The Revenge Collection 2018. Кейт Хьюит
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the image of her naked bottom never far from his thoughts. All that, and the way she fought fire with fire...it all conspired to make his loins tighten in a way he’d almost forgotten.
Elena Ricci was the complete reverse of what he usually found attractive in a woman but there was something about her his senses responded to.
She stared at him, her eyes flashing, but then gave a slow, deliberate smile of her own. ‘The only thing I will welcome is the blow to your ego every time you remember that you could only have me by blackmail.’
‘Then I will be sure to take extra special enjoyment every time I make you come.’
Colour heightened not only her face but her neck too.
‘You’re crude and you are not a gentleman.’ Turning on her heel, she marched from the living room, saying over her shoulder, ‘I’m going to bed. Goodnight. Hope the bedbugs bite.’
‘Elena,’ he called after her.
‘What?’
‘Next time you try and rouse my anger to keep me out of your bed, know your efforts will be wasted. Any more excuses and I rip our contract up and throw your entire family to the wolves.’
She left the living room without looking back.
* * *
Elena awoke early after a night of fitful sleep, rising shortly after the sun.
With nothing but a pair of pyjamas on, she padded to the kitchen in search of coffee only to find Gabriele had beaten her to it, already showered, shaved and dressed. He’d even been out and bought bagels for them both.
‘Bagels, for breakfast?’ she mumbled, shuffling onto a chair at the kitchen table, feeling awkward with her sleep-crumpled face and mussed hair.
‘You don’t visit New York often?’
She shook her head and opened the box hers was in. ‘This is only my second time here.’
He stared at her, making her feel even more self-conscious. When he looked at her like that it felt as if he were trying to pry open her thoughts.
No one had ever looked at her like that before.
After a long bout of silence broken only by her nibbling as quietly as she could at the bacon and cream cheese bagel, which turned out to be delicious, she excused herself to take a shower.
‘We’ll make a move when you’re ready,’ he said to her retreating figure. ‘We’re going to get you a new wardrobe and have you made over. I’ve booked you in with a stylist.’
‘You’re not going to police my purchases?’
‘No. Your stylist will guide you in selecting clothes you feel comfortable in. I’m going to the office.’
‘It’s Sunday.’ Even she, a self-admitted workaholic, didn’t go to the office on a Sunday. That didn’t mean she didn’t work on the supposed day of rest, only that she didn’t expect anyone else to.
‘We’ve a busy time coming up,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘There’s some stuff I need to get done before we head off to Florence and I won’t have many opportunities after today.’
Two hours later, they entered an exclusive store on Fifth Avenue.
Having had such a rubbish night’s sleep, Elena was well aware of how drained she looked. Even her hair, thin as it was at the best of times, was lank.
When the stylist, a tall, immaculately dressed woman in her forties, strode towards her with an outstretched hand, she felt even more conspicuous.
Gabriele greeted her as if she were an old friend, kissing her on each cheek.
‘I will leave you in Liana’s capable hands, tesoro,’ he said to Elena, his tone affectionate.
Had he brought other women here?
The strange pang that twisted her stomach was smothered when he caught her off guard, wrapping his arms around her and placing a brief kiss to her lips.
The briefest of kisses. Tiny. Insubstantial. And yet enough to set her heart fluttering.
He pulled away, rubbing her arms for good measure. ‘My phone will be on if you need me, otherwise, if I don’t hear from you I’ll pick you up at four.’
Too shell-shocked by the unexpected heat of his mouth on hers and his fruity, masculine scent playing in her senses to respond with anything but a weak, ‘Okay,’ she watched him stroll out, her eyes drifting to the tight buttocks wrapped in a pair of snug-fitting black jeans, which also emphasised the length and muscularity of his thighs.
She dug the nail of her middle finger into the flesh of her thumb.
That was what happened when you didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Your body reacted in unpredictable ways when the monster you were being forced to marry kissed you.
It was only because she hadn’t been prepared for it. Next time she would be, and would bite his lip for good measure.
Liana bore her off to an elevator, asking questions about her taste in music and books and films that sounded innocuous but which Elena was certain had meaning. The stylist was trying to figure her out.
Before they’d reached the floor they were heading to, she could hold it back no longer. ‘Have you dressed many of Gabriele’s lady friends?’
‘He brought his mother here at Christmas.’ Liana used such a sympathetic tone that a ripple of unease ran through her, making Elena wonder what it was about Gabriele’s mother that elicited such a tone.
When they reached the intended floor, Liana knew exactly where she wanted to take her.
Following in her wake, she passed two women, one of whom was holding a small baby.
She turned back for a second look, her heart thundering.
She was going to have one. She was going to have a baby.
The one thing she had never allowed herself to dream of having.
But to get one she would have to have sex with Gabriele.
God help her.
And God help her that a thrill of heat pooled in her abdomen every time she imagined it.
Liana whisked her into a private dressing room and brought armfuls of clothes in a steady stream, from elegant business outfits to cocktail dresses, to everything in between.
Although reluctant to try them on, feeling that to do so would in itself be a victory for Gabriele, to her surprise Elena soon found she was enjoying herself. Even more surprisingly, the clothes Liana selected were items she would have chosen for herself if she’d ever given it more than a few seconds’ thought. Nothing too girly, which she would have rejected on the spot, yet definitely feminine.
The only time she truly wanted to put her foot down was when Liana measured her bra size and brought in sexy little items of lingerie. She could hardly say, ‘No thank you, it would be a waste as I couldn’t care less what Gabriele thinks of my underwear,’ because that hardly fitted the image of a woman newly in love. Elena did manage to dissuade the stylist from checking the fit of them for herself, which she considered to be a personal victory.
Left alone with a pile of bras, she gazed at her reflection in the three full-length mirrors. And gazed again.
She looked different. And all she’d done was try on some clothes.
Peering closer, she studied her face, certain something had changed.
Her skin appeared to glow. Her eyes seemed brighter, the green more vivid. Her lips looked fuller.
It had to be the lighting, she told herself, slipping one of the bras on. The owners must have done it to enhance their customers’ reflections.
But even her breasts looked fuller, the lacy bra