himself. Which of course he had done, becoming a billionaire businessman in under ten years. He had his godfather to thank for his success. But more than that, he had him to thank for his life.
Now he squeezed Alfonso’s hand. ‘You know you mean the world to me, padrino.’
‘I do indeed, mio figlio. Which is why you are going to accept this one piece of advice.’ His voice quavered. ‘Build a family for yourself, Vieri, a wife and children. Don’t live an empty life like mine.’
‘You have not led an empty life, Alfonso! How can you even say that?’
‘It has been empty in here.’ He punched at his bony chest with a frail fist. ‘Inside, where it matters. I had to deliberately end my family line but you, you have the chance to start one. Don’t you see, Vieri, by being an orphan, by having no background, you have a blank canvas? You are free from the shackles that restrained me. Make the most of that opportunity.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying it is time to alter the course of your life. Don’t put it off any longer. Take this opportunity to marry your lovely fiancée and settle down.’
‘Alfonso, I—’
‘Set a date, Vieri.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘For the wedding, set a date. And don’t make it too far away. If I am to stand any chance of seeing you two walk down the aisle it will need to be within the next month.’
HARPER SURVEYED HERSELF in the full-length mirror. She had to admit that awful Sorrentino woman had chosen the most beautiful dress, even though she would never have picked it for herself. Not in a thousand years.
Made of shimmering satin, it had a slim-fitting bodice, ingeniously styled so that the two straps only went over one shoulder leaving a tantalising sliver of cleavage in between and a wide expanse of bare back behind. Slightly ruched around the hips and bottom, it hugged her tightly, giving her a sexy shape she hadn’t even known she had, before it fell in soft folds to the floor. But it was the colour that was the most shocking of all. Red. Bright red. Harper was quite sure that someone of her colouring should never wear red and yet here she was wearing it, and looking pretty darned hot—even if she did say so herself.
She turned, twisting to get a better view of the back, so intent on her own reflection that she failed to notice Vieri standing in the doorway of her dressing room.
‘Molto bella.’ His deep, sultry voice spun her around and she reached out a hand to steady herself against the dresser. As he slowly advanced towards her, her grip tightened against the polished wood. ‘You have made a good choice.’
‘Thank you.’ His unexpected compliment went to her head like a glass of champagne. She was just about to blurt out that she hadn’t actually chosen it herself but remembered Donatella’s strict instructions that she wasn’t to mention her input, or indeed that she had met her at all. Harper had wondered if it was because she had no intention of going to visit Alfonso, that maybe this was just a flying visit. Harper gathered she now lived in Milan. ‘You look pretty smart yourself.’
Smart was a massive understatement. He looked completely, heart-stoppingly, drop-dead gorgeous. Wearing a tuxedo and a white dress shirt with a black bow tie, he was the epitome of suave, elegant handsomeness, as if he had been created solely for the purpose of showing how it should be done. Long limbs were effortlessly encased in the fine fabric, giving him an easy, cat-like grace. He was clean shaven, Harper noticed, his usual designer stubble missing, and his hair was still wet from the shower, pushed back from his forehead so that the thick dark curls were temporarily tamed. He smelled divine too, his subtle aftershave invading her senses now that he was so close. Too close. Way too close.
‘Are you wearing your hair down?’ Harper’s breath stuttered to a halt as he reached forward to move her hair to one side, exposing the sweep of her neck. ‘I think the dress would suit an upstyle, don’t you, maybe with some suitable earrings to set it off?’
‘Maybe.’ Harper pursed her lips. ‘But I don’t happen to have any suitable earrings.’ What did he think, that she had a selection of diamond jewellery that she could dip into for any occasion?
‘I wish I’d thought of that before.’ Vieri’s intense dark blue gaze seared into her. ‘I would have bought you some.’
‘Well, it doesn’t matter.’ With a small shake of her head, Harper dislodged his hand so that she could start to breathe again. By taking her caustic comment and turning it around with his offer to buy her jewellery he had disarmed her. More than that, something about the intensity of his stare was doing alarming things to her insides. She wasn’t used to being the focus of such close attention, to have someone looking at her, really looking at her, almost as if they cared. She quickly brushed the silly notion away. ‘I’ll put my hair up anyway.’
Briskly sweeping past him, she fled for the sanctuary of her bedroom where her make-up bag held a few grips and an assortment of hair bands. ‘Do you want to wait for me down in the lobby?’
‘That’s okay. I’m fine here.’
Harper’s heart plummeted. He might be fine there, decorously lounging about in her dressing room, but she felt anything but fine, as a quick glimpse in the mirror brutally revealed.
She looked different somehow, as if some sort of banned substance had entered her bloodstream, changing her features. It took her a second to work out what the peculiar look was, and when she did she wished she hadn’t. Because it was arousal. Her cheeks were lightly flushed and her hazel eyes had darkened to a sultry amber glow as the devastating effect of his lethal attraction continued to pump in her veins.
This evening was going to be awful. However was she going to be able to stand beside Vieri, trying to be the elegant and sophisticated fiancée, when the merest touch of his breath on her neck did this to her?
Staring at the emerald ring on her finger, she fought the temptation to pull the wretched thing off and hurl it across the room. What good would that do? She had signed up to this deal—she had to see it through.
Picking up her hairbrush, she started to tug it forcefully through her curls, giving herself a stern talking-to with each vicious stroke. Then, capturing the thick swathe of hair, she twisted it into a knot on the top of her head and, with a mouth full of hair grips, set about securing the stray tendrils as best she could. Then, setting her features in what she hoped was a suitably bland expression, she went back through to the dressing room.
Vieri, who had been sprawled in a chair, one long leg casually draped over the arm, rose to meet her. His blue eyes raked all over her but he made no comment as she brushed past him to retrieve the shoe box from the dresser, self-consciously lifting out the silver shoes and quickly slipping them onto her feet as if there were nothing remotely unusual about her wearing a pair of sparkly stilettos with a price tag that had made her eyes water, in much the same way as she suspected the shoes themselves would by the end of the night. Throwing a cashmere wrap around her shoulders, she then picked up the silver clutch bag and, drawing in a breath, turned to face Vieri again.
He came towards her, his right arm crooked as he waited for her to slide her arm through it. Nestled so closely beside him, Harper felt her pulse set off at a gallop.
‘Sei pronto, you are ready?’
Harper nodded, although she felt anything but. She gathered the wrap closer to her in a vain attempt to ward off his nearness.
‘Then let’s go.’
As they moved towards the doorway Harper felt the wobble in her step. And it wasn’t just the four-inch heels.
* * *
The Winter Ball was a magnificently glittering affair held in a stunning, floodlit medieval castle not far from Palermo. The guests