About the Authors

SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition by describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, and her books feature often stubborn but always to-die-for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life…

CHANTELLE SHAW lives on the Kent coast and thinks up her stories while walking on the beach. She has been married for over thirty years and has six children. Her love affair with reading and writing Mills & Boon stories began as a teenager, and her first book was published in 2006. She likes strong-willed, slightly unusual characters. Chantelle also loves gardening, walking and wine!

Also by Sharon Kendrick

A Royal Vow of Convenience

Secrets of a Billionaire’s Mistress

The Sheikh’s Bought Wife

The Pregnant Kavakos Bride

The Italian’s Christmas Secret

Bound to the Sicilian’s Bed

Crowned for the Sheikh’s Baby

The Greek’s Bought Bride

The Italian’s Christmas Housekeeper

The Sheikh’s Secret Baby

His Contract Christmas Bride

The Legendary Argentinian Billionaires miniseries

Bought Bride for the Argentinian

The Argentinian’s Baby of Scandal

Also by Chantelle Shaw

Acquired by Her Greek Boss

Hired for Romano’s Pleasure

Wed for His Secret Heir

The Virgin’s Sicilian Protector

Reunited by a Shock Pregnancy

Wed for the Spaniard’s Redemption

The Howard Sisters miniseries

Sheikh’s Forbidden Conquest

A Bride Worth Millions

Bought by the Brazilian miniseries

Mistress of His Revenge

Master of Her Innocence

The Saunderson Legacy miniseries

The Secret He Must Claim

The Throne He Must Take

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Cinderella in the Sicilian’s World

Sharon Kendrick

Proof of Their Forbidden Night

Chantelle Shaw

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90013-7

CINDERELLA IN THE SICILIAN’S WORLD & PROOF OF THEIR FORBIDDEN NIGHT

Cinderella in the Sicilian’s World © 2020 Sharon Kendrick Proof of Their Forbidden Night © 2020 Chantelle Shaw

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Note to Readers

This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:

 Change of font size and line height

 Change of background and font colours

 Change of font

 Change justification

 Text to speech

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Cinderella in the Sicilian’s World

Back Cover Text

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

Proof of Their Forbidden Night

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

Cinderella in the Sicilian’s World

Sharon Kendrick

Transformed by his tantalizing touch...

A single look from Salvatore Di Luca. That’s all it took for virgin Lina’s life to change—forever. For one night, she escaped from her ordinary, suffocating life...and found freedom in the Sicilian’s arms!

It defies every rule Salvatore has set himself, but he just can’t resist enchanting Lina. Still, he refuses to let her into his fiercely guarded world. Until he finds their impulsive encounter cost Lina everything... He may never trust her, but if Lina is staying in his luxurious mansion, it will be in his bed!

For my father, Donald Llewelyn Wirdnam, one of life’s truly contented people, whose favourite toast will never be forgotten (and neither will he).

‘Here’s to my wife’s husband!’

PROLOGUE

SALVATORE DI LUCA stared out at the bright blue Sicilian sea and felt his heart twist with something he had spent years trying to avoid. With pain. With regret. And with a bitter awareness that he had never really loved this beautiful island as much as he should have done. But how could he love it when it was bound up with so many bitter memories of the past? A past he had tried many times to escape, sometimes with more success than others.

Because wherever he went, he always took the past with him.

On this island he had possessed nothing and had known hunger. Real hunger. His clothes had been ragged and—when he hadn’t been running through the streets barefoot—his shoes second-hand. It had been a long time since he’d known hunger like that. A long time since he’d wanted for anything. These days he had everything which had once been his heart’s desire. There were properties around the world in addition to his San Franciscan home—a vineyard in Tuscany, a castle in Spain, and, up until very recently, a pied-à-terre in Paris. He had planes and cars and an Icelandic river in which to fish, whenever the whim took him. His property business had long been in the ascendancy and these days he channelled his profits into his charitable foundation, which reached out to children the world over. Dispossessed children. Children who had never been loved. Children just like him.

And there were women. Plenty of those. Beautiful, sophisticated, elegant women. He dated lawyers and bankers. Heiresses and scientists. He was highly sought after as a partner—his skill as a lover, his quick mind and vast personal wealth made sure of that. The only thing he couldn’t provide was love, because that had been removed from his heart a long time ago and that was what inevitably proved to be the death-knell on any relationship, for women craved love even when they had been warned it was never going to be on the cards.

In theory, he should have been perfectly content. Didn’t his friends—and his enemies—think he’d forged for himself the perfect life? And didn’t he allow them to carry on believing that? But occasionally he became aware of an aching emptiness deep at the very core of him, rumbling away in the background, like an incipient thunderstorm on the dark horizon. Sometimes he didn’t think that ache would ever leave him and sometimes he told himself it was better that way.

Because the memories which provoked that pain made him certain of what he did want, but equally important—what he didn’t. And if that knowledge had turned him into someone who was perceived as cold and unfeeling, then so be it. Let people think what they wanted.

It was time to embrace his freedom and drink a toast to it.

Turning away from the blinding glare of the ocean, Salvatore lifted his hand, and summoned over the waiter who had been hovering within his eyeline for the last half-hour.

The funeral was over and the inevitable introspection which followed such an event was also over. It was time to move on.

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHAT THE HELL do you think you’re doing, Nicolina?’

The words sounded sharp. Sharp as the tip of a needle or the sting of a bee. Lina’s throat tightened as she pulled the thin cotton blouse over her head and turned to meet the accusing gaze of the woman who had just entered her bedroom. Not for the first time, she wished her mother would knock before she came barging in, but she guessed that would be like wishing for the stars.

‘I thought I’d go for a drive,’ she said, winding a scrunchie around her thick hair, even though trying to get her black curls to obey her was a daily battle.

‘Dressed like that?’

The word was delivered viciously and Lina wondered what had caused this reaction, because no way could her outfit have offended her mother’s overdeveloped sense of decency. ‘Like what?’ she questioned, genuinely confused.

Her mother’s look of contempt was moving from the modest shirt, down to the perfectly decent pair of handmade denim culottes, which Lina had run up on her old sewing machine only last week, from some leftover fabric she’d managed to find lying around the workshop. According to the pages of one of the online fashion journals, which she devoured whenever she got the chance, they could have done with being at least five inches shorter, but what would have been the point in showing too much flesh? Why make unnecessary waves and have to listen to a constant background noise of criticism, when she spent most of her time trying to block it out?

‘You are supposed to be in mourning!’

Lina felt the urge to protest that the elderly man who had recently died was someone she’d never even met and whose funeral she had only attended because that was what people did in this tiny Sicilian village where she’d lived all her life. But she resisted the desire to say so because she didn’t want a row. Not when she was feeling so flat and so vulnerable, for reasons she didn’t dare analyse.

‘The funeral is over, Mama,’ she said quietly. ‘And even the chief mourner has left.’ For hadn’t Salvatore di Luca—the billionaire godson of the recently deceased—purred away in his car that very morning, leaving Lina staring glumly as the shiny limousine retreated down the mountainside, knowing she would never see him again? And wondering why that should bother her so much.

You know why. Because whenever he looked at you he made you feel alive. Because that was his skill. His special ability. To make women melt whenever he flicked that hooded blue gaze over them.

His occasional visits to her village had been something to look forward to. Like Christmas, or birthdays. Something shining bright in the future, which she would never see again. And somehow that left her feeling like a balloon which had just been popped.

‘Salvatore di Luca!’ Her mother’s voice broke into her thoughts as she spat out his name, with even more contempt than she had displayed towards Lina’s outfit. ‘In the old days he would have stayed for at least a week to pay his respects to the community. But I suppose his fame and fortune are more important than the Sicilian roots he has turned his back on in favour of his new and fancy American life!’

Lina didn’t agree with her mother’s condemnation but there was little point in arguing. Because her mother was always right, wasn’t she? Early widowhood had given her the moral high ground, as well as an increasing bitterness towards the world in general as the years passed by. And with that bitterness had come a highly sophisticated ability to create a feeling of guilt in her only child. To make her feel as if she were somehow responsible for her mother’s woes. And wasn’t that state of affairs becoming increasingly intolerable? Picking up her helmet, Lina made a passable attempt at a smile though she met no answering smile in response. ‘There’s been a lot going on, Mama. I just...need a break.’

‘Oh, that I were twenty-eight years old again! When I was your age I never used to complain about tiredness. I was too busy running this business almost single-handed. You are too young to be taking a break. When I was your age I never stopped,’ her mother mocked. ‘And there’s work for you here.’

Of course there was. There was always work for her here. Lina toiled from dawn to dusk in the family’s small dressmaking business, running up cheap skirts and dresses which would later be sold on one of the island’s many markets, with barely a word of thanks from the woman who had birthed her. But she didn’t really expect any, if the truth be known. Obedience had been drummed into her for as long as she could remember—even before her father had died so young, leaving her to bear the full brunt of her mother’s ire. And Lina had accepted what fate had bequeathed her because that was what village girls like her had always done. They worked hard, they obeyed their parents and behaved respectably and one day they married and produced a family of their own—and so the whole cycle was repeated.

But Lina had never married. She’d not even come close—and not because there hadn’t been the opportunity. She’d caused outrage and consternation in the village by rejecting the couple of suitors who had called for her, with their wilting bunches of flowers and sly eyes, which had strayed lecherously to the over-abundant thrust of her breasts. She had decided she would prefer to be on her own than to sacrifice herself to the unimaginable prospect of sharing a bed with either of those two men. It was a black mark against her of course. For an only child, a failure to produce a clutch of grandchildren would not easily be forgiven. And although Lina didn’t regret either of those two decisions, it sometimes left her with the feeling that she had somehow burnt her boats. That she would remain here for the rest of her days and that this was to be her future.

As her mother slammed her way out of the bedroom, Lina was aware that nothing had really changed in her life since yesterday’s funeral, yet she was aware that something had changed inside her. It had been a busy time—especially for the womenfolk, who had been preparing all the food which had been consumed by the mourners. They had buried Paolo Cardinelli with all the honour and ceremony with which Sicily traditionally regarded the deceased. But now it was over and life went on and Lina had been struck by the realisation that time was stretching out in front of her like an uninspiring road. Suddenly she felt trapped by the towering walls of oppression and expectation and her mother’s endless demands.

And she needed to escape.

She didn’t really have a plan. Her best friend lived in a neighbouring mountain village and often they would meet for a coffee. But their friendship had taken a hit since Rosa’s recent marriage and travelling solo to one of the fancier seaside resorts at the foot of the mountain wouldn’t usually have been on Lina’s agenda. Yet today she felt like breaking a few of her own self-imposed rules. Scrabbling at the back of the wardrobe to locate some of the money she’d stashed away from her ridiculously small wages, she found herself itching for a different experience. For something new.

Pausing only to stuff her swimsuit in the back of her rucksack, she wheeled out her little scooter and accelerated away from the village, the dust from the dry streets billowing up in clouds around her. Past the last straggle of houses on the edge of the village she negotiated the winding bends, and a sudden unexpected sense of freedom lifted her spirits as she sped downwards towards the coast. She could smell the sea before she saw it—a wide ribbon of cobalt glittering brightly in the afternoon sunshine and it smelt delicious.

Breathing in the salty air, she drove towards a beach famous for its natural beauty. It was the kind of place where people spent vast amounts of money to lie beneath fringed umbrellas and have iced drinks brought to them on trays. The kind of place she would usually have dismissed as being too grand and too fancy for someone like her. But today? Her heart pumped as she parked her bike close to the seafront bar. Today she felt different. She felt almost fatalistic.

