Italian Prince, Wedlocked Wife by Jennie Lucas

Author:Jennie Lucas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2008-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

“Chloe!”

Lucy awoke with a start, gasping her daughter’s name in a panic. Sitting straight up in bed, it took her a moment to realize where she was: her bedroom at the Villa Uccello. She’d fallen asleep! Only the dying embers of firelight, coupled with the moon’s pale shimmer through the wide windows, lit the flickering shadows of the room.

“Chloe’s safe,” a voice said from the darkness. “Sleeping.”

Slowly she turned. Maximo was lying next to her on the bed. He was still dressed, apparently wide-awake. As if he’d been keeping watch over her all night.

“Amelia gave her dinner and tucked her into bed,” he said. “She’s in the nursery. Go see.”

Jumping out of bed, Lucy ran across the room. She opened the connecting door and held herself still until she heard her daughter’s steady, even breathing in the darkness. Quietly she closed the door.

Maximo had told the truth. Lucy looked at him in the firelit shadows.

“You stayed with me while I slept. All this time.”

“Sì.”

“Why?”

“You’re my wife.”

She shook her head. She’d already cried so much, she had no tears left.

“I’m not your wife. I’m your trust fund,” she said bitterly.

“Lucia, come back to bed.”

Bed?

She had taken that path once before. Desperate for love, desperate to belong to someone, she grabbed her first chance and held on with all her might. A handsome man. An enormous bed. Soft, tousled sheets. Whispered promises of pleasure and comfort. Luring her—tempting her to her own destruction.

She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Never again.

Maximo reached his hand out to her, palm up. She stared at his wide, powerful hand, so inviting in its pretense of vulnerability. “Lucia—”

“Stay away from me!” she shouted. “I don’t care how well you kiss, or how kind you can be!”

As she spoke the words, she discovered that she had some tears left after all. Folding her arms, she turned toward the fireplace, watching the dying, crackling flames as she willed the tears away.

She heard him get up. Heard him come close behind her. He reached for her chin, forcing her to look at him.

Maximo’s eyes were dark as a midnight sea. His chin was dark with stubble, but he still looked handsome and oh, so dangerous in his sharply cut black shirt and trousers. His sensual mouth curved in a smile as he stroked her tears away.

“I’m not a kind man, cara,” he said. “Do not believe that. But I have seen something in you I admire—the way you insist on the truth. So I will tell you this. Sooner or later, you are going to fall to me. You will come willingly to my bed.”

“I won’t—”

“You will feel great pleasure. But do not mistake that for love. Choose to love me, and I will break your heart. That is what happens to all foolish women who do not heed my warning. I do not wish it to happen to you.”

Her whole body trembled.

“But you are different from the others. You will listen. And obey.” He twined a finger around a dark tendril of hair that had escaped her chignon.

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