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Surrendering To The Italian's Command
KIM LAWRENCE
Seduction in the palazzo!Ever since a horrific accident for which he blames himself, Danilo Raphael has kept himself closed-off and emotion-free. But when he sees English rose Tess Jones being attacked, he cannot quell his protective instincts, and offers her sanctuary…in his imposing Tuscan palazzo.Tess Jones may be a virgin, but she knows what she wants in a man, and this autocratic Italian, no matter how darkly sexy, isn’t it! But as hot, summer days melt into sultry nights, Tess finds herself surrendering to Danilo. Their passion changes Tess irrevocably, but she must leave unless Danilo surrenders the past that holds him back…
Seduction in the palazzo!
Ever since a horrific accident for which he blames himself, Danilo Raphael has remained closed off and emotion-free. But when he sees English rose Tess Jones being attacked, he cannot quell his protective instincts and offers her sanctuary...in his imposing Tuscan palazzo.
Tess Jones may be a virgin, but she knows what she wants in a man, and this autocratic Italian, no matter how darkly sexy, isn’t it! But as hot summer days melt into sultry nights, Tess finds herself surrendering to Danilo. Their passion changes Tess irrevocably, but she must leave unless Danilo relinquishes the past that holds him back...
‘Ever since you arrived here—’
Danilo stopped abruptly, as if he could not force the words past the thickening atmosphere that quivered with tension. It made her think of that stillness before a storm. She was always overpoweringly conscious of his physical presence, his raw masculinity, but now that awareness had jumped.
Tess’s pulse leapt as she struggled to drag her eyes from the muscle that was clenching and unclenching in his cheek.
His voice was so deep it was barely more than a whisper. His expression made every cell in her body want to run away. But for some reason by the time the message reached her brain it said something different. Her eyes never left his face as she took a step towards him. His hands closed over her upper arms and impatiently he dragged her into him until their bodies were close enough for her to feel the heat of his body, feel the tension in his muscles, inhale the scent of his skin.
It was an unimaginable situation and yet she had imagined it. The knowledge came with a rush of head-spinning excitement. Somewhere in the back of her mind there lingered a small corner, a fragment of sanity that was telling her this was a bad idea, but she determinedly ignored it.
‘Say my name.’
She swallowed the emotions swirling inside her, making her throat close.
‘I want to hear you say it.’
KIM LAWRENCE lives on a farm in Anglesey with her university lecturer husband, assorted pets who arrived as strays and never left, and sometimes one or both of her boomerang sons. When she’s not writing she loves to be outdoors, gardening or walking on one of the beaches for which the island is famous—along with being the place where Prince William and Catherine made their first home!
Books by Kim Lawrence
Mills & Boon Modern Romance
One Night with Morelli
Captivated by Her Innocence
The Petrelli Heir
Santiago’s Command
Stranded, Seduced...Pregnant
Unworldly Secretary, Untamed Greek
Under the Spaniard’s Lock and Key
The Sheikh’s Impatient Virgin
Wedlocked!
One Night to Wedding Vows
One Night With Consequences
Her Nine Month Confession
A Secret Until Now
Seven Sexy Sins
The Sins of Sebastian Rey-Defoe
Royal & Ruthless
The Heartbreaker Prince
At His Service
Maid for Montero
Protecting His Legacy
Gianni’s Pride
Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/) for more titles.
Surrendering to the Italian’s Command
Kim Lawrence
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Aunty Pat, a gutsy lady.
Contents
Cover (#u0dcd2536-a768-516c-afb2-671d4f21acf2)
Back Cover Text (#u8d305af6-7e0c-5ef6-811c-70d90a4976f4)
Introduction (#u5f251d2e-0c8d-52ec-a706-0e6e23bbb970)
About the Author (#u38b059cf-9701-5114-a443-8874e5e28602)
Title Page (#uec603806-e759-5071-884b-7469ccf54e20)
Dedication (#uaa8f39ec-7d1c-5b6c-b0d0-4e3c69d1d5f6)
CHAPTER ONE (#u2e0140a9-4cd9-5f31-bfb3-4ba0a3ec972b)
CHAPTER TWO (#ue543834f-b1b8-5f6f-8b82-31254cf370f3)
CHAPTER THREE (#u92c5e54d-7845-5b1d-a3f1-fe91082822c6)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ueada85fe-9a2b-5e0a-8144-4d63f0f9d6ec)
TESS LEANED HER hot forehead against the fridge and struggled to inject a smile into her hoarse voice. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘I feel a hundred times better.’
‘You’re a terrible liar,’ Fiona retorted.
Tess straightened up and lifted a hand to her throbbing head, responding to the affection in her friend’s voice with a weak smile. ‘No, I’m a very good liar.’