Lina walked towards the open-air bar, acutely aware of how much she stood out from the rich tourists with their glitzy beach outfits and gold jewellery, but since she would never see any of these people again—did it really matter? She would perch on one of those tall bar stools and enjoy an icy sharp granita and afterwards drive off to her favourite secluded cove and have a swim. Pulling off her helmet and tucking it beneath her arm, she was shaking out her long hair as she picked her way along the sand-covered decking towards the beach bar.

And that was when she saw him.

Her knees went weak and something powerful unfurled low in her belly as she stared at the man who was sitting in the shade of the awning, effortlessly dominating the space around him, and Lina could feel the sudden racing of her heart as her gaze drank him in. Because it was him.

Him.

What were the chances?

Salvatore di Luca was perched on one of the tall bar stools, staring at his cell phone, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was attracting the gaze of every person in the place, though surely he must have been used to it by now. Hadn’t the eyes of every villager been fixed on him from the moment he’d stepped from his chauffeur-driven car onto Caltarina’s dusty main street for his godfather’s funeral? Hadn’t women—of every age—surreptitiously patted their hair and pulled their shoulders back, as if unconsciously longing for him to gaze with admiration on their breasts?

And hadn’t Lina been one of them? Struck dumb by his potent presence. By his thick dark hair and bright blue eyes.

He was still wearing the required black funeral attire—an exquisitely cut suit, as her professional eye had noted earlier, which emphasised the innate strength rippling through his muscular frame. His only concession to the powerful heat had been to remove his jacket and tie and undo the top two buttons of his shirt, but he still stood out from the carelessly dressed holidaymakers like a forbidding dark cloud which had moved dangerously close to the glare of the sun.

Lina hesitated as she glanced down at the grains of sand which were clinging to her well-worn trainers, uncertain whether to introduce herself and say something, because surely that would be the right thing to do in the circumstances. To tell him she was very sorry about his godfather. Though what if he just looked through her blankly? He certainly wouldn’t have noticed her back in Caltarina—he had been too busy dealing with the attentions of the village elders who had surrounded him from the moment he’d arrived. And since he didn’t come from around here, he didn’t really know anyone by name. Yes, she had sometimes seen him from a distance when he had paid one of his unannounced visits, but she’d never actually spoken to him. Like her, most people in the village had simply gazed at him in wonder, as you might gaze on some bright star if it had tumbled down from the night sky.

Should she go up and offer him her condolences, or leave the poor man in peace? She almost smiled at the wildly inaccurate track of her thoughts because poor was the last word you’d ever use to describe a man like Salvatore di Luca. Even living in a village which sometimes felt like the land time had forgotten, none of Caltarina’s inhabitants could have failed to be aware of the fortune and wealth of the powerful tycoon.

She decided it was best to slip away unnoticed, but he chose just that moment to slide the cell phone into his jacket and to lift his head. His eyes narrowed and then refocussed and he appeared to be staring. At her. Lina blinked, half tempted to turn around to see if there was someone else he might have recognised standing behind her. Someone as rich and as beautiful as him. But no, his gaze was definitely on her. It was piercing through her like a bright sword and Lina felt momentarily disconcerted by his arresting beauty. Because...those eyes! Those incredible blue eyes, which were rumoured to be a throwback to the days when Greek warriors had conquered the jewelled island of Sicily. Hadn’t she overheard women whispering about their astonishing hue, not long after the coffin had been lowered deep into the hard, unforgiving soil? Talking about a man so avidly at such a time was perhaps a little disrespectful, but in a way Lina couldn’t blame them. Because wasn’t Salvatore di Luca the embodiment of everything it meant to be virile and masculine, and who wouldn’t be tempted to comment on something like that?

And now...

She blinked.

Now he was beckoning her over with an imperious curl of his finger as if he wanted her to join him and Lina froze with indecision and hope.

Surely there had to be some sort of mistake. Maybe he’d got her muddled up with someone else. Maybe he didn’t mean her at all. And yet she found herself praying he did. That she could go over there and join him and for one afternoon forget she was Lina Vitale, the poor dressmaker who lived in a forgotten mountain village. The woman who seemed to observe life from a distance as it swiftly passed her by...

Salvatore narrowed his eyes as he stared at the dark-haired beauty with the windswept hair, pleased to have a diversion from the disturbing cycle of his thoughts. He recognised her, of course. Even though she’d been one of a multitude of women wearing black, she had the kind of curves which nature had designed to imprint onto a man’s memory, as well as the softest pair of lips he had ever seen, and naturally a man would register those facts, almost as a matter of course.

He wondered if she had followed him here. It happened. In fact, it happened a lot. He was pursued frequently and without shame, and while some men might have chosen to capitalise on the potential for such easy seduction, Salvatore wasn’t one of them. Given a preference, he preferred to be the hunter—though these days, most women seemed oblivious to that simple fact.

The Sicilian woman who stood on the other side of the bar was worlds away from the type of woman he usually dated, yet, despite this, Salvatore’s gaze flickered over her with interest. She certainly looked out of place in this chic bar with her commonplace outfit and a dusty motorbike helmet, which was tucked beneath her arm. But the dark curls which bounced down her back were lustrous and glossy and her denim culottes emphasised the undulating swell of her generous hips. And her breasts were luscious, their firm swell emphasising her innate femininity.

He felt an unmistakable prickle of interest. Hers was one of those old-fashioned figures he rarely encountered in his busy transatlantic life, or at home in San Francisco, where he was surrounded by wafer-thin socialites, whose main aim in life seemed to be to maintain an abnormally low body weight. He wondered whether to offer to buy her a drink. Surely it would be bad manners to ignore her—particularly as she had done him the courtesy of paying her respects to his godfather. Lifting his finger, he beckoned her over and, after a moment of hesitation he wasn’t expecting, she walked slowly towards him, a faint flush of colour highlighting her sculpted cheekbones as he rose to his feet to greet her.

‘Signor di Luca,’ she said, when at last she reached him, her obvious nerves making her words trip over themselves. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. I... I saw you at your godfather’s funeral.’

He had to bend his head to hear her properly, for her voice was soft and melodic and her faltering words rang with such genuine condolence that Salvatore felt a wave of unexpected emotion washing over him. It wasn’t the first time this had happened since he’d learned that his godfather had died, but it was hard for him to get his head around, because he was a man who didn’t do emotion. He was someone who prided himself on his detachment and had told himself repeatedly that the old man had been given a happy release from his earthly bonds.

For although he owed a deep sense of gratitude to the man whose generosity had allowed him to spread his wings and leave his native land, he had never loved him. He had never loved anyone since his mother’s callous and brutal rejection.

So why had his eyes prickled with tears and his heart contracted with pain when he had been taken to view the cold and silent body of his godfather? Why had he felt as if something had ended without him quite knowing what it was?

‘And I’m very sorry for your loss,’ the curvy brunette was saying, biting her voluptuous bottom lip rather nervously.

‘Grazie. He is at peace now after a long illness, and for that I give thanks.’ Salvatore watched as she chewed her bottom lip again and as he found himself increasingly fixated on that dark, rosy cushion an idea occurred to him, which he was finding impossible to shift. ‘You are meeting someone?’ he probed softly.

She shook her head. ‘No. No, I’m all alone. I came on a whim,’ she answered and then shrugged rather apologetically, as if aware of having given more information than he’d asked for.

‘Then you will join me for a drink?’ he questioned, inclining his head towards the vacant stool next to him. ‘Or perhaps you disapprove of the fact that I am sitting in the sunshine, listening to the sound of the sea at such a time, when my godfather was buried only yesterday and now lies deep beneath the soil?’

Again, she shook her head and her thick black curls shimmered in the light sea breeze. ‘I make no such judgment,’ she said, placing her helmet on the bar and wriggling onto the bar stool he was holding out for her. ‘In the village you must have noticed people chattering even while they carried the coffin towards the cemetery. It is always like that. Life goes on,’ she continued, with a quiet rush of confidence. ‘Such is the way of the world.’

She sounded both old and wise as she spoke, as if she were repeating the words of her elders, and Salvatore’s eyes narrowed as he tried to guess her age because that was a safer bet than focussing on her delicious bottom. Late-twenties, he thought. Possibly more.

‘In many ways, my godfather’s death was a blessed release,’ he said, staring into dark-lashed eyes which were the colour of the old and expensive bourbon he’d first encountered when he’d arrived in America, so young and so very angry. And something in those eyes made him confide in her about the old man’s final years. ‘You are aware that he lay in a coma this past decade?’ he questioned. ‘Not seeing, not speaking and possibly not hearing anything which went on around him?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, I do. One of my friends was one of the many carers you employed to look after him, Signor di Luca. We thought it was wonderful you didn’t move him out of the village into some big institution in the city. Particularly as you are a stranger to these parts. And of course, everyone knows that you visited regularly, which couldn’t have been easy for a man as busy as you must be.’ She hesitated. ‘You are very kind.’

Salvatore tensed, briefly startled by her words because this wasn’t a character assessment he was used to. Unsolicited praise wasn’t something which came his way very often, unless from women cooing over his prowess in bed. Yes, he was often applauded for his business acumen and ability to be ahead of the curve. And, yes, he was a significant philanthropist. But to be commended for his personal kindness? That really was a one-off. As he looked at her sweet face he felt the stir of something unrecognisable deep in his heart. Something which did not sit easily with him. Was it the realisation that, suddenly, he really was all alone in the world? Even though his godfather had not been sentient for over ten years, he was his last and only link with his past.

Salvatore shook his head, as if he could dislodge the dark thoughts which were stubbornly refusing to shift. He needed a distraction, he decided, and here was one sitting next to him in the shape of this local beauty. But would it be wise to pursue such a diversion? He examined his motives for wanting her to stay. He didn’t want to seduce her. Hell, no. Not only was she most definitely not his type, she probably had a fistful of vengeful brothers and uncles who would demand he married her if he went within touching distance!

But the thought of spending a couple of uncomplicated hours in her company and letting her naïve chatter wash over him was suddenly appealing. Besides, wasn’t there something a little careworn about her features? As if she had been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. A moment of unfamiliar compassion spiralled up inside him as he came to a rapid conclusion.

‘Do you have to rush away?’

Lina narrowed her eyes, wondering if she’d heard him correctly but also wondering what had caused that intense look of pain to have crossed his face. Was he thinking about his godfather, or had it been something else? She reflected how strange life could be sometimes. When here was a man who appeared to have everything, yet for a moment back then his expression had seemed almost...haunted.

He was waiting for an answer to his question and she knew exactly what she should say. Thank him politely but decline. Walk away from the bar and the faint sense of edginess he exuded, while reminding herself that she and this man had nothing in common. Some bone-deep instinct warned her he could be dangerous—and who in their right mind would willingly embrace danger? But vying with that certainty was something stronger. Something which was telling her to do the very opposite. Hadn’t she driven away from the village today precisely because she wanted to experience something different—and wasn’t this her opportunity to do just that?

Up this close, his proximity was making her body react in a way which was shocking yet delicious. Her nipples had begun to tighten beneath her handmade blouse—and now a low curl of heat was pulsing somewhere deep inside her and setting her blood on fire. Was this what it was all about? she wondered as she felt her lips grow dry. Was this what all her friends chattered about—a desire which had always eluded her up until now?

‘No, I don’t have to rush away.’

‘Then will you have a glass of wine with me?’ A flicker of humour danced in the azure depths of his eyes. ‘Are you old enough to drink?’

He was flattering her, she knew that. But Lina shook her head. She didn’t want wine. She wanted as clear a head as possible. ‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘It’s much too hot. I’d like a granita, please.’

‘A granita,’ he repeated thoughtfully. ‘I haven’t had one of those in years.’

He ordered two and the granitas were delivered in chunky little glasses clouded with condensation and it wasn’t until after they had drunk for a moment, in silence, that the Sicilian tycoon turned to her again.

‘Do you realise you have me at a complete disadvantage?’ he observed slowly. ‘You seem to know exactly who I am, while I have no idea what your name is.’

