Jacqueline Baird

Mediterranean Tycoons: Tempting & Taken


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sweater, and wickedly skin-tight jeans. With his hair falling over his brow she was vividly reminded of Gianni and the fun they had had with the motorbike, and her heart turned over with love. She looked down at herself, and a regretful sigh escaped her; nothing could hide the fact she was over six months pregnant. But she had dressed with care in black trousers and a bright red and black tunic, and she knew she looked good.

      Kelly glanced up and Gianfranco’s dark eyes met hers, and in unison they smiled. He stepped forward and crushed her in his arms, kissing her with a hungry passion that wiped all the doubt and fear from her mind.

      Over the next two days they made love often. For Kelly a kind of radiant hope began to break through the suspicion and misery of the last few weeks. Gianfranco spent most of the day closeted in his study, but his nights were all hers.

      The third night, Kelly dressed in black jersey silk harem pants, with a matching top lavishly covered in multicoloured embroidery. She looked great and felt even better. Full of confidence, she hummed a tune as she descended the stairs into the hall.

      Gianfranco always dressed first, and then went downstairs for his usual whisky and soda before dinner, but tonight he had delayed long enough to make love to her in the shower, which was the reason for her good humour.

      Olivia was standing in the hall looking her usual immaculate self in a black dress.

      ‘Hi, Olivia,’ Kelly said with a polite smile.

      ‘Smile while you have the chance—you won’t for much longer,’ Olivia sneered, and swept into the dining room in front of Kelly.

      A bit of Kelly’s renewed confidence slipped as she walked into the room.

      It slipped a lot further over dinner. The conversation was stilted, and Gianfranco sat for the most part in a brooding silence. When Kelly said anything he replied in monosyllables, and she was heartily glad when the meal was over. She made her excuses and was the first to leave the table. There was something about this house, she thought fancifully as she walked out into the gloomy hall, that reeked of dark deeds and hidden passions.

      ‘Wait, Kelly.’ Gianfranco grasped her arm. ‘Come into the study a minute; we need to talk.’

      ‘You’ve got that right,’ she said with feeling. ‘What the hell was all that about?’ she demanded, following him into the study.

      Gianfranco stopped by the desk and swung around to face her. He looked at Kelly, with her blonde hair falling smooth as silk to her shoulders and her blue eyes fixed on him, looking as innocent as sin! He wanted her as he had never wanted any other woman, but she had to realise as his wife she had certain standards to maintain. He was a very busy man, with an estate and a financial empire to run. He expected his home life to proceed like clockwork, and he didn’t have time to oversee it himself. He should have had this conversation with Kelly weeks ago, but in the time they spent together she knocked every sensible thought out of his head and all he could think of was making love to her. She drove him crazy, probably always would, but it was time he laid down some ground rules.

      ‘So talk,’ Kelly said, glancing across at her husband, looking magnificently male and moody. ‘I don’t know why you’re being so brooding.’ She gave a little laugh.

      His eyes narrowed, not a glimmer of a smile softening his saturnine features. ‘Kelly, as my wife you have a certain position to uphold in the community, and there are certain things that are not acceptable.’

      Her smooth brow pleated in a frown; he had to be joking. ‘Like picking my nose?’ she joked, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. But she failed…

      IGNORING her attempt at humour, Gianfranco said, ‘It has been brought to my attention that in my absence you were seen in the village on your own in the local bar.’

      ‘So? I was tired and I stopped for a glass of lemonade.’ She didn’t see his point.

      ‘Kelly, that is not suitable behaviour for my wife, nor is speeding around the countryside in a car with one of the servants. Could you imagine my mother or Olivia ever doing such a thing? They were horrified when they found out,’ he told her, a grim smile parting his firm lips. ‘I can’t be here all the time, and when I am away I would be obliged if you would try and listen to their advice. Olivia assures me she did try to tell you what was expected of the lady of the house, and warned you more than once about your behaviour. You ignored her.’

      His comment was like a red rag to a bull. Now she knew what Olivia had meant earlier about wiping the smile off her face. ‘That is amazing, considering your mother wasn’t here almost the whole time you were away. As for Olivia, apart from calling me a tramp the first night you left, she shot off to Rome the next day. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Anna I wouldn’t have spoken to a soul until your mother came back the day before you.’

      He folded his arms across his broad chest. ‘Rubbish.’ His disdainful smile had been replaced by a stern, fixed stare. ‘I told them to look after you.’

      Kelly stared at him. ‘You arrogant, conceited, pompous oaf!’ she said, her hands on her hips. ‘If you could hear yourself.’ She shook her head, her blonde hair flying around her face. ‘You sound like you’re lecturing a child.’

      ‘Not a child, Kelly, but you.’ He gave her a cold smile. ‘And you do have a tendency to act as a child.’

      ‘Sorry,’ she shot back sarcastically, ‘but you have the tendency to act like God.’

      His hands fell to his sides and he leant back against the desk and stuffed them in his pockets. ‘And you have a tendency to, I wouldn’t say lie, exactly, but exaggerate,’ he drawled cynically. ‘I called you every day and you never once mentioned you were alone. Odd, wouldn’t you say?’ One dark brow arched sardonically.

      She looked at him; he was standing with his hands in his pockets, tightening the fine wool of his trousers across his thighs. He was a virile, sexy man and she loved him, but she did not have to listen to this.

      ‘Nowhere near as odd as having a husband who does not believe a word I say,’ she opined bitterly, and, spinning on her heel, she left, with tears blinding her eyes. She’d had such hopes for their reunion, but nothing had changed.

      Midnight and Kelly was lying wide-awake in bed, tensely waiting for Gianfranco. She heard the sound of the shower running, then silence. The bedroom door opened and closed. Dry mouthed, her stomach swirling with a mixture of desire and dismay, Kelly watched him through the thick screen of her lashes as he walked towards the bed. He was so splendidly male; his naked olive-skinned body gleamed in the rays of moonlight shining through the window. He was a wonderful lover, but however much she tried to ignore the fact she knew in her heart it was no longer enough. A marriage needed more than sex—like sharing each other’s hopes, and fears, trust. She opened her mouth to say as much when he slipped into bed beside her, only to have it covered with a tender kiss.

      ‘Sorry, Kelly.’ He gathered her in his arms. ‘Mamma told me you were right; forgive me.’ Quickly divesting her of her nightgown, he gathered her gently in his arms.

      Held close against his naked length, she sighed and forgave him. He made love to her with an aching tenderness that brought tears to her eyes. It was only afterwards that doubt reared its ugly head again. Gianfranco believed his mother, believed Olivia, but his wife was another matter entirely. And the thought hurt so much that sleep was a long time coming.

      ‘Buon giorno, cara.’

      Kelly’s eyes fluttered open. Gianfranco was standing by the bed, wearing a grey three-piece suit. He looked exactly what he was, an incredibly handsome, dynamic businessman, but more importantly her husband, and she stretched and smiled up at him.

      ‘Sorry to wake you, sweetheart, but I am leaving shortly for Rome. It looks as if I will probably have to stay a night or two, and I couldn’t leave without kissing my wife goodbye.’