Irresistible Bachelors: The Count of Castelfino / Secretary by Day, Mistress by Night / Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

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‘I’m still not quite sure what you’re saying…’ she ventured, and then tried to make a nervous joke out of the situation. ‘I mean, it’s not as though you’re about to pull out an engagement ring, is it? ‘As she looked up at him her gaze was steady, totally unlike the unruly thunder of her heart.

‘Of course not—but you’re on the right track. You must know what I’m about to propose?’ Gianni looked at her closely. Beneath the dozens of tiny coloured lights his eyes were as bright as polished jet, but they dimmed as he realised she had no idea what he was talking about. ‘So…you’re telling me you have no idea what’s on offer?’ he said slowly.

Meg shook her head. Watching him, it became obvious that his natural good manners were fighting a losing battle with something wild and untameable. He looked up and down the shadowy greenhouse. As he did so he rolled his lower lip over his bottom teeth, holding back some remark. Meg watched him suffer until she couldn’t stand it any longer.

‘What is it, Gianni?’ she asked softly.

‘I want you to be perfectly clear what I have in mind for you, Megan. It isn’t marriage. That is an entirely different contract. And don’t even think about love. I’m incapable of that.’

Meg’s heart began to race so fast she could hear it. She ought to run—hide, do anything but stay with a man who was about to tempt her beyond all endurance. Whatever Gianni said now, she was lost. One way or another, she was about to surrender her whole future to him. She looked up at him in spellbound fascination, not knowing whether to smile or escape while she still could.

He carried on in a low, level voice. ‘In my world, marriage is a dry legal process: it’s entirely about inheritance and money. It’s nothing to do with the way a man needs a woman. It deals only in cold, hard common sense. When I marry, Megan, it will be for the sake of dynasty and ambition. I shall marry an Italian woman who can bring even more wealth and status into the Bellini fold. A man like me finds his pleasures outside that old institution.’ His voice dwindled to a whisper. Meg leaned forward, trying to catch his words. Gianni moved in to meet her. His right hand now strayed up to stroke her cheek with a touch as light as thistledown. ‘On the other hand, when it comes to choosing a mistress I can afford to look much further afield. And I’ve chosen you, Megan.’

She had to be dreaming. Gianni’s hand idled up to her hair, and then down again, revelling in its silken smoothness. Afraid he might stop if she moved, she stood as still as a statue. Only when he continued his downward exploration, reaching her waist and drawing her in towards his body, did she dare to think it might really be happening. Moulding into the warm, solid power of him felt like the most natural thing in the world.

‘You showed me when you first arrived that you’re a woman who can stand up for herself,’ he went on, ‘and I respect that. But if you’re going to try and resist me, Megan, I should warn you that no woman has ever succeeded.’

Meg gazed up at him, unblinking. She could believe it. She waited, and then realised he was waiting, too. It was an invitation for her to try and defy his words. She couldn’t do it. For long, agonising seconds she floated in the dark depths of Gianni’s gaze. They both knew that once the tiny distance between them was breached, there could be no going back.

‘There’s a first time for everything,’ Meg managed eventually. Her voice was nothing more than a breathless whisper.

Gianni lowered his long dark lashes and slowly nodded his head. ‘And forbidden fruits taste sweetest,’ he reminded her.

She looked up sharply. It sounded as though he had guessed her secret, and with it the real meaning behind her words. The wicked smile dancing around his lips suggested that discovery would make her all the more desirable.

‘I want you, Megan,’ he whispered.

His honeyed words trickled through her body like warm water. Her hands gripped his arms. In that instant his mouth clamped over hers. It was firm and possessive, a reassurance that took away all her fears and common sense at the same time. Meg knew this was mad, dangerous and totally wrong, but for once in her life she didn’t care. She simply relaxed into his embrace and let his passion engulf her. It was far too wonderful to resist, but she knew she had to make a token effort.

‘We can’t, Gianni. I can’t.’

Sliding one hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face. First he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. Then the need to kiss her properly again overwhelmed him. Meg was powerless to stop him, but when he lifted his lips gently from hers a second time he murmured, ‘Of course we can. When I show you how good it can be you’ll never want another man.’

