Читать книгу Modern Romance September 2018 Books 5-8 - Heidi Rice - Страница 16
ОглавлениеAS STEFANO KISSED down her throat, stroking the silky fabric of her dress, Tess closed her eyes, her body taut with need. She gasped as she felt the rough heat of his hands beneath the sweetheart neckline of her bodice, against her naked breasts.
Through the closed side door, she could hear the muffled sounds of music, laughter, dancing from the distant ballroom. The sounds of their wedding reception, still carrying on without them.
Here in this quiet, darkened hallway, they were alone. He swayed against her, and even through her thick white skirts, she could feel the force of his desire for her. They gripped each other, panting in the intensity of their need.
Abruptly he lifted her up against the wall. Her white skirts parted, her legs wrapped around his hips of their own accord. She felt his shaft pressing hard against her, through his trousers and the flimsy fabric of her panties.
Lowering his head, he kissed her passionately. Her fingertips dug into the shoulders of his tuxedo jacket. She wanted him closer, wanted more. With a low growl, he unzipped his fly.
Holding her backside, he pressed her hard against the wall. He shoved her delicate lace panties aside and pushed his enormous shaft inside her, filling her slowly, inch by delicious inch.
She gasped as she felt him hard and thick inside her, stretching her to the limit. Drawing back, he thrust again, even more deeply inside her wet, aching core. Desperate need pounded through her. She choked out a cry, gripping his shoulders.
His thrusts became harder, faster, as her white satin skirts shook and fluttered around them, the fabric opalescent and gleaming in the pale shadows of the hallway. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her full breasts overflowing the low-cut neckline of the boned corset, a sliver of her pink nipples now visible.
Feeling him so deep inside her, all the way to her heart, pleasure blazed through her like a wildfire, consuming her. She’d wanted him for so long.
The wickedness of letting him do this to her when she hated him, when any moment someone might come into the hallway and see them, should have made her pull back and push him away. Instead, she only wanted him more.
Three more deep thrusts and she exploded in a shuddering cry, digging her nails into the expensive fabric of his tuxedo jacket. At that, he shoved himself inside her with a harsh shout, gripping her against the wall, his eyes closed with fierce ecstasy.
Tess slowly came back to earth, literally, as he released his grip on her thighs, letting her feet slide back to the floor.
His large hands smoothed her frothy white skirts neatly back down, as if nothing had happened. Turning away, he zipped up his tuxedo trousers. Watching him, Tess leaned back heavily against the wall, hardly able to believe what had just happened.
“I was never going to let you touch me again,” she whispered.
Stefano glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. His cruel, sensual lips lifted into a cold smile. “If this is you hating me, I like it so far.”
With a humiliated gasp, Tess turned away. He grabbed her wrist.
“Wait.” His voice was low, and his earlier expression was gone, replaced with some emotion she couldn’t identify. “Don’t go. I didn’t mean it.”
“You did that just to show your control over me,” she choked out, wiping her eyes, knowing she was probably streaking mascara across her face.
“Is that what you think?”
“What else could it be?”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I didn’t even show control over myself. I meant to take you upstairs to the suite.” He gave a rueful laugh. “I didn’t quite make it.”
Tess’s cheeks were hot as she looked down at the patterns of the carpet. “You blackmailed me into marriage,” she said in a low voice. “You threatened to destroy my family, to take Esme away.”
“It was an empty threat.” He looked at her with glittering eyes. “I would never take Esme away from you, Tess. Not for any reason.”
Shocked at this admission, Tess demanded, “Then why did you say it?”
“You were threatening to call off our wedding.”
“We barely know each other. All I did was share some doubts. And you proved my fears right!”
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he said quietly. “But I couldn’t let you leave. Or Esme. I can’t just abandon you to the whims of fate and hope you’ll be safe. Marrying you is the only way I know to keep you safe.” He gave her a regretful smile. “I’m sorry if my method was a bit unorthodox—”
“Unorthodox?”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said in a low voice. “We have a lifetime. I know I can make you happy.”
