The Moretti Heir / Billionaire Extraordinaire: The Moretti Heir / Billionaire Extraordinaire

“Why didn’t your father like cars?” she asked. She knew that Giovanni Moretti was rumored to have been too easygoing to run the big automotive company. That he wasn’t interested in business…only in making love to his wife.

“He liked them, he just loved my mother more. So business didn’t hold his interest.”

“Yet, it does hold yours,” she said.

“Tonight I can see why my father was distracted,” Marco said.

She thought she saw surprise in his eyes as he revealed that, but he recovered quickly, leaning in close to kiss her. His kiss was soft and slow, one of seduction rather than full-out passion.

He swept his hand down the side of her body, unerringly finding the zipper in the side of her dress. Instead of unfastening it, he simply traced his finger over the seam.

His mouth moved along her jawline with small, nibbling kisses, then dipped lower to caress the length of her neck. She shifted in his arms, trying to bring her body into full contact with his as he continued to tease her.

Her breasts felt sensitive and the skin of her arm beaded with goose bumps as he continued to move his hand over her body. She wanted more.

Marco had always had an innate gift for seducing women. Dom had suggested it was because he was Italian and wooing women had been bred into him, but Marco thought it was more than that. He’d never been callous in his seductions and he’d walked away from women who he knew would regret having made love to him when they woke in the morning.

But he couldn’t walk away from Virginia. He surprised himself with the depth of the need he had for her. Still, if he made this about the physical, then his emotions would recede and she would be nothing more than a passionate memory for him to look back on, years from now.

The rich darkness of her hair contrasted with the creamy whiteness of her skin. He drew down the zipper at the side of her body and watched as the sky-blue material gaped open. He slipped his hand under the fabric and touched her skin.

Her breath caught and she shifted in his arms, turning on her side so they were now facing each other. He reached between them and drew her hands up to the first button on his shirt.

Staring into her wide, chocolate-colored eyes, he saw the shyness that was so much a part of her melt away as her fingers brushed against his chest.

Blood rushed through his veins, pooling in his groin and hardening him as she started unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers were cool against his skin as she worked her way down his body. When she finished unbuttoning the shirt she pushed it open and he shrugged out of it.

He growled when she leaned forward to brush kisses against his chest. Her lips were soft and not shy as she explored his torso, and he felt the edge of her teeth graze his pecs.

He watched her, his eyes narrowing and his pants feeling damned uncomfortable. Her tongue darted out and brushed his nipple. He canted his hips forward and put his hand on the back of her head, urging her to stay where she was.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, one finger tracing over the scar under his left nipple.

“Tony pushed me out of the fig tree in the backyard when I was eight and I landed on a hoe that the gardener had left lying on the ground.”

“Did it hurt?” she asked. She braced one hand on his chest as she leaned over him.

He shifted under her and lifted her in his arms so that she straddled him. He leaned up and kissed her lips. “At the time it hurt very much.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning down to lave the spot with her tongue. “I have a scar, too.”

“Where?” he asked.

She blushed and then shrugged her shoulders, pulling her right arm out of the dress. The bodice loosened and the other sleeve slid down her left arm until the dress pooled at her waist. She wore those strapless bra cups that were clear in color. He could see all of her breasts and yet as he reached up to touch them, he felt only fabric and not the sweetness of her flesh.

“The scar isn’t on my boobs,” she said, with a little laugh.

“No?”

“No,” she said. “It’s here.”

She pointed to her right side an inch below her breasts. It was long, almost two inches, and had faded with time.

“How did you get this?” he asked, stroking a finger down the length of it. She shivered in his arms and rocked against him. His erection twitched against her core.

“Trying to climb into the window of our house. My mom locked the keys inside.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. He lifted his hips to tip her body toward him. He found the scar with his lips and rubbed his hands over her naked back, enjoying the feel of this warm woman in his arms.