‘I know…oh, how I know…’ Her voice was drifting away with the last of her self-control but there was something he had to know. ‘But, Gianni…I can’t, really. I don’t know how. I’ve only had one serious relationship, and that ended because he tried to come between me and my work. What I’m trying to say is…I don’t know how to love.’ She finished in a rush. Gianni froze, and began to pull away from her. When her hands clenched convulsively on his sleeves, he stopped.

‘Are you saying you’re scared, Megan? That I’m frightening you?’

‘No! Nothing could be further from the truth.’

Gianni took her gently in his arms again. This time he cradled her as though she were crafted from finest porcelain.

‘Then what is to stop us having the very best of times? You have no need to worry about love where I’m concerned. I don’t know what the word means, either. Certainly, I’ve never seen it in action.’

She pressed her face against the crisp white warmth of his shirt, desperate to hide her embarrassment. Kissing him felt so right, but in all the wrong ways. She was a virgin, with nothing to offer an experienced man of the world. She wasn’t qualified for making love with him once, let alone agreeing to be his mistress! ‘This is wonderful, Gianni, but as for taking it any further…I’ve got no experience…’

‘Ah-h-h…’ he murmured, his hands beginning a slow dance over the smooth silk of her dress. ‘So you’re a virgin?’

‘It’s a bit old-fashioned, I know, but s-sex has never happened for me.’ She had difficulty saying the word. ‘I was always too busy…I did have a long-term boyfriend, but every time he threatened to come between me and my studies, I backed off,’ she whispered into the warm confessional of his arms.

‘Then that is what I must do now, mio dolce,’ he said softly.

That was a shock; it hurt desperately to hear his rejection. ‘No! Why?’ She looked up at him in anguish.

‘You mustn’t take a life changing decision in the space of a few seconds,’ he warned, but she was determined.

‘If only you knew, Gianni. I’ve waited so long for this experience, and passed up so many opportunities. My focus was always on something else, but now it’s my turn to make a decision. I want experience. I want to know what it’s like to live as other people do. When I watch you with women, you all seem to be members of some wonderful secret society. I’m sentenced always to be an outsider. I need a taste of real life, Gianni. I’ve spent years concentrating on my work. Now I want you to be the man who shows me what I’ve been missing!’

He was quiet for a moment, while his fingertips danced delicately over her back.

‘Are you sure?’ he said at last.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Gianni. Take me,’ she whispered simply.

Outside in the dusk a nightingale poured out its heart in an ecstasy of song. Acting on visceral instinct, Gianni dipped his head and touched his lips to her neck. Meg gasped, revelling in the experience. It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. He wanted to go on enjoying the anticipation of what was to come, but the temptation was too great. Suddenly he was kissing her with more power and passion than she had experienced in her whole life. His tongue urged into her mouth. She let him explore with a relish that had been building since the moment they first met. This felt so right. For the first time in months—years—she was free to put herself first. She had been waiting for so long. Her needs and desires surged in a tumble of excitement. Her hands went up to his head, clawing at his hair to pull him closer. Hungry for his kisses, she was desperate for his attention. His fingertips felt hot through the thin silk of her dress. They circled over her back, ran up and down over her ribs with the sweet certainty of possession. Meg undulated beneath him until the soft pale skin of her inner thigh was rubbing against his leg. It brought back all the turmoil his caresses had as they danced. Now they could release all that pent up passion in one wild moment. She threw back her head with a gasp.

‘Oh, Gianni…’ she called out, and he was there to answer her cry.

‘Good, isn’t it?’ he purred. The low resonance of his voice was so delicious she could almost taste him.

‘Don’t stop…please, don’t stop…’

‘Don’t worry, mio tesoro, I’m not going to…’ His hands roamed over her willing body. His kisses worked their way up from her cleavage and over her neck.

‘And now…to make sure you really are as eager as you say, undress me.’ The words were growled into her hair. Tentatively, Meg’s hands went to the tiny pearl buttons of his shirt. As it fell open, the warm fragrance of his body tantalised her into diving her hands inside, encircling his waist with her hands. Leaning her head against his chest, she pressed her cheek against the soft fur covering it. For longer than either of them realised they clung together in the dappled darkness. Then Gianni’s hands stroked her dress up until he could reach the hem. From there he peeled it off over her head in one fluid movement. With it went her last inhibition. She stood before him proudly wearing nothing more than a few scraps of silk and lace.