A lump rose in her throat at the certainty in his voice. “How can you be so sure?”
“You said you spent the last year thinking of me.” Lifting his hand gently to her cheek, he said softly, “What you don’t know is that I spent the last year trying not to think of you. And failing.”
“What are you saying?”
“I never forgot you, Tess.” He paused. “There’s been no one else.”
Was he saying...?
“Impossible,” she breathed. “The model I saw you with yesterday—”
“Kebe?” He snorted. “She’s just a kid. I was giving her a ride home from a party. Although,” he murmured, grinning, “I like that you were jealous.”
“I wasn’t,” she lied.
“Didn’t my marriage proposal prove you’re the only woman I’m interested in?”
“You proposed because of Esme.”
“She’s not the only reason.” His hand stroked from the edge of her jawline to her sensitive lower lip. “You asked yesterday if I could be faithful to you. The truth is...” His dark gaze lifted to hers. “I have been. For over a year.”
There was a noisy burst of conversation from the other end of the service hall as a group of uniformed waiters appeared, carrying trays. But Tess couldn’t look away from his gaze. She was in shock.
Stefano took her hand with his own. “Come with me.”
“We should go back to the reception,” she said, trying to ignore the thrum of her heart. “People will be wondering where we are—”
“So?”
“Aren’t they your friends?” she said, bewildered.
“Acquaintances. I don’t give a damn about them. You’re the only one I want to please.”
“And Esme—”
“She’s fine with your cousin, isn’t she?”
“But...” She bit her lip. “What will my family think? Leaving my own wedding reception without a farewell?”
“It’s your day, Tess. Your choice.” His dark eyes seared her. “Do you want to go back and make small talk? Forget about what you think you’re supposed to want. What do you actually want?”
Tess’s lips parted. For so long, she’d worried about pleasing others. Always being cheerful, pleasant and helpful, no matter what. Maybe part of her had always been afraid that if she put one toe out of line her uncle and aunt might abandon her, as her father had, and send her away.
Raw emotion filled her. What did she want?
No one had ever really asked that before.
“I want to leave with you,” she whispered. His dark eyes gleamed.
“Then come.” His large hand enfolded her smaller one. As he pulled her down the shadowy hall, past the chattering waitstaff, it occurred to Tess that if their passionate interlude had taken any longer they would have put on a shockingly good show for a bunch of strangers. She should have felt ashamed.
But she wasn’t. After a lifetime of feeling invisible and desperate to please, something had made her reckless and bold.
Not something.
Someone.
Stefano wasn’t afraid of her expressing her true feelings, either good or bad. He was strong enough to take it. He didn’t judge her. He wasn’t going to punish her. He wasn’t going to leave her.
You asked yesterday if I could be faithful to you. The truth is I have been. For over a year.
His husky words echoed through her as Stefano led her into the Campania’s lobby. She shivered, hardly able to believe it was true. Stefano had been faithful to her for over a year?
Her hand tensed in his as he led her toward the elevator. Wealthy guests and elegant patrons at the lobby bar turned to gape openly at them, the famous billionaire prince and his redheaded bride in a diamond tiara and wedding gown. People started to whisper, to lift their phones to take pictures.
“Hurry,” Stefano said in a low voice, picking up the pace. She raced with him, clinging to his hand, her white veil and white wedding skirts flying behind her.
As the elevator door closed behind them, he pulled her hungrily into his arms. He kissed her forehead, her temples, her eyelids. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a treasure and he never wanted to let her go. And then he kissed her lips.
As the elevator traveled upward, Tess felt her body surrender in his powerful arms. When he kissed her, she was lost.
How she wished she could still believe in her romantic fantasy of him, that he was a handsome prince on a white horse, a strong, romantic hero she could trust. How she wished she could just let herself go, let herself love that man...
But she couldn’t. As he drew away from the kiss, Tess looked up at him. She couldn’t even think about loving him. Not unless she wanted her heart to be broken again.
