Gino's Arranged Bride. Lucy Gordon

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      Dear Reader,

      In Gino’s Arranged Bride we once more meet Gino Farnese, the laughing charmer of Rinaldo’s Inherited Bride. But now everything in his world is different.

      The lighthearted boy has gone. In his place is a bitter, despairing man, banished from his home by his unrequited love for his brother’s wife, and certain that he will never love or be happy again.

      Drifting from country to country, haunted by Alex, he comes to England, where he meets Laura and her little girl, Nikki, and his generous heart is drawn to them by their need.

      Nikki, who has a mild facial disfigurement, sees in him a father to replace the one who rejected her. Laura, her mother, is struggling to scrape a living and keep her daughter’s spirits up.

      In devoting himself to their service, Gino finds a new reason for living. He even accepts Laura’s suggestion of marriage, for Nikki’s sake. It’s a far cry from his violent passion for Alex, but it’s contentment of a kind, and he reckons it will have to do.

      But Laura won’t settle for second best. She knows that only in Tuscany will Gino find the answers he is still seeking. Yet returning to Tuscany means meeting Alex, the woman who still reigns in his heart. Laura fears Alex most of all, but until she faces her—and Gino faces her—she knows that he will never be truly hers.

      Best wishes,

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      Gino’s Arranged Bride

      Lucy Gordon

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER ONE

      ONE of the most beautiful men Nature ever made, Laura thought appreciatively. And I don’t just mean good-looking. Beautiful!

      The young man leaning back on the park bench would have caught anyone’s attention. His shaggy dark hair was just beginning to curl. His features were lean and fine, except for his mouth which was wide and generous, sensually curved even when he was asleep.

      There wasn’t a spare ounce on his tall body with its long legs, stretched out gracefully. An old jacket, worn jeans, and a day’s growth on his chin, made him look like a hobo, but a stylish hobo.

      With his eyes closed, his face raised to the sun, he might have stood for a pagan symbol of physical perfection.

      He’s probably got nothing between his ears, she thought, amused, but with looks like that, he doesn’t need it.

      But then she thought again. There was something in his face that told another story. Heavy shadows beneath his eyes, and a fine-drawn tension about his mouth suggested a man who lived on his nerves, and who hadn’t slept properly for months.

      ‘Mummy.’

      Laura turned to where her eight-year-old daughter was standing beside her, clutching a football, eagerly waiting for the fun to begin.

      ‘Sorry, darling,’ she said, turning away from the man on the bench.

      ‘Please let’s play a game, Mummy.’

      On the first real day of spring Nikki had wanted to get out of the house and celebrate in the park. Laura had protested at first.

      ‘It’s not really warm enough yet.’

      ‘It is, it is,’ Nikki had insisted indignantly.

      And it was. The weather was lovely. But Laura had another reason for being reluctant to face the world, one that she couldn’t put into words for the little girl, although Nikki understood without words.

      Before leaving the house she had run a brush through her fair, generous curls that rioted in disorder no matter how she tried to control them. Her appearance told two different stories. Her hair seemed to belong to a cheerful, careless teenager, and at thirty-two she still had the slim figure of those years.

      But her face had been shaped by sadness and weary patience. It was too soon for lines, but a shadow had come into her blue eyes years too soon.

      What devastated her was that the same shadow was beginning to appear in her daughter’s eyes. At eight, Nikki was already losing her childish light-heartedness, for a terrible reason. And there was nothing her frantic mother could do about it.

      The park was already filling up. Children were kicking balls about, adults were leaning back in the sun.

      Laura recognised some of the other mothers and waved to them. They waved back, but then turned away quickly. She glanced quickly at Nikki to see if she had noticed the rejection, and found her daughter regarding her with an understanding smile.

      ‘It’s all right,’ she said in a confiding voice. ‘We’ll play together.’

      At such moments Laura wanted to scream to the world, ‘How dare you reject my daughter? So what if her face is a little different? What harm does it do you?’

      But Nikki was already darting away, deftly dribbling the ball between her feet. She seemed to have put the incident behind her.

      If only I could do that, Laura

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