was also where they’d been married, before Simona’s birth. Italy was their second home now, and they retreated there as much as possible.
Zac said now, with faux gravity, ‘Quite frankly, I’m less interested in idle gossip and far more interested in seeing how quickly I can get you out of that dress, Mrs Valenti.’
Rose slipped her arms around his waist, pressing so close that he could feel the thrust of her breasts against this side. Lust shot through his system with predictable force, making his body respond.
‘Witch…’ he growled, and she smiled, well aware of her effect on him.
He pulled her around in front of him, as much to disguise his body’s reaction as to torture her a little too.
He smiled when he saw her cheeks flush and her eyes dilate. ‘What do you say to going somewhere a little less…stuffy?’
She smiled. ‘I say yes.’
And then they both became aware of a moment of déjà vu at the same time—recalling that first night when he’d said those same words,
Rose said more huskily, ‘Take me home, Zac.’
So he did.
They went home to their new Greenwich Village townhouse and, after sending their nanny home, checked on their peacefully sleeping baby daughter, legs and arms spread wide in abandon.
Zac stood looking down at her for a long time. It scared him sometimes, recognising how easily his life might have remained an arid wasteland, only feeling a desire for retribution for his parents and wanting to accumulate more wealth and power. He’d arrogantly assumed when he’d walked away from his family that he had it all figured out, when in fact he’d really been no better off.
It had taken meeting Rose and falling in love to show him the true meaning of wealth. And now his daughter had compounded that a thousandfold.
Rose’s hand slipped into his and he looked at her, too overcome to say anything for a moment. She smiled, and he could see everything he was feeling mirrored in those green eyes.
‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘Me, too.’
And then she started backing out of the room, pulling him with her, with a knowing and very feminine smile on her face as they made their way to their bedroom.
And in that private space Zac let her take him apart—because he knew that she was the only one who could put him back together again. For ever.
Secret Heirs: Billionaire’s Pleasure
Secrets of a Billionaire’s Mistress
Sharon Kendrick
Engaged for Her Enemy’s Heir
Kate Hewitt
The Virgin’s Shock Baby
Heidi Rice
Secrets of a Billionaire’s Mistress
Sharon Kendrick
Waitress…
Neither tall, willowy nor sophisticated, waitress Darcy Denton knew she wasn’t Renzo Sabatini’s usual type. But enthralled by the powerful magnate, unworldly Darcy became addicted to their passionate nights together.
Mistress…
Ensconced in Renzo’s secluded Tuscan villa, Darcy glimpses Renzo’s troubled past and desolate soul. She should end it before she gets in too deep, but then she discovers she’s pregnant!
Wife?
Harboring her own childhood secrets, Darcy dare not tell Renzo, but as the mother of his child it’s only a matter of time—nine months, to be exact—before he claims what’s his…
For three fabulous writers who helped with the
Australian detail in my 100th book,
ARoyal Vow of Convenience.
Helene Young & Margareta Young for the
inspiration and the insight - and Rachael Johns,
for the Tim-Tams!
RENZO SABATINI WAS unbuttoning his shirt when the doorbell rang. He felt the beat of expectation. The familiar tug of heat to his groin. He was half-tempted to pull the shirt from his shoulders so Darcy could slide her fingers over his skin, closely followed by those inventive lips of hers. The soft lick of her tongue could help him forget what lay ahead. He thought about Tuscany and the closing of a chapter. About the way some memories could still be raw even when so many years had passed and maybe that was why he never really stopped to think about them.
But why concentrate on darkness when Darcy was all sunshine and light? And why rush at sex when they had the whole night ahead—a smorgasbord of sensuality which he could enjoy at his leisure with his latest and most unexpected lover? A woman who demanded nothing other than that he satisfy her—something which was easy since he had only to touch her pale skin to grow so hard that it hurt. His mouth dried. Four months in and he was as bewitched by her as he had been from the start.
In many ways he was astonished it had continued this long when their two worlds were so different. She was not his usual type of woman and he was very definitely not her type of man. He was into clean lines and minimalism, while Darcy was all voluptuous curves and lingerie which could barely contain her abundant flesh. His mouth curved into a hard smile. In reality it should never have lasted beyond one night but her tight body had been difficult to walk away from. It still was.
The doorbell rang again and the glance he shot at his wristwatch was touched with irritation. Was she daring to be impatient when she wasn’t supposed to be here for another half hour? Surely she knew the rules by now…that she was expected to fit around his schedule, rather than the other way round?
Barefooted, he walked through the spacious rooms of his Belgravia apartment, pulling open the front door to see Darcy Denton standing there—small of stature and impossible to ignore—her magnificent curls misted with rain and tugged back into a ponytail so that only the bright red colour was on show. She wore a light raincoat, tightly belted to emphasise her tiny waist, but underneath she was still in her waitress’s uniform because she lived on the other side of London, an area Renzo had never visited—and he was perfectly content for it to stay that way. They’d established very quickly that if she went home after her shift to change, it wasted several hours—even if he sent his car to collect her. And Renzo was a busy man with an architectural practice which spanned several continents. His time was too precious to waste, which was why she always came straight from work with her overnight bag—though that was a largely unnecessary detail since she was rarely anything other than naked when she was with him.
He stared down into her green eyes, which glittered like emeralds in porcelain-pale skin and, as always, his blood began to fizz with expectation and lust. ‘You’re early,’ he observed softly. ‘Did you time your visit especially because you knew I’d be undressing?’
Darcy answered him with a tight smile as he opened