A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir(24)

Except she hadn't had to resist him at all lately. At least not personally.

He hadn't touched Scarlett in bed since their baby was born. It had been  two months now since they'd last made love. At first, healing from the  birth and exhausted from waking up with their baby, sex had been the  last thing on Scarlett's mind. But now her body was starting to feel  normal again, though she hadn't quite lost all the baby weight, and her  breasts were still very full. Did he not find her attractive anymore?

She tried to ignore the feelings of rejection. She focused on the baby,  who was growing chubby and starting to babble and coo. She made friends  with her neighbors and started private Italian lessons with Mrs.  Spinoza, a kindly widow who lived down the street. But it hurt.

Then one day while she was despondently surfing the internet, she had an idea about how to bring them close again.

According to what she read, men's needs were simple. Food. Home. Sex.

All she had to do was turn herself into the perfect wife.

Step one. Food. A man's heart was through his stomach, according to what  she read online. So Scarlett learned how to cook. She started with  boiling water, but within a week, she'd graduated to simple, fresh pasta  dishes, which Wilhelmina tasted and pronounced, with some surprise, to  be "delicious."

Vin didn't notice, of course. He generally got home late at night and  would eat whatever wrapped dinner plate he found in the fridge, by the  light of his computer at the dining table at midnight, usually long  after Scarlett had gone to bed. But she learned new skills when he  wasn't looking.

Step two. Home. A man's house was his castle. Make it warm and  comfortable, and he'd never want to leave it. She looked around their  newly remodeled, redecorated home. Check.

Step three. Sex.

For Scarlett, this was the hardest thing of all.

But on Christmas Eve morning, she woke up knowing that it was now or never. Today was the day.

She felt like Vin had barely talked to her in weeks. He always made an  effort to play with the baby right before work, but all Scarlett seemed  to get from him were cold lectures when she evaded her security detail  or told her assigned bodyguard, Larson, he didn't need to follow her.  Which was exactly what she was getting this morning, too.

"Stop it." Vin glowered at her, coldly handsome in his suit and tie. "I  specifically assigned Larson to keep you safe. Don't make it so hard for  him to do his job."

Still wearing her nightshirt and white fluffy robe, Scarlett rolled her  eyes. "You seriously think I'm going to be attacked on the streets of  Rome in broad daylight while I'm pushing the stroller to Mrs. Spinoza's  apartment? It's silly! How am I supposed to practice my Italian with  Larson glaring at her through his sunglasses? He makes her so nervous  she stutters!"

"I mean it, Scarlett," Vin replied. "Either do what I tell you and let him do his job, or..."

"Or what?"

His jaw was tight. "I can't answer for the consequences."

Then he coldly left the villa, briefcase in hand. Without so much as a goodbye kiss!

She prayed her outrageous plan would solve everything. Otherwise, she  was about to make a horrible fool of herself. But she had to take the  chance. As her father had always said, if you want things to change,  change yourself.

The moment Vin left the villa for work, Scarlett got to work, too. The  enormous tree was delivered to the great hall, along with boxes of  beautiful decorations. She sent the last members of the household staff  on surprise vacation, leaving Scarlett and the baby alone in the villa,  with her bodyguard, Larson, at the tiny gatehouse across their private  cobblestoned drive.

Holding Nico on her hip, Scarlett decorated the tree herself, talking  happily to her baby, singing him Christmas songs, including one in  Italian. Later, she started a roaring fire in the enormous fireplace and  prepared a dinner she thought Vin would love. Leaving the sauce  simmering on the stove as evening started to fall, she gave her sleepy  baby his dinner and bath, changed him into his footsie pajamas and  tucked him into the nursery.   





 

After Nico was safely asleep, she went into her luxurious master  bathroom and started a bath. She groomed herself as carefully as a bride  on her wedding night-the wedding night they'd never actually had, since  she'd gone into labor on her wedding day-and moisturized her body with  lotion to make her skin soft as silk. She brushed out her long red hair  until it gleamed.

She didn't get dressed. Following the advice she'd read online, she left  off her clothes entirely, for maximum visual impact. Not even lingerie.  Not even panties. She just covered her naked body with only an  old-fashioned pinafore apron.