She put her hands on his shoulders and eased her way down his chest. She traced the muscles of his abdomen and then slowly made her way lower. He could feel his heartbeat in his erection and he knew he was going to lose control if he didn’t slow things down.

But another part of him wanted to just sit back and let her have her way with him. When she reached the edge of his pants, she stopped and glanced up his body to his face.

Her hand brushed over his straining length. He removed the bra she still wore and then lifted her up so that her nipples brushed his chest.

“Hmm…that feels so good,” she said.

“Does it?”

“Yes.”

Blood roared in his ears. He was so hard, so full right now that he needed to be inside of her body. But he had to take care of details first.

“Cara mia, I hate to ask this, but are you on the pill?”

She pulled back for a second. “I’m…yes.”

“You are taking the pill?” he asked.

She nodded. “And I don’t have anything else you need to worry about. What about you?”

“I’m clean.”

“Good,” she said.

He pulled her closer and kissed her until she relaxed. Then, impatient with the fabric of her dress, he shoved it up to her waist. He caressed her creamy thighs. God, she was soft. She moaned as he neared her center and then sighed when he brushed his fingertips across the crotch of her panties.

The lace was warm and wet. He slipped one finger under the material and hesitated for a second, looking up into her eyes.

They were heavy-lidded. She bit down on her lower lip and he felt the minute movements of her hips as she tried to move his touch where she needed it.

He pushed the fabric of her panties aside and lightly traced the opening of her body. She was so ready for him. It was only the fact that he wanted to bring her to climax at least once before he entered her body that enabled him to keep his own needs in check.

She shifted against him and he entered her body with just the tip of one finger. He teased them both with a few short thrusts.

“Marco…” she said, her voice breathless and airy.

“Yes, mi’ angela?”

“I need more.”

“Is this better?” he asked, pushing his finger deep inside of her.

“Yes,” she said. Her hips rocked against his finger for a few strokes before she once again needed more.

“Marco, please.”

He pulled his finger from her body and traced it around her pulsing center of her need. Her eyes widened and she moved frantically against him. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his cheek as she braced her hands on the back of the lounge chair.

He turned his head and drew one beaded nipple into his mouth, suckling her deeply as he plunged two fingers into her body. He kept his thumb on her center and worked his fingers until she threw her head back and called his name.

He felt her tighten around his fingers. She kept rocking against him for a few more seconds and then collapsed.

He tipped her head toward his so he could taste her mouth. He told himself to take it slowly, that Virginia wasn’t used to him. But one taste of her lips and he was out of control.

He kissed her and held her at his mercy, caressing her back and spine, scraping his nails down the line of her back down the indentation above her buttocks.

She closed her eyes and held her breath as he returned his fingers to one nipple. It was velvety compared to the satin smoothness of her breast. He brushed his finger back and forth until she bit her lower lip and shifted on his lap.

She moaned, a sweet sound that nearly did him in. He reached between them and unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. She cried out softly as he brushed the tip against her humid center.

She reached between them and touched him, her small hand engulfing the length as she shifted to put the tip inside her body.

He held her still with a hand on the small of her back. He had a lap full of woman, and he wanted Virginia more than he’d wanted any woman in a long time. Maintaining control was harder than it had ever been. Dangerous. He knew better than to let this mean anything more than a passionate encounter.

This was about the physical. One night together.

She rocked her hips, trying to take him deeper, and he knew the time for teasing was at an end.

“Marco?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to take me?” she asked.

“Do you want more?” he asked.

She leaned down and sucked his lower lip into her mouth, biting gently. “You know I do.”

“Beg me to take you, mi’ angela bella.”

“Take me, Marco. Make me yours.”

He did want to make her his, in this moment with the night sky around them, the Southern Cross shining in the sky, he was away from Italy and the curse that had dogged the Moretti men for too long.

He was going to claim Virginia as his…even if only for this one night.

