The Impatient Groom (12 page)

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Authors: Sara Wood

BOOK: The Impatient Groom
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Alberto sighed in sympathy. ‘We'll leave it all to him, shall we?'
‘Does he take a salary for the work he does?' she asked innocently.
Her grandfather chuckled. ‘He doesn't need money! He's probably richer than I am! I'm afraid his family did rather well out of the Crusaders,' he confided. ‘Charged them exorbitant prices for accommodation on their way to the Holy Land. No, Sophia. He runs the business because he is that kind of man—though I think he would like more time to check on his publishing empire.'
So he didn't need money. Unless he was greedy, and had empire-building plans. Her eyes gleamed. Vowing that she would take the reins, that Rozzano wouldn't run rings around her, she pressed his hand in excitement.
‘We must give him more time to himself. I think I should know the ins and outs of D'Antiga's. I want to become familiar with every aspect of the business.' Her face was alive with enthusiasm. 'If there's anything I don't understand, Rozzano can explain over and over again until I've got it. I'll work hard, Grandfather, and you'll be proud of me!'
‘Such fire! Such drive!' he admired wistfully. ‘I admire you, Sophia. I have no fears about turning our fortune over to your care.'
‘I'll start tomorrow,' she promised.
Her eyes flashed in Rozzano's direction but he was murmuring into the receiver as if talking to a lover, his body leaning comfortably against the cream panelled shutters, his free hand idly tracing the gold leaf cherub in the centre.
Something sharp and hot sliced into her body. Love and hate, ice and fire. Every movement he made was sensual, graceful even. The soft arc of his mouth caressed his words lovingly. His thick fringe of lashes fluttered appealingly on to-die-for cheekbones. His stance was relaxed—but he gave the impression of suppressed energy and drive nevertheless. And he was smiling with satisfaction... rather like a panther after a kill.
Her body melted to the core. She wanted him. And hated him too.
‘My ancestors began by trading spices from the Orient, you know,' her grandfather said, his eyes far away as he focussed on some distant memory. ‘Then we changed to specialising in perfumes—'
‘Mother had wonderful perfumes!' Sophia cried shakily.
‘Did she?' D‘Antiga's mouth quivered. 'Forgive me,' he said emotionally. 'Forgive me the wrong I did to her!'
She held his shaking hands in hers and on an impulse drew them to her warm cheek. ‘Let's forget the past,' she said unsteadily. ‘We'll talk about Mother another day, shall we?'
‘Bless you, child, for your compassion. And now, if you'll excuse me, I am tired. We will have lunch tomorrow, yes? Press that bell if you will, for the nurse. Thank you. Oh...ask Rozzano to arrange for me to see a lawyer to change my will in your favour. I am impressed by what Rozzano has told me about you, dear child. A young woman who cares for her sick father for so many years must have very special qualities.' He kissed her affectionately.
‘Ciao, Sophia.
You've made me happy again.'
Lovingly she embraced him. Rozzano hastily broke off his call and accompanied her grandfather to the door, his hand resting lightly on the old man's shoulder. And when they parted Sophia was unwillingly touched by the little bow that Rozzano gave, a bow of respect and affection.
But now she had the answer to all her niggling doubts, all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that wouldn't fit. Rozzano had pursued her because she embodied everything he wanted: the
palazzo,
the D‘Antiga fortune, a gullible mind and, she thought grimly, child-bearing hips.
Perfect. What more could a mercenary Venetian prince want? The pain seemed to shrink her heart but she set her teeth against it. She wouldn't allow him to hurt her. He wasn't worth grieving over.
‘I'm tired too,' she announced coolly when they were
alone again. ‘I'll go to my room and unpack and perhaps wander around the house—'
‘Of course. Let me know when you're ready,' he said quickly, ‘and I'll escort you—'
‘No, thanks. I want to take my time and explore on my own.'
‘Sweetheart! You don't have to keep up the distant manner when we're in private,' he said softly.
Her blazing eyes challenged his. ‘Will anger do instead?' she snapped.
‘Sophia! What—?'
‘Don't come near me!' she spat. ‘You didn't tell me your late wife was a D'Antiga! You didn't say you were my grandfather's heir! Why, Rozzano? Did you have a secret agenda? Would you like to share it with me?'
