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Authors: Bronwen Evans

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Chapter Five

Abby’s stomach churned as they arrived at the villa. Her nerves flared at the prospect of seeing his family after so long. What would she tell them? What would Katarina and his sisters say about her return?

“Come, I’ll take your suitcase to your room. Do you remember the way?”

She nodded.

She followed her husband to the master suite. When they entered the large, antique-filled room, the centerpiece being the huge four-poster bed, memories of what they did together in that bed, on that bed, flooded her.

His grip tightened on her hand and she became very much aware that they were alone in Dante’s bedroom, and he was looking at her with those long-lashed eyes that hypnotized.

“Relax, Abby. I’m not about to pounce and ravish you on the bed.” He gave her a devastating smile. “I can wait until tonight.”

“You agreed to give me time.” His
we’ll see
raised eyebrow only made her pulse reach supersonic speeds.

“Come, the family is waiting.” He noted her apprehension. “They won’t bite. They know how difficult I can be. If I’m happy with this arrangement, so will they be too.”

“You haven’t told them about our deal, have you?”

“Of course not. We’ll simply tell them you came to your senses and couldn’t live without me.”

“Don’t joke, Dante. They’ll never believe that.”

He moved closer. “They will if you arrive downstairs with a blush on your face as if I’ve just thoroughly ravished you.” Before she could protest, his lips founds hers and he pulled her hard against his body, his tongue sailing lightly across her tense lips, asking her to part for him.

When she didn’t respond, he continued with gentle nibbles and nips, coaxing her mouth to open. When she obliged, his tongue slipped into her mouth and stoked the fire of need that lay dormant inside her.

His scent, like smoky sandalwood, covered her. Barely breathing, she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He took her mouth fully, a deep, gentle mating of tongues. At the same time, he moved his hands up her rib cage, gently cupping her breasts, filling his hands while he softly kneaded. In response, she arched against the length of him. She was trembling, but the tremors running through her had nothing to do with dread. It was as if the reins of desire she’d held tight for the past three years had snapped. Her dreams of him had come to life.

When at last he drew back, she was actually disappointed.

“There, now we could convince anyone that we’re in love.”

She shook her head. “No. Not love. Never use that word for what this arrangement is. Lust I’ll allow, but not love.”

With that she strode from the room.

As it was, the reunion with the rest of his family was a nonevent. Katarina had taken her daughters into Florence for the day and they would be spending the night in the Lombardi apartment. So they had a brief lunch on the terrace and then spent a few hours ensconced in Dante’s study making all the arrangements for her grandmother’s surgery.

Dante arranged for the best cardio surgeon in the world to operate on her grandmother in the private hospital here in Florence. Then her grandmother would convalesce with them at the villa.

She Skyped with her grandmother, and the look on her face told Abby how relieved she was to be having the surgery. Abby didn’t mention the past or anything about Dante. Her grandmother wisely didn’t ask why Dante was helping them. After her operation she had a lot of explaining to do. Why had Nana not told her about Dante’s phone calls? The guilty look on her grandmother’s face spoke volumes. There would be time for recriminations later—she hoped. For now, all Abby wanted was for her grandmother to stay well and survive until after her surgery. When she’d disconnected the call, she wandered out to the pool and found Dante swimming. He halted his laps when he spied her arrival. She sat on the edge of the pool and dangled her bare feet in the water.

“Thank you for all you did this afternoon.”

“I didn’t do much. I simply made a few phone calls.”

“For which I am eternally grateful.”

He swam toward her. “How grateful?”

She noted the gleam in his eyes. “Don’t you dare pull me in fully clothed! I haven’t got enough clothes with me.”

“Great. You’ll have to walk around naked.”

She felt a tug on her foot, and before she could take a breath, she was under the water.

She came up spluttering and sent her palm skidding over the water, sending a harsh spray over Dante. “I can’t believe you did that. What am I going to wear to meet your family tomorrow? This skirt can only be dry-cleaned!”

He laughed. “Relax, all your clothes are still hanging in our wardrobe. They might be several seasons old but they should fit.” He molded his hands to her breasts. “Although, you’ve filled out a bit over the last few years.”

“Is that your way of informing me I’m fat?” She slapped at his hands while trying to push down the skirt floating around her waist.

“What? No. I like them fuller.” His hands moved from her wet T-shirt to her waist, holding her in the water, keeping her afloat. Pietro arrived.

“There’s an urgent phone call for you, sir.”

