Rebecca Winters

The Billionaires' Club


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much I love your long legs.” He turned her around so he could look into her eyes. “Do you think we’re through growing up?”

      In the dim glow of a lamp she saw a glimmer of a smile hover at the corners of his compelling mouth.

      “I don’t know. You’re still the tease I remember.”

      “And you still blush. Give me your mouth, Gemma, so I’ll know not everything has changed.”

      She put her hands against his chest with its dusting of black hair. “Please don’t kiss me again, Vincenzo. I was simply trying to find you so I could explain what I meant the other night after you followed me to the pensione to talk. Everything came out wrong. I’ll go downstairs while you finish getting dressed and meet you in the lobby, where we can have the conversation we should have had.”

      Gemma tried to pull away from him, but he held her firmly in his grasp. “The last time you came to this room, I had to let you go too soon because I was afraid you could be in danger. That’s not the case anymore, and I’ve waited too long for this moment.”

      He lowered his mouth to hers and began kissing her. A kiss here, a kiss there, then one so long and deep her legs started to give way. Vincenzo picked her up in his arms and carried her past the square hunting table in front of the fireplace to the hand-carved bed.

      The suite had been redecorated in nineteenth-century decor with every accoutrement befitting his title. But Gemma wasn’t aware of anything except this man who was kissing her senseless. No longer the eighteen-year-old she’d adored, he was a man already making her feel immortal.

      When she’d come to his bed ten years ago, he’d been suffering, in pain, and they’d had to be so careful how they kissed and held each other. Not wanting to make it worse, Gemma had had to be the one to make it easier for him to get close to her and caress her.

      Tonight that wasn’t their problem. With one kiss Vincenzo had swept her away to a different place, exciting her in ways she hadn’t thought possible. He rolled her over so he could look down at her. His hands roamed her hips and arms as if memorizing her.

      “I could eat you alive, bellissima.” He kissed every feature of her face before capturing her mouth again and again. One kiss turned into another, drowning her in desire. Vincenzo was such a gorgeous man, she couldn’t believe he was loving her like this. “I know this is what you want, too. You can’t deny it. You’re in my blood and my heart, Gemma.”

      “You’re in mine,” she cried softly. “I can’t remember a moment when you weren’t a part of me.”

      “I want you with me. It’s past time we were together.”

      She cupped his striking face in her hands. “That’s what you say now.”

      He kissed the tips of her fingers. “What kind of a comment is that? You think I’m going to change? Wouldn’t I have already done that over the years we’ve been apart? I’ve already asked you to marry me. What more proof do you need? That’s a commitment to last forever.” He plundered her mouth with another heart-stopping kiss.

      Gemma moaned. “All lovers say that. If you were a normal man, I could believe it.”

      He raised up on one elbow, tracing the outline of her lips. “You don’t think I’m normal? We’ve been apart too long. Spend the night with me and you’ll find out the truth.”

      “I don’t mean that kind of normal, and you know it.”

      “With you lying here in my arms, your lambent green eyes as alive with desire as your body, I’m in the mood to humor you. I hunger for you, Gemma.”

      “You’re not thinking clearly, Vincenzo.” She fought tears. “I can’t marry you.”

      Lines marred his arresting features. “Of course you can. A duca can do whatever he likes, choose whatever woman he wants, just like any other man.”

      “I know,” she whispered, turning her head away. Oh, how well she knew after learning the dark secrets inside the walls of the castello. His father’s and uncle’s proclivities for other women had been one of the great scandals in all Lombardi.

      He caught her chin so she had to look at him. “Let’s get something straight once and for all. I have despised the class system all my life and fought against it growing up. The idea of finding the right princess to marry in order to gain more power and money is revolting to me. Your love sustained me growing up. It means more to me than any riches or possessions.”

      She eased away from him and sat up, smoothing the hair off her forehead. “You say that now.”

      “I’ll say it now and until the end of our days together.”

      “Vincenzo—” A sob escaped. “You just don’t understand.”

      “Then help me.” He tugged on her hand so she couldn’t get off the bed. She’d never heard him sound so dark.

      “You’re the most wonderful, remarkable man I’ve ever known. But you were born with a special destiny.”

      “No. I happened to be born the son of a duca. That’s not destiny. It’s an accident of birth.”

      “Please listen. I’m going to tell you something you never knew. One time when your grandfather was out in the back courtyard in his wheelchair, I was sent out to take him a sweet. He loved Mamma’s zeppole. I gave them to him.

      “After he thanked me, I started to hurry away, but he called to me. ‘Come back here, piccola,’ he said and reached for my hand. ‘I’ve seen you with my grandson. You’ve been a good friend to him and I can tell you like him. And I know why. Can you keep a secret?’ I nodded.

      “‘There’s a reason everyone likes him. One day he’ll grow up to be the finest duca of us all. With his princess he’ll raise future duchi, who will have a wonderful father to look up to. But I’m afraid I won’t live to see it.’ He kept hold of my hand and wept.

      “Even though I was young, I realized that he was letting me know how lucky I was to be in your company. When I ran back to Mamma and told her, she said it was a sign from heaven that I should always respect my friendship with you. To think of wanting anything more would be sacrilege.”

      * * *

      “Santa Madre di Dio!” Vincenzo got off the bed, putting his hands on his hips in a totally male stance. “So that’s the reason for all this talk! Gemma—if it will ease your mind, I’ve heard your opinion on the subject before. Your mother shared her beliefs because she loves you and wants to protect you.”

      “Still, my temper sometimes gets the best of me.”

      “I remember,” he murmured. “That time you and Bianca went swimming in the lake without your clothes. You thought Dimi and I had been spying on you and had taken them. I confess we did spy with my binoculars from a tree at the edge of the forest.”

      “Vincenzo—”

      “But it turned out we weren’t the culprits. The dog of one of the guards ran off with your clothes. We chased it down and brought your things back to you, but I don’t recall you thanking us.”

      She shook her head. “We were too embarrassed to talk. That was so humiliating, you can’t imagine.”

      “You were our wood nymphs come to life. Dimi and I thought it was the most wonderful day we’d ever spent.”

      “You would!” But even across the expanse separating them he detected a half smile.

      “I’ll tell you another secret. My mother was very fond of you. But because she was a princess, she believed any feelings I had for you would come to grief. Like your mother, Mamma had also been raised in a different world of rigidity within the titled class.”

      Gemma sat on the edge of the bed. “Her words were prophetic.”

      “Not completely. Dimi and I broke