Back In The Italian's Bed Read online

  ‘I came to tell you I was wrong.’

  Wrong?

  Fabrizio was the ultimate macho Italian male, confident and certain of his own infallibility. She didn’t think such a word was in his vocabulary.

  While she was trying to absorb that, he closed the space between them and suddenly his hands were there, threading his fingers through hers. She shivered as her body locked down, shocked by the depth of her response.

  ‘I was wrong not to take you with me to that family celebration.’

  Jenna bit her lip. ‘It wasn’t just about missing out on the party.’

  ‘I know. It was because I dismissed you.’ He breathed deep. ‘I hurt you, deeply, and for that I apologise, tesoro. You deserved better from me.’

  Jenna’s eyes widened as she took in his intent expression. ‘You’re right. I did.’ For a moment she hovered on the brink of hope, then made herself face reality. Overdue as it was, it wasn’t his apology she needed. ‘But I’ve moved on.’ She tried to withdraw her hands but his hold was unbreakable.

  She frowned. ‘Fabrizio?’

  ‘It was a first for me, you see, and I didn’t deal with it well.’ He laughed, the short jab of sound harsh and unsettling in the breathless room. ‘Didn’t deal with it well, now that’s an understatement! It threw me for a loop. It was all so completely new.’

  ‘Fabrizio? What are you talking about?’ Jenna had never seen him look or sound like this.

  His eyes gleamed in a way that snatched her breath.

  ‘The way you make me feel, tesoro. The way you’ve made me feel from the first, even in Venice when I missed my meeting. I saw you sitting alone at that café and I couldn’t walk past. I had to spend the day with you.’

  And the night. And every night after while the magic had lasted.

  But Jenna knew it had been an illusion. He’d reduced what they shared to just sex.

  ‘I won’t be your mistress again, Fabrizio.’ Her low voice was unsteady. She couldn’t take much more.

  ‘It’s not a mistress I want.’

  ‘Then what do you want? Forgiveness?’ Finally Jenna managed to jerk her hands free and backed away, putting space between them. ‘I accept your apology. All right? Now I want you to leave.’

  ‘I can’t.’ His voice was low and urgent. ‘I tried keeping my distance and it was the biggest mistake of my life.’ He stopped and hauled in a breath that lifted his whole chest. ‘I love you, Jenna, and I can’t hide from it anymore.’

  ‘Love?’ Her eyes stretched wide. Her heart thundered in her chest. ‘You don’t love me, Fabrizio. You don’t know the meaning of the word.’

  Sharply he nodded. ‘Sì. That was the problem.’ A wide hand gesture emphasised his words. ‘I was used to sex and simple, undemanding companionship. I wasn’t used to feelings.’ He frowned, his gaze piercing. ‘I didn’t want to admit what you made me feel, or that you meant more to me than any woman ever had.’

  ‘You had a fine way of showing it.’ Jenna told herself she wouldn’t fall for his easy words, no matter how tempting.

  He nodded and ploughed his hand back through his glossy dark hair, leaving it in gorgeous disarray. ‘I’m ashamed of that, Jenna. When my sister asked if I was bringing you to the party, there was suddenly no escaping what you meant to me. How important you were to my happiness. It hit me out of the blue and it scared the hell out of me.’

  He spun on his foot and paced across the room and back. ‘I hadn’t let myself think about it before, and when I did my first reaction was to deny it.’

  Jenna swallowed hard, trying to take in his explanation. Was it possible?

  The idea of Fabrizio floundering and scared didn’t seem real.

  ‘You called me your mistress because you were scared of me?’ She folded her arms. ‘That doesn’t seem likely.’

  He shrugged, his hands spreading. ‘It was a knee-jerk reaction. I wasn’t ready to settle down with one woman for the rest of my life.’

  Jenna stared. ‘Settle down?’ Had she missed something? ‘You never mentioned that.’ She felt dazed, as if she’d walked into a foreign place where dreams, even outrageously improbable ones, could come true.

  His lips quirked up in a smile that did outrageous things to her insides. ‘I hadn’t got to that yet. But since you mention it, I want to share my life with you, Jenna. Permanently.’

  He stepped close and lifted his hand to feather a caress across her cheek. The tenderness of that gesture threatened to make her knees collapse.

  ‘Fabrizio!’ She couldn’t prevent the needy whisper and his smile widened.

  ‘Be mine, Jenna. Marry me.’

  ‘Marry you?’ Stunned, she stared up into an expression suddenly turned serious.

  ‘Sì. All these months apart have only proved what I was too cowardly to admit before, that I love you. I can’t live without you. I want you as my wife.’ His hand slid down her arm and meshed with hers. His grip was firm but somehow sustaining.

  It took a long time to find her voice. Even the touch of his hand didn’t feel quite real as she stared up at him. ‘You want me to marry you when you can’t even introduce me to your family?’ That still stung.

  As did the glimmer of humour in his eyes. ‘Ah, about that. You’ll meet them soon enough. My assistant booked accommodation for three people. My mother and sister will be here next week, after we’ve had time to sort ourselves out.’

