went out to build Santino’s snowman. And just for the record, I love you, too. So very much.’
He bent his head and kissed her, deeply and passionately and it was some time before she broke off to graze her lips against the dark stubble of his angled jaw.
‘Did you speak to your father?’ she said.
‘I did. And he’s looking forward to Christmas lunch tomorrow. He says he’ll be here soon after eleven and is bringing his new girlfriend.’ His eyes gleamed down at her. ‘And that we should prepare ourselves for what he calls a significant age gap.’
Keira giggled as she rested her head on Matteo’s shoulder. Massimo had divorced Luciana in the spring and although Keira had tried to feel sad about it, she just couldn’t. Not only had the older woman been a troublemaker—it transpired that she’d been unfaithful to her husband as well. And one night, soon after the decree nisi had come through and Matteo had been away on business, Keira and her father-in-law had dined together in Rome. He’d told her it wasn’t a desire to manipulate which had made him threaten to disinherit Matteo if he didn’t produce an heir—but concern that his son was becoming emotionally remote and would end up a rich and lonely old man.
‘And then you stepped in and saved him and made him happy. Truly happy—and I cannot thank you enough for that, Keira,’ he had whispered, his voice cracking a little. ‘I know I wasn’t a good father when he was growing up.’ He had fallen silent for a moment and his eyes had grown reflective. ‘I missed his mother so much and he...well, he looked so much like her, that sometimes it was painful to be around him.’
‘Have you told him that, Massimo?’ she had said quietly, pressing her hand over his across the table. ‘Because I think you should.’
And he had. Keira closed her eyes, remembering the long overdue heart-to-heart between father and son, and the growing closeness of their relationship which had resulted.
Her mind flicked back to the present as Matteo began to caress her bottom, murmuring his appreciation that these days she almost always wore a dress. She liked wearing dresses, although she could still resurrect her inner tomboy when needed—and she suspected she was going to need to do that a lot if Santino played as much football as Matteo intended he should. ‘Would you like part of your Christmas present tonight?’ she whispered, snuggling up to him.
He pulled away to look at her and raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that an offer I shouldn’t refuse?’
‘Put it this way—I’m wearing it underneath this dress and I need you to unwrap it for me. Matteo!’ She giggled as he began to lead her towards the bedroom. ‘I didn’t mean now—I meant later.’
‘Too bad,’ he murmured, not lessening his pace by a fraction. ‘Because I have something for you which can’t wait.’
Actually, that wasn’t quite true—he had two things for her. The first was sitting in the garage wrapped in a giant red bow ready to be untied on Christmas morning. A neglected Ferrari 1948 Spider sports car which he’d tracked down with great difficulty and at considerable expense, because she’d once told him it was her dream to restore beautiful vintage cars—and Matteo was rather partial to making his wife’s dreams come true.
The second gift was rather different and he didn’t give it to her until after he’d dealt with her outrageous panty thong with its matching boned bodice, which he damaged beyond repair in his eagerness to unhook it. And once he had her naked, he was distracted for quite some time...
His throat thickened with unexpected emotion as he pulled the small box from his discarded trousers and flipped open the lid to reveal a flawless white solitaire which sparkled like a giant star against dark velvet.
‘What’s this?’ she questioned breathlessly, from among the sheets which were rumpled around her.
He lifted her left hand and slid the solitaire in place above her wedding band. ‘I never gave you an engagement ring, did I? And I didn’t give you a dream wedding either. A civil ceremony in a town hall was never something we were going to enjoy telling our grandchildren about.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. ‘So I wondered if you’d like to renew our vows in my favourite church in Rome. You could wear a big white dress and do it properly this time, and we could throw a party afterwards. Or not—whichever you prefer. What I’m asking is, would you like to marry me again, Keira Valenti?’
Keira opened her mouth to say that she didn’t care about pomp or ceremony, but that wasn’t quite true. And weren’t she and Matteo all about the truth, these days? She thought about something else, too, something which had been niggling away at her for a while now. Because weddings could bring people together and heal old wounds, couldn’t they? Motherhood had changed her. Softened her. She realised now that her aunt might have been strict when she was growing up, but she’d given an orphaned little girl the home she’d badly needed and had stopped her from being taken into care. And didn’t she owe her aunt Ida a great deal for that? Wasn’t it time to invite her and Shelley to Italy, to share in her good fortune and happiness and to introduce Santino to some of her roots?
She wound her arms around Matteo’s neck and looked into his beautiful black eyes, her heart turning over with emotion. ‘Yes, Matteo,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’ll be proud to marry you. To stand before our family and friends and say the thing I’ll never tire of saying, which is that I love you—and I’ll love you for the rest of my life.’
* * * * *
A Diamond for the Sheikh’s Mistress
Abby Green
Scandalous mistress...or desert queen?
Sheikh Zafir Al-Noury cannot forgive model Kat Winters for breaking off their engagement, but he cannot forget their burning-hot nights together. Hiring her to promote his kingdom’s most famous jewel creates an opportunity for renewed seduction...
Walking away from Zafir devastated Kat. The pain has made her strong, but the fire he ignites is stronger yet—Zafir tempts her to complete sensual surrender! Even if that means exposing every part of herself to the man who once ruled her soul...
‘There is no this time. This is just a job for me—that’s all. I’m not interested in anything else.’
Everything in Zafir rejected that, and he lifted one hand to cup Kat’s delicate jawline. Just the silken brush of her hair against the back of his hand had his body hardening all over again.
‘Why are you denying this, Kat? Whatever is between us, it’s mutual. And it’s even stronger than before.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not mutual.’
‘Liar…’ Zafir breathed as every part of his body went on fire with an urgent and undeniable desire to prove Kat wrong. And along with that desire he felt something much more dangerous: emotion.
To block it out, deny it, Zafir cupped his hand behind Kat’s neck and drew her into him until he could feel the length of her willowy body pressed against his. And then he bent his head and covered Kat’s mouth with his, and for the first time in eighteen months the roaring savage heat inside him was momentarily soothed.
It was
