The Italian's Ruthless Seduction

She hadn’t been skinny that night. And her braces had been long gone. Instead, she’d worn make-up and the most exquisite party dress. White, of course. Dolores had known to dress her daughter in white, the colour making her look like an exquisite angel. Unfortunately, a sexy angel as well. Yet Sergio had felt sure she was still a virgin. Dolores would have seen to that.

So Sergio had been startled when Bella had come up to him and demanded a birthday kiss.

‘You’ll have to do, Sergio,’ she’d said without a hint of flirtation. ‘A girl has to be kissed on her sixteenth birthday and you’re the only male here, other than Papa. And he doesn’t count.’

Sergio hadn’t been ready for the effect on him when she’d gone up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. For a split second, he’d been tempted to yank her hard against him, to part her innocent lips and plunge his tongue inside. He certainly hadn’t been an innocent at twenty-one, not after two and a half years at university. But he’d resisted the devil’s urging just in time, keeping the kiss to a platonic peck, which had obviously disappointed Bella, if her pout had been anything to go by.

Well, she’s not an innocent now, he reminded himself as he rose and headed for the bathroom. Time you stopped having cold showers and started having what you’ve always wanted.

Which was Bella herself, in his bed and at his mercy.

CHAPTER SIX

EXCITEMENT AND ANTICIPATION built in Bella the closer she got to the villa. Not long now, she thought eagerly, catching glimpses of the lake through the tall trees.

Suddenly, she no longer felt tired, a burst of adrenalin firing her blood, forcing it to run less sluggishly through her veins. When she’d first exited the plane in Milan, she’d been absolutely wrecked, having managed only the briefest of dozes between stopovers. Unbelievably, she’d forgotten to bring her sleeping tablets with her, which meant she was in for a few sleepless nights at best.

Insomnia was the very devil. Bella hated tossing and turning in bed all night. Hated the negative thoughts that besieged her at such times. Hated the feeling of loneliness, which had been getting worse lately. Still, with a bit of luck the fresh air and change of scene would do what no sleeping tablet could achieve. Make her relax. Make her unwind. Make her work out what she really wanted in life. Because, quite frankly, she wasn’t so sure any more.

There’d been a time when she’d thought she could have it all. An exciting and challenging career on the stage, with a devoted and supportive husband waiting in the wings to take her home afterwards to their lovely home and two happy children. A boy and girl, of course. Nothing but perfection in Bella’s dream world.

It had come as a shock to her as she’d turned thirty last week that she wasn’t even close to living that dream existence, with no hopes of achieving it any time in the near future. Okay, so she still had an exciting and challenging career. On paper. But it didn’t feel as exciting and challenging any more. It just felt like hard work.

As for the idea of a devoted and supportive husband waiting in the wings... That was a pipe dream! Such a man simply did not exist. Men weren’t devoted or supportive. At least, the ones she was attracted to weren’t. They’d all been selfish, arrogant and only wanted her as a notch on their belt, or a status symbol, never as a wife. As for children... Bella knew she could have a baby if she wanted. You didn’t need a husband for that these days. Just a sperm donor. She’d actually considered it—for about thirty seconds, the thought of being a single mother having no appeal whatsoever. She wanted her child—or children—to have a father as well as a mother, a man who actually loved and supported her, and who was hands-on with parenting.

‘Almost there, Signorina Cameron,’ the driver said, startling her out of her introspection.

The driver hadn’t been a talker, thank heavens. But he spoke perfect English, with not too heavy an Italian accent. His name was Luigi and he was about fifty.

‘Yes, I’m beginning to recognise things. I’ve been here before. Though not for several years.’

‘It has not changed. Lake Como. Italy...it does not change much.’

‘No,’ she agreed warmly. ‘That is part of its charm.’

The car pulled into a familiar gravel driveway, coming to a halt in front of tall wooden gates connected to a high stone wall. The gates looked new. The stone wall was not.