The Italian's Christmas Child(21)

Vito’s butler, Silvestro, moved forward to pour the wine with a flourish and light the candles on the circular table. Holly tasted the wine with an appreciative sip.

‘It’s an award-winning Brunello my grandfather laid down years ago. This is a special occasion,’ Vito pointed out as he dropped lithely down into his seat and shook out his napkin.

‘I cut my teeth on wines that tasted like vinegar.’ Holly sighed. ‘I’m not much of a drinker.’

‘Why would you be if it tasted that bad?’ Vito asked with amusement.

‘Why didn’t you warn me that you lived in a vast house your family have owned for centuries?’ Holly asked quietly.

‘It didn’t occur to me,’ Vito admitted with a frown.

‘This place was a shock...as was the new wardrobe.’

‘You were supposed to shop for clothes at the same time as you chose your wedding dress but the stylist said you weren’t interested. So I took care of it for you.’

‘Thank you, I suppose...’

As Silvestro left the room, having drawn the trolley close to enable them to serve themselves, Holly embarked on the tiny delicate parcels on her plate. They were exquisitely displayed, and the oriental flavours tasted phenomenal. The courses that followed were even better. Holly had never eaten such fabulous food before.

‘Who does the cooking here?’ she asked.

‘I have a very well-paid chef on staff. When I’m staying at one of my other properties he travels ahead of me.’

Bemused by the concept of a mobile personal chef, Holly blinked. ‘You have other properties?’

‘Here I have the apartment in Florence and a villa on the shores of Lugano in Switzerland. Those were inherited. But I also own property in the countries I visit most frequently,’ Vito admitted.

Holly was frowning. ‘What’s wrong with hotels?’

‘I don’t like them. I like quiet and privacy, particularly when I’m working,’ Vito advanced smoothly. ‘It’s my sole extravagance.’

‘When I called you a spoilt-rotten rich boy I wasn’t far off the mark,’ Holly dared.

‘Had you ever met my grandfather you would never have awarded me that label. He was a rigid disciplinarian with a punitive approach. He thought my mother was too soft with me.’ A rueful smile brought a gentler than usual curve to Vito’s wide sensual lips. ‘He was probably right.’

‘Your grandfather sounds very judgemental. I don’t think I would’ve liked him very much.’

‘He was a dinosaur but a well-intentioned one. Since he passed away two years ago, however, I have instigated many changes.’

Holly dealt him a sidewise glance and whispered conspiratorially, ‘Our bedroom is a complete horror.’

A flashing grin illuminated Vito’s lean, dark features. ‘Really?’

‘Very dark and depressing.’

‘I think I’ve only been in that room once in my life.’

Her brow furrowed. ‘You mean it wasn’t yours?’

‘No, it’s simply the main bedroom in the house and Silvestro has been trying to move me in there ever since my grandfather departed,’ Vito confided with amusement. ‘But I always resist change and I need the allure of a wife there to entice me.’

Holly compressed her lips as she sipped her wine. ‘I have no allure,’ she told him, wrinkling her snub nose in embarrassment.

Vito laughed, lounging back in his chair to study her with gleaming dark golden eyes. ‘Being unaware of it doesn’t mean you don’t have it. In fact that very lack of awareness is incredibly appealing.’

‘I should check on Angelo.’

‘No, not tonight, bella mia,’ Angelo intoned as he sprang upright to reach for her hands and raise her slowly from her seat. ‘Tonight is ours. Angelo has two nannies and an entire household devoted to his needs. After all, he is the first child in the Zaffari family for a generation, and as such more precious than diamonds to our staff.’

Her throat tightened as he looked down at her with glittering golden eyes fringed by ridiculously long lashes. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe or move. ‘Er...what are we standing here for?’

‘I want to see this horror of a bedroom,’ Vito said thickly and then he lowered his head and sealed his mouth to hers with hungry, driving urgency.

Like a flamethrower on a bale of hay his passion ignited hers with instantaneous effect. Her arms closed round him, her small hands roving up over his strong, muscular back to cling to his shoulders. His tongue slid moistly between her lips and an erotic thrill engulfed her in dizzy anticipation. Her nipples prickled into tingling tightness while damp heat surged between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, struggling to get a grip on herself but still wanting him so much it almost hurt...





