Lucy Gordon - The Italian's Passionate Revenge

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He will bed her.
Elise Carlton is looking forward to having her freedom. Years as a trophy wife have left her wary. But there is one man to whom she is not immune…
For revenge and for pleasure!
Vincente Farnese is rich and devastatingly handsome, his own special brand of dark Italian temptation! But it is no coincidence that Vincente has sought out Elise. What will she do when she discovers he wants her only for revenge?

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Secretly, she had to admit that she was glad of her jewels. They were costlier and more glamorous than those of any other woman there, and they marked her out as special.

There was an impressive number of government ministers present, also several film stars. One in particular-a young woman in her twenties who had just scored her first big success in Hollywood-gave Vincente a significant smile that made Elise wonder about their past.

Mentally she shrugged. What was it to her?

Attilo Vansini fulfilled all her expectations, being in his sixties with an unconvincing head of red hair, and an air of bonhomie that was almost violent. He kissed her hand repeatedly, paid a dozen compliments to her looks and demanded that she dance with him first.

‘But not before me,’ Vincente said, sliding his arm possessively around Elise’s waist. ‘After all, this is my bride.’

Vansini gave a riotous laugh. ‘I defer to love.’

Everyone applauded as the music struck up and the bridal couple began to dance, circling the floor alone.

‘He defers to love,’ Vincente said. ‘In their eyes we’re the perfect romantic couple.’

‘Don’t hold me so close,’ she said.

‘But I want to hold you close. I want to feel your legs moving against mine, and dream of how you look beneath that dress.’

‘That doesn’t concern you,’ she said lightly.

He tightened his hand in the small of her back, making her gasp.

‘Your nakedness concerns every man in the room, and if you don’t believe me, look at their faces. There isn’t one of them who wouldn’t take you here and now if he could.’

‘But that’s what you wanted-that they should envy you.’

He’d thought it was, but now he was ready to kill any man who dared turn his eyes on her. Like a malign spell, the words she’d once spoken from the depths of hatred streamed into his mind:

‘…there are going to be others, make no mistake… Are your special little touches yours alone, or do other men know them?…Never mind. I’ll have fun finding out.’

‘Not in a million years,’ he murmured.

‘What did you say?’ she asked.

‘Nothing. There’s such a thing as propriety. Try to remember that.’

‘You mean, us being such a respectable married couple. I’ll do my best.’

She laughed up into his face, knowing that she had him on the rack, and the onlookers smiled fondly to see newly-weds so adoring.

As the music slowed Vansini pounced, detaching Elise from Vincente’s arms almost by force and whirling her away. The orchestra struck up again and suddenly the floor was filled with couples.

For several minutes Vansini entertained her with outrageous compliments, while also praising himself.

‘I make love magnificently,’ he proclaimed. ‘No man is my equal, not even Vincente. Say the word and we’ll put it to the test.’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Any time you want my husband to bring your life to a sudden end, just let me know.’

He roared with laughter and she joined in. The onlookers murmured about how lucky Vincente was to have a wife who could get on the right side of such a useful man. They also made a pretty accurate guess at the conversation.

But then Vansini’s manner changed as he noticed somebody arrive. ‘My son!’ he exclaimed, beaming with pride. ‘At last. Come and meet him.’

He drew her across the floor to introduce her to the most astonishingly handsome young man Elise had ever seen. Carlo Vansini was tall and lithe, with a gentle charm that won her over in the first minute. She danced with him and later in the evening they fell into conversation as they ate from the buffet.

She was aware of Vincente watching her, but she pushed the thought aside. Carlo was saying things that greatly interested her. When he leaned down to speak in her ear she smiled and nodded at the thoughts he was putting into her head.

‘We must meet again,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘and discuss this further.’

‘I live for that moment,’ he said gravely.

She laughed, conscious of Vincente’s burning eyes on her, and returned to her other guests.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ELISE knew that she’d done well at the ball and when it was finally time to bid everyone goodnight and retire to her room she wore a smile of pleasure. There had been a development this evening that greatly pleased her. Things were looking up.

‘Have you come for the diamonds?’ she asked as Vincente appeared. ‘It’s best to lock them away as quickly as possible.’

She was removing them as she spoke, but he whisked them out of her hands and tossed them on to the bed. His face, she was delighted to notice, was that of a man at the end of his tether, and it was no surprise when he seized her in his arms.

‘Shut up,’ he said.

His kiss was everything she wanted-fierce, furious, desperate. She returned it, but only so far.

‘Aren’t you pleased with me?’ she asked when she could speak. ‘Did I impress your guests?’

‘Too damn much,’ he said against her lips.

She laughed and he released her mouth abruptly.

‘I enjoyed myself,’ she said. ‘We have lots of dinner invitations. They all want you to take me to visit them.’

‘They can want.’

‘Nonsense! I’ll be a prize asset. Think of how much business you can do.’

This was true, and the knowledge inflamed him further. How dared she talk to him of business?

‘Unzip me,’ she said, turning away.

He pulled the zip down, down, right down to the swell of her hips and beyond. The gorgeous black dress fell away, revealing her body to his furious eyes. She seemed unaware of his reaction, unaware of him , as she stepped out of the gown.

‘I am really ready for a good night’s sleep,’ she said. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight?’ he said, pulling her around. ‘Am I expected to just go away after the performance you put on tonight?’

‘That’s just it. It was a performance, nothing more. To please you, I’ve let men fawn over me, hold me too tight, kiss my hand, but all I felt was boredom. It’s amazing how boring a man can be.’

‘And you’re very good at the performance, aren’t you?’

‘As good as I have to be. I’ve had a lot of practice.’

‘But it’s not always a pretence, is it. You and I both know that.’

He was reminding her of the time he’d incited her blazing passion only to disappoint her. She hadn’t been pretending then, and the knowledge lay between them now.

Vincente moved gently, laying his hand over one breast, challenging her to feel nothing. His caress was soft, almost tender, and it nearly weakened her. This was dangerous. It brought him too close to being the man she loved, and she would banish that man at all costs. He no longer belonged in her life.

‘Can we have nothing for ourselves?’ he whispered against her neck.

Smiling, she played her ace. ‘But we do have something,’ she said.

She took hold of his hand and moved it from her breast, sliding it down to lie over her stomach.

‘We have this,’ she said. ‘Have you forgotten?’

It was true that he had forgotten. Dazzled by her, tense with frustrated desire, maddened by her elusiveness, he’d lost sight of her as a mother. Now the simple action shocked him into stillness.

The moment was gone. She was a conjurer again, waving a wand and changing herself in a flash from a siren to a matron, carrying his child. Whatever he’d been going to do, he wouldn’t do it now.

‘You’re quite right,’ he said raggedly. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

He gathered up the diamonds. Before leaving, he paused to say, ‘You need not worry about my troubling you again. Goodnight.’

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