He stared, struck speechless by her outburst.
‘Lost for words?' she taunted. ‘Surely not! You, the most glib-tongued man I've ever met? You must have been appalled when you discovered my mother had given birth to a child—'
‘If you remember correctly,' he replied tautly, ‘I was delighted.'
She frowned, confused. Yes. That was how it had seemed. Uncertainly she eyed him, trying to work out why, but he spoke before she could come up with an answer.
‘You were the reason I didn't tell you I'd become the D'Antiga heir,' he snapped, his face stiff with contained anger. 'You were thinking of turning down your inheritance for several reasons of your own, weren't you?'
‘Yes, but—
‘So why didn't I encourage your doubts?'
Her frown deepened. ‘I don't know—'
‘I could have worked on your fears but I didn't,' he
bit out. ‘I kept quiet about my connection with your grandfather because I could see you had unusually high moral standards, and I felt that you might be uncomfortable at the thought of disinheriting me. I was anxious not to put any obstacle in your way. I wanted you to acknowledge your link to your grandfather, for
his
sake.'
She chewed this over for a moment. ‘OK, what about later, when I was more sold on the idea?' she shot at him. ‘You had a chance to tell me then!'
Sadness touched his eyes and mouth for a brief moment. And then his expression became a mask. ‘We seemed to be busy with other things,' he said quietly. ‘Falling in love, for instance.'
The wound pierced through her. In anguish, she hung her head. She couldn't stand the sight of him any longer. Part of her wanted to run to him, to find that scrap of love and warmth which he'd shown her and to wrap herself in it. Part of her wanted to pummel his chest and scream away her fury at being deceived.
‘I'm going to my room,' she muttered. ‘No! Don't show me! There are maids, aren't there?'
But his body barred the door. Suddenly he looked large and intimidating, the blackness of his eyes piercing her with their chilling anger.
‘You're wrong about me,' he said tautly. His head went up and he looked down his patrician nose at her, silently demanding her capitulation and an abject apology.
‘Maybe you're wrong about me!' she flung. That's the danger of not knowing anything about one another! I did warn you, Rozzano!'
Silver lights flashed across the dark eyes. ‘Meaning?'
‘Maybe I'm not as submissive as you think—'
‘All the better. I want a wife who is my equal,' he replied exasperatingly, ruining her defiant stance.
‘Do you?' she challenged. ‘A woman who defies you? Wilfully disagrees with everything you wish? No, I thought not!' she declared, seeing the gradual tightening of his mouth. ‘Don't imagine that because I'm a vicar's daughter I'll roll over like a doting dog and accept everything you do! I'm not a simple sweetie with a heart of gold. I have feelings. Opinions of my own—'
‘I don't expect obedience. What a ridiculous idea!' he said quickly. ‘But you have the sense to see when a course of action is wise—'
‘Suddenly I'm tired of being wise. Sometimes I feel like going off the rails. Maybe I'll blow my inheritance!' she said wildly. ‘All this could go to a girl's head!' she declared, waving a hand at the sumptuous room.
‘Not you,' he said, with even more irritating confidence. ‘You're steady and sensible and your values are rock-solid. All your life you've learnt to be careful with money and suspicious of superficial trappings. Those are qualities I admire and respect, Sophia.'
He was right, of course. If he'd hoped for a prudent wife, he'd chosen well. But some contrary devil in her wanted to taunt him, to make him as edgy as she'd been, to bring doubts into his mind. And what better than to suggest she'd spend, spend, spend?
‘Too much scrimping and saving can make you want to break out,' she declared hotly. ‘My priorities are changing. I'm beginning to enjoy the feel of beautiful fabrics against my skin, for instance. As I said earlier, designer clothes make me feel powerful. I adore them.' She allowed a little smile to play about her lips, enigmatic, enticing and deliberately hurtful. ‘I intend to go
on a gigantic buying spree. What's the use of a fortune if it's not enjoyed to the full?'
There was a horrible silence. Suddenly she hated herself. With apparent calm, she tilted up her chin and looked directly at him. His mouth was drawn tight, his eyes so cold that she shivered from their icy blast.
Bingo. She'd hit the spot. Her stomach churned.
‘What happened to your charitable intentions?' he asked, shrivelling her with his contempt.