He smiled.

‘You are lovely,’ he breathed.

Meg closed her mind to thoughts of how many other women he had spoken to like this. Tonight, he was hers. None of his yesterdays mattered. She could only focus on this moment, suspended in time among bowers of tropical luxury. She didn’t care about the shadows. For now a thousand tiny coloured lights illuminated her life.

‘This is going to be the best ever…’ Gianni whispered, in his element. ‘You will be totally mine.’

His gaze now went deeper than mere sexual gratification. He had taken plenty of women in his life, but none had given themselves to him so freely and so willingly. He smiled to himself, fuelled by more than a hint of pride. The experiences she shared with him tonight would colour the rest of her life. She would measure any other man against him—

All of a sudden a frown flitted across his face. For some strange reason, he found the idea of Meg in the arms of any other man unthinkable.

‘You can never be anything more than a mistress to me, remember,’ he reminded her, caressing the sleek beauty of her hair. ‘There can be no strings on either side.’

‘I can’t think of anything more unlikely than a tethered Gianni.’ She chuckled, her voice rich with meaning.

Excitement burned in her eyes. His body sprang to life at the sight of it.

‘You’d better believe it,’ he growled, rising to the challenge.

Teasing her mouth with his lips, he fed her hunger with his own. She wrapped herself around his body, eager for the penetration of his tongue. The questing point thrust into the accepting softness of her mouth, blocking her moans of pleasure. As Gianni kissed her his hands roamed over the back of her head, twining into her thick silky mane of hair. Meg felt a rising pulse throbbing between them. It was him, it was her, it was both of them, melding in a frisson of excitement. Light-headed with arousal, she ground herself against his body in an ecstasy of anticipation. Gianni responded by trailing his touch down around the curve of her shoulder to mould her breasts with his hands. As his thumbs brushed her nipples a tightening low in her belly pulled breath deep into her lungs. She needed him. Reaching down, she returned his caresses by tracing the shape of his maleness through the soft fabric of his clothes.

Taking her hand, he drew her down gently to the soft mossy bed among the flowers. ‘This will be like making love in heaven,’ he murmured, his voice thick and low as he released her from his embrace. ‘And I shall make it heaven for you.’

Dragging off his shirt, he threw it aside. The sudden movement stirred the soft darkness of his curls into a tousle that Meg could not resist. She stretched out her hand to it. Gianni instantly buried his cheek against her palm, covering the inside of her wrist with a flutter of butterfly kisses. Pleasure danced in her eyes as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and she saw his arousal springing from the soft luxuriance of his body hair.

‘Now you’re the one who is overdressed, carissima!’ he purred softly. Meg trembled from head to foot. Her fingers stumbled to help him, but he stopped her. ‘No—this pleasure will be mine.’

With a teasing smile, he slid his strong brown fingers between her skin and the thin straps of her bra. Pulling them down over her shoulders, he exposed the glory of her breasts. Meg blossomed under his appreciative gaze. When he closed in on her lips again she moved forward, eager for his touch. As his fingers strayed down to the waistband of her panties she gasped. With infinite gentleness he traced the lace around her waist and over her hips. When his fingers finally insinuated themselves between the wisp of fabric and her skin, she gasped again. A throb of excitement was building up between her thighs. With a moan she felt him ease her panties down, leaving her naked before him.

‘And now the teasing has to stop…’

Every inch of her skin was alight with desire for him. Liquid longing spilled from her body as his fingers spread over her flanks and swept around to caress the sweet soft cleft of her sex. Meg’s breath locked in her chest. Driven by an instinct so basic she barely realised what she was doing, she reached out to encircle his erection. Hand over hand she caressed him until he shuddered with a life force as irresistible as her own.

‘Not yet,’ he growled, pulling her hands away. She moulded her body against his, half delirious with desire. In reply he pressed the length of his body to her nakedness and she gasped in a tumult of longing.

‘You must be quite sure—there can be no regrets,’ he warned.

‘No. As long as this is what you want, too, Gianni.’

He drew back a little, the usual teasing amusement dancing in his eyes.