He gave her another inch, thrusting his hips up into her sweet, tight body. Her eyes were closed, her hips moving subtly against him, and when he blew on her nipples he saw gooseflesh spread down her body.

He loved the way she reacted to his mouth on her. He sucked on the skin at the base of her neck as he thrust all the way home, sheathing his entire length in her body. He knew he was leaving a mark with his mouth and that pleased him. He wanted her to remember this moment and what they had done when she was alone later.

He kept kissing and rubbing, pinching her nipples until her hands clenched in his hair and she rocked her hips harder against him. He lifted his hips, thrusting up against her.

“Come with me,” he whispered to her in Italian.

She nodded and he realized she understood his native tongue. Her eyes widened with each inch he gave her. She clutched at his hips, holding him to her, eyes half-closed and her head tipped back.

He caught one of her nipples in his teeth, scraping very gently. She started to tighten around him. Her hips moving faster, demanding more, but he kept the pace slow, steady, building the pleasure between them.

He varied his thrusts, finding a rhythm that would draw out the tension at the base of his spine. Something that would make his time in her body, wrapped in her silky limbs, seem to last forever.

“Hold on to me tightly.”

She did as he asked and he rolled them over so that she was beneath him. He pushed her legs up against her body so that he could thrust deeper, so that she was open and vulnerable to him.

“Now, Virginia,” he said.

She nodded and he felt her body tighten. Then she scraped her nails down his back, clutching his buttocks and drawing him in. Blood roared in his ears as he felt everything in his world center on this one woman.

He called her name as he came. He saw her eyes widen and felt the minute contractions of her body around his as she was consumed by her orgasm.

He rotated his hips against her until she stopped rocking against him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed the underside of his chin.

“Oh, Marco,” she said. “Thank you for making love to me.”

“You’re very welcome, Virginia.”

She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. “I never thought it would be like this.”

“Like what?”

“So incredible. Being with you is just…well, I had no idea it would be so raw and intense.”

He laughed. “That’s because you hadn’t made love with me before.”

She tipped her head back and in her eyes he saw a vulnerability that he didn’t understand.

“I think you are right.”

Marco stretched and rolled over as the morning sunlight spread across the floor of his bedroom. The pillow next to his was rumpled and the sheets still smelled faintly of sex and Virginia’s perfume.

“Cara mia?”

There was no answer as he stood up and stretched. There was a glass of juice on his nightstand. He smiled as he reached for it. Maybe Virginia was making breakfast for them.

He walked slowly through his penthouse. All of Melbourne was spread out before him, and he thought for a moment about his life and the fact that he seemed to have it all. He wondered about the curse of Nonno’s that had doomed their family. He’d never put too much stock in it, preferring to believe that he had control over his own destiny, but Dom had loved and lost badly, so perhaps there was something to the Moretti curse.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. Why was he thinking about that damned curse this morning?

He didn’t want to admit it was because he liked Virginia. He was tempted to postpone his travel plans today. Stay in Melbourne with her as long as he could before commitments would demand he leave.

And that was the true measure of why she really did need to leave. He’d find her, eat whatever it was she’d fixed for him and then send her on her way.

“Virginia?”

Still no answer. The kitchen was empty. Maybe she was on the balcony. He remembered that last night she’d really enjoyed being outside. He stopped in his office, noticing that the papers on his desk were askew, as if someone had riffled through them. Knowing how important it was to keep the Moretti Motors secrets, Marco started to grow concerned. Had Virginia been in his penthouse just to find out what Moretti Motors was doing?

Hell, now he was getting paranoid like Dom. She hadn’t asked a single question about the company and hadn’t really seemed interested in it.

He finally got to the balcony and it was empty, as well. He realized she was gone. He knew it wasn’t hard to leave. The keypad at the elevator only prevented people from entering.

Marco clenched his fists, angry that Virginia had left before he’d had a chance to…hell, he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. He’d thought about changing his entire day for her, and she was gone.