Because however she might feel in his arms, Stefano was no knight in shining armor. Just hours before, he’d blackmailed her into speaking their vows at their wedding ceremony. What should have been the happiest moment of Tess’s life had instead been misery, an agony of hate and despair.
She couldn’t let herself truly trust him. She couldn’t let herself believe in the romance or give him her heart.
But as Stefano smiled down at her, his dark eyes gleaming wickedly, she felt breathless. Her heart pounded with emotion and desire.
She hated that he’d blackmailed her into marriage. But at least he’d done it for the right reason, she told herself. He wanted to protect her and Esme, and claimed that he would spend the rest of his life making them happy. Could Tess truly fault him for that?
Especially when he made her feel like this...
As the elevator reached their floor, the door opened with a ding. Still holding her hand, Stefano led her toward his suite. After unlocking the door, he pushed it open. When Tess started to walk inside, he stopped her with a chiding smile. “That’s not how it’s done.”
He picked her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. Her long white veil and white skirts trailed behind them as he carried her over the threshold.
Inside, the suite, already so luxurious, had been utterly transformed. She gasped when she saw the lavish vases of long-stemmed red roses and soft glow of white candles.
“What have you done?” she breathed, looking up at him.
His eyes were dark, caressing her face. “For you,” he said in a low voice. “All for you.”
As the door closed behind them, he carried her past the main room, with its glittering view of the New York skyline at twilight, toward the bedroom.
Breathing in the scent of roses, Tess looked up at him as he carried her to bed. The flickering candles moved shadows across the chiseled planes of Stefano’s high cheekbones and jawline. Like a medieval knight, she thought dreamily.
The bedroom, too, was filled with candles and roses. He set her gently on her feet, and she stepped out of her expensive white high heels. Looking down at her hungrily, he gently pulled out the pins that attached the diamond tiara and veil to her hair. He set them on the nightstand. The diamonds gleamed in the candlelight, the translucent veil lingering like a ghost against the marble floor.
Never looking away from her, he slowly took off his tuxedo jacket. He removed his platinum cuff links, one by one, setting them beside the tiara. He kicked off his expensive shoes, dropping his black tie to the floor.
All the while, she stood shivering in front of him in her wedding dress, knowing what was about to happen. Wanting it to happen.
Coming forward, he reached his arms around her and slowly unzipped the back of her wedding dress, letting it fall softly to the floor. Her shivering intensified as she stepped out of the gown and stood before him in her wedding lingerie.
She wasn’t cold. His gaze was a blast of heat against her skin.
He’d picked out her lingerie. She’d blushed when she’d first tried it on. The structured bodice of her wedding gown had hidden a strapless bra that barely covered half of her breasts. And, more shocking still, there were slits in the white silk so her pink nipples peeked through the fabric.
Her panties were nearly as bad, just a little sliver of silk, loosely attached to white garters that held her shimmering stockings to her thighs.
Feeling his gaze in the flickering candlelight, she started to take off her bra.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “Leave it.”
Reaching up, Stefano loosened her chignon so that her red hair tumbled down around her shoulders in a cloud of scarlet.
“So beautiful,” he breathed. Lifting her gently in his arms, he set her down on the enormous bed.
“So are you,” she said shyly.
“You’re mine now. To do with as I please.”
She lifted her chin, and repeated, “So are you.”
With a jagged intake of breath, he ripped off his crisp white shirt so swiftly she heard buttons hit the floor. Climbing beside her on the bed, he pushed her back against the mattress, lowering his mouth hungrily to hers.
She braced herself, expecting his embrace to be savage, for him to demand, to ruthlessly take, as he had in the hallway outside the ballroom.
But this time was different.
He gave, rather than took; he tempted, rather than plundered. His hands were gentle, caressing every inch of her naked body, even and especially the secret places barely covered by the sliding whispers of silk.
He seduced her slowly. Unsnapping her garter belt, he pulled down her thigh-high stockings, one by one, teasing her until she was panting with need.
