At The Italian's Bidding (A Hot Italian Nights Novella Book 5) Read online

  A chance encounter with free-spirited Amber Moncrieff leads to a white-hot affair. But even as he becomes dangerously addicted to her passion and sweetness, he tells himself he can still walk away.

  A gift of love…

  Amber knows Aurelio doesn’t do long term. Any emotional involvement with the enigmatic, sexy-as-hell Italian promises nothing but disaster. But her stubborn, generous heart has other ideas.

  When their love affair has unexpected consequences, Amber beards the reclusive tycoon in his winery. Surely they can be friends, if only for the sake of their unborn child. She knows better than to ask for more. Yet as she peels back the layers of mystery surrounding Aurelio and learns about his shattered past, how can she steel herself against falling for the brooding Italian?

  Can she break the ice around his heart and convince him to love again? If not for her sake, then for their child’s?

  And there are more Hot Italian Nights stories to come.

  Or you may enjoy my longer books.

  ABOUT ANNIE

  * * *

  Growing up in Australia, I didn’t ride a kangaroo to school but I did acquire valuable survival skills like what to do when faced with a venomous snake or caught in a dangerous ocean rip. As the dangers of ocean swimming involved close observation of tall, burnished surf life savers, you could say I began researching early to become a romance writer.

  I’ve been a reader almost as long as I can remember and the idea of being without a book sends a chill down my spine. In my teens I got hooked on romance and never looked back.

  I found my own tall, dark romantic hero while at university. After a surprisingly interesting career in the public service I found myself with young children and a burning desire to do what I’d always secretly dreamed – write romance rather than government reports. I’ve been writing ever since. Along the way I’ve won a number of awards, including the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award and the Australian Romance Writers’ Romantic Book of the Year. I’m also a multiple USA Today Bestselling Author.

  I live with my hero and family at Lake Macquarie, north of Sydney, Australia. We’re close to the Hunter Valley’s marvellous wine country, superb beaches and the beautiful lake.

  My favourite things are books, travel, long walks, good company and great food. I get to spend my days fantasising about gorgeous men and their love lives, which can be hard work, but I have no regrets. There’s nothing better than that sigh-worthy moment when your hero and heroine finally get their happy ending, or when a reader contacts you to say they loved your story too.

  Excerpt From ‘Back in the Italian’s Bed’

  * * *

  Copyright Annie West

  ‘Welcome, Signor Armati.’

  Fabrizio strode past the bowing lawyer and into the conference room of his Rome headquarters. His eyes locked with those of his rival on the far side of the vast table.

  Luca De Laurentis. The man had been snapping at his heels for years and just twelve months ago had beaten him to the lucrative Palermo deal. He’d been a thorn in Fabrizio’s side for too long.

  Satisfaction stirred. At last their cat and mouse game neared its end and he, Fabrizio Armati, would emerge the victor. He tasted triumph on his tongue. After the trying six months he’d had, the promise of success had never been so sweet.

  ‘De Laurentis.’ He nodded, noting the glint in his competitor’s eye, as if ready for battle. Much good it would do him. Fabrizio’s team had the deal sewn up to his complete satisfaction. He intended to leave the room with everything he wanted.

  ‘Armati.’ De Laurentis inclined his head and settled in his seat, surrounded by dark-suited minions.

  Fabrizio took the chair reserved for him at the head of his own entourage and leaned back, ready to enjoy himself.

  It was as his chief lawyer opened the sheaf of contracts on the table that Fabrizio felt a ripple of disquiet, a feather of awareness along his nape. The blood in his veins tingled. His nostrils flared as if scenting some half-forgotten fragrance. His skin tightened.

  Slowly, casually, he turned from the papers and swept his gaze over the opposition ranks. Half-familiar faces were already frowning over the latest proposals. Grey hair, balding heads, De Laurentis’s carefully groomed dark hair, more forgettable faces and then, at the back, half-obscured by the men in front, a face he’d never forget.

  Jenna MacDonald.

  His shuffle of the papers before him cloaked a swift intake of breath.

  The ripple of disquiet became a sizzle of pure fire, searing through his blood and igniting a fury he’d barely managed to contain in twenty-six weeks.

  Twenty-six weeks since he’d seen her.

  Six months since he’d opened that trite little note.

  One hundred and eighty-two days since he’d left her sleeping in his bed, her hair catching the dawn light like gold caught the sun.

  Fabrizio’s lip curled in a snarl of indignation. Never in his life had he counted the days with a woman. But he knew precisely how long he’d been without Jenna MacDonald.

  She was the only woman in thirty-three years to walk away from him.

  Maledizione! To find her here of all places, after he’d sent his investigators overseas to locate her!

  He firmed his mouth into a hard line. What game was this?

  He took in her sleek hair, pulled back from her exquisite face. Those siren’s lips in glossy carmine. The charcoal jacket that plunged low over a silky cream camisole. The way her throat worked as she swallowed.

  Fabrizio’s eyes narrowed as he saw her pulse flutter. She was nervous.

