The Impatient Groom by Sara Wood

Author:Sara Wood
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-05-27T04:00:00+00:00

‘Principe!’

‘Flavial’ All smiles suddenly, he hurried forward and, to her astonishment, embraced a grey-uniformed, middleaged maid. There was a little joshing and plenty of laughter and then she was introduced. ‘Flavia has known me all my life,’ he said, as the two women shook hands warmly. ‘Her mother was Father’s cook. Don’t be surprised if you find her giving you advice. Our families are so intertwined that she has an opinion on everything we do—and sometimes she treats me like a brainless brother!’

Sophia gave a weak smile. He spoke again to Flavia and then she left them.

‘Come upstairs to the salon,’ he said lightly. ‘We’ll wait there. I’ve asked Flavia to tell your grandfather we’ve arrived.’

Very much at home in his surroundings, he led the way up the grand double staircase. Sophia swallowed nervously, intimidated by the massive oil paintings of haughty-looking men and women who must be her ancestors.

This was all too much for her to handle! She hesitated, filled with an overwhelming urge to turn tail and run, but Rozzano pressed her hand, moving her on again, and she looked up at him gratefully, glad of his understanding.

But when he spoke she discovered why he was caressing her. It wasn’t out of sympathy at all.

‘I know I shouldn’t be touching you and that makes the situation highly arousing.’ He gave her a wicked glance with his smouldering eyes. ‘We must pretend to be polite strangers when people are around. Hell! I’ll go mad with frustration! I’ll live for the night, when I can sneak to your room and we can make passionate love to one another.’ His voice curled into every corner of her body, heating it, coaxing her with its sensual murmur. He lowered his pitch. ‘Think of it, Sophia! It’ll be fun.’

Fun. Her skin prickled in warning. It was a game to him! A game of ‘don’t touch’, delicious and forbidden—like the games men played with their mistresses when their wives were around.

Fun. Her heart sank. He’d have sexual satisfaction without responsibility. And each day she’d have to pretend she didn’t care for him at all. No. Her mouth firmed in mutiny.

‘I can’t—won‘t—live a lie,’ she said flatly. ‘I had no idea you meant me to pretend that I hardly know you.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not asking you to lie, just to contain your feelings. We’ve both been forced into that strait-jacket before. You’ve been used to doing that all your life,’ he threw back at her in a hoarse rasp, a horrible harshness roughening the normal musical rise and fall of his lyrical voice.

‘And I don’t want to do it again!’ she cried passionately. ‘I want to be what I am! To show emotion when I feel it, to laugh and sing and cry...’

Her voice faded away, her throat blocked with choking misery. She wanted to show her love for him, not to hide it as if it were something shameful.

But a single-minded determination glittered in the unreadable depths of his dark eyes. ‘I understand that.

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