Читать книгу Claiming His Scandalous Love-Child - Julia James - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

VITO EASED THE throttle and settled down into a cruising speed along the autostrada. They’d just passed the Franco-Italian border at Mentone and were heading to his next stop, the Viscari San Remo, along the Riviera dei Fiori.

It had been a crowded morning, meeting with his managers at the Monte Carlo Viscari, outlining his strategy, addressing their specific issues, taking in their input and feedback. That had been followed by a working lunch, and only now, in mid-afternoon, were they travelling on. Heading back into Italy.

He was filled with mixed emotions. It was good to be back in his homeland after weeks out of the country, that was for certain, and yet he was all too aware that his extensive European tour—necessary though it had been—had been something he’d welcomed for quite different reasons than simply to make his mark as the new head of the company with his management teams.

It had got him out of Rome. Given him a lengthy break away from the city and the complications that it contained. Complications he could well do without.

Automatically, his mouth tightened. Those complications still awaited him, and in a couple of days they would be in the forefront of his life again. Somehow he would have to deal with them.

But not yet.

Deliberately, he shook them from his thoughts. No need to spoil these last few carefree days—not when he had Eloise at his side.

Eloise! He turned to glance at her, and as his eyes lit briefly on her beautiful profile he felt his spirits lighten. How totally and absolutely glad he was to have followed through on that first overpowering instinct that had speared him as he’d raised her to her feet from the concourse at Heathrow airport.

Of course it had been her glowing blonde beauty that had first captivated him—how could he possibly have resisted such a gift! He’d always had a passion for blondes, ever since he’d been a teenager, first discovering the enticements of the opposite sex, and as he’d looked down at the gorgeous, long-legged, golden-haired beauty who’d been gazing up at him with celestial blue eyes out of a face that was as gorgeous as the rest of her, he’d been instantly smitten.

The immediate desire he’d felt for her then had been richly fulfilled in Paris, and it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to continue his European tour with her at his side. With every new destination he’d reaffirmed how right he’d been. For it was clear to him that it was not merely Eloise’s stunning looks that were so captivating. Unlike so many of his previous inamoratas—the elegant Stephanie in Nice, for example—Eloise was possessed of a sweetness of nature he had not encountered before. She was never capricious, never demanding, never out of temper. Her sunny mood seemed constant, and she was always willing and complaisant, easy-going and smiling, happy to do whatever he wanted to do.

He had never known another woman like her.

His eyes went back to the road ahead. There was a slight question in his expression now. In a couple of days they’d be in Rome.

Will we still be together?

Or would it be time to end their affair? In his many previous love affairs it had always been he who’d moved on, bidding his lover a graceful farewell before waiting for the next beautiful blonde to cross his path and catch his interest. He’d enjoyed every affair, had been faithful and attentive during the course of each one, but when he’d ended them he’d had no regrets about knowing it had run its course.

A frown shadowed his eyes. Would it always be like that? One easy affair after another? Until—

Until what? What is it that I want?

It wasn’t a question he’d ever posed to himself so insistently. Yet he knew the answer to it all the same. Maybe he’d always known it.

I want to find a woman I can love as deeply as my father loved my mother!

That, he knew, was what had always been his goal. But was it attainable?

Maybe that’s why I play the field—because I don’t want to be disappointed in love. I fear the impossibility of making a marriage that was as happy as my parents’ marriage.

A shaft of sadness went through him. Yes, his parents had been supremely happy together, and he, their only child, had had the benefit of it—had been adored by both of them. Now there was a rueful expression in his eyes. Maybe even a little spoilt.

But Vito knew that knowing he was the apple of his parents’ eyes had also made him supremely conscious of his sense of responsibility towards them—to be worthy of their devoted love for him. That shaft of sadness came again...and something more. Since his father’s untimely death life had not been easy—not for his stricken mother. Her widowing had been cruel indeed, and Vito knew that the haunted look of grief in her eyes would never leave her.

But maybe when I marry—give her a grandchild? Then she might be happy again!

Who would be his bride, though? Again, his eyes flickered to Eloise, his expression questioning.

What is she to me—and what do I want her to be? Could she truly be the woman who will come to mean everything to me?

He did not know and could not tell. Not yet. Not until they reached Rome and there was an end to this constant travelling. For now, he would just continue to enjoy their time together.

‘Did you know,’ he said smiling, ‘that San Remo is renowned for its flower market? And that every year the city sends its finest blooms to Vienna, to adorn the annual New Year’s Day concert?’

‘How lovely!’ Eloise’s smile was as warm as ever. ‘I’ve always adored watching that concert on TV. All those Strauss waltzes! And I’ll never forget the night we spent in Vienna!’ Her smile widened. ‘Tell me more about San Remo,’ she invited.