Dante cursed. “Thank you, Pietro.” He pulled her close. “Just when I was going to have some fun. I don’t suppose you’ll wait for me?”

She pushed out of his hold. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think so. And you accuse me of being all about business.”

He swam to the edge and pulled himself out of the pool. Her breath hitched at the sight of all that bronzed, muscled flesh. He was in fabulous shape. The knowledge that she would soon be able to stroke and taste him sent heat curling low in her belly.

He turned and gave her a dazzling smile. “Don’t run away while I’m gone. Why don’t we meet on the terrace at seven for drinks before dinner? Pietro will help you with anything you need in the meantime.”

He left and she was alone in the cool water. She lay back and floated for a bit, trying to cool her heated response to the sight of his nearly naked body. Her head told her to go slowly while her body ached for him. Meanwhile her battered heart continued to thump in her chest.

She swam to the side of the pool and climbed out. She wasn’t looking forward to the sleeping arrangements tonight.

She’d rested in the late afternoon, and now showered and dressed, she felt more in control of her emotions. That is, until she stepped out onto the terrace and took one look at Dante. He wore an open-necked deep-blue silk shirt. It made the blue of his eyes seem paler. His long, powerful legs were encased in worn denim jeans, and he watched her with an obvious hunger that sent her heart rate rocketing.

Abby had been grateful to find her old wardrobe full of clothes. She’d purposely selected linen trousers and an ivory silk shirt that buttoned high to her neck. But by the look in Dante’s eyes, it hadn’t triggered the reaction she’d hoped for.

“You look every inch my contessa tonight, Abby. I especially like that you’ve covered almost every inch of skin. It allows my imagination to run wild, picturing what lies underneath.”

She felt her face heat, but she wasn’t about to indulge Dante’s flirtatious banter. That would only lead to trouble. He was the expert charmer. She’d never win.

“Champagne?”

She nodded. She’d have to watch what she drank.

Once they were seated, Dante said, “I’m pleased you agreed to our arrangement. Even though times have changed in Italy, I find the prospect of divorce very difficult. I’d be the first in my family to fail.”

“A marriage is not a competition, Dante. It should be a partnership, each supporting the other.”

“Like a business?”

She smiled at his immediate linking of the word partnership and business. “I suppose.”

“What will you do with your little bookstore now that you’ve agreed to take up your proper role by my side?”

“I’m keeping it for now. A friend has agreed to manage it for me. I’m proud of what I’ve created. It may not be in your league, but I’ve turned around a failing business. I’ve given people in my town jobs. I won’t rush into making any decision regarding its future.”

“I didn’t realize success was important to you. Is that what you wanted?”

She took a sip of her drink and thought back to her first months of marriage. “I was so young, Dante. I’m not sure I knew what I wanted. I simply knew I wanted you. You were quite overwhelming, actually.”

“Whereas I thought you were enchanting. Sexy. Desirably innocent.”

She smiled ruefully. “That’s why you picked me, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t ‘pick’ you. I wasn’t thinking about marriage when I first saw you, believe me. It wasn’t until I got to know you that I thought more of it. The first time we made love, and I took your virginity, I knew you were mine.”

“You’re so old-fashioned. You were doing the honorable thing?”

“It wasn’t that. It was more that I knew we’d be perfect together.” His smile died. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. You must have hated me.”

She glanced at him sharply. “I never hated you, Dante. If I’d hated you, it would have been easy to stay and make you miserable.”

Dante touched her hand fleetingly. “Thank you. I can make you happy, if you’ll let me.”

“As long as we’re honest with each other. I know I wasn’t honest in our marriage, just as you weren’t. But I’ve grown up. No more schoolgirl crushes. I’m not infatuated with you any longer.”

Dante wondered why her words were such a disappointment. He did not want her to love him, any more than he wanted to love her. Especially if what his test results indicated was confirmed.

They ate in companionable silence. The sultry night air, combined with good food and excellent wine, put Abby in a mood as mellow as the wine. “Thank you for making this deal not as cold-blooded as it could have been.”

His eyes met hers, their glitter intensified by the candle flames. “With you I’m always hot-blooded.”

Abby found it hard to breathe under his intense stare.

“Don’t, Dante.”

“Don’t what? Want my wife? Because I do. Ferociously.”

“Do you want me or a child?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. His eyes narrowed in anger. She’d ruined a lovely evening with bitterness.

“I’m sorry.” The tension in his jaw eased. “This is why I wanted to go slowly. I still have issues to work through.”