  ‘They’re coming here?’ It was one shock piled on another. She shook her head, trying to absorb it all.

  ‘They want to meet you. They want to help plan the wedding.’

  Jenna drew herself up, frowning. Her emotions were all over the place, indignation vying for prominence with hope, fear and disbelief. ‘You were so sure I’d say yes that you told them we were marrying?’

  ‘No, my love.’ His hand squeezed hers and her heart tumbled over, making a mockery of her doubts. How wonderful that sounded. My love. ‘I told them how I felt and that I wasn’t sure if you’d have me. My mother, being my mother, was sure I’d convince you, and decided it was time to meet her future daughter-in-law. But my sister said she was coming so she could watch me squirm. She said she hoped you’d make me work for what I wanted.’

  ‘I like the sound of your sister.’ Right now she needed an ally. Fabrizio was turning her world on its head and she was scared to believe all this was real.

  He nodded, a hint of a smile in the grooves bracketing his mouth. ‘I’m afraid you two are going to get on far too well.’

  Slowly he drew her to him, and Jenna found herself in the circle of his arms. Suddenly her indignation bled away. In truth this was exactly where she wanted to be.

  ‘I love you, Jenna. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.’

  ‘I…’ Even now, with her heart almost bursting with joy, she hesitated. ‘It’s all a bit overwhelming and sudden.’

  Fabrizio nodded, but he didn’t smile. ‘We have all the time we want. The rest of my things will arrive next week.’

  ‘More suitcases?’

  ‘And office equipment.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I plan to work from here. I’m assured you’ve got internet access. And I’d pay to rent the space. And for accommodation for my assistant. But he won’t arrive for a month. I’m taking a break from business till then.’

  Jenna gawped. Fabrizio take a break from business? It was unheard of.

  ‘You want to work from here? Run your business from a guesthouse? But I’ll be working. I’ll be busy with guests.’

  ‘Which will give me time to see to my own business.’ He paused, his voice deepening. ‘And we’ll have the nights together.’ That bass note vibrated across her flesh, making it tingle in sensual awareness.

  ‘But we’re deep in the country. Nowhere near Rome!’

  Fabrizio shrugged, his mouth pulled up at one side in the sexiest half smile she’d ever seen. ‘What does one wear in the country? You’ll have to teach me, tesoro. I suspect not my usual suits. And I will have to
insist on repairing that sorry excuse for a driveway. My poor car.’ He shook his head mournfully.

  ‘You’re serious!’ Jenna breathed in shock. ‘You really want to live here with me?’

  He nodded, hauling her close, till her body melded with his hard frame and her head rested on his shoulder. ‘I can’t let you go. Even if it takes the rest of my life for you to return my feelings. I want to be with you.’ The words rumbled up from deep within him so she felt them as well as heard them.

  ‘You don’t have to wait, Fabrizio.’ She arched back, meeting his eyes. Suddenly she was happier than she’d ever thought possible. It felt like the sunshine outdoors had somehow found a way to stream straight into her heart. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I looked up to see you at my table in Venice. I’ve never stopped loving you.’

  ‘Amore mio! You love me? You loved me since then?’ His eyes blazed, his arms tightening around her.

  Yet his expression held a hint of doubt. ‘Are you certain? After the way I treated you?’

  ‘I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.’ Standing here, in Fabrizio’s arms, was the only place she wanted to be.

  ‘I don’t deserve you.’ His voice held an unfamiliar hollow note. Never had she heard Fabrizio so self-effacing. The man she knew was always sure of himself.

  Jenna put her hand to his chest and felt the thunder of his heartbeat beneath her palm. It matched the beat of her own. ‘I love you, Fabrizio. Forever. There was never any doubt. The amazing thing is that you never realised.’

  Slowly a smile curled across his lips, driving deep grooves down his cheeks and stealing her breath, leaving her dazzled.

  ‘You make me the happiest man in Italy. In the world.’ He pulled her even closer and her knees turned to water with happiness and excitement. ‘You’ll marry me?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought as far ahead as marriage, but—’

  ‘But you will let me persuade you, sì?’ His grin was pure triumphant, sexy male and she melted a little in his hold.

  ‘I’ll look forward to that,’ she murmured, knowing already that it was precisely what she wanted.

  ‘So will I, carissima.’ Then his head dipped till their lips met and Jenna gave up thinking. There was plenty of time for that later. A lifetime of it, together.

  THE END

  If you enjoyed ‘BACK IN THE ITALIAN’S BED’

  you might also enjoy Annie’s novel

  ‘ CAPTIVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT’

  Out of the limelight...

  Domenico Volpe has been a paparazzi target for years with his rugged Roman looks, glamorous lifestyle and, most recently, a family tragedy. Now that the woman at the center of it all is released from prison, he'll do whatever it takes to keep her quiet.

  And into the fire!