Only yesterday she had sounded sincere when she’d told her mum’s PA that she was really sorry she couldn’t attend the community centre official opening where her mum was cutting the ribbon. Flu had its plus points—though in this case she wasn’t lying, she really was feeling better; even so a hundred times better than utterly wretched was still pretty awful.
‘I would have dropped in on my way home but I had to work late. You’re not the only one with this flu—half the office is off sick. It’s a nightmare. But I’ll definitely stop by in the morning after I drop off Sally and the girls at the station. Is there anything you need?’
‘You really don’t need—’
‘I’ll be there.’
Tess applied a tissue to her red nose. She was too tired to argue.
‘Well, don’t blame me if you catch this thing,’ she grumbled.
‘I never get the flu.’
‘I think they call that tempting fate,’ Tess muttered as she rested from the two steps she had taken, leaning heavily against the worktop counter. It was crazy but her knees were still shaking from the effort of walking from the bedroom to the kitchen.
Fiona cut across her. ‘In the meantime make sure you get plenty of fluids—’ Tess heard the sliver of sharp anxiety that slid into her friend’s tone as she added, ‘You did change all the locks?’
‘I did everything the police suggested.’
Which amounted to becoming a prisoner in her own flat. She glanced over at the extra bolts that had been fitted to her front door when she’d had her locks changed.
‘They should have arrested the disgusting sicko.’
‘They raised the possibility of a restraining order—’
The admission drew a gasp from Fiona. ‘Then why...?’ Followed by an understanding groan. ‘Oh, of course, your mum...?’
Tess said nothing; she didn’t need to. Fiona was one of the only people who understood. She’d been there when, at ten, Tess had become the poster girl for her mum’s crusade against school bullying. And Fiona had been there again when her mum had used a tearful image of her at her dad’s funeral as part of her campaign to win a local council election.
‘She means well,’ Tess said, unable to resist the knee-jerk reaction to defend her parent. It was true that Beth Tracey—she had reverted to her maiden name after she was widowed—did have the best of intentions, and though she had a genius for self-promotion it was never herself she promoted, but her good causes.
‘The rumour is that she’s going to put herself forward as an independent candidate for mayor?’
‘I heard that rumour too.’ Lucky for her, Tess reflected grimly, that her ambitious parent had finally accepted the fact her only daughter was not a political asset, though that didn’t stop her trying.
‘Even if I had gone down that route there is no guarantee the court would have granted it. He comes across as very...well...harmless. And I had no proof he’d even been in the flat. After all, he didn’t actually t...take anything.’ Tess hated the quiver in her voice—she’d sworn not to be a victim.
‘What he did was way worse, Tess. That creep invaded your home.’
Tess was glad her friend couldn’t see her as her knees sagged and she slid down to the floor. The incident had been the turning point, the moment Tess had realised that ignoring the man, even feeling sorry for him, was not an option. He was dangerous!
Even a month after the event the memory still had the power to send a wave of nausea through her, powerful, but nothing like the sick disgust, the profound sense of violation she had experienced that evening. The rose petals on the bed and the champagne and glasses displayed on the bedside table had been terrifying enough, but it had been the open underwear drawer that had made her rush to the bathroom to throw up.
It was as if her stalker had wanted her to know, and yet he had taken great care not to leave any evidence of his identity.
‘I know.’ Tess cleared her throat and struggled to steady her voice. ‘I suppose from their point of view people leaving flowers and champagne isn’t a major crime.’
‘Stalking is these days. Did you tell them about the emails?’
‘There was nothing threatening. The police were sympathetic.’ Tess had been prepared not to be believed but the professionals had found it easier than she had to accept that the deep and meaningful relationship Ben Morgan believed he shared with Tess consisted only of the odd good morning they had exchanged at the bus stop.
‘Well, sympathy is going to be really useful when he stabs you in your sleep one dark night!’
Alerted by Tess’s audible gasp, Fiona stopped and hastily backtracked. ‘Not that he would, of course. The man’s a wimp, a total loser! Me and my big mouth. Are you all right, Tess?’
Teeth clenched, Tess stubbornly fought her way back from the place where Fiona’s angry remark had sent her, ignoring the icy fist in her stomach. Her chin lifted. To feel fear meant the crazy had won.
‘Nothing two aspirin and a cup of tea won’t cure,’ she said, struggling wearily to her feet.
‘Turn that thing down, you lot, or I’ll switch off the cartoons... Sorry about that,’ Fiona continued, raising her voice above the din that Tess could now hear in the background. ‘My dear sister is taking a bath and the twins are running rings around me. Under-fives and a white carpet are not a good combination...who knew?’
‘You go and save your carpet, Fi.’
‘Are you sure you’re all right? You sound awful.’