She took another sip before replying and the sweet-sharp taste of the lemons was icy against her lips. And wasn’t it bizarre that her senses suddenly seemed raw, so that the granita tasted better than any granita she’d ever had, and the glittering sea had never appeared bluer than it did right now?

‘It’s Nicolina Vitale,’ she said. ‘But my friends call me Lina.’

There was a heartbeat of a pause. ‘And what would you like me to call you?’

His question hung on the air—as fragile as a bubble. An innocent question which suddenly didn’t feel innocent at all because the smokiness in his eyes was making her want to tremble, despite the heat of the day. Lina was a stranger to flirting, mainly because she’d never met anyone she’d wanted to flirt with, but suddenly she was finding it easy. As easy as the smile she slanted him, as if she mixed with handsome billionaires every day of the week.

‘You can call me Lina,’ she said huskily.

His blue eyes hardened with something she didn’t recognise, but it was gone so quickly that she didn’t have time to analyse it.

‘So are you going to stay here for a while, Lina Vitale?’ he was enquiring softly. ‘Are you going to throw caution to the wind and have lunch with me?’

Lina was aware of a sudden rush of colour to her cheeks as briefly she wondered what her friend Rosa would say if she could see her now. She wouldn’t be teasing her about being a cold fish, would she? And those two spurned suitors would have been forced to retract their cruel comments about her being uptight and frigid.

‘Why not?’ she said shyly, and gave him a breathless smile.

CHAPTER TWO

THE AFTERNOON SUN was low in the sky and people were beginning to make their way back to the sunbeds now that the fierce heat of midday had subsided. Against the ocean’s glitter, Lina could see women on loungers reapplying suncream and thought how cool and composed they all looked.

Unlike her. It was hot down here on the sand and her body was reacting to it in a way which wasn’t particularly attractive. Sweat was beading her forehead beneath her thick curls and her clothes were sticking to her skin. She shifted a little in her seat, still unable to believe she was having lunch with a world-famous tycoon.

She wondered if she’d outstayed her welcome. Probably. Though since she had no experience of this kind of affair, it was impossible to know. But surely someone like Salvatore di Luca must have grown bored with the conversational limitations of a village girl by now. Maybe it was time she gave him an exit route.

Pushing her plate away, she glanced up into his arresting face and, once again, her heart gave a powerful punch of pleasure. ‘I guess it’s time I was going.’

‘You don’t say that with any degree of conviction,’ he observed, an unfathomable expression darkening his ruggedly handsome face. ‘And you’ve barely touched your lunch.’

This much was true. Lina felt a rush of guilt as she stared at her plate. She was fond of her food and had been brought up never to waste anything and certainly not a meal as expensive as this. But she’d barely been able to swallow a morsel. The food had tasted like sawdust and her throat had felt tight with a tension she couldn’t seem to shift. Because beneath the fierce light of Salvatore’s potent charisma, she could feel her senses unfurling. As if the cautious and inexperienced Lina Vitale was blossoming into someone she didn’t recognise, dazzled by the attentions of a man who was little more than a handsome stranger.

He had commandeered a shaded table which sat on the edge of the sea, where, after a little persuasion, she had removed her socks and trainers so that her bare toes could wriggle luxuriously in the sand. Then she’d sat back in her chair watching the crystal blue waters lapping against the crushed silver shore, as armies of waiters rushed over to serve them. It was the most luxurious thing which had happened in her twenty-eight years and Lina found herself savouring every moment. Terrified of doing the wrong thing, she’d watched Salvatore closely throughout the meal to make sure she didn’t let herself down. But he had surprised her. He hadn’t behaved remotely how she thought a billionaire would behave. He hadn’t ordered lobster or scallops or any of the fancier items which adorned the menu. Instead, he had rolled up the sleeves of his white silk shirt and devoured his meal as hungrily as any labourer and Lina had been surprised at his very traditional choice of tomato sauce, fried aubergine and ricotta cheese.

‘I didn’t notice it on the menu,’ she said.

‘That’s because it isn’t. But they always make it for me when I come here.’

‘Was it something your mother used to cook?’ she guessed.

As far as she was aware, it was the only awkward part of the meal for his face suddenly grew cold. Cold as the ice bobbing around in her glass of sparkling water. Suddenly his voice sounded like stone. ‘No,’ he clipped out. ‘My mother wasn’t into cooking.’

She found herself wishing she could take the words back and attempted to lighten the mood by asking other questions, more questions about his life, and he filled in some of the gaps which village gossip had been unable to provide. He told her that he’d been a humble waiter in America when he had overheard his boss complaining how difficult it was to transfer money internationally. At the time, Salvatore had been doing a course on digital technology at night school and this one remark had inspired him to invent an amazingly simple phone app which solved just that problem. He’d made a fortune in the process.

‘Just like that?’ Lina asked, wide-eyed.

‘Just like that,’ he agreed.

‘And then what did you do?’

He then went on to explain that he had diversified, buying up property and department stores and a small airplane company which chartered rich passengers between the different Caribbean islands. And when he’d made more money than any man could spend in a hundred lifetimes, he poured his funds into a charitable foundation for children, set up in his name.

But he seemed more interested in talking about her, though Lina couldn’t quite shake off the feeling that he was regarding her with the interest one might display towards an unusual exhibit at the zoo. Maybe he saw her as some kind of relic as she chattered away about the family dressmaking business. Like some sort of curiosity.

She remembered his stand-out incredulous question.

‘So you’ve never even been abroad?’

‘I almost did once,’ she replied, a little defensively. ‘Last year, I was supposed to go to Florida for my cousin’s wedding and I was going to spend a little time working out there, but...’

‘But?’ he probed.

‘My mother got ill and said she’d rather I didn’t go, so I didn’t.’

‘Let me guess—she got better straight away?’

‘She did, yes. How did you know that?’

He had given a bitter laugh. ‘Human nature. Otherwise known as manipulation. You don’t need to be a genius to work it out.’

But now the empty coffee cups and scatter of amaretti crumbs on the table indicated that the meal was well and truly over and Lina was aware that she really ought to make a move.

‘I’d better go,’ she said again.

‘You sound as if you don’t want to go anywhere,’ he observed, lifting his fingers in a careless gesture, which instantly had a waiter scurrying towards them with the bill. ‘Is there something special you need to be back for?’

Lina couldn’t help the feeling of dread which fluttered inside her stomach as she reached beneath the table to retrieve her trainers and wondered what he’d say if he knew what she was really going home to. Not the pared-down and slightly amusing version of village life with which she’d regaled him, but her mother’s sour face and incessant demands. Cheap denim and cotton stacked into high piles, waiting for her to turn them into skirts and shirts and knock-off designer dresses. The endless hours alone with her whirring sewing machine and then those long and desperately lonely evenings which followed—the silence broken only by the constant chiming of the church bells. Suddenly it all seemed so empty—and more than a little bit sad. Was that what made her look into his eyes with a sudden rush of resolve, which was accompanied by an unfamiliar sense of defiance?

‘Not really, no,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to get back in time for dinner, of course.’

‘Of course.’ There was the merest flicker of a pause as he deposited a wad of notes on top of the bill and his blue eyes were shuttered when he glanced up at her again. He slid his wallet back into his jacket pocket. ‘Well, then. What would you have been doing this afternoon if you hadn’t bumped into me?’

Lina thought about it. She would have driven to her favourite hidden cove, hoping that nobody else would be there. And, after swimming until she was cool and pleasantly tired, she would be attempting to brush the stubborn sand from her body and performing a few clumsy acrobatics as she tried to modestly remove her swimsuit from behind a towel. ‘I was planning on going swimming,’ she said.

He looked across at the rows of loungers which were laid in neat lines. ‘Swimming?’ he repeated. ‘You mean here?’

Lina followed his gaze, noting that the occupants of the loungers wore bikinis which were little more than a series of flimsy triangles, which someone as curvy as her would never be able to get away with. She thought about the swimsuit she’d stuffed at the bottom of her rucksack. Imagine the reaction if she took to this exclusive beach wearing that! She’d probably be frogmarched straight off for committing a crime against fashion!

‘No, not here,’ she said quickly. ‘This beach is private. Only guests of the hotel are allowed to use it.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ he said, with the cool confidence of a man for whom no door was ever closed. ‘Nobody’s going to stop you from swimming.’

Not while you’re with me, went the unspoken subtext but Lina still shook her head. ‘No, honestly,’ she said quickly, unable to keep the sudden panic from her voice. ‘Forget I ever said it. I don’t... I don’t really want to swim here, if it’s all the same with you.’

He gave her a considered look. ‘Well, what about a swim at my villa, if you don’t want an audience?’

Lina’s throat thickened with an emotion she didn’t recognise. Just as she didn’t recognise the sudden hopeful squeak of her voice. ‘You mean you’re staying here? In Sicily?’

He shrugged. ‘Only tonight. My plane will take me back to San Francisco tomorrow.’

‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘It’s no trouble. My car is outside.’

‘So is my scooter.’

‘So why don’t I get my chauffeur to ride your bike for you, and I can drive you to my villa myself? You can have a swim and leave when you like.’

‘Won’t your chauffeur mind driving my scooter?’

‘He isn’t paid to mind,’ he drawled arrogantly. ‘He’s paid very handsomely to do exactly what I tell him to do.’

Salvatore watched as she worried her bottom lip again, a gesture which left her mouth looking so unbelievably kissable that he wondered if it was done for precisely that effect. He was used to instant acquiescence—especially from women—but Lina Vitale kept him waiting for an answer and the novelty of that was more than a little exciting.

‘Okay,’ she said eventually, pushing a thick handful of hair back from her face. ‘Why not?’

Why not? Salvatore frowned. She obviously didn’t realise that he wasn’t usually given to handing out invitations to waifs and strays and that a little gratitude might have been welcome. He pushed back his chair. He couldn’t work her out. Not only that—but he still hadn’t quite worked out his own motives for inviting her. Was he intending to seduce her? To peel off those over-long denim shorts and the almost puritanical cotton shirt to see what voluptuous delights lay beneath?

His mouth hardened. No. He had never been into one-night stands and even if he were he certainly wouldn’t choose a woman from a tiny mountain village who would probably read too much into it. He was being kind, that was all. Hadn’t she praised him for such kindness earlier?

So stop being such a cynical bastard and make the poor woman’s day.

‘Come on, then. Let’s go,’ he said abruptly, rising to his feet and causing a woman on a nearby table to completely miss her mouth as she prepared to take a drink of wine.

As Lina had suspected, Salvatore’s chauffeur looked distinctly unimpressed at being presented with her helmet and told to drive her scooter. But he didn’t protest. His bulky body dwarfed the small fifty cc machine, but by then Salvatore was opening the passenger door of the limousine and Lina was climbing inside. And, oh, it was gorgeous. It smelt of leather and wealth, and the powerful engine made less noise than her hairdryer as Salvatore drove along familiar roads before turning onto a hidden track on the opposite side of the mountain.

And this, Lina quickly realised, was a completely different world from the one she usually inhabited. A quietly wealthy part of the island, where rich tourists parted with huge amounts of money in order to be able to live the Sicilian dream—or rather, their version of that dream. But it was difficult to concentrate on the scenic beauty of these new surroundings. Difficult to look anywhere other than at the powerful thrust of Salvatore’s thighs.

‘Comfortable?’ he questioned obliquely.

‘Very,’ she lied.

The shades he had donned made him seem even more sexy and inaccessible than before. Because he is inaccessible, she reminded herself fiercely. He’s a hunky billionaire who’s got a whole different life on the other side of the world. But none of those thoughts seemed to have any effect on her escalating excitement. It didn’t stop her breasts from hardening, or lessen the imperceptible tension which seemed to be building between them within the confined space of the car. Soon, it had reached such a pitch that Lina felt as if she’d forgotten how to breathe normally, and as a pair of ornate iron gates swung silently open she reached into her rucksack and surreptitiously turned off her phone, determined that nobody was going to disturb this day, least of all her mother. Because this was a one-off. She knew that. She wasn’t going to entertain any unrealistic expectations or try to second-guess what was about to happen, she was simply going to enjoy every second of it.