Dante drained his glass and flicked a look of disdain her way. “Go to bed, Abby. I’ve got some work to do since we’ll be at the hospital tomorrow. I’ll sleep in the spare room so there is no need to lock your door.” He rose and left the table without so much as a good night.

Abby bit her lip, uncertain if she should go after him. She’d hurt him when all he’d done was provide her with a pleasant meal.

Later when she was brushing her teeth and getting ready for bed, she reminded herself that this was a business deal. Emotions didn’t come into it.

Then why did she take so long to fall asleep? Emotions were certainly at play. She just couldn’t work out which ones.

 

 

Chapter Six

In the morning, Dante paused outside Abby’s bedroom. He leaned his head against the door, his hand clenched on the brass doorknob, fighting the impulse to enter. But after a sleepless night, his willpower seemed to have deserted him. He opened the door softly, and one look inside had his body instantly as taut as a high wire.

Abby had kicked the sheet off likely because of the high humidity. It lay bunched at the end of the bed, exposing tantalizing skin. His fingers itched for a touch. She was lying on her back, arms flung wide, and she had slept in a horrible T-shirt. He made a mental note to get Rachele, his housekeeper, to destroy it. His eyes swept over his sleeping wife. His pulse hitched and his mouth dried. Wife. His. As reluctant as she was. The T-shirt had ridden up and lay bunched at her waist. The cool dawn light stealing between the shutters caught the blond curls at the top of her slender legs. His mouth began to water. He could imagine selling his soul for a taste.

Go to her. Take her. She’s your wife.
He took a tentative step into the room, then stopped. A recollection of their past lovemaking flashed in his head, tormenting in its vivid detail. She’d always been so responsive in bed. He bit his lower lip as the little devil on his shoulder urged him to take a little morning delight. Besides, her grandmother was arriving this afternoon and Abby would want to be with her at the hospital for much of the next few days. He would surely combust if he had to wait until she returned to sample the treats she displayed so blatantly. But he’d promised Abby he would wait.

As if on automatic pilot, he stole into the room silently.
Stop!
his mind screamed.
Think of the plan. Think of your purpose.
He stood still. His heart was pumping as though struggling through the last lap of his morning swim. He couldn’t find his legendary control to assert his will and turn and walk from the room.
Imagine awakening her with passion
, the treacherous little demon whispered.

He had been without her for three years. Surely he could wait another few days. He’d learned to bury his sexual needs in work and punishing physical activity, had he not? He’d never been so fit, so focused. To succumb would lend her too much power.

Anger finally allowed his feet to move. He turned and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.


A loud knock on the bedroom door woke Abby from her slumber. She stretched like a cat, realizing she’d never felt so refreshed. Funny, she’d always slept like the dead when at the Villa Lombardi, even when Dante hadn’t made love to her half the night. In Southport she’d had trouble sleeping, dreams of Dante awakening her over and over, hot and bothered.

The knock came again.

She realized that more of her body was on display than she’d like. She quickly pulled the sheet over herself and called, “
Incerisci
.”

The door opened, admitting the smell of fresh coffee and hot pastry.


Buongiorno
, Contessa. I’ve brought you your favorite breakfast. It’s good to have you home.”

Abby sat up against the quilted headboard, and Rachele placed the breakfast tray over her legs.

“Rachele, you used to always call me Abby. Please, don’t be formal now.”

Rachele had been the one person who had not taken sides in her marriage. Dante’s family had made her feel very welcome, but she was the outsider. It didn’t help that they thought Dante was a god, incapable of wrongdoing. They would never side against him, never accept any thinking that contradicted his. But Rachele had listened to her problems. She’d listened and tried to help Abby with her difficult and demanding husband. She reminded Abby to be true to herself, that Dante had married her and that there had to be a reason why, of all the women in the world, he’d selected her. A woman who wasn’t even Italian. That had to mean something even if Dante didn’t recognize it.

Abby was not at all sure Rachele was wrong. In leaving, maybe she’d given up too soon.

Rachele gave a soft laugh and clapped her hands together. “I thought your time away might have changed you, but I see it hasn’t.” She gestured toward the tray. “Come, eat up. Your scrambled eggs will get cold.” She moved around the room picking up Abby’s discarded clothes.

Her stomach rumbled. The thought of Rachele’s scrambled eggs on a lightly toasted croissant made her mouth water. But her grandmother came first. “Is Dante up? I have to talk with him about my grandmother.”