Four

The race in Barcelona, Spain, wasn’t any different from the two previous races for Marco. He did press conferences, attended Moretti Motors functions and as far as his brothers and his teammate Keke were concerned, he was the same ambitious winning driver he’d always been.

But inside Marco seethed. At first, when he’d discovered he was alone in Melbourne, he’d been concerned about Virginia, worried that their night of passion had overwhelmed her. But as time had gone on he’d realized that she’d been after just that one night with him.

He also realized that she didn’t want to be found. And that shouldn’t have been a big deal. He was aware that if she’d stayed, he would have hustled her out of the penthouse and then gone on with his life. He wasn’t looking to settle down. He had made a promise to his brothers that he wouldn’t break, and he had no time in his life for romantic complications.

So why, then, was he still so angry when he thought about the way she’d left him?

“Marco?”

“Sì?”

“We have to meet with the officials in a few minutes…are you okay?” Keke asked.

“Fine. Just going through the race in my head.”

“Are you free for dinner tonight? Elena’s family is in town and we’re going out with them.”

Keke and Elena were getting more serious with each month that passed, and he appreciated his friend always including him, but Marco was starting to feel like a third wheel with them.

“My parents are coming to the race, so I’m going to spend the evening with them.”

“You can invite them, as well.”

“What’s up? Don’t you want to be alone with Elena’s parents?”

Keke flushed. “It’s not that. I’m going to ask her to marry me and I would like to have you there. I don’t have any real family, you know?”

Marco understood. “I’d be honored to join you. In fact, Dom has reserved a restaurant for our evening so that we would have privacy…would you like to use that location?”

“I made reservations at Stella Luna,” Keke said.

“Then we will join you there. What time?”

“Nine.”

Marco looked at the German, wondering what this would mean for their friendship. He knew no matter how much a man wanted his relationships to remain intact, once a man got married, his life changed. “Congratulations, amico mio.”

“Thanks. I…if she says yes, will you be my best man?”

“She will say yes, and I will be your best man.”

Keke left a few minutes later and Marco called his parents and brothers to invite them to join Keke’s dinner celebration.

Marco had a moment’s pause, as he always did when he thought of marriage. The plan that he and Dom and Tony had concocted when they were young boys meant that they’d probably never marry for love. And he envied his friend that relationship.

He left the garage and found a group of fans waiting for autographs. He stopped, smiled for photos and signed hats and shirts, all the while scanning the crowd for Virginia’s face. He was a sap and an idiot to keep looking for her. She was gone. And he needed to move past that one night in Melbourne.

But he couldn’t. She was the one who left. A part of him acknowledged that it was wounded pride that made him want to see her again. Another part, the baser part, wanted to see her again for purely sexual reasons. He wanted to take her and enslave her with the passion that ran between them. Bind her to him and then when she was well and truly his…leave her so that she could experience what he’d been going through.

He was lucky his racing hadn’t suffered, but at this point in his career he knew how to shut out everything except the race when he got behind the wheel.

“Marco, wait up,” Dom called as he walked across the field toward him.

“What is it?”

“I got your message about tonight and I’ll try to be there. But I may not be available.”

“Is something going on?”

“I think we have a spy in our company. I might have to return to Milan to take care of the matter.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed. The ruffled papers on my desk…“Why do you think that?”

“I ran into Dirk Buchard today in the owner’s lounge, and he mentioned rumors of a new car design from ESP,” Dom said.

ESP Motors had been formed by Nonno’s archrival on the Grand Prix track. Moretti Motors had outshone ESP at the time. One thing that had been in Lorenzo’s favor was the fact that he had the Midas touch when it came to business. “What about the design?”

“I might be paranoid—”

Marco snorted. His brother wrote the book on paranoid when it came to guarding business secrets. “Might be?”

“Whatever. But he mentioned something that is on the new Vallerio model. And no one outside of you, me, Antonio and our R & D team has seen that.”