‘Madonna mia!’ she breathed, unguarded pleasure slipping from her lips as the gates closed behind them. ‘Is this for real?’

A faint smile touched the edges of his lips. ‘Do you like it?’

‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Yes, I like it.’ Alighting from the car, she stood in the courtyard and stared up at an imposing house, surrounded by tall palm trees which soared up into the bright blueness of the sky. Dotted around the place were antique terracotta pots containing bright flowers and in the distance she could see the dark glitter of a swimming pool.

A housekeeper appeared from within the shadowed entrance of the house—a sharp-eyed woman wearing black who failed to return her nervous smile of greeting. But Lina heaved a silent sigh of relief because at least she didn’t recognise the woman as being from Caltarina. How difficult would that have been?

‘Carla, could you please arrange to have coffee sent down to the pool?’ Salvatore’s voice was smooth and entitled, before turning to Lina. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you where you can change.’

Lina followed him through the grounds, telling herself she should be enjoying every aspect of this lovely garden, but it wasn’t flowers or shrubs she wanted to look at, and it wasn’t the exotic cacti or carefully positioned statues which were dominating her attention. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Salvatore’s broad shoulders where the thick black waves of his hair were curving decadently over his collar and making her wonder what it would be like to trickle her fingers through them. She stared at the fluid thrust of his hips as he walked along the path with a confident stealth which radiated power and strength.

At last they came to a vast infinity pool—its water as dark as sapphires—with panoramic views over the green and golden countryside. But even that knockout view didn’t have any impact on her sudden overwhelming sense of self-consciousness at being in such an intimate situation with a man she didn’t really know.

And yet she wasn’t scared. On some fundamental level she totally trusted him—and how crazy was that?

‘You can get changed in there,’ he said, pointing to a small building which resembled a Swiss chalet. ‘I’m going up to the house to put on something cooler.’

Lina was relieved when he left, giving her time to compose herself, her relief short-lived when she consulted the full-length mirror and realised how frightful she looked. Hot and bothered and... She unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her denim shorts and gave a silent groan as she slithered out of panties which felt uncomfortably...wet.

And you know why that is, don’t you? mocked a taunting voice in her head. You might be a virgin who has never experienced a scintilla of desire but that doesn’t mean you can’t recognise it when it comes your way.

Digging around in her rucksack, she located her swimsuit and pulled it on over her increasingly sticky body, before stepping back to look at the result. Only now the mirror revealed a much too curvy body unflatteringly covered in a plain navy swimsuit and Lina’s heart plummeted. What was she even doing here?

Slipping from the chalet, she was thankful that Salvatore hadn’t returned, though she could see that a tray of coffee had been left on one of the tables. But she wasn’t going to hang around for refreshments. She would have a quick swim, get changed and then drive her scooter back home. Go back to where she belonged and forget all her foolish fantasies.

Curling her toes over the edge of the pool, she dived deep into the sapphire waters and a restorative underwater length of the deliciously cool water calmed her fractious nerves a little. Rising up to the surface, she shook her head like a wet puppy, blinking against the sunlight to see Salvatore standing on the side of the pool, and she could feel the painful tightening of her nipples because he was wearing nothing but a pair of bathing trunks.

Exasperation flooded over her. Of course he was wearing bathing trunks! Did she think he was about to go swimming in the black suit he’d worn for the funeral? So stop staring at him, she urged herself furiously. Do some more swimming and then get the hell out of here, back to where you belong.

But she couldn’t.

All she seemed capable of doing was treading water and staring up at him, because he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His sculpted body gleamed olive in the bright sunshine and his dark, hair-roughened legs were planted firmly on the side of the pool as he stared right back. Lina licked her lips and tasted chlorine but barely noticed it because she couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away from him. His broad chest tapered down to a pair of narrow hips and the black Lycra of his bathers was clinging with disturbingly graphic definition to...to...

Lina swallowed, feeling the sudden rise of colour to her cheeks, and swiftly she dived beneath the water again to swim another couple of lengths. But this time the water didn’t cool her and when she reached the shallow end of the pool he had slipped into the water and was waiting for her, just as she’d somehow known he would be. He was standing waist-deep, with tiny droplets glittering like scattered diamonds against all that rich golden skin. She wanted him so badly it was as if every atom of her body was longing for him to touch her. Suddenly she understood the reason for all the tension which had been slowly mounting throughout lunch and in the car afterwards. And despite her complete inexperience, Lina knew there was only one thing which could happen now.

If she wanted to.

She looked into his eyes and licked her lips again.

She wanted to.

Did he somehow read her thoughts or was it the hard thrust of her nipples against her navy costume which gave the game away? Was that why his body stiffened, as if someone had just turned him into stone? Lina didn’t know and she didn’t care, because suddenly it was as if she were being governed by something outside her control—by a force much greater than herself. It was as if she knew exactly what was going to happen, despite her total lack of experience and the laughable inequality which existed between them.

He didn’t move—not one inch—but that didn’t come as a surprise to her either. She’d somehow guessed he wouldn’t.

Because he doesn’t really want this, she recognised with a sudden understanding which went way beyond her actual experience. Oh, on one level he does—on the physical level, for sure. But he’s reluctant to initiate anything he might later regret. He doesn’t want to take responsibility for this.

But she did.

Somehow she knew she needed to.

Which was why she went right up to him and turned her wet face to his, standing on tiptoe and placing her trembling palms on his broad wet shoulders so she could support herself. But mainly so she could touch her lips to his, and kiss him.

CHAPTER THREE

SALVATORE TRIED TO do the right thing. The only thing. Which was not to respond to her in any way. Even though her fingers were digging into his shoulders and her soaking breasts were pressing against his chest. Even though his erection was so hard it felt as if he were about to explode. His throat constricted as he attempted to keep as still as possible and not react, but it was proving almost impossible because he wanted to kiss Lina Vitale more than he could remember wanting to kiss anybody.

He tried to tell himself she was not his type. In fact, she was the antithesis of his type. But that didn’t help him much either, because there was something so joyously vital about her. Those thick-lashed bourbon eyes. The mass of wet curls, which were streaming in a heavy mass over her luscious curves. It had been the same during the car journey here, when he’d been so achingly aware of her as she’d sat beside him. How had she managed to do that? He’d barely been able to keep his eyes on the road and when they’d arrived he’d left her to swim, quickly absenting himself in order to rid himself of his erotic thoughts. Alone, in the sane and cool surroundings of his bedroom, he’d thought he’d succeeded in that mission. And then he had seen her rising out of the water like a dark and voluptuous mermaid and—wham. Instant lust had combusted, and now this.

His throat dried because something told him she had the potential to be trouble and he needed to get her out of here as quickly as possible. But then his intentions were detonated by the way she pressed herself closer so that their bodies melded together as if they’d been glued. He could feel the exquisite press of her diamond-hard nipples pushing against the wet material of her swimsuit. Still he didn’t voluntarily touch her, just moved his lips so that he could whisper directly into her ear as if someone were listening. But no one was listening. He knew that. He knew it because he’d dismissed the housekeeper and chauffeur for the afternoon so that the place was now empty save for them. Had this been his unconscious agenda—to have a nearly naked Lina Vitale standing compliantly before him, and to be poised on the brink of having sex with her, despite his very real misgivings?

‘We aren’t going to do this,’ he husked, but he could feel his body tremble as he said it and it felt like a betrayal.

‘W-why not?’

‘Because...’ Pulling away from her ear, he forced himself to look into her eyes and he trembled again, cursing the inexplicable hunger which was heating his blood. He ground out the words with difficulty. ‘Because it’s pointless.’

‘Pointless?’

Salvatore nodded. He’d noticed things about her when they’d been having lunch on the beach. Her trainers had been old and so had her scooter. She was poor and he wasn’t stupid. Newspapers regularly highlighted his eligibility. In the race to get him to the altar—which seemed to have been ongoing since he was barely out of puberty—Lina Vitale wouldn’t have made it past the starting post, so different was she from his usual choice of sexual partner. And she needed to be aware of that. He needed to destroy any foolish fantasies she might be nurturing before this went any further. He needed to tell her that any kind of shared future was a non-starter.

‘I’m leaving tomorrow. And even if I weren’t, nothing could ever come of this, Lina, for all kinds of reasons. We’re too different, do you understand?’

‘I don’t care about the differences!’ she burst out.

Salvatore narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t used to such honesty and her fervent declaration was chipping away at his resolve. ‘If you really want this—’

‘I do!’

‘If you’re absolutely sure about it,’ he continued, biting each word out with deliberate emphasis, ‘then it’s going to be nothing but sex. One night and nothing more. And that’s why it shouldn’t happen.’

‘But what if...?’ She hesitated before replying, like someone contemplating the wisdom of their next words, and her soft Sicilian voice was tantalisingly husky as she seemed to draw courage from somewhere deep inside her. ‘What if I don’t want anything but sex?’

It was the right answer and the wrong answer, all rolled into one. It was like starting a fire and dousing it at the same time. He stroked his finger down over her forearm and felt her shiver. ‘You’re sure you don’t have a boyfriend waiting at home?’

‘Quite sure.’

‘Or a pack of angry brothers?’ he murmured, only half joking.

She pressed her lips together. ‘I’m an only child.’

He nearly told her that he was, too, until he remembered that conversation wasn’t the reason he was here.

And that was when he kissed her, pulling her into his arms so that he could devour her lips with the hard pressure of his own. He heard her gasp. He very nearly gasped himself and he tightened his grip on her because suddenly this was a kiss like no other. Powerful. Electric. His body shuddered as she thrust her tongue into his mouth in a way which was almost primitive but also intensely erotic, as was the brush of her soft belly against him as she circled her hips. Lacing his fingers into her wet curls, he hauled her closer, kissing her for so long that eventually he felt her knees dip, as if she were about to slide to the ground. And that was when he dragged his lips away, hearing her muffled murmur of protest as he did so.

‘I want to touch you. To explore this delicious body of yours. Like this,’ he husked as he cupped one swollen breast in his palm, and she shivered convulsively. ‘Does that feel good?’

‘Yes,’ she breathed thickly.

He smiled as he peeled the sodden fabric away so that her breasts were bared and bent his lips to first one and then the other, tasting chlorine and salt as he grazed his teeth over each puckered nipple. She gasped again, her fingers curving possessively into his hair, and once again her hips moved in unspoken invitation. He felt the urgent jerk of his erection and the sudden, almost debilitating sense of lust which rushed through his body. Distractedly, he pulled his mouth away from her nipple. He wanted to do it to her here. Now. Maybe on one of those convenient loungers, or maybe in the pool itself with the cool water contrasting against their heated flesh and giving them a space-age feeling of weightlessness. But he didn’t have any protection with him and that was something which needed to be addressed, and if he went off to fetch something, mightn’t it shatter this incredibly erotic spell?

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he brushed his lips over hers. ‘I don’t think we’re being watched but you can never be too careful and I’d hate to think we were providing some voyeur with a floor show,’ he murmured. ‘So why don’t we go inside?’

Her lips trembled. ‘What about...your staff?’

‘The house is empty. I gave them the afternoon off.’

She looked as if she was about to ask why, and if she had—would he have told her that, on some subliminal level, maybe he had wanted the house empty in case of just this scenario? But she didn’t ask. Just hauled her swimsuit back in place to cover her breasts. ‘Okay,’ she said.

‘Let’s go,’ he said roughly, linking her wet fingers with his.

