breathing heavily as he did so, staring at this woman who dared speak to him of morals when she came from a family of conscienceless snakes.
She didn’t drop her stare, holding her ground with a raised chin and a pursed mouth.
Only her eyes showed vulnerability. It was there, ringing out from them, mingled with the defiance and it tempered the fury that had shot through him.
There was no room in this relationship for pity but as much as he didn’t want to put himself in her shoes he could understand why she would feel vulnerable.
‘Tonight you can sleep in a guest room,’ he agreed, rolling his neck to loosen the knots that had formed in it. ‘It’s been a long day for both of us. But from tomorrow you sleep with me.’
‘There will be no sex...’ she spat the word as if it were an oath ‘...until we’re married.’
He gave a slow, deliberate smile. ‘Which is only three days away. Three days until you’re Mrs Mantegna and welcome me into the warmth of your delightful body with open arms.’
‘Welcoming? I think not.’
‘You expect me to believe that when I’ve seen the way you undress me with your eyes? Admit it, there’s an attraction between us. Inexplicable, I admit, but there all the same.’
Her cheeks flamed with colour, letting him know he’d scored a direct hit.
When he’d made the demand that she have his baby it had been a logical progression to his thoughts on marrying her. He wanted a child but he didn’t want the commitment to a woman that went with it. To his mind, Elena having his child was the perfect solution. It would make his revenge on her father almost complete—until he found the evidence to clear his name it would never be complete—and give him the heir he so wanted.
She was dressed in the most hideous outfit he’d ever seen on a woman, even with the improvements he’d made to it. But still his imagination ran amok wondering what lay beneath; the image of her naked bottom never far from his thoughts. All that, and the way she fought fire with fire...it all conspired to make his loins tighten in a way he’d almost forgotten.
Elena Ricci was the complete reverse of what he usually found attractive in a woman but there was something about her his senses responded to.
She stared at him, her eyes flashing, but then gave a slow, deliberate smile of her own. ‘The only thing I will welcome is the blow to your ego every time you remember that you could only have me by blackmail.’
‘Then I will be sure to take extra special enjoyment every time I make you come.’
Colour heightened not only her face but her neck too.
‘You’re crude and you are not a gentleman.’ Turning on her heel, she marched from the living room, saying over her shoulder, ‘I’m going to bed. Goodnight. Hope the bedbugs bite.’
‘Elena,’ he called after her.
‘What?’
‘Next time you try and rouse my anger to keep me out of your bed, know your efforts will be wasted. Any more excuses and I rip our contract up and throw your entire family to the wolves.’
She left the living room without looking back.
* * *
Elena awoke early after a night of fitful sleep, rising shortly after the sun.
With nothing but a pair of pyjamas on, she padded to the kitchen in search of coffee only to find Gabriele had beaten her to it, already showered, shaved and dressed. He’d even been out and bought bagels for them both.
‘Bagels, for breakfast?’ she mumbled, shuffling onto a chair at the kitchen table, feeling awkward with her sleep-crumpled face and mussed hair.
‘You don’t visit New York often?’
She shook her head and opened the box hers was in. ‘This is only my second time here.’
He stared at her, making her feel even more self-conscious. When he looked at her like that it felt as if he were trying to pry open her thoughts.
No one had ever looked at her like that before.
After a long bout of silence broken only by her nibbling as quietly as she could at the bacon and cream cheese bagel, which turned out to be delicious, she excused herself to take a shower.
‘We’ll make a move when you’re ready,’ he said to her retreating figure. ‘We’re going to get you a new wardrobe and have you made over. I’ve booked you in with a stylist.’
‘You’re not going to police my purchases?’
‘No. Your stylist will guide you in selecting clothes you feel comfortable in. I’m going to the office.’
‘It’s Sunday.’ Even she, a self-admitted workaholic, didn’t go to the office on a Sunday. That didn’t mean she didn’t work on the supposed day of rest, only that she didn’t expect anyone else to.
‘We’ve a busy time coming up,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘There’s some stuff I need to get done before we head off to Florence and I won’t have many opportunities after today.’
Two hours later, they entered an exclusive store on Fifth Avenue.
Having had such a rubbish night’s sleep, Elena was well aware of how drained she looked. Even her hair, thin as it was at the best of times, was lank.
When the stylist, a tall, immaculately dressed woman in her forties, strode towards her with an outstretched hand, she felt even more conspicuous.
Gabriele greeted her as if she were an old friend, kissing her on each cheek.
‘I will leave you in Liana’s capable hands, tesoro,’ he said to Elena, his tone affectionate.
Had he brought other women here?
The strange pang that twisted her stomach was smothered when he caught her off guard, wrapping his arms around her and placing a brief kiss to her lips.
The briefest of kisses. Tiny. Insubstantial. And yet enough to set her heart fluttering.
He pulled away, rubbing her arms for good measure. ‘My phone will be on if you need me, otherwise, if I don’t hear from you I’ll pick you up at four.’
Too shell-shocked by the unexpected heat of his mouth on hers and his fruity, masculine scent playing in her senses to respond with anything but a weak, ‘Okay,’ she watched him stroll out, her eyes drifting to the tight buttocks wrapped in a pair of snug-fitting black jeans, which also emphasised the length and muscularity of his thighs.
She dug the nail of her middle finger into the flesh of her thumb.
That was what happened when you didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Your body reacted in unpredictable ways when the monster you were being forced to marry kissed you.
It was only because she hadn’t been prepared for it. Next time she would be, and would bite his lip for good