  So she damned well should be! She was lucky he didn’t stalk over there and haul her out into the open rather than let her skulk among De Laurentis’s yes men.

  As if sensing his stare, her eyes flicked up and caught on his. The impact of that aquamarine gaze carved a familiar hollow through his chest.

  Fury, he assured himself.

  Anger at her betrayal.

  Righteous affront at being left by his lover without explanation.

  He was the one who decided when a relationship was over.

  The buzzing in his ears resolved into a conversation that slowed as one face after another turned to him, eyes expectant. He blinked and tried to make sense of what De Laurentis said, aware of the other man’s curiosity.

  Ruthlessly Fabrizio sliced his gaze from hers and focused on the business at hand. If De Laurentis had any idea of using Jenna MacDonald to distract him, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, her presence incited a bloodlust for victory unlike any he’d known.

  Fabrizio let his lips curve in a lethal smile and delivered his first salvo.

  Fortunately he was the only one in the crowded room aware that he gave the crucial negotiations just half his attention. The other half lingered over plans for his faithless ex-lover.

  The negotiations passed in a blur for Jenna.

  Concentrating on the rapid-fire back and forth exchange was beyond her, despite her now excellent Italian. She refused to blush at the memory of how it came to be so good. To gain fluency in a language, they said you should take a native speaker as a lover.

  Her throat closed over a shocking surge of hysterical laughter as she watched the man on the other side of the table effortlessly dominate the proceedings. She hadn’t taken Fabrizio as a lover. He’d taken her.

  One chance look across the crowded café in Saint Mark’s Square.

  One hour of conversation with a black-haired stranger over minuscule coffee cups and delicious sweet pastries. She’d been oblivious of tourists and pigeons and everything but the hot silver of his eyes and the approving curve of his thin, sculpted lips as he coaxed her into conversation.

  One afternoon letting him guide her through his Venice, to secret places few tourists ever saw, from crumbling, ancient beauty to modern luxury, the taste of delicious seafood and the sensation of the sea breeze in her hair as they watched the sun set in a fiery glow.

  One even
ing of fairy-tale perfection that had made her feel like Cinderella finding her prince. Except there’d been no running away at midnight. Instead there’d been a night of seduction, passion, bliss, unlike anything she’d ever known.

  One night was all it had taken for her to lose her heart and put her career plans on hold now her internship at a plush Venetian hotel was over.

  One night had led to another and another, until she was installed in Fabrizio Armati’s Roman palazzo as his lover.

  No, not his lover. He’d finally made that cruelly clear. His mistress. His disposable mistress, not good enough to claim a place in his rarefied world.

  The pain of that rejection had cleaved her heart. Alone in the world, she’d poured everything of herself into their relationship, believing she’d found her soul mate.

  Jenna blinked, trying to focus on the intense discussion around her rather than the slash of raw pain through her middle. She’d been primed for this meeting, though surprised at her inclusion among the corporate lawyers and strategists.

  ‘It’s agreed, then,’ her boss, Luca De Laurentis, said. ‘We’ll meet again once the amendments are drafted. In the meantime I look forward to a personal inspection of the Florentine property before we sign.’

  She breathed a sigh of relief, realising the negotiations hadn’t required her input after all. Tension wound her so tight, she wasn’t sure she’d have found her voice.

  ‘As I look forward to viewing the Amalfi estate.’ A flash of bright steel pinioned her as Fabrizio’s eyes narrowed on her across the room. Immediately Jenna lifted her chin. He had no hold over her. If she told herself often enough, she might even come to believe it.

  Chairs scraped back and everyone stood. Everyone except Fabrizio. Jenna yanked her gaze away, refusing to give in to temptation and watch him. She grabbed her briefcase and turned with her colleagues towards the door.

  ‘One last thing.’ That familiar voice cut like a honed blade through soft flesh. ‘I have limited time available. I’ll have a briefing on the Villa Bellini now before my site visit.’

  ‘As you wish. Ms MacDonald can provide all the details you need.’ Luca De Laurentis caught Jenna’s eye and smiled. ‘Jenna, come and see me in my office when you’ve finished with Signor Armati.’

  Finished with Signor Armati.

  Jenna gritted her teeth, wishing she had finished with him once and for all.

  She pasted on a smile for Signor De Laurentis. ‘Of course, sir.’

  Slowly the room emptied. She was aware of Fabrizio indicating that his staff should go too. And still she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. It took all the willpower she had to stand her ground. Six months and still her heart wrenched at the sight of him.

  Finally she mastered herself, placing her briefcase on the gleaming table. It snicked open and she pulled out her neat précis of the Villa’s details as well as her tablet, ready to answer every question about the gracious old hotel.

  When there was nothing else to distract her she took a deep breath and lifted her head, only to fall into that molten pewter stare that once had so effortlessly bewitched her.

  Now it held no softness, just the threat of retribution.

  Find BACK IN THE ITALIAN’S BED

  at Amazon.