Mediterranean Tycoons: Tempting & Taken: The Italian's Runaway Bride / His Inherited Bride / Pregnancy of Revenge. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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cashmere dress that she’d worn for her wedding. ‘Here, wear that—at least it has some style—and for heaven’s sake think about what I have told you. You are far too trusting for your own good.’
The sound of music floated into the grand hall as the two girls made their way back downstairs. The dancing had started. Kelly glanced across the room just as Gianfranco took Olivia into his arms and started to dance.
Carlo Bertoni appeared and slid an arm around Judy. ‘Where have you been? I missed you,’ he declared, and as Kelly watched Judy smiled up into her husband’s eyes.
‘Helping the lady of the house change.’
‘And very lovely you look.’ Carlo smiled at Kelly. ‘Gianfranco is a very lucky man.’
Kelly forced a smile. ‘Thank you, Carlo.’ But, watching Gianfranco dancing, with Olivia’s arms now wrapped around his neck, she began to wonder how lucky she was herself. Somehow seeing the two so intimately together lent credence to Judy’s outrageous suggestions. She felt sick to her stomach and was hit by a wave of such bitter jealousy she had to close her eyes for a moment.
Opening them again, she glanced around the room. It wasn’t just Olivia who was ogling her husband, she noted. Gianfranco, with his great height and superbly muscled body, moved with a rhythm, a lithe, sexy elegance, which, combined with his dark good looks, attracted the appreciative eyes of almost every female present.
Gianfranco loved her, she told herself firmly. They were married, for heaven’s sake. But a fluttering in her stomach reminded her she was pregnant and why he had married her. Then Gianfranco caught sight of her, his glorious eyes widening in delight, and she was reassured by the brilliant smile that he winged her way. She was worrying over nothing.
Kelly was wearing the dress she had married him in, and for a moment Gianfranco was stunned anew by how beautiful she looked. His wife, with her pale hair swept up on top of her head, her slender body ripening softly with his child. Yes, he had made the right decision marrying her, he congratulated himself, his chest swelling with pride. She was every inch a lady and, contrary to what he had been led to believe by married men of his acquaintance, marriage had made little difference to his life at all—except he had a warm and willing woman in his bed every night. Married life was good. His friends adored Kelly, the evening was a great success, and he wished the whole lot would leave so he could take her to bed.
The music stopped and he disengaged himself from his courtesy dance with his sister-in-law. He was stopped from claiming Kelly by Olivia’s hand on his arm. He listened with barely concealed impatience to what she had to say, but when his mother joined in his attention was caught. Old loyalties vied with new, and slowly his dark brows drew together in a frown.
Kelly saw the frown, and she watched as he worked his way through the crowd towards her. Gianfranco reached for Kelly with a strong arm and pulled her to his side. ‘I see you’ve changed,’ he said, bending his dark head towards her, and under cover of apparently kissing her neck, said softly, ‘Beautiful though you look, would it have been too much of a hardship to wear one of the gowns Mamma chose for you?’
‘Yes,’ she declared mutinously. She had already had this argument earlier, and she was not about to start trying to defend her choice again.
‘Dance with me,’ Gianfranco demanded. She stilled, and the large hand at her spine pulled her closer. ‘Smile,’ he suggested silkily, glittering dark eyes absorbing the defiance in her beautiful face. ‘Or people might suspect that we are arguing.’
‘Heaven forbid anyone would dare argue with you, Gianfranco,’ she drawled sarcastically. And was punished by being kissed in a brief, hard kiss. Her nostrils flared on the disturbingly familiar scent of him, her body instantly melting in the circle of his arms. ‘People are watching,’ she said, her face flushing scarlet.
‘So what? I am master in my own home,’ he murmured against her ear as he guided her gently around the floor. ‘You would do well to remember that. I am not used to the women in my life bending my ear about clothes,’ he declared with all the aristocratic arrogance of his illustrious ancestors. ‘It has got to stop—understand?’
Involuntarily Kelly flinched and missed a step, stung by the implied threat in his statement…
‘Olivia was right, you are rather clumsy tonight,’ he remarked.
Judy had not been lying! In that second Kelly wanted to thump him; her blue eyes flashed fire as they met his. ‘And you are a blind chauvinist pig!’ she whispered tightly.
Her sapphire eyes were magnificent when anger or passion aroused her, but he did not want to argue with her. ‘Don’t get upset, Kelly.’ His gleaming dark eyes held hers. ‘I will forgive you. It’s probably your hormones playing up.’
Kelly pulled free just as the music stopped, but before she could speak Carmela tapped Gianfranco on the arm. ‘The guests will soon be leaving.’
Half an hour later the last of the guests had left. Carmela declared the evening a great success and suggested they all have a nightcap. Kelly refused, said goodnight and made straight for the stairs.
Inside she was a seething mass of conflicting emotions. She loved Gianfranco, but he, by his own words, had admitted he had been laughing at her with Olivia. She couldn’t believe he was so insensitive to her feelings. But then, she did not know him that well, as she was fast discovering.
Once in the bedroom, she quickly undressed, and in the bathroom she washed, then brushed out her hair, before slipping on a blue satin nightgown. She grimaced slightly—it was getting a little snug—and walked back into the bedroom.
After an instant’s hesitation at seeing Gianfranco, she continued towards the bed.
‘Rather a hasty exit, Kelly,’ he opined hardly. ‘It wouldn’t have hurt you to share a nightcap with Mamma.’
‘I thought I’d leave you to it, then you could all have a good laugh at me,’ she snapped.
In the process of divesting himself of his clothes he stopped and faced her, his dinner suit discarded and his fingers lingering on the last button of his shirt.
‘What exactly do you mean by that?’ He shrugged off his shirt and stood before her in just black silk boxers. His dark eyes narrowed intently on her pale face. ‘You have been in a strange mood for the past hour.’
‘Maybe because I don’t like being told what to wear, or being ordered to change.’
Gianfranco stilled, his broad shoulders tensing. ‘Maybe you should learn some courtesy to my mother, when she has very generously tried to help you,’ he opined bluntly.
‘Maybe you should learn some courtesy to me, your wife,’ she snarled, the events of the evening finally getting on top of her. ‘Like when your sister-in-law tipped her drink all over me and apologised. Yet, according to Judy, when you appeared she told you it was my clumsiness and you all had a jolly good laugh.’
A dark stain of red ran along his high cheekbones. At least he had the grace to blush, which was something, Kelly thought bitterly. Thoroughly fed-up, she did not want to argue with him, she wanted him to hold her in his arms and reassure her of his love, and instead he was staring at her with eyes as cold as ice.
‘Everyone laughed; as the host, I smiled in agreement with my guests, the correct thing to do,’ he said with chilling politeness. ‘But you are being ridiculous, Kelly. I have known Olivia a lot longer than you and she would not lie.’
‘No? You’re inferring that I would?’ Kelly shot back at him in outrage.
‘Yes—no.’ For once her indomitable husband had to struggle for words. ‘You were probably mistaken, a woman in your condition.’
‘If you mention my condition once more, so help me I will flatten you,’ she screeched tempestuously.
His jaw clenched. ‘Contain yourself, Kelly, such temper cannot be good for you or the baby.’