Rachele stopped tidying to give her a mocking smile. “Goodness, Dante has been up for hours. It’s almost ten o’clock. But he told me to let you sleep. He said you looked a bit peaked. He was right. All that worry about your grandmother. You poor thing.”

Abby almost choked on her croissant. Her grandmother was not the only cause of her strain. “Where is Dante? I need to telephone my grandmother and confirm when she’s arriving.”

Rachele moved to her bedside and patted her hand. “It’s all taken care of. Dante has organized your grandmother’s flight here.”

She moved the tray aside. “There is still my business to check on.” Her friend Colin had agreed to manage the store; he might even be able to buy it... However, with a permanent manager in the shop, she could run the business from Italy.

Rachele pushed her back down. “Sit. Eat. Dante has arranged for one of his bookstore managers to help out.”

Abby slowly slid her legs back under the sheets. Her stomach began churning again, in anxiety and dismay. The Lombardi Group owned one of the largest bookstore chains in England, Books 4 Less. This had been her motivation to set up her own bookshop, to hit back at him and prove she was capable of more than breeding children. It was also so that she could still feel part of his world.

She toyed with her eggs. What would his loyal, professional manager report back to Dante? She hoped he would be impressed with what she had built. That Dante would be impressed. She scoffed. Why should it matter?
Business relationship—remember.

On the Shelf Books made a modest profit and provided her with a good income. Not good enough to pay for an expensive heart operation, especially after her accountant embezzled the money she’d put aside to pay her business taxes.

The door flew open, and a little body hurtled across the room to pounce on the bed. The coffee slopped over the side of her cup and onto the tray.

“Lorenzo, get off that bed at once,” Rachele said.

Huge dark eyes gazed at Rachele as Lorenzo dutifully slithered off the bed and came to stand beside her. He gave Abby a tentative smile. He looked so much like Dante, it took her breath away.

“Good morning, Lorenzo. I’m your Auntie Abby.” She smiled at him. “Does he understand English?”

Rachele nodded.

He stood silently, twisting his feet and shyly looking at her from under lowered eyelids. Finally, he reached out and touched one finger to her hair.

“Pretty hair.”

Abby laughed. Everyone in the Lombardi family had dark hair and olive skin. She was like a piece of chalk among them.

“Lorenzo’s fascinated by fair-haired women. I hate to think what he’ll be like when he’s older. Blondes will be his preference.”

Abby looked up to see Dante’s sister Salice standing in the doorway with a toddler riding her hip. Rachele tapped the little girl’s nose as she squeezed past mother and daughter on her way out.

“Welcome home, Abby. It’s been too long. I’m sorry for this intrusion, but the children are eager to meet their Aunt Abby. I tried to keep them away, but Lorenzo here is impatient.”

Salice didn’t appear to be judging her, but Abby sensed wariness in her approach. “Gosh, he’s grown.” Abby sighed.

“A lot has changed in your long absence.”

Perhaps not totally without censure. Abby felt her face heat at the subtle accusation.

“Pretty hair!” Lorenzo’s pudgy hand grabbed a fistful and pulled, breaking the awkward silence.

“How’d you like to brush it once I’m showered and dressed?” Abby asked with a smile.

Lorenzo hugged his mother’s leg and grinned. His black curls bobbed in agreement.

Salice smiled at her. “It’s quite a surprise to have you home. Dante kept it very quiet. We had no idea you were returning.” She started to pull Lorenzo from the room. “Come to the sunporch by the pool when you’re ready. Mama, Marcia, and the children are waiting to see you.”

Abby’s face must have betrayed her apprehension.

Salice grinned. “It won’t be so bad. We all know our brother is not easy to live with. You’re back. That is all that matters.”

With that, Salice left her in peace.

Being back wasn’t all that mattered to Abby. As she stood under the shower, Abby knew that keeping a check on her heart while fulfilling her obligations was the key to, if not happiness, her sanity.

The scene of easy domesticity on the patio under the pergola brought a small smile to Abby’s lips, and the stifling heat was forgotten.

She’d missed the joyous contentment of Dante’s large family. Her younger brother, only eight years old, had perished with her parents in the car accident. Her grandmother was her only living relative, and it had been the two of them ever since.

The children were the first to notice her presence. The toddlers stopped running around, and the eldest, Marcia’s boy Enrico, pulled himself up out of the pool and made his way across the marble slabs, dripping water.

