On the other hand Cassie was beginning to truly realise just what kind of man it was she had married. She had known the Sandro of six years ago had come from money by his air of self-assurance, the quality of his clothes and the kind of flashy red sports car he had driven her around in then. When she’d met him again two weeks ago, she’d had to push him further up the moneyed ranking because of the sheer nature of who he had become as the controlling head of Marchese Industries.
However, this huge square stone villa with its apricot stuccoed walls blushing warmly in the dying sunlight, surrounded by the kind of gardens you usually only saw in travel magazines, pushed him even further up the rankings to a place beyond her present ability to comprehend.
‘Welcome to the Villa Marchese,’ he murmured as they settled down on the ground. ‘What do you think?’ he asked Cassie curiously.
‘It’s—big,’ was all she could find to say.
‘It’s not a castle,’ their daughter said in disappointment.
‘So I can’t please anyone today.’ Sandro sighed out whimsically.
‘I saw a huge swimming pool,’ Anthony chipped in. ‘Can we swim in it now?’
‘Except for my son—a little,’ Sandro added ruefully.
Opening the door, he climbed down then turned to lift the twins out. As though they’d been set free from a cage, they ran off towards the villa, putting Cassie’s heart into a fluttering panic because she had never let them move so far away from her before.
‘Sandro, catch them!’ she cried in alarm, moving without thinking what she was doing, so when she swung her legs out of the helicopter and went to lower herself to the ground she discovered the scary way that she was much higher up than she’d realised.
By then it was already too late, and that first impulsive move continued to carry her forward. Her heart gave a thump, that fizzing feeling you got when you knew you were going to fall washing agitated tingles down her legs, and she let out a frightened yelp.
Spinning around, Sandro ripped out a soft curse then came to her rescue, his strong arms banding around her body and gathering her up to hold her securely flattened to his long, hard length. Without even thinking about it, Cassie flung her arms around his neck and clung on for dear life.
‘I knew you would fall for me all over again once you’d seen my house,’ he said lazily.
‘It isn’t a joke!’ Firing a shaken look up at him, Cassie caught the smiling glint of his white teeth—the genuine laughter that reflected in his eyes. The dying sunlight was bronzing his fabulous features, his smooth forehead, his vibrant cheekbones, his jawline, the glowing patina of health that glossed his fleshless cheeks. Finally she collided with those sizzling gold flecks sparkling in his eyes, and that sinking feeling shot through her for a second time, only this one was down to the dizzying swoop of her own aching emotions, fighting against the hard, cold clutch of reality that he’d used her terribly six years ago for a one-night stand.
‘Put me down,’ she instructed.
And watched the laughter die. Instead of setting her feet to the ground he strengthened the muscles in his arms. She saw what was coming, and her fingertips curled tensely into his shirt collar.
‘Sandro, no,’ she jerked out.
‘Dio, Sandro, yes,’ he delivered in a deep voice roughened by his intentions, and lifted her higher at the same time as he lowered his dark head to capture her mouth.
And he took it with a fire-hot hunger. The old electric excitement dragging a helpless whimper from her in response. With a muffled groan of raw desire he drove his tongue deep into her mouth on a passionately sensual exploration that blew her defences wide apart. Her head fell back against his shoulder; her heart began to pound. It was dreadful and wonderful at the same time, because she needed this kiss so badly it was no use trying to kid herself any more.
She wanted him. She was hungry for him, confused and mad and wild—and she kissed him back with every bit of singing, pulsing, throbbing passion that she had in her, yet aching tears filled her eyes when he finally allowed their mouths to part so they could draw breath.
‘You should have told me about her,’ she sobbed out painfully.
‘I couldn’t.’ His voice sounded harsh, thick, unsteady. ‘I’d hurt you too much already by abandoning you. I could not hurt you again by telling you about her.’
‘You loved her—’
‘No,’ he denied fiercely, banding her more tightly to him. ‘We did not have that kind of relationship. She was my friend before she became my betrothed. We kind of drifted into the idea of marriage because it suited our two families but—damn,’ he husked, ‘she was nice!’