The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command. Helen Bianchin

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The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command - Helen Bianchin Mills & Boon Modern

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light sweep of his tongue along her lower lip, the faint nibble at its sensitive centre…and how the action caused her body to suffuse with languorous warmth.

      ‘Taylor?’

      Oh, heavens, get a grip.

      She made a dashing slash with one hand and summoned a fierce expression as she assured, ‘Zio Dante will slay them all with his mighty sword.’

      Ben’s eyes grew round. ‘Does he have a real sword?’

      ‘No, just a pretend one.’

      Taylor rose to her feet with Ben in her arms. ‘Now, young man. It’s kindergarten and lots of fun with the other kids. OK?’

      ‘I guess.’

      She collected her bag, keys, locked the small two-bedroom apartment and together they took the lift down to the underground car park, where her Lexus sedan stood in its parking bay.

      It wasn’t difficult to engage Ben’s attention during the short drive and, although he appeared pensive as she checked him in with one of the carers, he brightened almost immediately as two of his friends raced over to greet him.

      His smile and wave as she left tugged at her heartstrings, and she hated leaving him. Except it was imperative he maintain a routine after the tragic loss of his parents.

      Poor little fellow. She’d guided him through the grief of losing his mummy and daddy, and made him feel as secure as humanly possible in the ensuing weeks as they had both attempted to come to terms with the tragedy.

      His tears had flowed freely as she comforted him…while her own were shed in the dark of night without comfort or solace of any kind.

      Part of it was concern, Taylor admitted as she eased the Lexus into the flow of traffic heading into the city. When Casey and Leon had requested Taylor and Dante be Ben’s legal guardians, should the worst ever happen, no one had ever thought that this time would come. Now Taylor wondered as to precisely how custody of Ben could be shared by two people who resided at opposite ends of the world.

      She’d considered every scenario, agonised and lost sleep over each of them…knowing there was a need for mutual agreement, yet unable to countenance the success of any one solution.

      There was the sinking, sickening feeling that Dante would exert unfair pressure, given Ben was a d’Alessandri heir.

      A fierce protectiveness strengthened her resolve. If Dante attempted to remove Ben from her care, he’d have to do so over her dead body!

      Dante d’Alessandri stepped down onto the tarmac from his Gulfstream jet, thanked the flight attendant, cleared Customs, then exited the terminal and crossed to the black Mercedes parked a few metres away. He acknowledged the chauffeur and slid into the rear seat, resting his head on the soft, buttery leather.

      Within minutes the Mercedes eased towards the exit leading from Sydney’s major air terminal.

      Gusty showers dashed rain against the windscreen as the vehicle traversed the main arterial road leading into the city.

      Fitting, perhaps, given events of the past few weeks wherein he’d dealt with his brother and sister-in-law’s accidental death, accompanied his widowed mother from Florence to Sydney for the funeral, then had personally ensured her safe return to Italy.

      Two brothers, Dante reflected, a few years apart in age, close during their formative years, through university, adhering to their father’s dictate they each take a lowly position in the d’Alessandri corporation and work their way up. Something at which they’d both succeeded. It was Dante who had been selected to remain at the Italian head office while Leon was dispatched to the Australian corporate branch in Sydney.

      Opposite sides of the world had lessened individual contact, but they’d kept in frequent touch via phone and email.

      Now Dante was back in Sydney to settle Leon’s affairs and deal with the legalities involved in sharing custody of his brother’s son, who thankfully had been safely ensconced in kindergarten on the day his parents had been killed.

      A child he’d promised to care for…and would, given he was legally bound to do so by the terms of Leon and Casey’s wills.

      Five years ago he’d stood as best man at the wedding of his younger brother to Casey Adamson, and upon Ben’s birth a little over a year later he’d agreed to be named together with Casey’s sister, Taylor, as Ben’s legal guardian and godparent.

      A protective measure, and one it had been hoped would never need to be put into effect, Dante ruminated with a pensive expression.

      His eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled Taylor’s image. Tall, slender, dark blonde hair. A young woman he’d met at Leon’s engagement, partnered at Leon’s wedding, again at Ben’s christening, and shared mutual support with at Leon and Casey’s funeral.

      He recalled the unshed tears glistening in her eyes during the service…the moment she faltered, then regained control during the reading of the eulogy. And afterwards as the family stood at the grave site, the cool autumn day and the wind whipping at her hair.

      It had been Taylor, immediately following the fateful accident, who’d taken Ben into her care and shielded the child during the difficult weeks that followed.

      Something for which he was immensely grateful, given his need to support his mother, tie up urgent business matters and delegate in order to facilitate his return to Sydney.

      Dante checked his watch as the chauffeur drew the Mercedes to a halt at the kerb adjacent a tall city building.

      It took only minutes to gain access to Leon’s legal firm on a high floor, give his name and have the lawyer’s PA lead him into a large executive office where Leon’s legal representative welcomed him with a customary greeting before indicating the young woman who’d risen from her chair.

      ‘Taylor,’ Dante acknowledged as he closed the space between them, took her offered hand, then leant in and brushed his lips to her cheek, sensed the faint hitch in her breath…and wondered at it.

      Her height was accentuated by stiletto-heeled boots, black fitted trousers and a mid-thigh-length knitted woollen jacket in air-force blue, hitched low over her hips by a wide leather belt.

      His brief return to Florence had wrought a regular email exchange regarding their nephew and confirmation of today’s legal consultation.

      As sisters, he reflected, Taylor and Casey had shared an affectionate bond, but different personalities.

      Casey, so bright and bubbly, with laughing eyes and a wicked sense of humour. Her personal world had been filled with her husband and son. Whereas Taylor adopted a reserved, almost wary mask he found intriguing.

      Yet he’d seen it slip for a brief moment when Casey had said her vows to Leon during their wedding ceremony. Later at Ben’s christening, when Taylor had pledged to care for her nephew as his godmother…and recently at Casey and Leon’s funeral service.

      It was a vulnerability she’d endeavoured to hide…one which fascinated him on a fundamental level.

      A woman it would give a man pleasure to tame…if only to peel back the various

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