Secret Heirs: His One Night Consequence. Кэрол Мортимер

      ‘I hadn’t thought about it like that.’ She scanned the pale silvery-pink façade, taking in every quaint architectural device, every ostentatious finish. Alessandro was right. Yet with its mellow stone bathed in morning sun it was beautiful. ‘Now you mention it, it’s rather like an ageing showgirl, a little overdone, a little too obvious. But appealing anyway.’

      A shout of laughter made her turn. Alessandro leaned back in his seat. He grinned as he met her startled gaze. That grin brought back crazy, wonderful memories. Her heart jumped then began pounding against her ribcage as heat sizzled, a long slow burn, right to her heart.

      ‘You’ve hit the nail on the head. I’d never have described it that way, but you’re absolutely right.’ His gaze met hers and a shock wave hit her at the glint of approval and pleasure in his eyes. ‘Just don’t let Livia hear you say that. It’s her pride and joy.’

      ‘Livia?’ The surge of jubilation Carys had felt in the unexpected shared moment ebbed. ‘Is your stepmother here?’

      ‘She no longer lives here. She spends her time in Milan or Rome. But you’ll see her. She’ll give you advice on what’s expected of you. Fill you in on the social background you need to know.’

      And you can’t? The thought remained unspoken.

      Of course he couldn’t. Alessandro would be too busy with business or with other interests to spare time for his new fiancée. Swiftly Carys thrust aside the idea of his ‘other interests’ and schooled her face into a calm façade.

      ‘Is that necessary?’ She met his steady look then turned away to fumble with her seat belt. ‘I’m sure she’s busy.’

       And she never liked me anyway.

      Spending time teaching the ropes to a gauche plebeian whose sense of style began and ended with chain-store bargains would be hell for Livia. And worse for Carys.

      ‘Not too busy to assist my bride.’ His cool tone reinforced what Carys already knew, that this would be a duty for the older woman, not a pleasure.

      ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Carys said through gritted teeth and turned away, only to find her door already open. A man in a butler’s uniform bowed, waiting for her to step out.

      ‘Grazie,’ she murmured, dredging up her rusty Italian.

      He smiled and bowed deeper. ‘Welcome, madam. It’s a pleasure to have you here.’

      Delight warmed her as she realised she could understand his clear, precise Italian. It had been almost two years since she’d spoken it, but she had an ear for languages. Perhaps because she’d spent so many years honing her memory and learning by heart at school. She’d discovered that was the best way to avoid revising with reams of written notes.

      Hesitantly she tried out a little more Italian as she got out of the car. She was gratified when Paulo, the butler, encouraged her faltering attempts. Soon he was telling her about the comforts of the villa awaiting her, including a lavish morning tea, and she was responding.

      Carys let him usher her from the car, only to pull up short at the sight of Alessandro waiting for her.

      He held Leo, still slumbering, in his arms. For a moment the sight of her son, flushed with sleep and hair tousled, snuggled up against the wide shoulder of his magnificent, handsome father, made her heart falter in its rhythm.

      Then Alessandro spoke, fortunately in a voice pitched only for her ears. ‘If you’ve finished practising your charm on my staff we can go in.’

      Confused, Carys met his searing dark scrutiny.

      ‘Now we’re marrying, you need to forget about winning other men’s smiles.’ His grim tone made it clear he wasn’t joking. ‘My wife needs to be above reproach.’

      ‘You think I was flirting?’ Amazement coloured her voice. She could scarcely credit it. Alessandro sounded almost…jealous.

      The idea was preposterous. But the glitter of disapproval in his eyes intrigued her.

      She imagined things. Alessandro had wanted her sexually in Melbourne only because she was convenient and shamingly willing. But that was past. Now he saw her solely as Leo’s mother. He hadn’t touched her since he’d discovered his son. Clearly he wanted her for Leo not himself.

      Carys thanked her lucky stars for that. It gave her distance. Safety. For if he ever decided to seduce her again, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to resist.

      ‘I think it’s time we went in and settled our son,’ he said, ignoring her blurted question. He breached the distance between them, consuming her personal space till she found it almost impossible to draw a steady breath. ‘You’ll be tired after the journey and you need rest before this afternoon.’

      ‘This afternoon?’ Bemused, Carys shook her head.

      ‘Livia has arranged a designer to fit you for your wedding dress.’ His lips curved up in a tight smile that could have signalled either pleasure or stoic acceptance. ‘We marry at the end of the week.’