  Domenico ensures that Lucy Knight "accepts" his offer of refuge on his well-guarded offshore estate. While the media furor abates on the mainland, things are heating up on the island! Domenico is beginning to doubt Lucy's guilt as he uncovers the innocent, sensual woman behind the tough facade....

  Read on for an excerpt.

  Excerpt from ‘Captive in the Spotlight’

  Copyright © 2013 by Annie West

  Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.

  THE CAMERA CREWS parted. There, striding towards her was the man she’d expected never to see again: Domenico Volpe, shouldering through the rabble, eyes locked on her. He seemed oblivious to the snapping shutters as the cameras went into overdrive and newsmen gabbled into microphones.

  He wore a grey suit with the slightest sheen, as if it were woven from black pearls. His shirt was pure white, his tie perfection in dark silk.

  He looked the epitome of Italian wealth and breeding. Not a wrinkle marred his clothes or the elegant lines of his face. Only his eyes, boring into hers, spoke of something less than cool control.

  A spike of heat plunged right through her belly as she held his eyes.

  He stopped before her and Lucy had to force herself not to crane her head to look up at him. Instead she focused on the hand he held out to her.

  The paper crackled as she took it.

  Come with me. The words were in slashing black ink on a page from a pocketbook. I can get you away from this. You’ll be safe.

  Her head jerked up.

  ‘Safe?’ With him?

  He nodded. ‘Yes.’

  Around them journalists craned to hear. One tried to snatch the note from Lucy’s hand. She crumpled it in her fist.

  It was mad. Bizarre. He couldn’t want to help her. Yet she wasn’t fool enough to think she could stay here. Trouble was brewing and she’d be at the centre of it.

  Still she hesitated. This close, Lucy was aware of the strength in those broad shoulders, in that tall frame and his square olive-skinned hands. Once that blatant male power had left her breathless. Now it threatened.

  But if he’d wanted to harm her physically he’d have found a way long before this.

  He leaned forward. She stiffened as his whispered words caressed her cheek. ‘Word of a Volpe.’

  He withdrew, but only far enough to look her in the eye. He stood in her personal space, his lean body warming her and sending ripples of a tension through her.

  She knew he was proud. Haughty. Loyal. A powerful man. A dangerously clever one. But everything she’d read, and she’d read plenty, indicated he was a man of his word. He wouldn’t sully his ancient family name or his pride by lying.

  She hoped.

  Jerkily she nodded.

  ‘Va bene.’ He eased the case from her white-knuckled grip and turned, propelling her through the crowd with his palm at her back, its heat searing through her clothes.

  Questions rang out but Domenico Volpe ignored them. With his support Lucy rallied and managed not to stumble. Then suddenly there was blissful space, a cordon of security men, the open limousine door.

  This time Lucy needed no urging. She scrambled in and settled herself on the far side of the wide rear seat.

  The door shut behind him and the car accelerated away before she’d gathered herself.

  ‘My bag!’

  ‘It’s in the trunk. Quite safe.’

  Safe. There it was again. The word she’d never associated with Domenico Volpe.

  Slowly Lucy turned. She was exhausted, weary beyond imagining after less than an hour at the mercy of the paparazzi, but she couldn’t relax, even in this decadently luxurious vehicle.

  Deep-set grey eyes met hers. This time they looked stormy rather than glacial. Lucy was under no illusions he wanted her here, with him. Despite the nonchalant stretch of his long legs, crossed at the ankles, there was tightness in his shoulders and jaw.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘To rescue you from the press.’

  Lucy shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘No?’ One dark eyebrow shot up towards his hairline. ‘You call me a liar?’

  ‘If you’d been interested in rescuing me you’d have done it years ago when it mattered. But you dropped me like a hot potato.’

  Her words sucked the oxygen from the limousine, leaving a heavy, clogging atmosphere of raw emotion. Lucy drew a deep breath, uncaring that he noted the agitated rise and fall of her breasts as she struggled for air.

  ‘You’re talking about two different things.’ His tone was cool.

  ‘You think?’ She paused. ‘You’re playing semantics. The last thing you want is to rescue me.’

  ‘Then let us say merely that your interests and mine coincide this time.’

  ‘How?’ She leaned forward, as if a closer view would reveal the secrets he kept behind that patrician façade of calm. ‘I can’t see what we have in common.’

  He shook his head, turning more fully. Lucy became intensely aware of the strength hidden behind that tailored suit as his shoulders blocked her view of the street.

  A jitter of curious sensation sped down her backbone and curled deep within. It disturbed her.
>
  ‘Then you have an enviably short memory, Ms Knight. Even you can’t deny we’re linked by a tie that binds us forever, however much I wish it otherwise.’

  ‘But that’s-’

  ‘In the past?’ His lip curled in a travesty of a smile. ‘Yet it’s a truth I live with every day.’ His eyes glowed, luminous with emotions she’d once thought him too cold to feel. His voice deepened to a low, bone-melting hum. ‘Nothing will ever take away the fact that you killed my brother.’

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  Look for Annie’s other titles

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