Lina could feel her stomach performing flip-flops as Salvatore led her back through the gardens towards the villa. She skirted a large, spiky cacti which lined the path. Now she was out of the water she could feel her skin growing dry, but the warmth of the afternoon sun was having no impact on the goose pimples icing her skin. Her throat tightened as she contemplated what she was about to do. Was she mad? Maybe. She was mad for him, that was for sure. He only had to look at her, let alone touch her, and she felt undone. He had tried to talk her out of doing this and maybe that should have been a warning, but in the end—did it really matter? He had been perfectly honest about the temporary nature of this liaison, yet strangely, she didn’t care. Wasn’t it better that way than if he’d lulled her with lies? If he’d promised to get in touch and then not bothered, wouldn’t that be even worse?

As he pushed open the door to the huge house and she followed him inside, Lina realised her conscience was clear. Because who could blame her for wanting this? Bound by a promise she’d made to her dying father, she had stayed with her mother for too long. She had lived a loveless existence for so many years, hidden away in her tiny village and feeling that life was passing her by. She’d never even felt sexual desire before, but now here was the opportunity to experience it for herself. She could find out what all the fuss was about. It wasn’t against the law, was it?

Salvatore had paused in the vaulted splendour of the panelled hall and his face was shadowed as he bent to brush his mouth over hers. ‘I’d love to give you a guided tour, but I don’t think I could give it my full attention at the moment,’ he said, the unevenness of his voice betraying an urgency he seemed to be fighting. He tilted her chin so that their eyes met. ‘So why don’t we just go upstairs? Unless you’ve changed your mind, of course?’

Lina shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered shyly. ‘I haven’t changed my mind.’

A trace of something like darkness had crossed his features and for one awful moment Lina thought that he might be the one having second thoughts. But then his fingers tightened their grip on hers as they ascended a swooping staircase of unimaginable grandeur. Upstairs, a solid wooden door was opened by the impatient thrust of Salvatore’s foot to reveal an ancient room. But there was no time to admire the embroidered wall-hangings or the stunning views of the Sicilian countryside as the door swung shut behind them—because Salvatore was pulling her into his arms, undisguised hunger darkening his rugged features and setting up an answering clamour deep inside her. He was stroking damp curls away from her face and his eyes were blazing as he bent to claim her mouth, in a slow and drugging kiss.

And Lina’s world tilted, because it was like discovering the existence of a different dimension. She opened her mouth, her fingers kneading the silken flesh at his shoulders, and within seconds she was kissing him back with untutored fervour. For a moment he seemed content with her eagerness and inexperience, before he moved away from her, a touch of impatience darkening his voice.

‘Let’s get rid of this, shall we?’ he ground out, tugging the damp swimsuit over her body and the natural resistance of her undulating hips. ‘I want to see you naked.’

It was a masterful command and perhaps Lina should have felt shy as her costume slithered to the ground, since no man had ever seen her like this. But she didn’t. She felt strong and powerful as his gaze raked over her, because who wouldn’t feel good if a man was looking at you with that raw gleam of hunger in his eyes?

Gingerly, he removed his swim-shorts, uttering a low Sicilian curse she was surprised he knew, and Lina felt her cheeks burn as she registered the reason why such a simple manoeuvre had proved so difficult.

‘Are you blushing?’ he questioned teasingly as he walked towards her. ‘And why might that be, Signorina Vitale?’

Lina wondered what he’d say if she told him she’d never seen a naked man before, let alone one who was so obviously aroused. But if she did that then he would guess she was a virgin and she couldn’t risk that. Because she wanted this. She wanted this more than she’d ever wanted anything. She didn’t want Salvatore reeling back in horror when he realised how inexperienced she truly was. She didn’t want him doing the ‘right thing’—which she suspected he would—by snapping at her to get dressed and then sending her back to her village. She could just imagine the ride home on her little fifty cc bike, quivering with frustration and humiliation and feeling like a woman who’d been cheated just seconds away from discovering sexual pleasure for the first time in her life.

‘It was very hot out by the pool,’ she said truthfully.

‘And it’s going to get even hotter in a minute.’ He gave a low laugh of pleasure. ‘Come here, bella.’

Without warning, he scooped his arm beneath her knees and carried her across the room before placing her beneath the embroidered canopy of the enormous bed. And with that fierce light shining from his blue eyes, Lina really did feel beautiful.

He began to stroke her, tracing erotic pathways over her naked skin—only he did it so slowly that it made her want to dissolve with pleasure. Lina swallowed. She was melting! She could feel the heat increasing and the inexorable building of fluttering excitement inside her. She writhed her hips impatiently but still he wasn’t making contact with the place where she most wanted to be touched.

‘Salvatore,’ she whispered, wanting something more without really knowing what it was.

‘Mmm?’ he murmured, his mouth grazing against her neck so that she could feel the warm fan of his breath, which echoed the rise and fall of his powerful chest. Slipping his hand between her thighs, he parted them before hovering one finger tantalisingly over the sensitive bud of her quivering heat. ‘Is this what you want?’

‘Yes.’ She closed her eyes tightly.

‘And this?’ he teased as he flicked her a touch.

‘Yes!’

His laugh was soft as he began to strum her and Lina almost shot off the bed as he established a soft rhythm. Breathless anticipation captured her in a silken snare as he lured her on towards some unimaginable peak. And suddenly she was falling. Or flying. He shattered her completely, as if he were slowly taking her apart before putting her back together again.

‘Yes,’ he breathed approvingly and she was aware that he was watching her spasming body with unashamed pleasure. ‘I knew you would be passionate from the first time I saw you.’

She thought she must have murmured his name for he gave that satisfied laugh again before reaching out to the nearby table to grab at something—which Lina quickly realised must be a condom. She kissed his bare shoulder as he moved to lie on top of her and his mouth sought hers in a way which suddenly seemed way more intimate than before.

He said: I want you so much, Lina.

He said: You feel incredible.

And Lina was so dazzled by those words of praise that she touched her fingers to his face in wonder, because even if he didn’t really mean them, couldn’t she just enjoy being made to feel gorgeous by a man who had fallen into her world like a dazzling star?

And then the fairy tale began to take on a new and unwanted direction. Was it the obvious resistance he encountered as he pushed inside her which made him grow very still? Which made his face darken with something which no longer looked like passion, but a dawning recognition? He uttered another Sicilian curse, one which might have made her blush if she’d heard it anywhere else. But Lina was too concerned about what was happening to worry about profanities. Something much more serious—mainly the very real threat that this might end before it had properly begun.

‘You’re a virgin?’ he verified.

Dumbly, she nodded.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

But Lina wasn’t really interested in answering his question—her body was too busy instinctively clenching around the rigid length of him as, softly, he cursed again. But this time his words seemed to lack conviction and suddenly he was moving. Moving inside her. Thrusting up deep into her body and taking on a hard rhythm which felt relentless and incredible. That amazing feeling began to build inside her again and Lina could feel control slipping away as she poised in readiness to take another heavenly flight. Or fall. But it was too late—or too early. Or something. Because Salvatore was choking out a helpless-sounding cry as he bucked within her, sweat sheening his muscular back, so that her own desire shrivelled and died. And when he’d finished there was nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing, which seemed to echo discordantly around the vast room.

CHAPTER FOUR

AT FIRST LINA thought she was alone, mostly because it was quiet. Unbelievably quiet—save for the tweeting of some distant bird. She opened her eyes, aware of nothing other than the tangle of fine sheets and an unfamiliar aching deep in her body. She stretched luxuriously, caught in the dreamy world halfway between sleeping and waking, as fragments of memory came filtering back into her mind. And then she saw Salvatore, silhouetted against the morning sun, which was streaming in through the un-shuttered window beside which he stood. Dark and forbidding and sexy as hell.

And fully dressed.

Now the memory became a sensual stream as she remembered the way it had felt to have him deep inside her. Making her cry out with ecstasy time after time, so that he’d had to kiss her quiet until her body had recovered from that sweet, slow shudder which made everything else seem so insignificant.

Had he heard her stir? Was that why he turned to look at her? She felt her heart turn over as she remembered that time in the middle of the night, when they’d been dissolved by passion and she had felt so close to him. When she had snuggled up against his chest and he’d been stroking his fingers through her hair, and she had confided in him all her dreams that one day she might be able to break away from her mother and make something of herself.

‘You’re awake,’ he observed.

‘I am,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady. As though what had happened hadn’t been a big deal. And it wasn’t, she told herself fiercely. She’d lost her virginity, that was all. She’d spent her adult life wondering whether she’d ever meet anyone who could stir her to the kind of passion she’d only ever read about and now she had. That could be regarded as a positive—just so long as she didn’t start having unrealistic expectations about what was going to happen next.

It was a one-night stand, she reminded herself. It was never intended to be anything else. And she would be crazy if she ever thought any differently about it.

She smiled. ‘You look like you have places to go, things to do—so please don’t let me stop you if you need to be somewhere else.’

Salvatore met her eyes, uncharacteristically unsure of how to respond to her words as a rush of conflicting feelings washed through him. He wanted to tell her, yes, he had to be somewhere else. Somewhere as far away from here—and her—as possible. But that would be tantamount to running away. It would be the action of a coward and he was no coward, even though his head was all over the place this morning. Because Lina had been a virgin—something he had suspected even though he’d done a brilliant job of pushing that possibility to the back of his mind. Yet despite her inexperience, she had provoked a seemingly insatiable hunger in him. At times during the night it had felt as if she had cast a spell on him, without his permission. He liked control in the bedroom—as in every other area of his life—and this unsophisticated village girl had temporarily robbed him of that control.

And he didn’t like it.

He didn’t like it one bit.

‘Are you okay?’ he questioned.

‘I’m fine.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t understand,’ he breathed, genuinely perplexed. ‘Why give me your virginity, Lina? A man you barely know.’

She sat up in bed then and the sheet slipped to her waist, so that it bared her breasts. Dark curls were tumbling in profusion over rosy-tipped nipples and Salvatore felt the betraying stir of his body.

‘I didn’t give my virginity to you,’ she corrected. ‘Just like you didn’t take it from me. It’s natural. It’s the way of the world and it happens all the time.’

‘But clearly not to you. And I fear you may have squandered it with a man like me, who was seeking nothing more than a swift liaison. A pleasant diversion at the end of a tough couple of days.’ He sighed, wondering why, after that first time, he hadn’t done what he should have done and sent her back to her little village. Driven her back in the fading light after she’d freshened up and eradicated the evocative scent of his sex from her skin. Yet she had looked at him with those wide bourbon eyes and he had felt all his resolve slipping away.

‘I don’t want to go. I want you to teach me,’ she had whispered.

‘Teach you what?’ he remembered whispering back, even though the silken caress of her fingers around the hard jerk of his erection had told him exactly what form her proposed lessons should take.

‘About pleasure,’ she’d purred.

And he had. God forgive him, but he’d done exactly that. Maybe it had been the heady combination of innocence and appetite which had completely blown his mind. Or the fact that she’d been so eager to learn the things which pleased him. Whatever the reason, he had been suckered in—losing himself in her amazing body, over and over again—until the rose and saffron light of dawn had begun to glimmer on the horizon.

He looked across the room at her as she sat framed against the white pillows, like some fallen Madonna. Her blue-black curls were wild and a rosy flush emphasised the angled slant of her cheekbones and suddenly he wanted her all over again. ‘Won’t anyone notice that you’ve gone?’ he questioned as, abruptly, he moved a little further away from the temptation of the bed. ‘Won’t they care that you didn’t bother going home last night?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m safe. I sent a text to my friend Rosa in the neighbouring village, asking her to cover for me if my mother rang up.’

‘Well, you’d better go and shower. Maybe do something with your hair,’ he offered critically. ‘And then I’ll arrange to have your scooter loaded up onto one of the trucks. I can drop you off on the outskirts of your village so you don’t have to drive the whole way back.’