He didn’t demand what was his by right. Instead, he begged her with his touch.
And all along, she could feel his desire for her, fiercely contained. How was it possible that he already wanted her again? But he did. He did not bother to hide it. He caressed her with agonizing slowness, taking his time, as if he intended to make their pleasures last forever.
They could, she realized. They were married. They had all the time in the world.
Reaching up, she kissed him, caressing his sharp jawline, rough with five-o’clock shadow. She ran her hands down his back, over his warm skin, feeling the hard power of the muscles of his shoulders and biceps.
With a low growl, he rolled her over so she was above him on the bed. A moment before, trapped beneath his weight, she’d felt bold, unrestrained. Now, as she sat astride him, she stroked her fingertips tentatively down his bare chest, then stopped, biting her lip.
“What do you want me to do?” she whispered.
His dark eyes glinted up at her in the flickering candlelight. “Take what you want.”
Reaching up to cup her full breasts through the bra, he lifted his head and gave one pebbled nipple a lick where it peeked through the slit in the silk, then moved to the other. She closed her eyes at the hot sizzle of pleasure spiraling in waves down her body.
Hesitantly she ran her hand down his powerful chest, lightly dusted with dark hair, to his flat, muscular belly. With her legs straddled over his hips, she could feel the hard thickness of his desire, feel the involuntary movement of him between her thighs.
Lowering her head with a tumble of her red hair against the pillow, she kissed his mouth, daringly teasing him with her tongue. He responded hungrily, kissing her long and hard. Reaching around her, he roughly unhooked the peek-a-boo bra and tossed the flimsy fabric to the floor. She relished the feel of her full naked breasts crushed against him, her tight, aching nipples brushing his hard chest. Instinctively, her hips swayed.
A choked gasp came from the back of his throat. Innocent as she still was, she suddenly realized her power over him. And she gloried in it.
She reached down to unzip his fly. With deliberate slowness, turnabout being fair game, she slid his tuxedo trousers and silk boxers down his legs, inch by inch.
Tossing them to the floor, she looked down at him in the candlelit shadows of the bedroom. He was a completely naked, magnificent male, his shaft jutting huge and hard from his body. She moved forward, intending to taste him even there, to tease him with her lips and hands. But, here, his patience ended.
With a low growl, he ripped off her white silk panties in a violent gesture, leaving the expensive garment nothing but tatters and ripped threads. Reaching around her hips, he lifted her up from his body, then pushed her back down against him, entering her.
Slowly.
Deliciously.
She gasped with pleasure, closing her eyes with ecstasy as he filled her so deeply—deeper still—stretching her all the way to the hilt.
As tension coiled tightly inside her, he gripped her hips, guiding her to ride him. She panted with the agonizing sweetness of the sensation. He felt huge beneath her, inside her. Leaning forward, she kissed him, trying desperately to hold herself back, to control the rhythm. But the pleasure was too great. Her body tightened, going higher and higher with rapidly exploding desire, and spiraled out of her control.
“Tess,” he breathed beneath her in the dark. Thrusting deeply, he groaned her name. “Tess.”
Something broke in her heart, rising from her soul like the sun after a storm. Joy burst through her, and all the broken little pieces of her soul came together in a bright blinding light. They were married. The two of them together made one—
A cry came from the back of her throat, rising to a scream that she did not recognize as her own as she exploded. In the same instant, he roared in harmony to her cry.
With a harsh intake of breath, she collapsed over him, exhausted, spent. Her limbs felt boneless.
Slowly his powerful arms reached up to wrap around her tenderly. For a long time, he held her, both of them naked in the candlelit bedroom. She heard only his rough breath, felt only the power of his body, lifting her with the rise and fall of his chest.
* * *
The next evening, as the chauffeur drove them through the streets of London, Stefano saw the awe in Tess’s eyes and felt a strange thrill of wonder. It was almost like he, too, was seeing the glittering sights of London for the first time. Big Ben, Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she breathed.