Sophia felt sick. In a matter of hours she'd become a mercenary shrew and her happiness had been hijacked. They'd been engaged and happy. Now they were sniping at one another. Somehow she hardened her eyes.
‘I will do what I wish with my own money,' she said with a glacial stare.
She recognised the signs of his rising temper. The rock-like jaw, high shoulders, inflated chest and the utter stillness of his face, as if it were made from tempered steeL
When he spoke, however, his words were quiet and frighteningly controlled. ‘You're tired. I noticed how pale you were, earlier. This has been a strain. We'll talk when you've had a rest Remember, Sophia, that I'm the only one who knows anything about D'Antiga's affairs. Don't underestimate your need for me. You would be wise to give me your trust.'
‘Trust?' she exploded. ‘I wouldn't trust you to buy me an ice-cream!'
‘You must!' He grabbed her arms. ‘If you don't—‘
“Threaten me and I'll have you thrown out!' she yelled in fury.
He went white. ‘You've got it all wrong!' he grated through his teeth.
‘Have I?' She was close to tears. She'd wanted him.
Loved him. And now look at them! Scrapping like kids in the playground, ready to tear one another limb from limb... His grip hadn't eased. She flashed him a scything look. ‘Let go or I scream!' she hissed.
‘
Sophia!'
The cry came from deep within him, a raw, visceral growl of anguish.
His mask had slipped, revealing a profound misery that shocked her to the core. He caught her face between his hands and crushed her mouth beneath his.
She tried to protest and made a feeble attempt to struggle but it convinced neither of them. In a moment his arms were around her and she was silently despairing because the feel of his body was sending thrills through her nerves. And, heaven help her, she wanted him still.
CHAPTER SIX
 
S
HE smelt so wonderful, tasted so good... He let his lips soften and parted them slightly so their sensitive inner surfaces could savour her heart-stopping sweetness.
Her voice whispered tremulously in his ear, imploring him unconvincingly to stop. But he couldn't. In the back of his mind he was aware that he was being indiscreet, that this was not the place or the time to give in to his overwhelming needs. No gentleman would behave so badly. But right now he didn't care. He had to touch her. Kiss her. Repair the damage that had been done.
Quickly his arm snaked out to the nearest chair, which he jammed beneath the twin door handles. And then his fingers were in her hair, gently moving over her warm scalp and releasing the elusive, tantalising perfume he associated with her. The curve of her head rested perfectly in one hand, the more voluptuous dip of her waist surrendering to the other.
And all the while his mouth moved over hers, slowly smoothing its tight anger into soft compliance. He had to obliterate her doubts. Now. Before Enrico met her.
There was a subtle change in her body—a weakening combined with a desperate urgency. And his responded, jerking with such a fierce desire and relief that he had to press her hard against him and kiss her more passionately to ease his ravenous hunger.
The soft cushions of her breasts burned through his shirt, each hard centre thrusting in erotic demand. She moaned and threw her head back. The sight of her beautiful
throat and its vulnerability was too much. His mouth drifted over the silken skin with delicate, frustrating restraint.
Along her collarbone, one shoulder to the other. In the little hollow, warm, pulsing...
He shuddered as his drowsy eyes contemplated the alluring swell of her breasts above the scooped neckline. And, unable to do otherwise, he stealthily eased down her zip and bent his head to close his mouth over one turgid nipple.
She was moaning and kissing him, clutching at his shoulders in agonised pleasure. The heat in his loins became unbearable. Lifting his head to kiss her, he allowed his hand to explore her perfect breast, so soft, swollen with desire, its peak dark and throbbing beneath his fingertips.
He felt her hands tearing at his shirt buttons, sliding impatiently beneath the fabric. A groan whispered from his lips as she touched him, inexpertly—but with the instincts of a siren.
Her tongue slid around his, destroying his self-control entirely. He wanted her softness beneath him, to run his hands over her naked body, to kiss every inch and bring it to life till she was equally aroused and in need of him.
‘Sophia,' he muttered roughly in her tiny ear, and he couldn't resist gently nibbling it, revelling in her answering spasm as her loins contracted. ‘How I love you!'
He froze. Had he said that?
‘
Rozzano!
' she breathed, her voice trembling with a heartbreaking sweetness.