‘Can’t you tell? Perhaps I should be asking you the same question!’ His touch danced over her erect nipples. ‘Although the reactions of your body tell me all I need to know…’

She cried out with pleasure as his fingers swooped down to slide along the crease of her femininity. A million stars exploded over her delicate rose-pink flesh as he sought her clitoris and rolled its tiny bead beneath his fingers with expert delicacy. Her body rose to meet him, pressing upwards against his touch. She was trapped in the promise of his eyes. With tigerish concentration he drew his hand up and over her belly again, resting it there as his other hand drew her face towards his for another long, lingering kiss. She wriggled still closer to him, so eager for the touch of his body against every inch of her skin. He drew shudders of pleasure from her again and again as his kisses traced a line over her throat and across the creamy softness of her breasts. Desire bubbled in her throat and powered through her veins until she felt weak with longing. As his tongue rolled over her nipple, teasing it to a peak of perfection, she locked her fingers in his hair and cradled his head closer to her breasts. The warm glide of his hand swam over her body and she felt her legs part, enticing him further. The dense, soft curls hiding her sex nestled beneath his hand, filling it with warmth. She had known desire before, but never like this. No temptation had brought her to such heights, submerging everything beneath her naked desires. Gianni’s thumb nuzzled against the point of her clitoris again and she cried out with longing. His eyes were alight with a fire that burned as brightly as her passion. Mewing wordless arousal, she vibrated with the touch of his fingers. She was desperate with need. It sent her rolling over the bed of flowers with wild abandon.

Gianni was on fire. Meg was unlike any other woman he had ever known. She was so pure, and yet he could inspire all these feral reactions in her. It made her perfect in his eyes, and beneath his body, too. His finger sought out the tender tip of her femininity, circling it until she glistened with pleasure.

‘I need to see you—every part of you…’ he said thickly, lifting her thighs to rest on his shoulders. As the roughness of his stubble grazed her thin skin he tasted her arousal. It was indescribably good. He had to experience her with all his senses, her rich perfume powering him to still greater heights. He bent his head, running the tip of his tongue the whole length of her swollen creases. Plump with desire, her body spread eagerly beneath his touch. Impassioned cries tore from her throat as she begged and pleaded with him to bring her to a climax. The desire to penetrate her overwhelmed him in a rush of male need. Easing his finger into her, he felt spasms of pleasure grip him again and again. His whole body reverberated with the thought that soon, very soon, she would seize the most sensitive part of his body with the same powerful movements. His heart went into overdrive and a slick of sweat broke out all over his body but he wanted to take his time. Drawing his long, lean finger back even as she clenched down on him, he insinuated a second finger into her willing body. Never had a woman responded to him so eagerly. Her hips thrust against his penetration in a rhythmic dance he longed to complete. Squealing with excitement, she arched her body, working her way beneath him as he pulled her closer. His muscles throbbed with the pressure of restraint as he forced himself to go slowly, extending the pleasure for them both. As the proud swell of his erection finally sought out her yielding warmth he felt her muscles open around him and then close with the pressure of ultimate pleasure. Suddenly, madly, penetration wasn’t enough. He wanted all she could give him and more. She was worthy of everything he could give her. In a wild ecstasy of realisation he filled her with every passion he was capable of experiencing. She responded with a primeval cry of pleasure that excited him beyond endurance. This was it, and as he held her in his arms he knew she realised it too.

Chapter Seven (#ulink_cfacc6ff-f7a3-5e20-b86b-02bdeaf44fd0)

IN THAT moment, Gianni’s life began again. He was used to having the world. Now, with Meg as his mistress, nothing in the universe was out of his reach. The lovely little virgin he had lusted after was now his mistress. The responsibility gave him satisfaction as welcome as his physical release. The moment she went limp in his arms, he picked her up and carried her back through the garden. Taking her through the silent, watchful villa, he laid her gently in his own bed. There they entwined again and again until dawn coloured the skies.

Meg became his consuming interest. No woman had cast such a spell over him before. Her body was sheer magic. From then on, he made love to her at every opportunity. He took her into his bed each night, although it meant he got virtually no sleep. Even when she slept he woke a dozen times a night, simply for the pleasure of reaching out and touching her as she lay beside him. When the praise and orders flowed in after his magnificent banquet, Gianni let his army of personal assistants deal with everything. For the first time in his working life, routine was forgotten. Nothing was allowed to get between Gianni and his ultimate pleasure.