With her cerulean blue eyes fixed smilingly upon him, Vito was only too happy to oblige.

* * *

Their stay in San Remo was fleeting, and soon they were driving on towards Genoa, before turning south towards Portofino, and then the pretty villages of the Cinque Terre and the Tuscan coastline. Rome was only a day away now.

As they neared the city Eloise could feel her mood changing. These last few days with Vito it seemed her ardency in his passionate embrace had been even more intense than ever. She had clung to him as if she would never let him go.

But I don’t want to let him go! I don’t want this to end. I want to stay with him.

That was the emotion that was distilling within her as every passing kilometre brought them nearer to Rome. And when they finally entered the city, as she watched Vito tangling with its infamous traffic with long familiarity, she could feel that emotion intensifying.

Will he take me to his apartment? she wondered, as they drove into the Centro Storico, where all Rome’s most famous landmarks and sights were.

But she realised they were pulling up outside the Viscari Roma—the original Viscari Hotel. Vito was telling her about its history, and she could hear the pride in his voice as he did so—could see how eagerly he was greeted as they made their way towards an elevator that whisked them up to what had originally been the attics, now redesigned as a penthouse suite.

Eloise let Vito lead her out on to a little roof terrace, gazing out at the city beyond.

‘Roma!’ He sighed, sliding an arm around her waist and pointing out the famous landmarks that could be glimpsed, and the outline of the fabled seven hills—they looked low, to Eloise’s eyes, but she marked them fondly all the same, for they were dear to Vito.

And he is dear to me.

The thought was clear in her head, catching at her consciousness. Making her lean into him even more, wrap her arm around his strong, lean waist. He turned to her, gazing down at her, and in his dark, long-lashed eyes Eloise saw desire, felt her own body respond as his mouth swooped to graze her tender lips, parting to his.

It did not take them long to make their way indoors again and take full advantage of the privacy and luxury of the penthouse’s master bedroom.

‘Welcome to Rome, my sweetest Eloise,’ was Vito’s soft murmur as he swept her away.

And all thoughts as to why Vito had brought her to yet another hotel instead of his own apartment, even though he was in his home city, fled from her utterly in the heady passion of his lovemaking.

* * *

Vito frowned, setting down the phone abruptly and swinging restlessly and with displeasure in the leather chair at his desk in his office. Accidenti, this was not what he wanted! Yet his mother had been adamant.

‘You absolutely have to be there tonight,’ she’d said, her tones strained.

But attending the function as his mother was insisting was the last thing he wanted to do—let alone on his first evening back in Rome after so long an absence. What he wanted to do—the way he wanted to spend the evening—was quite different!

To show Eloise Rome by night...

His expression softened. Eloise! Just thinking about her cheered his mood—a mood that had been tightening all day as he’d caught up on corporate affairs here at his head office. He’d wanted the evening off, to spend with Eloise, but now he’d be on show as the head of the Viscari family, no longer only the heir apparent while his uncle and father ran the business between them. Now everything rested only on him—the whole future of Viscari Hotels.

A bleak, painful look showed in Vito’s eyes. He leant back in his chair. His father’s chair. Four generations had preceded him. And they had created and held on to the legacy that now rested upon his shoulders and his alone.

Except... His eyes darkened now. That legacy was not his alone...

Vito’s hands gripped the arms of his chair. What had possessed his uncle Guido to leave his half of the Viscari shares not to his nephew—as had been the long-held understanding in the family, given Guido’s lack of children of his own—but to his widow? That disastrous decision had, Vito knew, contributed to his father’s heart condition, hastening his premature end fifteen months ago, when he’d been frustrated in his attempts to buy back Guido’s shares from his widow Marlene.

Vito knew his parents had always considered her a social-climbing interloper into the Viscari family, hungry for power and influence. And that was why, Vito surmised, Marlene was adamantly refusing to sell her inherited shares, despite the handsome premium offered to her.

His eyes hardened to pinpoints. It was the same reason that lay behind Marlene’s most persistent and ludicrous fixation.

When she had married Guido, ten years ago, she had arrived from England with her teenage daughter Carla in tow, and ever since Guido’s death one obsession had dominated her. One way for her to cement her position in the Viscari family permanently.

Dream on, thought Vito, his mouth thinning. Marlene could have all the dreams she liked, but she would never achieve her ambition—her ludicrous, fantasy-driven ambition.

Vito was adamant. She was never, however much she wanted it, going to get him to marry her daughter.

* * *

As Vito walked into their suite at the Viscari Roma Eloise’s eyes lit up. She got off the sofa and hurried to him to kiss him.