He felt her frantic fingers fumbling for his belt. His eyes closed in a fierce attempt to gain control of himself. But already he was caressing her softly rounded hips, his hands intent on one thing only. With a groan of utter
helplessness, he swung her around till her back was against the soft Fortuny fabric that clothed the wall.
His mouth tasted her breasts. Eased down her dress inch by delicious inch, the fever in his body at explosion point Slowly he kissed and nibbled along her hipbone and across her faintly rounded stomach. She gasped and cried, her hands grasping at his hair in desperation, her legs trembling as he touched and caressed his way to the soft moistness which lay waiting for him.
‘Oh, please, please!' she begged, when he hesitated.
She was beautiful. His eyes devoured her hungrily. Her eyes were almost black and gleaming with desire. Her lips were parted, red and swollen, sweetly soft against her gleaming white teeth. As she panted with need, the high, firm globes of her breasts lifted and jutted out for his touch. A faint film of sweat slicked her body, giving its curves a silvery shimmer of such beauty that he felt choked.
A strange emotion filled his head. Something beyond the physical. A kind of...joyous soaring. He dragged in a ragged breath, shaken by its intensity.
‘My lovely Sophia!' he whispered thickly.
And his tongue curled around her sweetness and he felt as if he were entering paradise.
 
She lay later, trembling in his arms, her mind a blank—a delicious languor which kept all thoughts at bay and allowed her to bask in the wonderful sensations curling through her entire nervous system.
He loved her.
She felt like a goddess. Even now, sated and content, he was running his hands gently over her body and marvelling over it in a sleepy murmur which pulled at her heartstrings.
They sprawled on a huge damask couch and she could hear the sounds of life going on outside: a waterman's cry, a child laughing, the roar of a reversing boat engine and the ever-present lapping of the silky green water against the palace walls. Sun streamed in on them, warming her body deliciously.
She touched him in wonder. He was such a beautiful pale gold, his chest well toned and powerful. Lightly she ran her fingers down to his hard stomach. And coloured up at what that did to him.
‘You blush now, after making love to me?' he teased gently.
She couldn't look at him. She would never have believed that she could have kissed away his hunger with such wanton abandon. A little shudder rippled through her. His reaction had been incredible. She'd made him groan and beg, cry aloud in hoarse longing. And his exquisite paroxysms as he'd reached his climax had been echoed inside her as her own body—inflamed by her love for him—had responded to his pleasure.
She had wanted more. They had both ached for the final union. But Rozzano had restrained his own passion and with words and gentling kisses he had calmed her, reminding her that she longed to be a virgin on her wedding night.
‘I love you!' she whispered.
His mouth covered hers and he touched her again. She felt her head empty, her body become fluid as his fingers teased and tormented. This time her climax was prolonged—one deep, mind-blowing pinnacle of emotion after another.
And then she quivered in the circle of his arms again, refusing to think about anything but the feel of his heart
thudding against hers, the softness of his hair beneath her fingers and the deep peace of her body.
 
Over the course of the next week, she fell more deeply in love. Each morning, he worked with her in the magnificent library, their voices muffled by the richly bound books lining the walls and the priceless carpet beneath their feet. They sat at their antique desks opposite one another—just as Queen Victoria had faced her beloved Albert.
With great patience, Rozzano guided her through the complexities of the D‘Antiga portfolio and explained how he had managed—and increased—the family wealth. Gradually she began to realise how hard he must have worked to achieve this. And to her delight she discovered that he had donated a good deal of money to charities, particularly for the elderly and the very young.
Now, cool and elegant in a cream embroidered camisole and matching jacket, with coffee silk trousers, she hurried to the library after lunching alone with her grandfather. The previous night, Rozzano had flown to Milan for a meeting with his brother and she had been astounded by how much she'd missed him.
She waited impatiently, pacing up and down, checking her watch. He'd phoned her to say he was on the launch, that he'd be there very soon, and to wait in the library because he couldn't pretend to greet her politely and he wanted to kiss her breathless.
Her heartbeat clamoured in her breast as she heard footsteps outside. She whirled to face the door. And there he was.
Hungrily her loving eyes took in every detail: the tenderness in his face as his glance caressed every inch of her body, the immaculate Milanese suit, its severe charcoal
colour relieved by a fine white stripe. The very perfection of him.