CHAPTER EIGHT

HAULING HOLLY UP into his arms, Vito carried her into the bedroom and settled her on the foot of the bed to remove her shoes.

‘I didn’t appreciate how dark it was in here,’ Vito admitted as he switched on the bedside lamps. ‘Or how hideous. My grandfather liked grand and theatrical.’ He sighed.

Holly scrambled back against the headboard and studied him with starry eyes. He stood half in shadow, half in light, and the hard, sculpted planes and hollows of his lean, strong face were beautiful. She marvelled at the fate that had brought two such different people together and rejoiced in it too. Liking, respect, attraction, she listed with resolution inside her head, buttoning down the stronger feelings battling to emerge, denying them.

‘Did your parents occupy separate bedrooms?’ she asked curiously.

‘It was always the norm in this household. I didn’t want it for us.’ Vito came down on the bed beside her. ‘If you only knew how much I’ve longed for this moment. I wanted you with me in London before the wedding.’

‘But it couldn’t be done. I had responsibilities I couldn’t turn my back on.’ Holly sighed.

‘I could’ve made arrangements to free you of those duties.’

‘Not when they’re dependent on friendship, loyalty, and consideration for other people,’ Holly disagreed gently, lifting a hand to follow the course of his jutting lower lip and note the stubborn angle of his strong jawline. ‘You can’t rearrange the world only to suit you.’

‘Sì...yes, I can,’ Vito declared without shame.

‘But that’s so selfish—’

‘I will not apologise for being selfish when it comes to your needs and Angelo’s.’ Vito marvelled at her inability to appreciate that he would always place their needs over the needs of others. What was wrong with that? It was true that it took a certain amount of ruthlessness and arrogance, but he had fought hard in life for every single achievement and saw nothing wrong with an approach that maximised the good things for his family and minimised the bad. The way he saw it, if you made enough effort happiness could be balanced as smoothly as a profit-and-loss column.

With his strong white teeth he nipped playfully at the reproving fingertip rapping his chin.

Holly startled and then giggled and sighed. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

‘Anything you want... I’m up for anything.’ Vito savoured her, his dark golden eyes holding hers with explicit need for a heartbeat. He pushed her back against the pillows and then his mouth claimed hers with hungry, delicious force.

Heat unfurled in her pelvis. Her heart raced and the tension went out of her only to be replaced by a new kind of tension that shimmied through her bloodstream like an aphrodisiac and made her heart race. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps between kisses, each leading into the next until he rolled back and, having established that there was no helpful zip, he gathered the hem of her dress in his hands and tugged it up over her body and over her head to pitch it aside.

‘That’s better,’ he growled, pausing to admire the picture she made in her pretty bridal lace lingerie.

‘Except you’re still wearing far too many clothes,’ Holly objected, embarking on his shirt buttons.

Vito yanked off his shirt without ceremony, kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, only to halt there, his long, lean frame trembling while Holly’s hands roamed over the hills and valleys of his hard, muscular abdomen. Her reverent fingers took a detour to follow the furrow of dark hair vanishing below the waistband of his jeans.

‘I missed you,’ she said truthfully. ‘I missed this...’

Unfreezing, lean dark features rigid with control, he unsnapped his jeans and vaulted off the bed to take them off. ‘It was the best night of my life, bellezza mia.’

And yet he still hadn’t made any mention of seeing her again that night or the following morning. That still stung and Holly said nothing. Had he really not seen her note? Could she believe that?

‘That note I left at the cottage for you—’ she began breathlessly.

‘I didn’t see it.’

‘Would you have phoned if you’d had my number?’ she prompted in a reckless rush.

‘I don’t know,’ Vito responded quietly. ‘Certainly I would’ve been tempted, but on another level I distrust anything that tempts me.’

His honesty cut through her. Even if he had found the note, he wouldn’t have phoned her, she decided painfully. He would have written off their night of passion as a once-in-a-lifetime experience and left it behind. That hurt, but there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted to know who else had since shared his bed but it wasn’t a question to be asked on their wedding night even though her heart cried out for reassurance. It would be an unfair question when he had not owed her loyalty. Of course there had been other women in the months they had been apart. That was yet another pain she had to bear.