Modern Romance April 2015 Books 1-8. Annie West

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ I didn’t give him details,’ Cesare stressed when she looked at him in dismay. ‘I just admitted that I’d said some very stupid things and he had only one word of advice...’

      Lizzie viewed him expectantly.

      Cesare bit the bullet and confided, ‘Grovel.’

      ‘Seriously?’ Lizzie giggled, tickled pink.

      ‘I’m only going to do it once because I’m never ever likely to screw up as badly with you again, amata mia,’ Cesare delivered, springing back upright without any loss of presence to open the door before striding back to scoop his wife up out of her chair. ‘I’ve learned a lot from this experience.’

      ‘Have you?’ Lizzie asked curiously, resting back against his broad chest, sublimely happy just to be in his arms again, breathing in the delicious scent of him and free to think about all the wicked bedroom skills he was undoubtedly about to unleash on her.

      ‘For a whole month I took you for granted. I’ll never make that mistake again. I love you. My family loves you.’

      ‘Even my father said that you were a sensible man,’ Lizzie inputted with amusement.

      ‘Very sensible. You’re a wonderful woman, cara mia.’ Cesare lowered her the whole formidable length of his lean, hard body to the landing floor and kissed her with hungry, driving passion.

      Lizzie was more than ready to drown now in his potent fervour to reconnect with her. Excitement laced her happiness with a heady sense of joy and quiet security. She simply knew that she had a glorious life ahead of her with her husband and her child.

      On the ground floor, Athene was in a self-congratulating mood.

      ‘I do hope I’ve sorted them out. Cesare’s stubborn but his wife is soft. As if I would simply fall asleep in the middle of a conversation!’ Athene chuckled as she took over Primo’s kitchen to make her grandson’s favourite cake. ‘I think we’ll have a rather late dinner tonight, Primo...’

      * * *

      Three years later, Lizzie relaxed on the front veranda of the house on Lionos while she awaited Cesare’s return from a business trip. Her children were with her. Max was two, a toddler with the unusual combination of his mother’s pale hair and his father’s dark eyes. He was industriously racing toy cars on the boards beneath her feet and making very noisy vroom-vroom sounds. In a travel cot in the shade a dark-haired six-month-old baby girl slumbered, sucking her thumb, while Archie dozed on the front doormat.

      Gianna had not been planned, Lizzie reflected, her eyes tender as she bent down to try and extract her daughter’s thumb from her rosebud mouth. She managed it but even in sleep within minutes the thumb crept back. She gave up when she heard the distant beat of the helicopter’s approach, sliding upright to get a better view over the bay.

      Max abandoned his cars and joined her. ‘Papa...Papa!’ he exclaimed, well aware of what that sound presaged in his secure little world.

      Lizzie stroked her son’s silky head and smiled dreamily. She always enjoyed the sunshine and the peace on Lionos but it would soon be disrupted by Cesare’s forceful, exciting presence and she couldn’t wait; she really couldn’t wait. Three years had not dimmed the chemistry between them.

      Athene spent spring to summer on the island, preferring her Rome apartment and its greater convenience in the winter. Lizzie had grown to love her husband’s grandmother as much as she loved the rest of his family. He had been so blessed by all that love and warmth and to give him his due becoming a parent had made Cesare more sensitive towards his own relatives. He was much more relaxed with his large and convivial family than he had once been and his father and his sisters were frequent visitors to their homes in London, Tuscany and Lionos. Lizzie often teased her husband that she had stayed married to him because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing his family.

      Sadly, since her marriage she had seen much less of her own father and sister. Brian Whitaker came on occasional visits but he didn’t like flying or foreign food or even people talking their own language in his vicinity. Lizzie had purchased a compact home for the older man in the village where he had grown up and he seemed as happy there as he would be anywhere. She had taken him to see a consultant for his Parkinson’s disease and he was on a new drug regimen and showing considerable improvement.

      Disconcertingly, although Chrissie regularly hitched a flight home with Cesare when he was in London on business, she had become fiercely independent and now had secrets she was reluctant to share. Lizzie had watched anxiously from the sidelines of her sister’s life as things went badly wrong for the sibling she adored and troubled times rolled in. Cesare had advised her to let Chrissie stand on her own feet and not to interfere when Lizzie would more happily have rushed in and tried to wave a magic wand over Chrissie’s difficulties to make them vanish. She had had to accept that Chrissie was an adult with the right to make her own decisions...and her own mistakes. That said, however, she was still very close to her sister and very protective of her.

      The helicopter finally appeared in the bright blue cloudless sky and descended out of sight behind the trees. Max was jumping up and down by that stage and clapping his hands. In a flash he was gone and running down the slope to greet his father with Archie chasing at his heels, shaggy ears flying, tongue hanging out.

      ‘Go ahead,’ a voice said softly from behind Lizzie. ‘I’ll sit with Gianna.’

      Lizzie flashed a grateful smile at Athene and raced down the slope after her son like a teenager. Cesare took one look at his wife, pale hair flying, cheeks flushed below brilliant green eyes full of warmth and welcome, and set Max down again to open his arms.

      ‘I really missed you!’ Lizzie complained into his shoulder. ‘You’re far too missable.’

      ‘I’ll work on it,’ Cesare promised, smoothing her hair back from her brow, wondering whether or not he should admit that he had worked night and day to get back to her within a week. He missed his family more every time he left them behind and planned complex travel schedules that minimised his absences.

      ‘I shouldn’t be whingeing,’ Lizzie muttered guiltily, drinking in the familiar musky scent of his skin, her body quickening with the piercingly sweet pleasure-pain of desire that made her slim body quiver against his long, lean length.

      ‘It’s not whingeing. You missed me...I missed you, amata mia,’ Cesare said huskily. ‘We are so lucky to have found each other.’

      They walked slowly back up the slope, Max swiftly overtaking them, Archie lagging behind. Cesare stilled to turn Lizzie round and curve loving hands to her cheeks to gaze down at the face he never tired of studying. ‘I’m crazy about you, Signora Sabatino.’

      ‘And me...about you.’ Beaming in the sunshine, Lizzie linked her arms round his neck and tilted her head back invitingly.

      She slid into that kiss like melting ice cream, honeyed languor assailing her in the safe circle of his arms. Cesare was home and a rainbow burst of happiness made her feel positively buoyant.

      * * * * *

      Read on for an extract from THE GREEK’S HEIR by Sharon Kendrick.

      CHAPTER ONE

      HE WANTED HER. He wanted her so badly he could almost taste it.

      Alek СКАЧАТЬ