For several heart-stopping moments they gazed at one another and then he strode forward, enveloping her in his embrace.
‘I've missed you!' he whispered in her ear. And he proceeded to prove that.
‘Rozzano!' she protested feebly, when it seemed he was intent on stripping her. ‘Later! We have so much to do! Wedding plans, our afternoon explorations of Venice—oh, I've loved seeing the city.'
‘I just...needed to touch you,' he said shakily.
She smiled and wondered if he needed reassurance too. ‘I want to touch you all the time,' she admitted.
Then... How's your grandfather?' he asked eagerly.
‘Very well,' she said, surprised by his manner. ‘I think he's improving every day—'
‘Let's tell him, Sophia!' he urged, his eyes dark and shining. ‘Just him, no one else. He'll be so pleased. He adores you—'
‘And he adores you.' When he began to kiss her again, she pushed him away, laughing. ‘I give in!'
‘He'll be having his siesta now, so...when he wakes—before we go out,' he persisted.
His enthusiasm was disarming. ‘All right, Rozzano!' she said, pretending to sigh heavily. He chuckled and wandered over to his desk. ‘To be honest,' she said, coming to perch on it, ‘I did wonder if he'd put two and two together about us. He kept asking leading questions. So I diverted him and made him tell me about my mother.'
Rozzano leant back in his chair. ‘I hope you both cleared the air.'
‘I don't bear grudges.' She fiddled with her new diamond watch. ‘He doesn't know why she didn't return and
claim her inheritance, only that she'd sworn never to put her trust in the material world ever again.'
‘Quite a sacrifice,' he commented, his eyes watchful.
‘I think she was happier with Father than she was here. I feel sad for the life she led. It seems she never knew who her true friends were, and which of them were after her money—'
‘It's a problem,' he said gently, his steady gaze never wavering from her face.
‘I can understand that. She complained that she was expected to pay for everything. People envied and resented her. And she had two disastrous love affairs. Her lovers only wanted the lifestyle she could give them. That's when Grandfather urged her to marry your father. He thought he could save her heartache by giving her security. She felt undervalued as a person, Rozzano. That's why she gave up everything for Father, who hadn't a clue who she was until she told him on the plane to England. It must be terrible to be wanted for your money.'
‘Come here, sweetheart,' he murmured, seeing her distress. Drawing her onto his knee, he cuddled her closely. ‘I've had my share of gold-diggers and hangers-on. Wealth can be a barrier. It attracts greed. Sometimes those who have it become selfish and shallow because they don't need to fight and struggle in life. They get lazy and search for more and more outrageous ways to enliven their empty lives. That's why I want to protect you,' he said, kissing her temple. ‘Keep you safe. You're too precious to me for anyone to spoil'
She coiled her arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘Thank you,' she said simply, ashamed that she'd ever doubted him. ‘I'm glad I met you and not some povertystricken
charmer, or a playboy hell-bent on using me as a wallet!'
‘Sure.' A little abruptly, he pushed her off his lap. ‘Shall we get down to work?'
‘Tell me first, how was your brother?'
‘Oh, in fine spirits as usual.' After a brief hesitation, he said, ‘We came back on the same plane. He's arranged a surprise welcome party for you.'
She beamed. ‘Great! When?'
‘Tonight.' He frowned. ‘Short notice. I'm not sure we can—'
‘We must!' she insisted. ‘He must have gone to a great deal of trouble. Besides, we're not doing anything else. Not,' she said with a wicked look, ‘until
much
later tonight.'
‘I would have preferred to have gone to bed early,' Rozzano said.
Sophia smiled in pleasure because he'd sounded curt, as if he was trying to control his hunger. ‘I know. But think of the anticipation!' she murmured, her senses alive with excitement even now.
‘Yes.' His eyes gleamed. ‘Don't be surprised if I eat you alive tonight!'
She shuddered deliciously. ‘Ditto!' she breathed throatily.
‘Hell.' He set his jaw. ‘I must get my mind off you! OK. Wedding plans,
contessa
!' he said, suddenly all efficient, the tremor in his jaw touchingly betraying his feelings. ‘Then, after breaking our news to Alberto, I'm taking you out to show you the difference between a Titian and a Tintoretto.'
She rolled her eyes. ‘Heavens! You're educating me now!'

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