“You’re a New York girl,” he teased. “Surely you’re not so easily impressed.”
“This city is thousands of years old,” she informed him archly.
“What were you reading on the plane? The history of London?”
“I was reading a novel. Louisa told me.” Louisa was the flight attendant on their private jet. “London was founded by the ancient Romans!”
“So really,” he said lazily, “we should get credit.”
“You?”
“Italians.” He reached past the baby to put his hand tenderly on his wife’s knee. “Just wait until London Fashion Week. Are you excited?”
“Yes.” Looking at his hand, she blushed, biting her lip. “Very.”
And well she should blush, Stefano thought smugly, after the night they’d had. It had been the most amazing twenty-four hours of his life, even better than their first time. He’d made love to her four times last night in the hotel, then twice in the private bedroom in the back of the jet as they crossed the Atlantic. His wife. He couldn’t get enough of her.
He shivered, remembering.
“I can’t wait to see everything,” she said softly, looking out at the city. “London, Milan, Paris. I can’t believe I’ll be attending three different Fashion Weeks, back to back.”
“You never attended the one in New York?”
She snorted. “Fashion Week is for famous people, not poor design students. I’ve seen pictures on social media, though. I always wondered what it would be like.”
“To see a runway show?”
“To hold one of my own.” She gave him a wistful smile. “To be a designer for a major house.”
Was she hinting that she wanted a job at Mercurio or Fontana? No, surely not. Why would Tess want to work, to hold down a grueling job with long hours that often paid little, when she could live with him in luxury? Stefano smiled at her. “You’ll meet Mercurio’s new designer in Paris,” he said huskily. “And see all the shows up close.”
Tess returned his smile. “Do you usually sit in the front row?”
He shrugged. “I could. But I generally leave that to celebrities. I prefer to be in the second row. I don’t need to be photographed. I’m there for business.”
“And to check out your rivals?” she said, handing their cooing baby a giraffe toy.
He gave Tess a startled look. She grinned, then said cheerfully, “I used to buy pastries from the bakery down the block for that exact same reason.”
How funny she was, Stefano thought, his gaze tracing her sweet, pretty face, her pink lips, swollen from a night of kisses. His body stirred again.
It amazed him that he could still want her, after the night they’d had. He’d married Tess out of sense of duty, and because he desired her. What he hadn’t expected was that he’d enjoy her company so much, even in the daytime. Talking with her. Being with her.
Somehow, Tess made everything in Stefano’s life, everything he’d previously been bored with, seem different and new.
Climbing aboard their private jet in New York that morning, Tess had exclaimed over its large, luxurious cabin, newly outfitted with a travel crib and baby toys. Her eyes had been wide as saucers.
“First time on a private jet?” he’d asked her, smiling.
“First time on a plane!”
It was no wonder she’d been excited. When the flight attendant had offered to make them drinks and dinner, Tess had followed Louisa into the galley, to “help.” Stefano was mystified. He always kept a distance from his own employees, even if they’d worked for him for years. His executive assistant, Agathe Durand, had been with him for fifteen years, but until her grandson became seriously ill last year, Stefano had known almost nothing about her family. He respected his employees’ right to privacy and expected them to respect his. Tess obviously felt differently. By the end of the flight, Tess and the flight attendant were apparently best friends.
The flight attendant glowed under Tess’s friendly attention, and so did the two pilots, at her over-the-top praise. Tess’s sweet, hopeful nature was like sunshine, he realized, making everyone happier around her. Opening people’s hearts.
Not his, of course. He didn’t have a heart, so he was immune. But he enjoyed the effect she had on others. He was amused by her company and enjoyed the novelty of looking at the world through her less cynical eyes. Her warmth and idealistic heart were good qualities for a wife and mother.
Plus, she blew his mind in bed.