‘No, really. There’s no need. I’m perfectly capable of making my own way home.’

His eyes narrowed, as if he was unused to having his wishes overturned, and Lina managed a thin smile as she pushed aside the rumpled sheets and got out of bed. But her bravado only lasted as long as it took her to get to the bathroom, where she leaned against the door, her heart thumping as she thought: What have I done? She stood beneath a terrifyingly efficient shower while powerful jets of water briefly lessened the aching of her body, but nothing could eradicate the painful clench of her heart as she realised that last night hadn’t been as straightforward as she had imagined. It was supposed to be about sex and only sex. So why had it felt like something more? Why, when Salvatore had kissed her and stroked and caressed her, had she felt more cherished than she’d ever done before? And it was dangerous to feel that way. She knew that. He’d spelt out word by brutal word that he wasn’t looking for anything more.

Raking her fingers through her curls and scrambling into last night’s clothes, she returned to the bedroom to find that a tray of coffee had magically appeared. Was his housekeeper back on the premises? she wondered awkwardly as she recalled the unmistakable look of disapproval she’d seen clouding the woman’s watchful eyes when she’d arrived.

‘Sit down. Have some of this before you go,’ Salvatore said as he handed her a delicate cup of the inky brew.

She didn’t want to sit down, but she took the coffee and it was delicious. Lina drank down the strong and reviving liquid before picking up her rucksack, and as she straightened up she knew she had to put on the performance of a lifetime.

‘Right.’ Her smile was bright. ‘I think that’s everything. It’s time I was on my way.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Lina—’

‘No.’ She would never know where she got the nerve to cut off what sounded like words of regret, but Lina realised it was imperative she didn’t slink away, acting as if she’d committed some sort of shameful crime. Because she hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d had sex—amazing sex—with a man who had turned out to be a skilled and considerate lover. Surely that was something to rejoice about? He hadn’t promised her the stars and she hadn’t asked for them. ‘You don’t have to say anything, because it isn’t necessary,’ she continued. ‘I enjoyed it. More than I ever imagined I would. I’ve never done anything like this before and I doubt I ever will again. So I’ll just say goodbye and let you get on with your day.’

She wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t enjoyed the very real sense of discomfiture which briefly darkened his features—as if her words were confusing him. As if he was the one who always called the shots and resented anyone else for daring to take on that role. But what could he say? He certainly couldn’t object to her dignified departure, could he? She was liberating him from all responsibility and, as a result, Lina felt an unfamiliar sense of liberation herself.

‘I’ll see you out.’

‘Honestly, there’s no need. I can find my own way out.’

Some of his steeliness returned as he gritted out his next words. ‘I said, I’ll see you out.’

It felt weird to retrace her steps of the previous night and even weirder to see her little scooter sitting outside the grand villa, with the helmet hung neatly over the handle, looking so sparkly that she guessed the chauffeur must have polished it. But she guessed that was what happened when you were as rich as Salvatore...you just turned your back for a moment or two, and some underling was busy making your world look all perfect and shiny.

‘Lina.’

She looked up into his rugged features and saw the sudden darkening of his eyes and for a moment she thought he was about to kiss her goodbye—as if he were offering her some kind of small consolation prize. And something told her that if she allowed him to do that, then all her newfound bravado might just crumble and disappear. Because wasn’t her dignity vital at a time like this? Quickly, she took a step back and saw his brow knit together in a frown.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Your housekeeper is standing behind the shutters watching and she can see everything.’

‘I don’t care what she can see.’

She thought about the things he’d said. About her having squandered her virginity. Why would she want to kiss a man who had delivered such a damning assessment of their night together? Lina crammed her crash helmet down over her curls. ‘Well, maybe I do.’

With a feeling close to disbelief, Salvatore watched her walk towards her bike. He’d expected her to hang around until they’d exchanged phone numbers, at least. But instead Lina Vitale was buckling up her helmet as if she couldn’t wait to put as much distance between them as possible and, as a consequence, that made him reluctant to see her go, because he was a man who always liked to do the leaving.

He watched as she swung one shapely leg over her little moped and although the denim shorts could in no way be described as revealing, he knew all too well the soft and velvety flesh which lay beneath. Flesh which had been soft and full, like an overripe damson before it dropped to the ground, weighted down by all that sweet, dark juice. He told himself he should be grateful that she had accepted the limitations of their night together with such grace.

But as she twisted the hand-grip of her little scooter and the engine spluttered into life, he could feel the renewed heat of his blood. And a frustrated beat of longing washed over him as she drove away down the drive, the streaming banner of her hair shining blue-black in the bright Sicilian morning.

‘You little slut!’

Lina bit her lip. ‘Mama, please—’

‘What else should I call you when you’ve just spent the night with Salvatore di Luca?’ A truculent jaw was thrust forward. ‘Are you going to deny that, Nicolina?’

‘I—’

‘And you lied to me about being with Rosa, didn’t you? Or are you going to deny that, too?’

Lina stood completely still as she stared at her furious mother, her heart racing as she tried to piece together her thoughts. She’d known something was wrong from the moment she’d entered the neat little house, her body still warm and tingling with pleasure. She’d been feeling almost proud of herself for having walked away from Salvatore’s luxury villa so coolly and calmly. For having accepted the status quo. Of course, she wouldn’t have been human if there hadn’t been a tiny ache in her heart as she’d driven away, because who wouldn’t have wanted more? But all those hopeless longings had been forgotten the instant she’d walked in and seen her mother’s angry face.

‘How did you find out?’ she questioned, her cheeks flushing.

‘How do you think I found out? I rang Rosa. The friend you were supposedly spending the night with!’

‘You rang her?’ Lina repeated dully.

‘Oh, she tried to lie.’ Her mother was in her element now. ‘To make up some sort of flimsy excuse about why you couldn’t come to the phone. But I didn’t believe a word of it, and then Sofia Bertarelli confirmed that you’d been with him—that you’d turned up there yesterday afternoon, as bold as brass!’

‘Sofia Bertarelli?’ Lina was puzzled now.

‘A customer of mine, who happens to be a cousin of the billionaire’s housekeeper!’ Her mother spat the words out. ‘Who couldn’t wait to tell me!’ She clenched her hands, her bony knuckles growing white. ‘I can’t believe you would behave like that, Lina—like a common little slut! That you would spend the night with a man you barely know and ruin, not just your own reputation, but mine too—as if it hasn’t suffered enough already! But it has confirmed one thing. Oh, yes.’ A grim look of finality locked her mother’s bitter features. ‘You won’t be leaving this village again until you have had a few lessons in morality.’

Afterwards Lina would wonder what gave her the sudden urge to stand up for herself in a way she’d never been able to do before. Had her first experience of sex liberated her in more ways than she’d thought? Was that why she was able to stare at her mother, not with fear or dread or regret, but with a growing awareness that this was all wrong? That it had been wrong for a long time and she could no longer tolerate it. ‘You were checking up on me,’ she said dully.

‘Of course I was checking up on you—and with good reason, it seems!’

‘You have no right to check up on me,’ said Lina very quietly. ‘I’m twenty-eight years old and I should be free to behave as I wish, just so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. And I haven’t.’ She lifted her chin very high. ‘I haven’t hurt anyone.’

But it was as though she hadn’t spoken, for her mother raged on. ‘You will not leave this village again until I say so! You will work hard and accept your position in life. It’s time you were grateful enough to marry a decent man who truly wants you—that’s if it’s not already too late! But never again must you involve yourself with someone who just takes advantage of your stupidity and lack of judgement by bedding you and then discarding you!’

It was possibly the most brutal thing her mother had ever said, but in a way it spurred Lina on to do something she should have done years ago. But that didn’t make it easy. It was never easy to break a pattern which had become so entrenched that you couldn’t image a different way of living. ‘You can’t keep me here by force,’ she said quietly.

‘Just you try to stop me!’

‘No, Mama. I don’t think you realise what I’m saying.’ Somehow Lina managed to speak quite calmly, even though her stomach was churning. ‘I want a change. I need a change and I should have done it a long time ago. I’ve had it with slaving my fingers to the bone and getting no thanks for it. Just like I’ve had it with you bossing me around as if I’m a child of five, rather than a fully grown woman.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving, Mama. And I’m leaving right now.’

‘Oh, really?’ Her mother’s voice ascended into a shrill shriek as she followed Lina upstairs. ‘How am I expected to run the business without you to make clothes for me?’

Lina pulled out an old suitcase and started packing the clothes she’d made to take to her cousin’s wedding in Florida, but which had never been used. ‘You’re perfectly capable of sewing them yourself. Or why not take on an apprentice? There are young girls in the village who will be glad of the opportunity.’

And just see if you can get away with treating someone else the way you’ve treated me. But she didn’t say that.

‘And where do you think you’re going to go?’ demanded her mother. ‘Who on this island do you think will want you?’

Lina snapped the suitcase closed, found her pristine passport and her small stack of savings, then she removed her denim shorts and blouse and wriggled into a clean dress, wishing her mother would give her a little privacy. ‘I’m going away. To San Francisco.’

‘To be with him?’ Her mother gave a discordant laugh. ‘You think he’ll want you now he’s got what he wanted?’

Lina shook her head. No. She wasn’t that stupid. She didn’t think there was going to be some kind of fairy-tale ending for her and Salvatore di Luca. In the intervening hours since she’d left his bed, he was unlikely to have decided she was the woman of his dreams and he couldn’t live without her. But although her billionaire lover had painstakingly explained that he didn’t want a relationship with her, he didn’t strike her as a dishonourable man and surely he would help her. He owned a plane and was presumably in a position to help her find a job in America. For someone with his wealth and influence, that wouldn’t be too big a deal, would it?

After all, it wasn’t as if she wanted anything else from him.

Was it?

CHAPTER FIVE

LINA SHIVERED AS the icy look in Salvatore’s eyes told her more than words ever could.

She’d known straight away that this was the last thing he wanted—last night’s lover turning up on his doorstep and asking him for help. Literally, as he was about to leave. But it was too late to back out now and, besides, what else could she do?

She had been tense with nerves as she had returned to the sprawling villa, terrified he might already have left Sicily and flown back to his home in America. She had arrived in time to see his chauffeur loading smart leather suitcases into the boot of the luxury car, her relief that he was still here soon replaced by the fear that he might not want to see her again. A fear which had been confirmed when Salvatore had appeared at the door of the house and watched her get off her motorbike with suspicion darkening his bright blue eyes. Her heart had sunk as she had looked at his coldly beautiful face because there was no welcoming smile on his lips, nor any kind of greeting to acknowledge the passion they’d shared during the night. Only a cool and steady regard, tinged with a faint but unmistakable impatience. Lina felt like someone who had stepped out of line. As if this wasn’t what was supposed to happen and she should have been clever enough to have realised that for herself.

‘Lina,’ he said carefully, his dark brows raised in arrogant query. ‘Did you forget something?’

And Lina knew that if she babbled out an explanation about how a tiny earring belonging to her grandmother, or something equally sentimental, must have slipped down the side of the bed, then a smile of relief would break out on his sensual lips and someone would be instantly dispatched to find it for her. But there was no earring. Nothing had been forgotten or misplaced. She was here to throw herself on his mercy and she tried to think of a diplomatic way to lessen the impact of her request, but there was nothing to fall back on but the unvarnished truth.

‘I need... I need your help,’ she said.

His blue eyes became hooded. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

Lina tried not to wince at that dismissive response because the subtext to his words was: This has nothing to do with me, so please don’t bother me with your problems.

She swallowed, twisting a tiny silver ring around her middle finger. ‘I need to leave Sicily,’ she whispered.

‘Your holiday plans are not really my concern.’

‘I’m not talking about a holiday.’