One morning they were lying in bed together, entwined in the warm afterglow of lovemaking. Gianni’s fingers were describing lazy circles on Meg’s shoulder as she gazed across to the open French doors. The warming dawn air gently moved the white gauzes draped on either side, giving tantalising glimpses of the blue, misty hillside beyond. The twitter of swallows clustering on sagging, swinging power lines was the only sound in the dreamy warmth of his arms. Meg sighed.

‘What’s the matter, tesoro?’

‘Nothing, really…I was only thinking that what you’ve told me about your life makes you sound like one of those birds. They’re always on the move. Until I came here to the Villa Castelfino I’d never been outside of England. My feet were always firmly rooted in my home patch, either waiting for the first swallow to arrive in spring or watching them all getting ready to leave in autumn, like they are today.’

Gianni stopped stroking her. Raising his head, he looked at her quizzically. ‘You mean to tell me that my new International Coordinator of Horticulture hasn’t been anywhere more exotic than Tuscany?’

Meg shook her head. With a smile of perfect bliss she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms more tightly around the expanse of his chest. ‘I don’t need to, either. I’ve got everything I want, right here.’

‘Yes…’

Gianni sounded thoughtful. Meg opened her eyes. That single word had a worrying note of qualification about it. From the first heady moment of his kiss, her mind had spun fantasies, possibilities and now the fantastic reality of being his mistress. But Meg was painfully aware that her position came with a rigid sell-by date. No matter how lost in luxury she might be, she could not afford to miss the signs that her time was running out. Walking the line between delight and disaster made her sensitive to his every mood.

‘That is…for as long as this arrangement suits us both,’ she said, careful to sound as unsentimental as Gianni always did. ‘I get to network with your international clientele and show off my skills to them—’

‘While I get you,’ he said succinctly, delivering a loud kiss to the top of her head.

Meg smiled—almost. She had noticed that Gianni was only spontaneous when she couldn’t see his expression. He was always more passionate in darkness than in daylight. When, as now, her face was pressed against his chest she had to rely on the vibration of his diaphragm to discover when he was laughing silently. She raised her head quickly, but he was an expert in hiding his feelings. His face showed nothing but the warm satisfaction that had become his trademark since their first night among the tropical flowers.

‘Were you laughing at me?’

‘Never,’ he said in a way that did not convince her for a second. ‘Although you must admit, mio dolce, an expert on tropical plants—no matter how well qualified—who has done all her learning from textbooks ought to spread her wings before she can call herself truly experienced…’ he stretched out the syllables with a relish that didn’t need explaining. As he smoothed away her frown with kisses she couldn’t help smiling despite her private fears.

Outside a hawk streaked into the flock of swallows, sending them screaming in all directions. Meg started at the noise, but Gianni’s hand gently stroked away her fears.

‘That was why I was going to take you away from all this for a while. Madeira has everything we need. Luxury and opportunities, all set in a sea of flowers. What do you say?’

A paradise island, with the chance to have Gianni all to herself for a while without the daily distraction of his work? There was only one thing she could say. Tipping back her head, she gave him a long, lingering kiss before murmuring:

‘That’s fantastic. When do we leave?’

Her delight lasted only a few hours. While Gianni was in the shower she borrowed his laptop, ready to surf the Internet. The first page she opened on Madeira fluttered with a banner announcing it to be ’the perfect honeymoon isle’. That headline meant only one thing to her—disaster. She slumped back in her seat, staring at the screen. With an advertising line like that, the place was sure to be full of couples. Married couples. That would be the last thing he would want to see. Closing down the computer, she walked slowly across the bedroom, towards the en suite. Gianni was in the wet room. Instead of slipping into the shower with him, she paused outside, deep in thought. It was only when he turned off the monsoon downpour they both loved so much that he realised she was watching him. He chuckled. The sound was low with testosterone. It fuelled her own arousal as he murmured, ‘Can’t you wait, pretty one?’

Stepping forward, he took her in his arms. Pressing his wet body against her filmy, sheer negligee, he soaked her in seconds. Feeling his manhood spring impressively to life against the smooth plane of her belly, Meg wavered. It would be so easy, so lovely to suspend real life and let him carry her off to bed again, but she felt bound to question him first.