Stefano glanced at her now, sitting on the other side of the baby’s car seat in the back of the Bentley. She was exclaiming over everything—even ordinary things such as red post boxes and black taxi cabs. Feeling his gaze, she gave him a happy smile, but he saw faint shadows beneath her eyes. As much time as they’d spent in bed, they hadn’t slept a great deal. He was used to taking business calls and discussing the latest numbers at all hours, but he’d been surprised to discover Tess was awake just as much with the baby. He was accustomed to pushing himself to the limit, but he wanted Tess to be comfortable. He’d already sent a message to his assistant to find a nanny as soon as possible.
“What’s that?” As the car slowed, Tess craned her neck to look out their window.
He smiled. “Our hotel.”
“Wow,” she breathed, looking up at the grand Victorian hotel, its stone turrets towering over them.
After the Bentley stopped, the hotel’s uniformed doorman opened the door. After unbuckling the baby seat, Tess let him help her out, with Esme in her arms.
“Welcome to the Leighton Hotel London, madam,” the doorman said, then bowed to Stefano. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”
“Hello, Walter. This is my wife.”
The doorman’s eyes widened and he corrected himself, bowing to her, too. “Your Highness, welcome.”
“Nice to meet you, Walter,” she said warmly, then took Stefano’s arm as he led her into the Leighton’s grand, gilded lobby. The service was impeccable, as always. They were whisked upstairs without even having to pause at the registration desk, with their luggage and new stroller brought behind them.
Stefano always stayed in the same penthouse suite in London. As they entered the door, he smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. “Will this do for a honeymoon?”
Holding their babbling baby against her hip, Tess walked through the suite’s five elegant rooms and terrace overlooking Hyde Park. “Wow,” she breathed again. Then she saw the flower arrangements and fruit baskets on the suite’s gleaming wooden table. “What are these?”
“Congratulations on our marriage, I imagine. From friends who couldn’t attend the ceremony. And business acquaintances.” Coming forward, he kissed her. “Welcome to London, cara mia.” He kissed Esme’s fat cheek tenderly. “And you, mia figlia.”
“Bah,” said the baby, waving her chunky arms at his nose.
There was a peremptory knock at the door of the suite, and a chic white-haired woman entered, followed by a plump middle-aged blonde.
“Tess,” he said, and took his wife’s hand, “I’d like you to meet my executive assistant, Agathe Durand.”
“Congratulations again, Your Highness,” said the white-haired woman.
“Thank you, Agathe.” He looked next at the plump blonde. “This is the nanny?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Nanny?” said Tess.
“I am most pleased to meet you, Your Highness,” the executive assistant said to Tess with a nod, then motioned to the middle-aged woman behind her. “This is Ann Carter, from the most respected nanny service in London. She’ll be traveling with your family for the next month.”
“Lovely to meet you, Your Highness.” The nanny’s smile was kind. She looked at the baby. “And this is the little one?”
“Er...hello.” Still holding Esme tight, Tess turned to Stefano with a bewildered frown. “Why do we need a nanny? Unless—” She brightened. “Are you offering me a job as a designer? Oh, Stefano!” Joy lit up her face. “You don’t know what this means to me. I don’t need any special treatment. I’ll be happy to be assistant to an assistant—”
Stefano cut her off with a scowl. “You don’t need to work, Tess. I can more than provide for you.”
Her face fell. “Then why a nanny?”
He could hardly explain that he wanted to give her more time for sex and sleep, not with his employees listening to every word. So he stuck to half the truth. “As my wife, you’ll often have PR events to attend. Runway shows. Parties. Charity balls.” He grinned. “Art Basel. Weekends on the French Riviera or yachting on the Costa Smeralda.”
“Me?” Tess looked flabbergasted. “I’ll be doing those things?”
“You’re joining my life, and that’s how I live. Starting with a party tonight. You remember the woman who attended our wedding, Fenella Montfort?”
Tess’s face was blank. “Um. Maybe?”
“It’s fine. You were distracted.” He smiled. “She’s the primary shareholder of Zacco. Our lawyers have already started negotiations, but the company is hosting a party at her town house tonight, and I hoped...”