‘What, then?’ he questioned impatiently.

‘I was hoping I might be able to ask your advice.’

‘About what?’

‘About finding a job.’

His powerful body stiffened, like a natural predator which had just heard the crackle of danger, but he flitted her a brief smile, as if the temporary illumination of his handsome face would take the sting out of his next words. ‘I’m afraid you’re talking to the wrong person,’ he said. ‘It’s true I have a large workforce but I don’t micromanage employment issues and, even if I did, I certainly don’t take on casual labour on a whim. My human resources team handle that side of my life, so you would need to deal with them. Look, Lina, I don’t want to be hurtful, but—’

‘No! Maybe I’m not making myself clear.’ Her words came tumbling out and she saw his look of surprise, as if he wasn’t used to being interrupted. Come to think of it, she was pretty surprised herself—but what was it they said? Desperate times called for desperate measures and she was feeling pretty desperate right now. Didn’t matter that Salvatore di Luca was a billionaire and she was a village dressmaker without any formal qualifications, because right now he represented the only hope she had. ‘I can’t go back home,’ she explained. ‘My mother has discovered that I spent the night with you and it’s the talk of the village. If I stay, she’ll make my life a misery.’

His voice was dismissive. ‘I’m afraid that’s not my problem.’

‘I know that. But surely—’

‘Surely since I’ve spent the night with you, it now follows you’re my responsibility?’ he snapped. ‘Is that what you mean, Lina? Even though I specifically asked you whether you were sure you wanted to have sex with me. And you said yes. In fact, you instigated it, as I recall—even though you must have anticipated that you could get found out.’

Lina clenched her fists. She wanted to spill out her hurt at the way he was making her sound so predatory. To tell him he was the most arrogant man she’d ever met and she wondered how she could have fallen into bed with him. But what did she know of the ways of men? Maybe they all acted like this if a woman gave themselves so easily. Wasn’t that what she’d been told all through her growing-up years—that a man would lose all respect for you if you had sex with him too quickly? She swallowed, knowing what had happened between them had felt so right—but that wasn’t what mattered now. The only thing which mattered was that she had nowhere to go and she needed Salvatore di Luca on her side.

‘Of course I’m not your responsibility,’ she answered quietly. ‘But my life will be intolerable if I remain here. Surely you can understand that. I’ll be seen as a woman of loose morals. I’ll be judged every time I walk down the street to buy bread. Have you forgotten what these small villages are like?’

His lip curled. ‘I made my escape just as soon as I could. Why didn’t you do the same?’

‘Because it’s different for men, and because I made a promise...’ Her voice trembled. ‘I made a promise to my father that I would stay and look after my mother, only I’ve realised it isn’t doing her any favours. It’s just making her more dependent on me, and it’s time she stood on her own two feet. I need to get away, Salvatore—surely you could help me.’

‘How?’ he demanded, then narrowed his eyes as he appeared to sift through a series of possibilities. ‘Do you want to carry on staying in this villa, once I’ve left? The rental is paid for another week.’

‘No. I can’t stay in Sicily.’

He gave a slightly impatient flick of his fingers. ‘I have a house in Rome you could use.’

Did he really think she could take a flight to the mainland and go to the capital city of Italy, a place where she knew no one? ‘That wouldn’t work either.’ She drew in a deep breath and prayed for courage. ‘What I’m hoping is that you could take me to America with you.’

He gave a short laugh and stared at her, as if waiting for the punchline. ‘Seriously?’

‘All I’m asking is for somewhere temporary to stay until I can get myself settled.’

‘Is that all you’re asking?’ he echoed sarcastically.

‘I’ll pay back any expenses I run-up, I promise you that, even if it takes me the rest of my life. I just need a break, Salvatore,’ she finished, on a whisper. ‘Didn’t someone give you a break when you were starting out?’

Salvatore scowled as her words struck an unwanted chord. Yes, he’d had a break. His godfather had given him enough money to buy an airplane ticket to the New World and to feed himself until he found himself a job.

He knew there was nothing to stop him from telling her she wasn’t his problem. From jumping in his limo and roaring away without a backward glance. Her mother might be angry but she would soon get over it—she’d have to. And if the neighbours gossiped, so what? They would only gossip until the next scandal came along. Because she wasn’t his responsibility. They were both grown-ups. They’d had a one-night stand, that was all.

That was all.

He’d made her no false promises.

He owed her nothing.

Nothing.

But, unerringly, Nicolina Vitale had touched on a raw nerve for Salvatore did know how small-town gossip worked. He knew how powerful it could be. How people were quick to judge you, especially if you were a woman. If he turned his back on her now and walked away—wouldn’t that be like throwing her to the lions? And wasn’t there something about her fervour which made him think of the person he’d been all those years ago—so full of drive and ambition and hope? Was it that which made him hesitate?

‘You’ve never even been abroad and I don’t think you understand just how different Sicily and America are,’ he argued. ‘Culture shock won’t come close to it. You don’t even speak English.’

‘Yes, I do,’ she said, instantly switching to that language, admittedly with a rather pronounced Sicilian inflection.

Immediately, Salvatore did the same. ‘And just how much of it do you understand?’ he questioned imperiously. ‘Knowing how to ask the time or get directions to the nearest railway station is one thing. But if that’s your standard of fluency, you’ll be completely out of your depth.’

She tilted her chin upwards. ‘Would you like to test me, then?’ she challenged, her voice growing more heated now. ‘Do you want me to assure you that I won’t make a mistake about “flower” and “flour” and that I know the difference between “angry” and “hungry”?’

Salvatore very nearly laughed and then very nearly pulled her in his arms to kiss the truculent tremble of her lips, because her defiance seemed to have kick-started a slideshow of erotic recall which was starting to heat his blood. Suddenly he could picture her dark olive curves outlined against the white sheet. He could remember how soft she’d felt as she had eagerly opened her fleshy thighs to accommodate his thrusting body. He could recall the sweet tightness as he had broken through her hymen with what had felt like the biggest erection of his life.

‘Where did you learn to speak English like that?’ he queried unevenly.

‘I’ve always worked hard at my studies and we had a teacher in the village,’ she explained. ‘A woman from England who fell in love with a Sicilian waiter and came back to Caltarina to be with him. She made it her mission to teach all the children in her care how to speak her mother tongue. She said...’ She hesitated. ‘She said we never knew when it would come in useful.’

‘And maybe she inspired you with more than her language skills,’ he suggested silkily. ‘Did she also teach you that if all else fails, you can use a man as an escape route from a situation which no longer appeals to you?’

Lina’s heart was beating very loudly as his words sank in and she stared at him in growing disbelief. ‘Do you think...?’ Say it, she urged herself, even though it made her feel sick to articulate the insulting implications of his words. She sucked in a deep breath and the air felt hot and raw against her throat. ‘Do you really think I slept with you in order to get to America?’

‘Who knows?’ He shrugged. ‘People have done a lot worse to get themselves a Green Card.’

It occurred to Lina that maybe he didn’t think so highly of himself if he thought she’d targeted him because of that. Surely he didn’t imagine that a woman would have sex with him for any other reason than because he was irresistible. But his beliefs weren’t her problem. It didn’t matter what the billionaire thought of her. What mattered was that he gave her a seat on his plane and a temporary roof over her head. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

‘So will you help me, Salvatore? Will you take me to America with you?’

The pause which followed seemed to last for ever until he glanced down at his watch with the slight desperation of the condemned prisoner counting down the seconds to his own execution. ‘My jet is leaving in an hour.’ His narrowed eyes were shards of unfriendly blue ice as he lifted his gaze to her face and his words were equally cold. ‘You can stay on my estate for a few weeks, but no longer. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘Perfectly,’ she said, her heart racing, wondering why, suddenly, he was looking like the enemy.

‘Then get in the car,’ he snapped.

CHAPTER SIX

IT WAS A day of firsts.

Lina had never been whisked to a private airfield before, or been treated almost like royalty by everyone they came into contact with. As soon as she and Salvatore stepped from the limousine, the tycoon’s personal crew flocked around him like fireflies on a summer’s night, though she couldn’t miss their looks of surprise when they registered that she was to be his travelling companion.

Did she look out of place in her handmade dress and the sneakers she’d bought from the local market?

Of course she did, but she couldn’t allow such things to bother her. Her position here was nothing to be ashamed of. She wasn’t Salvatore’s lover. Not any more. That part of their relationship was over. He’d told her very clearly that it was never intended to be anything other than a one-night stand and she told herself she was happy with that decision. She was simply hitching a ride from a man who could help her, and one day she would pay him back in full.

But nerves got the better of her as she fastened her seat belt and she turned to the man beside her, trying not to focus on the long legs which were stretched out in front of him, or the quiet strength which was radiating from his powerful body. ‘Do you think we’re going to crash?’ she asked as he pulled a computer from a soft leather briefcase and the plane’s engines roared into life.

He frowned. ‘You really think I wouldn’t make a point of using the safest planes flown by the best pilots in the business?’

‘Then why did the stewardess spend so much time pointing out the emergency exits and showing me how to put on my life jacket?’

He gave a flicker of a smile. ‘It’s a legal requirement on all flights, Lina. And I hope you’re not going to come out with that type of inane comment for the entire journey. Transatlantic travel can be tedious at the best of times, but that would really stretch my patience.’

‘I’m sure it would and I’ll try my best to keep my inane comments to myself. It’s just that I’ve never been in a plane before. I told you that.’

Salvatore stared unseeingly at the blur of figures on the screen in front of him, because that was easier than looking into her dark and smoky eyes. Yes, she had told him. She had told him lots of things but it seemed his hearing had been selective and he’d only registered the things he’d wanted to hear. His fingers hovered over his laptop; for once he was failing to be absorbed by the graphs which dominated the bright square in front of him. Lust had triumphed over reason and, as a consequence, he now found himself in a situation not of his choosing.

‘Just read something to pass the time, will you?’ he growled. ‘Ask one of the crew to bring you some magazines.’

Expelling an impatient breath, he turned his attention back to his computer, because his plan had been to work, just as he always did when he was travelling. He never really stopped working. In interviews, he was often asked why he kept going when his fortune was already so vast, and, although he sometimes brushed the question aside, deep down he knew why. It wasn’t just the adrenaline buzz you got while chasing down a tough new deal, or the flush of success when you pulled it off, sometimes against all the odds. It wasn’t even the irrational dread which lingered on from his childhood—his determination never to know hunger again.

He narrowed his eyes. No. The reason was far more elemental than that. At least you knew where you were with hard cold dollars and cents. They didn’t betray you, or hurt you, or lie to you. It was only people who did that. And it was the people closest to you who could tell the biggest lies of all.

An image of painted red lips and nails the colour of blood swam into his mind, accompanied by the memory of a low, taunting laugh. And Salvatore gave silent thanks for being the man he was today. A man who was psychologically self-contained and immune to the wiles of women. He sighed. If only desire could be controlled as tightly as his emotions. His gaze flickered across to Lina, transfixed by the way her raven curls tumbled down over the swell of her breasts.

Had he thought he could compartmentalise their explosive night of passion and put it firmly in the past, because to do anything else would be an act little short of insanity? Against his better judgement, he had agreed to provide her with a temporary place to stay, and keeping his distance from her was essential if he wanted to drive home the message that he was unavailable. But maybe he had misjudged her appeal or maybe he’d underestimated how powerful it felt to have his sexuality so keenly awoken after what now seemed like a long time. Because suddenly his work was forgotten. Suddenly Lina Vitale was the sole focus of his attention.

In her simple dress she looked as fresh as a blossom which had tumbled from a tree—despite the fact she’d had very little rest last night. He could personally vouch for that. Sleep had eluded them both as they had lain with their limbs tangled and, as dawn had washed the bed with warm shades of rose and gold, he had been aware of the olive sheen of her skin, only a couple of shades lighter than his own. There had seemed something indefinably erotic about that. She was the first Sicilian lover he’d ever had—probably with good reason. But reason was the last thing on his mind right now.