“You don’t have to stay for the race if you want to go back to Milan and do some more research,” Marco said.

“I want to. I think you race better when Tony and I are here.”

“I agree. I like to remind you both that I’m faster than either of you can ever hope to be.”

Dom punched him in the arm. “Speed isn’t the only thing that matters.”

“In our world it is.”

“True enough. Speaking of speed, did you get the e-mail I sent about the new marketing campaign?”

“Yes. I like it. I think it’ll be just what we need to launch the new Vallerio.”

“I agree.”

Marco thought for a moment. “Is it possible that someone could have figured out what we were doing by studying the cars? I’m using similar technology in my race car this season.”

“I’ll know more after I go back to the Milan office.”

Marco looked at his brother and thought of how hard they’d all worked to distance themselves from the fiasco that had been Moretti Motors under his father’s management. At times like this, Marco felt like no matter what they did, they were always going to be struggling.

The only times he didn’t feel that way were when he was on the track…and when he’d slept with Virginia. That night, he’d realized he could find peace in a woman’s arms.

Virginia landed in Barcelona on Saturday morning. Last week, when her period had started, she’d had a genuine excuse to return to Marco. Clearly their one night of passion hadn’t born fruit. She had been happy, because she’d missed Marco. And she knew that was a problem. What if her actions just perpetuated the curse on both families?

The truth was, she didn’t care. Every night she’d been away from Marco, she’d dreamed of him, rich and vivid images of the two of them together.

And not just making love.

She’d had strong visions of her and Marco with children dancing around them.

She collected her luggage and found the car she’d hired to take her to the hotel. She wished her grandmother was still alive so she could ask her about the curse she’d put on Lorenzo.

But she had no one. There had been a bit of sadness laced in the knowledge that she wasn’t pregnant. For the first time, she understood why her mother had been so happy to have her. A child meant the end to the loneliness that seemed to haunt each generation of Festa women.

She meant to end that loneliness.

“Welcome to Barcelona,” the liveried doorman at the Duquesa de Cardona Hotel said.

She’d chosen a luxury boutique hotel in the heart of Barcelona’s Gothic district. She smiled at the doorman as she exited the cab and walked into the hotel. It was odd to be traveling so much, yet at the same time, she felt like she was finally alive.

All those solitary years of staying at home on Long Island, going to school as a child and young woman and then teaching—it had been a life of nothing but routines; and now she had a mission. Something to fill her days. She felt alive for the very first time.

She had no idea how to contact Marco and knew she’d have to spend the day by herself until the race tomorrow. She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to get close enough to see him and had no idea what she’d say to him when she did get there.

She checked into her room and changed her clothes. She thought about hanging out in her room, but she didn’t like the thought of waiting around for Sunday.

She knew that changing her life this year was about more than breaking the curse. She needed to find a way to be the woman she’d always dreamed of being. If she was going to be a mother, she didn’t want to be like her own mother had been, that solitary figure who rarely smiled and never left their small house. She needed to get out and experience life.

She went to the F1 track and watched the practice session, making sure to stay out of Marco’s sight, but getting as close as she could to him.

He looked thinner than he had been in Melbourne, but he smiled for his fans and signed autographs. She started to approach, but there was no way to get through the throng of people. And then Marco waved to the crowd and turned away.

She watched him until he disappeared into the garage area, and then she left the track. In her year of figuring out how to get close to Marco, she’d gone online to the F1 message boards and made friends with a lot of people. Using those contacts, she’d been able to get into the exclusive parties after the racing events. Even the VIP areas.

She took a cab to the Picasso Museum, because the thought of going back to her hotel room was unbearable. She strolled through the museum and lingered in front of a Picasso painting titled The Embrace, which the artist had completed in 1900. It struck Virginia how little couples had changed over time. Nothing was more soothing than standing together wrapped in each other’s arms.