Phantom Marriage

ying some poor girl just to secure an heir. Who cared about carrying on bloodlines and family names these days? It was archaic.

Leonardo hurried as he headed for the path which led up to the villa.

Still…it probably was a mistake to stay the whole night with Veronica. He’d always kept his sex life away from Capri. He’d never brought a girlfriend to his parents’ hotel, knowing that it was a bad idea. He came here to relax, not get himself into a total twist. Laurence’s villa used to be his sanctuary, his refuge. When he’d sat on the terrace, soaking in the view and sipping some of Laurence’s fine wine, all his inner demons used to slip away. He hadn’t thought about that awful time when the true love of his life—competitive skiing—had been snatched away. He hadn’t paced around like he did in his office. He hadn’t needed sex to distract him. He’d actually relaxed.

He wasn’t relaxed now, was he?

Hell, no. That witch of a girl had undone him, big time.

Leonardo charged up the stone steps two at a time, lust making him impatient.

The sliding glass door being open made him laugh. Not too worried about security now, eh, Veronica? Her mind was obviously on other things. He’d felt the sexual tension in her in the taxi. Seen the desire in her dilated eyes.

She wouldn’t need much foreplay the first time, he decided as he walked in, dumped his bag in the guest room then went to look for her. The whole day had been foreplay.

When he heard the shower running, Leonardo strode purposefully in its direction.

He’d never actually been in Laurence’s bedroom before. But it was a mirror image of the guest bedroom at the other end of the house, just with different furnishings. The bathroom was exactly the same too, the floor and walls covered in grey-and-white marble tiles.

Veronica was in the shower. Naked, of course, her nudity obscured slightly by the glass screen. Even so, he stared.

He hadn’t seen her naked before. God, but she was lovely. He adored every inch of her slender but very feminine figure. She had just enough breast. Just enough everything. Leonardo had never been attracted to voluptuous women. He preferred athletic-looking girls.

She must have sensed him standing there in the doorway, staring at her, because suddenly her head whipped round and their eyes met through the wet glass. Did she blush, or was it the heat of the water making her cheeks pink?

When he stepped forward and slid back the screen, she snapped off the taps, then spun round to face him, nervously touching her hair that she’d bundled up on top of her head.

‘I… I didn’t think you’d be this quick,’ she said shakily. ‘And I was hot.’

That she was, he thought. But he wasn’t crass enough to say so. Instead, he handed her one of the two white towels hanging nearby. She grabbed it and wrapped it around her dripping body, her eyes still touchingly vulnerable. Surely she couldn’t be shy? She certainly hadn’t been last night.

‘I might have a quick shower myself,’ he said. ‘I could do with cooling down a bit.’

And wasn’t that the truth. Leonardo already planned to make it an icy cold shower. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of last night’s performance. He’d acted like some randy school boy, unable to control himself.

‘Why don’t you get us both a couple of glasses of wine?’ he suggested. ‘And I’ll be with you ASAP.’

‘Oh. Oh, all right. Does it matter what wine?’

‘No. Whatever Carmelina put in the fridge is okay with me.’

* * *

Veronica tried not to think as she went in search of the wine; tried not to feel embarrassed at his catching her in the shower. After all, he wasn’t embarrassed. She suspected that nothing embarrassed him. Certainly not nudity.

There were several bottles of white wine in the door of the fridge. Veronica selected a Chablis, then searched the kitchen cupboards for glasses. There were lots, especially wine glasses. One set attracted her. They were quite large, but with long, fine stems in a beautiful shade of green glass. Was it her father who’d liked green glass? she wondered. Or his wife?

This last thought reminded Veronica how quickly she’d been distracted from her quest to find out everything she could about her father. It was all Leonardo’s fault, she decided when he walked in, obviously naked beneath the white towel draped low around his hips.

Lord, but he was just so beautiful; the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She couldn’t think of any model or movie star who could compare. He was just so perfect. His face. His skin. His body.

It was his body she kept staring at now. She’d become rather used to his handsome face and his lovely olive skin. But she wasn’t used to seeing this much of his gorgeous body. Last night was just a blur in her mind. Over far too quickly. Her heart pounded as her eyes travelled over him from head to toe.

Talk about every woman’s fantasy come true!

Veronica had always been attracted to fit men. Not the muscle-bound, weight-lifting type. She preferred the runners and the rowers, men with flab-free stomachs and long, strong legs. Leonardo had all that and more. His shape was perfection in her eyes, from his naturally broad shoulders to his flat stomach, his small waist and slim hips anchored by long, sexy legs.

Her hand surprised her when it didn’t shake as she handed him a glass of wine.