He felt his throat thicken as she lifted her head and her lips parted, reminding him of the way she had softly clamped them around his erection in the preceding hours. He wondered if his breath had quickened. Was that why her nipples had started to show through the cheap cotton of her dress?

With an effort, he flicked his gaze back to the screen, but no matter how many emails he tried to compose, the words just kept blurring, because all he could think about was the throb of desire which was hot and heavy at his groin. When she crossed one ankle over the other like that, it seemed like the most erotic action he’d ever witnessed. He couldn’t stop thinking about his fingers travelling up her leg to linger on the cool satin of her thighs, or how good it had felt to make that first, tight thrust inside her molten heat. He had taken her over and over again and each time it had felt just as sweet as the first time. Hell, she had been so sweet. So openly blown away each time he’d made her come, which had been a lot. She had rained kisses all over his lips over and over again, as if she was thanking him. Were all virgins so touchingly grateful?

He didn’t want to think about it.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

His mouth grew dry as the tension between them mounted. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from within the confines of a cabin which had never felt this small before. He was having difficulty breathing and started wondering if the captain had adjusted the pressure. He swallowed.

‘So how are the first-time-flyer nerves?’ he said, the conversational tone of his question belying the erratic thunder of his heart. ‘Feeling a little less anxious now?’

Lina swallowed as she rested her hand on the magazine—the glossy page feeling sticky beneath her hot palm. Less anxious? Was he kidding? She might have had fears about flying, but they had been replaced by a concern about her reaction to him, and the way she couldn’t seem to do a thing about it. Did he realise he was making her breasts ache just by looking at her, or that her panties had become embarrassingly damp?

But she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him like that. The brief sexual side of their relationship was a thing of the past—from now on he was nothing other than her reluctant mentor.

With an effort she dragged her mind back to his question and attempted an equally polite answer. ‘A bit better, thanks. I think I’m getting used to it. It’s certainly a very smooth flight and the clouds outside the window are beautiful.’

The hard glitter of his blue eyes seemed to mock her. ‘Are you hungry?’

She shook her head. Was she going mad? Why did she feel as if they were having one conversation, with a whole completely different conversation going on underneath? ‘No. Not really.’

‘Tired, perhaps? This kind of journey is always draining. There are a couple of bedrooms at the back of the cabin and perhaps you should try to get some rest. The one on the right is quieter. Try that.’

‘Good idea,’ she said, unclipping her seat belt and rising to her feet. She told herself that sleep was essential. More importantly, it would get her away from Salvatore and the disturbing impact he was having on her senses. He probably wanted to get rid of her. For all she knew, he might be desperate to contact some woman in San Francisco and start arranging to see her the moment he arrived back. And if that were the case then she was going to have to deal with it. He’d made her no promises, had he? He’d offered her no future. And she’d been okay with that. She needed to be okay with that. He was already being generous in providing her with a flight and a home.

If she started wanting anything more, she was risking heartbreak. And she couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable like that—not when she was starting a new life in a new country.

A ridiculous feeling of self-consciousness rippled over her as she picked up her handbag and made her way towards the back of the cabin, wondering if he was watching her. And the crazy thing was that she wanted him to watch her—to run that appreciative blue gaze over her in a way which could make her hungry body quiver with longing. But he said nothing more as she left the cabin and Lina quickly went into the bathroom, where she stood for ages holding her wrists beneath a gushing tap. But no amount of cold water was able to bring down her body temperature and eventually she washed her face, brushed out her hair and decided to try and get some rest as Salvatore had suggested. Hopelessly distracted by a head full of erotic images, she walked noiselessly along the softly carpeted corridor and pushed open the bedroom door, her heart missing a beat as she walked in.

Because there was Salvatore.

He had obviously just showered because tiny droplets of water were glittering in the thickness of his jet-dark hair and he was pulling a black T-shirt down over his rippling torso. And he was wearing jeans. Black jeans which hugged the powerful length of his legs. Lina had never seen him wearing anything so casual and he looked almost shockingly sexy. A low curl of heat began coiling itself tightly inside her, round and round and round it went, the pressure building and building with each second that passed. The spring of her nipples began to push almost painfully against the lace of her bra and she wriggled her shoulders a little. It felt as if she were dissolving with desire and she swallowed as she struggled to get the words out.

‘I think... I think I may have the wrong room,’ she said.

He looked right back at her and the silence which followed seemed to go on for a very long time.

‘Not necessarily,’ he said, at last.

Lina was no expert when it came to what men wanted, but maybe she didn’t need to be. She could see a pulse flickering at his temple and the almost imperceptible tightening of his lips. His smouldering blue gaze and the unmistakable darkening of his eyes were sending out the unspoken message that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But she had been the one to make the first move last time and since then Salvatore had made it very clear that their relationship was going to be platonic. And wasn’t that the best thing? Wouldn’t that help to protect herself from the way he made her feel?

She knew what she should do. Squeeze out a polite smile and excuse herself. Find the other bedroom and stay in there until all this inconvenient desire had left her. But she couldn’t. And if that could be described as a weakness in her character—Lina didn’t care. Because she had spent most of her life being a good girl. Who could blame her if she was enjoying this tantalising feeling of being naughty?

Was that why she just continued to stand there, drinking in his magnificent body with a sexual hunger which was growing stronger by the minute? And suddenly she was getting the distinct feeling that they were each fighting some kind of private inner battle, waiting to see which of them would break first.

It was him.

With something which sounded like a helpless groan, he walked across the cabin towards her and pulled her into his arms, looking down into her face for one long and searching moment—as if seeking the answer she was sure he could read there, before bending his head and blotting out the world with his kiss. And Lina kissed him back. Hungrily. Fervently—dimly acknowledging how different it felt from the first time he’d kissed her. That time it had been all about newness and discovery and his inevitable reaction to her virginity. He had been careful with her, taking his time to extinguish every last bit of apprehension so that she had been bombarded with pleasure, over and over again.

But now he was kissing her in a way which was raw and heightened with untempered passion and suddenly Lina felt more like an equal than a novice. Hadn’t he taught her how to enjoy pleasure last night and shown her some of the things he liked? So why not show him what an attentive pupil she’d been? Boldly, she slid her hand down the front of his T-shirt, and as she began to massage the hard contours of his torso through the dark material she could hear his slow expelled breath of pleasure.

‘Take it off,’ he urged her unevenly. ‘Undress me, Lina.’

It was empowering to register that note of undisguised need in his voice. But it was nothing but lust, Lina reminded herself as she pulled the garment over his head, though he seemed reluctant to allow her trembling fingers anywhere near his jeans. Quickly, he unzipped her cotton dress and tossed it aside, though he hesitated when he saw her plain white underwear beneath. What was it about that which made his rugged face darken, as if he were having second thoughts? Lina tightened her arms around him and could feel the hard spring of his erection pressing through their clothes, and as he gave what sounded like a soft moan of surrender, everything began to happen very quickly.

Peeling off his jeans, she saw he was naked underneath and very aroused and she let out a gulp of pleasure as he took off her bra and panties and pushed her down onto the bed. Her heart slammed against her rib-cage and already she was at such a pitch of excitement that she couldn’t bear to wait for a second longer. Was that why she opened her thighs to give him access to the engorged little bud which he began to strum with sweet accuracy, making her cry out with pleasure, so that he had to kiss her into silence.

‘Salvatore,’ she moaned, against his lips.

‘More?’

She ground her hips against the mattress. ‘Yes.’

His movement became more intense, the position of his fingertip uniquely provocative.

‘I’ve been thinking about doing this ever since you left my bed this morning,’ he bit out roughly.

‘So have...so have...’ But her sentence was destined never to be finished because an orgasm had begun to clench its way through her body and Lina cried out as she began to convulse with the first of those achingly sweet spasms.

The sound seemed to galvanise him into action but he waited until her body was no longer shuddering, before reaching for a condom and stroking it on. And then he moved on top of her and pushed deep inside her, his face dark with fierce concentration. At first, his movements were slow and considered and somehow Lina realised he was waiting for her to have another orgasm before giving into his own. That first fluttering realisation gave way to a heavy beat of expectation, which kept on growing and growing until suddenly her rainbow world was splintering all over again and he was choking out his own gratification.

Afterwards, her arms tightened around him until the sound of his breathing grew less ragged. Tentatively, her tongue flicked out to taste the salt of his skin and she could feel the hardness of one hair-roughened thigh as it lay sprawled over hers. It felt intimate. Intensely intimate—as if they were the only two people in the world. As if all that perfect physicality had forged a special bond between the two of them. As if all the barriers they had both erected around themselves had just slipped away. And somehow that made what had just happened seem perfectly acceptable. Did sex always make you feel like this? she wondered dreamily as she reached out her finger to trickle it slowly down his chest. But her innocent gesture seemed to stir him into action and, even though she could have stayed like that all day, he now seemed determined to move away from her. Suddenly he was rolling onto the other side of the bed and it was as if a giant canyon had sprung up between them.

‘Is everything okay?’ she asked, before wondering if that was the kind of thing you were supposed to say at a time like this.

Salvatore heard the soft uncertainty in her voice and guessed what she wanted. She was probably craving reassurance, keen for him to offer something tangible in terms of a relationship now that they’d been intimate again. But he couldn’t do that, and what had just happened should never have happened. He felt a surge of anger, knowing he should have left well alone. He should have blocked out her intoxicating allure, which had reeled him in for all the wrong reasons. He should have sent her away to the other cabin and ignored the urgent throb at his groin which had made him lose control. Because she was wrong on so many counts. Too sweet. Too trusting. Too innocent and untried for a man with his track record of emotional coldness. He would hurt her and he had no right to hurt her, though maybe he wouldn’t tell her that. Better she think of him as indifferent, rather than understanding.

Or try to change his mind.

‘We need to get a couple of things straight before we land,’ he drawled. ‘The sex we’ve just had was amazing, for sure, but it hasn’t actually changed anything. It was just a moment of physical desire which demanded some kind of release. That’s what sometimes happens between a man and a woman. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘I think I’d have to be pretty stupid not to,’ she said.

Salvatore hesitated. He was finding this much harder than he’d expected, mainly because she looked so damned beautiful lying there, her olive limbs sprawled against the sheets with indolent abandon. But he steeled himself against the sudden bewilderment which had clouded her lovely features. ‘You’re going to be staying in my home and that’s something which has never happened before. I like my own space and the idea of a lover being around all the time fills me with dread.’

‘I suppose I should thank you for your honesty,’ she said.

‘I am nothing if not honest, Lina.’ He swung his legs over the side of the bed. ‘Up until now your life has been protected—by your mother and by the constraints of a small community. But you’re going to be living in a big city from now on and you need to learn how to protect yourself. I’m not your guardian and I’m not your boyfriend.’ His mouth twisted as he stood up and looked down at her. ‘And a naïve young woman clinging to me like a limpet has never been on my wish-list.’

‘I have no intention of behaving like a limpet,’ she said, with a sudden proud tilt of her chin.

That one simple movement was enough to stir the beginnings of another erection, and Salvatore nearly reached for her again, before stopping himself. Because Lina Vitale could so easily become a millstone around his neck—and that would be way too high a price to pay for the fleeting pleasures of sex.

A chill of awareness whispered over his skin.

She knew no one in San Francisco other than him.

Despite her undeniable sweetness and the lure of her lush body, from now on she needed to be off-limits.

He would provide her with a temporary home, yes. He would ensure she met some of his contacts so she could find herself a job. And once she had gained some independence he could filter her out of his life, for good. He could move her on, having taught her a very important lesson.

That she must never grow to depend on him.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.