?

  ‘No.’ She pushed against him, her breath coming hard and fast. Every nerve in her body sang with awareness for him but she couldn’t let it happen again, couldn’t give in to it. ‘I can’t.’

  He smiled at her, so sure of himself, completely convinced that just one kiss would have her tumbling back into his bed. ‘You just did, cara.’

  ‘I don’t mean that.’ She adopted a dismissive tone, as if being kissed to within an inch of her sanity was a perfectly normal occurrence. ‘I mean all those photographers out there. I can’t be who you want me to be.’

  ‘You can and you will. We have a deal, no?’

  His eyes narrowed and she looked out of the window, not relishing the idea of parading around for what appeared to be nothing short of a pack of wolves in such a tight dress when her body was on fire from his kiss.

  ‘What if I get it wrong?’ She turned and looked at him to see his brows rise in question. Then he smiled and her attention was drawn to that smile, to those lips which had just kissed her into a heady state of euphoria. She couldn’t allow that again and would have to be on her guard.

  ‘Do not worry, mia cara, I will be at your side all the way.’

  That was precisely what she was worried about. But as she got out of the car and the cameras flashed Dante was true to his word and stayed at her side, the act of loving fiancé in full swing.

  She smiled sh
yly as they stood briefly for photos and Dante put his arm around her, his fingers pressing possessively into her waist as he pulled her closer, giving her no option but to lean against the length of his body. The spark of desire which had just been reawakened hummed relentlessly through her until it was almost impossible to smile at the cameras.

  If she’d thought the kiss had been potent then she’d definitely got it wrong. It was as if she was going up in flames of desire right there on the streets of Rome. His masculine and powerful musky aftershave weaved its way through her senses and the firmness of his thigh against hers brought images to her mind of them naked together.

  Then Dante spoke to the press, turning her towards the hotel as he did so, and she focused all her attention on walking the short distance in heels she was far from used to. Anything was better than focusing on the feel of his body against hers and the heady pulse of desire which beat within her.

  ‘Is it always like this?’ she asked as they entered the peace and safety of the hotel.

  ‘You will get used to it.’

  He guided her through to the function room, where tables were laid with precise attention to detail. At least that was something she was familiar with after spending so many hours setting such tables and waiting on them as the rich and famous of first Sydney and then London dined while she remained invisible. She wholeheartedly wished she could do that right now—but dressed as she was, with a man like Dante at her side and desire coursing within her, that wasn’t an option.

  ‘I’m not sure I want to.’ She was painfully aware of the curious glances and bold stares and didn’t like it at all. It played too much into her insecurities, reminding her of childhood taunts.

  ‘That sounds distinctly like you want to back out of our deal, Piper.’ He took two flutes of champagne and handed her one, but she shook her head in refusal and instantly he sent for a more suitable drink.

  ‘I’m not backing out of anything,’ she said with a smile on her lips and a sweetness in her voice that she hoped would convey her annoyance. ‘I’m going through with this deal for the right reason.’