Di Sione's Virgin Mistress (The Billionaire's Legacy 5)

Curiosity getting the better of her, she walked up the curving staircase and along a wide corridor, past an open door where she could see Natalia standing in front of a mirror, a heavy silver hairbrush lying by her bare feet. She was wearing a green shift dress—one of the most shapeless garments Willow had ever seen—which did absolutely nothing for her athletic physique.

Instinctively, she winced and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. ‘You’re not wearing that, surely?’

‘What?’ Natalia

looked down at the garment before glancing up again and blinking. ‘This is one of my best dresses.’

‘Okay,’ said Willow doubtfully, going into the room and walking around behind Natalia to see if it looked any better from the back. It didn’t.

‘So what’s wrong with this dress?’ Natalia asked.

Willow shrugged as she looked at Dante’s sister. ‘Honestly? It looks like a green bin bag. Admittedly a very nice shade of green, but still...’ She narrowed her eyes in assessment. ‘Did Dante tell you that I work in fashion?’

Natalia shook her head. ‘Nope. He’s been characteristically cagey about you. If you want the truth, I was pretty surprised to meet you. He once told me that he didn’t think that marriage was for him, and I believed him.’ Her voice softened. ‘That’s why I’m so happy for him, Willow. Sometimes he seems so...alone...despite all the planes and the parties and the money he’s made. I’m so glad he’s found you.’

Willow’s heart clenched with a guilt even though she felt a perverse kind of pride that their farce of togetherness was working so effectively. She turned her attention to Natalia again.

‘You have a knockout figure and gorgeous hair and you don’t do much with either.’

‘I’ve never had to.’

‘But today is different, isn’t it?’ persisted Willow. ‘I mean, it’s meant to be special.’

There was silence for a moment before Natalia answered. ‘Yes.’

Willow glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Look, we have plenty of time. I can see what you have in your wardrobe or we could raid mine. And I’m a dab hand with a needle and thread. Will you let me give you a bit of a makeover? Only if you want to, of course.’

There was a moment of hesitation before Natalia gave Willow the sweetest smile she’d ever seen. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Why not?’

* * *

Dante parked the car and walked slowly to the house, his dark glasses shading his eyes against the bright golden glitter of the day. It was a beautiful day and he should have felt invigorated by the air and the drive he’d just had. He should have felt all kinds of things, but he didn’t.

Because none of this was turning out the way it was supposed to. He’d thought that maintaining a fake relationship with Willow would be easy. He just hadn’t anticipated the reality.

He hadn’t thought through what it would be like, being with her day in and day out, because he had no experience of what it would be like. Because he didn’t do proximity. He slept with women, yes. He loved sleeping with women and occasionally taking them out to dinner or the theatre—but any time he spent with them was doled out in very manageable slots and always on his terms. Yet now he found himself stuck with her in a cottage which seemed way too small and claustrophobic, and with no means of escape. His throat dried. She was there, but not there. She was tantalisingly close, yet he had forbidden himself to touch her, for reasons which seemed less important as each day passed. And now a terrible sexual hunger raged somewhere deep inside him and it was driving him crazy.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself thinking about his twin. Was it being back here, and seeing the great sweep of lawns where they used to climb trees and throw balls, which had made the pain suddenly feel so raw again? He thought about what he’d done to Dario, and how he’d tried to make amends, and the taste in his mouth grew bitter. Because Dario hadn’t wanted amends, had he? There was no forgiveness in his brother’s heart.

Deciding to have some coffee before he faced Willow, Dante walked into the house to hear laughter floating down the curving staircase from one of the upstairs bedrooms. His eyes narrowed—the carefree quality of the sound impacting powerfully on his troubled thoughts. Frowning a little, he followed the unfamiliar sound until he reached his sister’s bedroom, unprepared for the sight which awaited him.

Talia was standing on a chair, and Willow was kneeling on the floor beside it, with pins in her mouth as she tugged at the hem of a beautiful floaty dress quite unlike anything he’d ever seen his sister wear before. And it wasn’t just the dress. He’d never seen Natalia with her hair like that either, or her eyes looking so big. He caught the milky lustre of pearls at her ears—they glowed gently against her skin—and suddenly felt a surge of protectiveness, because this was his baby sister, looking all grown up.

‘What’s going on?’ he said.

Natalia looked up. ‘Hi, Dante.’ She smiled. ‘I’m deciding what to wear to the exhibition of my work.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘But you never go to the exhibition.’

‘Not in the past. But tomorrow night I do,’ she said softly. ‘And Willow has helped me choose what to wear. Isn’t she clever?’

Willow.

For the first time, Dante allowed his gaze to linger on the slim blonde scrambling to her feet, her cheeks slightly pink as she removed a pin from her mouth and dropped it into a little pewter box. Her dress was creased and her legs were bare and he was hit by a wave of lust so powerful that he could feel all the blood drain from his head, to go straight to where his body was demanding it.

He’d left their suite early because he’d felt as if he would explode if he didn’t touch her, and suddenly he began to wonder just what he was doing to himself. Whether pain was such an integral part of his life that he felt duty-bound to inflict it on himself, even when it wasn’t necessary. Was he trying to punish himself by denying himself the pleasure which he knew could be his, if only he reached out and took it? Because Willow hungered for him, just as much as he did for her. He could read it in every movement of her body. The way her eyes darkened whenever she looked at him.

Her carelessness had led to that crazy announcement about them being engaged, but hadn’t he committed far graver sins than that? Hadn’t he once told the biggest lie in the world to his twin brother—a lie by omission. He had stood silent when Dario had accused him of sleeping with his wife, and hadn’t their relationship been in tatters ever since?