“You hoped to use your charm to jump-start the negotiations?”
“Exactly.”
Tess looked at him and sighed. “Then of course we must go.”
Taking her hand in his own, he kissed it. “Thank you, cara. I knew you would understand.”
“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” Ann Carter said, holding out her arms for Esme.
With some visible reluctance, Tess handed her the baby as the nanny continued talking.
“I’ve been caring for babies my whole life.” She smiled down at Esme. “We’ll get along very well, won’t we? Shall we go read stories in the nursery?”
The baby gurgled with delight, waving her pudgy arms.
Tess watched them, biting her lip. Stefano could see she was nervous at the thought of leaving their daughter with anyone besides family or friends.
“It’ll be all right,” Stefano said, touching her shoulder. “The party isn’t far. We don’t have to be out late.”
She took a deep breath. “All right.” She gave him a wan smile. “This party is important, right?”
“It is.” Drawing her close, he kissed her on the forehead. “Thank you.”
Thirty minutes later, he and Tess left the hotel in a luxury limousine. The burly bodyguard he kept on staff in Europe, Leon Rossi, sat in front beside the driver.
Leaning close to Stefano in the back seat, Tess whispered, “Why a bodyguard?”
“Don’t worry.” Stefano looked down at her. “He’ll wait in the car. There’s no threat. It’s simply best practice.”
“You mean, all the other billionaires had a bodyguard, so you wanted one, too.”
“Well...yes.” A smile lifted the corners of his lips. “And I wanted the best. I stole Leon away from his previous employer. Who was that again, Leon?”
“Cristiano Moretti, boss.”
Folding her arms, Tess shook her head, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re incorrigible.”
“See? You do know me.”
Stefano couldn’t stop looking at her. Tess was wearing a new dress, chosen from a selection sent up by the hotel’s luxury boutique. He’d offered to arrange a stylist, but Tess had refused. She’d done her own hair and makeup in twenty minutes. And she was the most impossibly beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Her bright red hair tumbled down her shoulders, and her ruby lips were full and ripe. Her bright green eyes stood out like emeralds, lined with black against her fair skin. Her hourglass figure was lush and enticing in the strapless sapphire-blue dress. A faux fur stole was draped around her bare shoulders to keep out the cool, slightly drizzly air of an autumn night in London.
Stefano felt intoxicated with pride. Lowering his head, he kissed her, relishing the sweet taste of her soft lips.
He drew back with a sigh. “I almost wish we didn’t have to go tonight.”
“This Montfort woman, what’s she like?”
He smiled down at her, running his hands through her silky hair. “Even more ruthless than her father. He was the one who bought Zacco. She took over after he retired.”
“Is she married?”
“Why?” His smile broadened. “Are you jealous?”
“Just wondering,” she said evasively. The lights of the city passed over her lovely face as the limo drove through the London night.
“As far as I can tell, she’s a workaholic. It’s a pity.” He sighed. “Zacco has done exceptionally well with her as CEO.”
“Why is that a pity?”
“Business is booming, which is reflected in Zacco’s stock price, and will make it harder to convince her to sell. But I assure you,” he whispered, cradling her cheek, “you have nothing to worry about, cara. All I want from her is Zacco. Believe me.”
She bit her plump, pink lower lip. “And what do you want from me?”
“From you?” he said huskily. “Everything.”
He kissed her again, deeply. It was far easier to take her in his arms with no baby seat between them in the back seat. When the limo stopped, it took him a moment to notice. The back door opened, but he didn’t feel the cold air.
The driver politely cleared his throat. “We’re here, Your Highness.”
Reluctantly Stefano pulled away from the embrace and tenderly rubbed away a smear of lipstick from Tess’s cheek. At the same moment she reached up and wiped it off his lips. Looking at each other, they gave an awkward laugh. Then, after getting out of the car, he held out his arm. “Come,” he said in a low voice. “I can hardly wait to introduce you.”