Then Scarlett waited, terrified and breathless, for Vin to come home from work.

Tonight, she would tell him she loved him.

And then he'd tell her he loved her, too, and their lifetime of happiness would begin.

Either that, or...

She shuddered, caught between longing and terror as she waited for the door to open.



As Vin stepped out of his chauffeured Bentley into the frosted darkness of his street, he felt bone-weary.

It was late on Christmas Eve night, almost ten o'clock. He gave a low  curse as he looked at his expensive watch. "I'm sorry, Leonardo," he  told his driver in Italian. "I've kept you from your family. Thank you  for staying."

"No problem, Mr. Borgia." His driver beamed at him. "The Christmas bonus  you sent is sending our whole family on vacation to the Caribbean next  month. My wife also appreciated the delicious homemade panettone from  Mrs. Borgia." He kissed his fingertips expressively. "Delizioso."

Vin stared at him blankly.

"I need to thank you, too, boss," Beppe, his bodyguard on duty,  interrupted. The hulking man actually blushed. "I used the bonus to buy  an engagement ring for my girlfriend. I'm giving it to her tomorrow  morning. And Mrs. Borgia's panettone was delicious. I ate the whole cake  watching last night's game."

Vin was shocked. Scarlett had learned how to bake? She'd arranged  Christmas gifts for his staff? And not just the practical gift of money,  but a personal gift of homemade Christmas cake? "Oh. Yes." He cleared  his throat. "I'm glad you liked it."

He hadn't even known. Hadn't realized.

But then, he'd been distracted lately. As his bodyguard raced ahead to  enter the security code, Vin trudged to the door. He'd really thought  he'd be able to convince Salvatore Calabrese to sell him Mediterranean  Airlines. But the man still wouldn't talk to him. Through his skinny  assistant, he'd sent Vin a single cold message: "I'm interested in  selling to sharks, not minnows." And no amount of corporate diplomacy  could now convince him Vin was a shark. Not since he'd put his family's  needs over a business deal.

Vin felt like he was failing. At his company. At home. Working such long  hours, he barely saw his baby son an hour a day. As for his wife...

Vin shivered.

He wanted to see more of her.

Much more.

They hadn't made love since Nico's birth, and at this point, all Vin  could think about when he was around her was that he wanted to throw her  against the wall and take her.

But he couldn't.

After what he'd seen Scarlett go through in the hospital, he didn't know  when-or even if-she'd ever want him to touch her again. He didn't even  know how to broach the subject. He'd never had to struggle with this  before. So rather than constantly feel sexually on edge around her, like  a mindless beast with only the barest thread of self-control, it was  almost easier to avoid her entirely.

Looking up at the four-story elegant villa that had become a palace  beneath her magical touch, and his wife the untouchable princess living  inside it, Vin felt weary.

"Go home," he told his bodyguard. "We'll be fine tonight."

Beppe looked doubtful. "That's not protocol. Especially when there's the danger of-"

"It's Christmas Eve," Vin cut him off. He didn't want to think about  Blaise Falkner tonight, or the fact that the man had disappeared from  New York two weeks ago and couldn't be found. Another arena in which  things hadn't gone to plan. "Go home. We have the security alarm. I saw  Larson in the gatehouse. He'll call you if he needs you."

"If you're sure..."

"Go home to your girlfriend."

Beppe's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Signor Borgia. Buon Natale!"

"Merry Christmas," Vin replied dully. Alone, he pushed open the tall oak door of the villa. He went into the foyer.

Yawning, he closed the door securely behind him, turning on the security  alarm. Tossing his briefcase on a table, he hung up his long black  coat. Wondering if Scarlett had already gone to bed, he walked into the  great room.   





 

And he stopped.

An enormous Christmas tree, twenty feet tall, now stood in the great  room by the blazing fireplace, lit up with thousands of brilliant lights  like stars beneath the wood beams of the high ceiling.

Beneath the tree, he saw something even more dazzling.

"Welcome home," his wife murmured, smiling as she held out a martini on a silver tray.