“Abby. Look how much I’ve grown!” he called to her.

A lump stuck in her throat. Enrico had grown, and grown uncannily like his uncle. Emotion threatened to throttle her. This is what Dante’s son would probably look like. Their son.

The urge to pull Enrico close and hug him soundly almost overwhelmed her, but she caught herself in time to avert a drenching. “You’ll be as tall as your mother soon.” Enrico beamed back, turned, and did a running dive into the pool, checking when he bobbed up to see that his showing off had been observed.

The three women seated in the shade rose as she approached the table. Katarina held out her arms. Dante’s mother’s eyes welled with emotion. It seemed the most natural thing on earth for Abby to walk into her open arms.

“I’m so thankful you’ve come home. My son needs you as much as you need him. The family needs you. Whatever Dante did, I’m pleased you’ve forgiven him. Anger’s not healthy.”

“I have never hated your son. I have always loved him.”

Katarina drew back and patted Abby’s cheek. “Of course you have. That’s why you’ve come home where you belong.”

Abby was silent. Katarina had kept in contact while her son had not. She’d forever made not-so-subtle hints that a wife should be by her husband’s side and that marriage took work.

She couldn’t meet Katarina’s gaze. What would Katarina or any of them think of her if they knew the truth? That Dante had blackmailed her back into his bed to ensure he saved Katarina’s home and memories. They probably would find some excuse for him. He was, after all, Conte Dante Lombardi. The family’s lineage was hundreds of years old. If Dante has no son, the title reverts back to the state. Every Lombardi would want to protect their heritage.

“Pietro, can you please ask Rachele to bring us a fresh pot of coffee?” Katarina called into the house.

It was Marcia’s turn to hug her. “Come sit down. Tell us what you’ve been doing while you’ve been away. As you can see I’ve been keeping busy. This is Antonio, he’s almost one year old, and this little bambino is Ronaldo.”

“Not bambino, big boy!” The enraged terror barreled across the paving slabs back to the pool.

Salice laughed. “It’s been like a baby factory in the three years you’ve been away. I’ve had Caprice.”

“I met her this morning. Hello gorgeous!” Abby leaned over and tickled the baby in Salice’s arms. Caprice giggled and reached for Abby. It was an automatic reaction to pull the squirming bundle into her lap.

“She likes you,” Katarina said. “You’re a natural. Now that you are home, I expect it won’t be long before you’ll be adding to my list of grandchildren. Dante needs an heir. My daughter’s children cannot inherit. It has to be a child from the male line.”

Salice groaned. Katarina rounded on her. “Don’t start, Salice. You know that’s how it is. Only a son’s children can inherit the title and the estate. If Dante does not have a son, the family loses the title. Admittedly, only Dante seems to care about this. Tradition means a lot to him.”

“It’s so old-fashioned, and it puts too much pressure on him. He takes his role as head of this family far too seriously. He does nothing but work. If he’s not careful, he’ll find an early grave like Papa.”

Katarina crossed herself. “Don’t even joke about that, Marcia. Your brother works for this family. For his wife.” She smiled encouragingly at Abby. “For his children.”

“Give her a chance to breathe, Mamma. She’s only just arrived back. Are you back for good?” Salice asked casually while pouring her a coffee.

“Or will you bolt at the first sign of trouble again?” added Marcia.

Katarina spoke harshly in Italian and Dante’s sisters looked at her sheepishly. But Abby’s mind was on Katarina’s last statement. She knew Dante’s father had died at a young age but had never discussed the actual details. Was Dante working himself into an early grave? Was he ill? Is that why he had insisted on this arrangement? Fear clawed at her stomach, and Caprice gave a little cry as Abby’s hold tightened.

Abby’s eyes swept across the three women. “Dante’s not ill, is he? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn’t you?”

Dante’s mother slapped Marcia’s hand. “Look what you have done. You’ve worried Abby.” She gave Abby a reassuring smile. “My son is as fit as an ox and as stubborn as a mule. He is not ill. My husband died of cancer.”

Abby’s stomach tightened further and she could feel smothering darkness begin to engulf her. There was medical evidence that cancer could be hereditary. “What type of cancer?”

“He had prostate cancer. Very aggressive in a man so young.”

Think
. Yesterday she’d asked Dante if he were ill and he’d denied it. No, wait, he hadn’t. He’d asked her if he looked ill, avoiding an answer to the question altogether. Is this why it was so important that she return to his life and his bed?

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