Ruthlessly Bedded, Forcibly Wedded

Vicenzo’s gaze dropped to her bare arms. Cara’s breath hitched in her throat. He ran a finger down one arm and a tide of longing ripped through her. She swallowed desperately to wet her suddenly dry throat.

He frowned lightly. ‘Your skin is so pale I’d almost believe you’ve never been in this kind of sun before.’

She hadn’t! Which Cara knew wouldn’t fit with his picture of her as the sister of a corrupt, hedonistic millionaire. She found the strength to pull away. He was just toying with her. ‘Spare me the fake concern,’ she said sharply. ‘I’m sure you’d be only too happy to see me burn to a second-degree crisp.’

Vicenzo’s eyes flashed for a moment, but then he merely stepped back and gestured for her to precede him into the villa. Cara stalked ahead and wondered how she would last here with his mocking mistrust every day. Something would have to happen, but the idea of trying to appeal to a more understanding side of this man was about as attractive as the thought of facing his father that evening.

Cara was shown into a sumptuous bedroom by the smiling housekeeper Vicenzo had introduced as Tommaso’s wife, Lucia. With the language barrier Cara just smiled her thanks and gestured that she would unpack herself.

The house inside was white and bright, with lots of open spaces—a contrast to the very traditional exterior. It was also surprisingly homely. She’d glimpsed a large comfortable-looking sitting room, with a big plasma screen TV and shelves loaded with books. Cara had always had a secret belief that she could get on well with someone who had a lot of books, as she’d always been a voracious reader, but this just proved how wrong you could be. She’d also seen a formal dining room with a huge white damasked table, complete with about twenty matching chairs and a vase of exotic dark red blooms in its centre.

Her own room was also white, and she’d been inordinately relieved to see that it didn’t appear to be Vicenzo’s room. It was too feminine. To be forced to share a bed with him would be just too much, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it together for long. Her belly cramped and she brought a hand to it abstractedly. The patio doors opened out onto a large grass-covered inner courtyard, with stone columns supporting a walkway that led all the way around the interior section of this part of the villa. Pots of blooming flowers lay here and there, creating a charming ambience. There was a hushed peace and stillness that soothed Cara’s soul a little.

A knock came at her door and she opened it warily, to see Vicenzo standing on the other side, changed and looking gorgeous in chinos and a plain white shirt. Damn the man and his effortless ability to make her feel so aware when she hated him so much.

‘I’ll come for you at eight for dinner.’

Cara spoke quickly, trying to negate this effect he had. ‘I saw where the dining room was. I can find it—’

‘We will go together—as will be expected. My father uses another part of the villa, but he will undoubtedly expect us to be sharing the marital bed.’ He stepped closer then, and Cara moved back automatically, her heart skittering, that cramping feeling stronger. Vicenzo just smiled. ‘And while we will be sleeping together, Cara, I’m sure you can appreciate that I’ve no desire to share a bed with you for any longer than is necessary.’

Cara swallowed back the feeling of panic that never seemed to be far from the surface, the hurt at his words once again. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, you’re blocking my door.’

With a last mocking smile that she itched to slap off his face he stepped back, and Cara just about managed to restrain herself from slamming the door.

At eight that evening Cara and Vicenzo approached the dining room door. Her belly clenched, and the cramping feeling was strong enough now to make her forehead bead with sweat. She put it down to her nerves, and smoothed damp palms on the dress she’d changed into. It was plain and black, high-necked and falling to her knees—as inoffensive as she could find for meeting Vicenzo’s father. She was very aware of the pain this man must have gone through, and felt huge guilt on behalf of her brother for the wake of destruction he’d left behind him.

Blissfully unaware of her turmoil, Vicenzo took her elbow, led her into the room and introduced her to his father. She immediately saw an old lined face, darkened from the sun, silver hair, and surprisingly bright eyes. Cara had the immediate impression that he was kind. Kind, but sad, and her heart flopped over. Oh, God. No doubt Vicenzo was going to enjoy every minute of this. No doubt this was part of his plan to bring her here, face to face with the devastation caused by her brother’s actions.

As she walked hesitantly towards him at the head of the table, she also became aware that he sat in a wheelchair. She stopped beside him and did something completely instinctive. She came down on one knee so that they were on the same level. An unbidden emotion rose up within her. She couldn’t help it, even though she could feel Vicenzo’s eyes bore into her back, his tension spike.

She said huskily, ‘Signore Valentini, I’m so sorry for your loss, and I—’

He surprised her by reaching for her hand and saying with a heavy accent, ‘Hush, child. It was an awful accident. We lost our beautiful vibrant Allegra.’

Cara gave him her hand and willed down the intense emotion being here, facing him. His grip was surprisingly strong. Vicenzo’s father lifted her hand high, gesturing for her to stand, and she did. Vicenzo had come to the other side of his father’s chair, and now his father reached out to take his hand too. The old man looked from one to the other. Cara avoided catching Vicenzo’s eyes, sure that they would hold a mocking expression, and she couldn’t bear to see that right now.

His father spoke quietly. ‘You two have come together to make something beautiful—a marriage and a baby. That gives me joy.’ With a squeeze he let go of their hands, and then said with overbright joviality, ‘Now, let’s eat!’

The housekeeper came in and served food, and as Cara sat down his words rocked through her, affecting her more than she cared to admit. She’d expected him to be like his son—cold and cynical and mistrustful. But he wasn’t. And with a little ache in her heart she had to concede that she already liked him and would hate for him to be hurt in any way.

As they were finishing coffee at the end of dinner Signore Valentini said emphatically, following something Cara had said, ‘Enough of this formality. You must call me Silvio.’ He suddenly looked drawn and tired. ‘And you must also excuse me. I’m afraid since my stroke I tire easily.’

Cara went to stand, but he automatically waved her down. Vicenzo stood to help with his father’s chair, and a male nurse appeared in the doorway, nodding deferentially to Vicenzo as he took Silvio away.

When they were gone Vicenzo sat back in his chair and drawled, ‘Well, you’ve made quite the impression. It’s amazing to see you in action. But then I’ve had first-hand experience of it, haven’t I?’

Cara bristled. ‘Unlike yourself, your father is a gentleman. He’s easy to like.’

The barb merely bounced off him. He leant forward, and Cara tried not to be aware of him in the snowy white shirt that hugged his broad chest.

‘You’ve seen what he’s like. Despite his experiences he’s an old, sentimental romantic—but I’ve always made it very clear to him not to expect that from me. Allegra was going to fulfil that role in our family—marry and have babies. If your brother had had his way she would have returned home here with shattered dreams and a messy divorce, fleeced of her inheritance. If you try to take advantage of his soft heart, I will take you down.’

‘Down where?’ Cara cried a little wildly. ‘As far as I can see I’m already in the gutter.’

He gestured around them. ‘In the lap of luxury like this? I think not. Your pregnancy is the only reason you’re here, enjoying this.’

Cara felt a vice-like feeling around her heart as the words trembled on her lips to