‘Miss me?’ asked Vito, smiling, throwing himself down on the sofa, loosening his tie and slipping open his top button with relief.

Dio, it was good to see Eloise again, even after the space of only a few hours, and he felt his spirits lift, shifting the pressure that had settled over him after his mother’s phone call.

‘Beer?’ Eloise asked, crossing to the built-in bar.

‘Definitely,’ Vito said gratefully. ‘What would I do without you?’ he asked appreciatively, taking a first cold, reviving mouthful.

‘Fetch your own beer!’ She laughed, nestling into him as he lifted his free arm to draw her against him more closely.

He laughed in return, a carefree sound, stretching out his long legs in front of him. At his side Eloise relaxed into him and his arm around her tightened. The soft expression in her beautiful blue eyes was a balm to his troubled thoughts of the evening’s ordeal ahead and what lay beyond.

I have to settle the business of Guido’s shareholding. I have to get Marlene to agree to a price and get those shares into my ownership.

Into his head came an image, a memory that haunted him—would always haunt him. A voice imploring him, pleading with him. ‘Pay whatever it costs you!’

Emotion clutched at him like a knife thrust into his side. His eyes shadowed painfully.

He took another mouthful of beer, wanting a distraction from his anguished memories.

‘Is everything all right?’

Eloise’s soft voice had a note of concern in it, and she was gazing at him questioningly.

I wish I could take her with me tonight!

The function was to be at Guido’s opulent villa, to mark the presentation of some of the Viscari artworks to a gallery—an occasion that, as Vito knew only too well, would see Marlene queening it over his mother with relish. His mother would be seething silently, and would make waspish comments about her despised sister-in-law.

Having Eloise at his side would make it more endurable. Vito’s eyes glinted sharply. And it would also make it obvious to Marlene that there was no chance he would have the slightest romantic interest in her daughter!

Oh, he and Carla got on well enough—despite the friction between their mothers—and she was highly attractive in her own dramatically brunette way, but she had her own romances and his taste was for blondes. Beautiful, long-legged blondes, with golden hair and blue, blue eyes.

His gaze washed over Eloise’s face now. He felt a strange emotion go through him. One he had never felt before and could give no name to. For a moment he wished he had not brought her here to the Viscari Roma, but taken her straight to his own apartment. But would that have been wise? Would it have given her a message he was not yet sure about?

Or am I sure—but not yet admitting it?

That was what caused him to hesitate. And there was another reason, too, for not having taken Eloise directly to his own apartment. His mother would leap to conclusions—conclusions he was not yet ready to draw.

We need time, Eloise and I—time to discover what we truly mean to each other.

Besides, tonight’s function would be riven with tensions, and the last thing he wanted was to expose Eloise to the discord twisting through the Viscari family over the matter of Guido’s shareholding.

Let me get Guido’s shares back first, and then I can focus properly on Eloise—find out what I feel for her and she feels for me.

So for now he only made a rasping noise in his throat as he answered her question. ‘There’s a family function I’ve got to go to tonight that I can’t get out of,’ he said. ‘It’s a total pain, but there it is. I’d far rather spend the evening with you. I’d planned on showing off Rome to you.’ He made himself smile. ‘Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps...’ He gave a sigh. ‘Well, it will have to wait till tomorrow night, that’s all.’

He swallowed down the rest of his beer and set the empty glass down on the coffee table, absently patting her hand before disengaging himself from her and getting to his feet.

‘OK, I’m recharged now. Time to shower and get into the old tuxedo.’

He rubbed his jaw absently. He’d need to shave too. He glanced at the slim gold watch around his wrist as he lowered his hand. Hmm...maybe there was just time for something more enjoyable than a shower and a shave right now...

He held down a hand to Eloise, who was looking up at him, a slightly blank expression on her face. It dawned on him that this was the first time since he’d swept her off to Paris that they wouldn’t spend the evening together. His blood quickened. Well, all the more reason for making the most of this brief time before he had to tear himself away and go and do his familial duty—try yet again to sort out the problem of his uncle’s shares. But he didn’t want to think of that—not right now. Not when he had this precious time with Eloise.

She took his hand and he drew her up to him, using his other hand to spear into the lush tresses of her unbound hair, cradle the nape of her neck and draw her sweet, honeyed lips to his...

She responded immediately, the way she always did when he kissed her. He felt the fire glow within him...within her. He murmured to her in a low, throaty voice as he let her mouth go, only to guide her towards the bedroom...the waiting bed. Desire kindled, quickened...consumed him.

Eloise! The woman he wanted...

It was the last conscious thought he possessed for quite some time thereafter...