Italian Mavericks: Bound By The Italian's Bargain: The Italian's Ruthless Seduction / Bound to the Tuscan Billionaire / Bought by Her Italian Boss. Susan Stephens
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the realisation that her mother would die at the R-rated desires running through her darling daughter’s head.
‘Good morning,’ she said brightly as she pulled out the chair at the opposite end of the table.
Maria immediately spun around from the sink.
‘At last! Someone is up who will eat breakfast!’ she exclaimed. ‘Sergio, he just want coffee. But not decent Italian coffee. He prefer that weak rubbish they drink in London. So what you want, Bella? A nice omelette, perhaps? But first a cup of espresso.’
Bella looked sheepish as she sat down. ‘Would you be offended if I had what Sergio’s having?’
Sergio laughed. ‘See, Maria? I am not the only one with a weak stomach this morning.’
‘Pah! You two. I know why you no want breakfast. Too much pizza and champagne last night.’
‘Too much something,’ Sergio muttered under his breath, then smiled at Bella, his eyes glittering with a knowing amusement.
Bella kept her cool on the outside, but her insides didn’t fare quite so well. Truly, the man was the devil in disguise. Who would have believed that the once-conservative Sergio would turn into such a Casanova?
Not that she really minded.
‘So how did you sleep?’ he asked her.
‘Very well,’ she replied without batting an eyelid. ‘And you?’
‘Like a log.’
‘Champagne always makes me drowsy,’ she said, determined to play the game as well as he did.
‘Then we’ll open another bottle tonight.’
‘I thought you were going to your neighbour’s place for dinner tonight,’ she reminded him.
‘So I am. But I shouldn’t get back too late.’
‘I might have gone to bed by then.’
He shrugged. ‘There’s always another night.’
It irked Bella that he wasn’t as keen to be with her again as she was to be with him. But then why would he be? Last night hadn’t been anything special to him. Not as it had been for her.
Maria scowled as she placed a mug of coffee down in front of Bella. ‘I do not come here just to make rubbish coffee.’ She placed her hands on her wide hips and glowered at them.
‘I know!’ she exclaimed, suddenly beaming. ‘I will pack you both a picnic basket. Sergio, you will take Bella out in the rowing boat. Go to that secret cove you found when fishing a while ago. That way, Bella does not have to wear any silly wig. She can be herself.’
Bella’s stomach flipped over at the thought of going on a romantic picnic lunch with Sergio in some secret cove. He didn’t seem quite as keen on the idea, however, if his expression was anything to go by.
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said. ‘It’s always very busy on the lake on a Sunday. Someone in a passing boat might recognise Bella.’
‘Not if I wear dark glasses and a large hat,’ she said straight away, locking eyes with his.
His scowl was more than a match for Maria’s. ‘Be it on your head, then. But I suggest you wear something different from that,’ he added, nodding at the white cheesecloth skirt and shirt she had on. ‘The top is okay. But you’ll need a swimming costume under it. It’s hot today and the water in the cove is perfect for swimming.’
Bella’s stomach tightened when she thought of the brief white bikini she’d bought at the airport. She hadn’t bought it with seduction in mind but it had seduction written all over it.
‘Fine,’ she said, doing her best to look innocent.
His dark eyes narrowed slightly.
‘Maria, how long will it take to put that picnic basket together?’ he asked.
‘Not long. Ten, fifteen minutes.’
‘I’ll go get the boat out. Bella, you go put that swimming costume on. And don’t bother with make-up. You don’t need it, anyway.’
Bella decided to take that as a compliment, despite his brusque tone. Sergio might be Casanova in bed at night but super charming in the daytime, he wasn’t.
‘Can I finish my coffee first?’ she asked.
‘If you must.’
‘I must. Then I have to go to the toilet and put my swimming costume on.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘And how long will that take?’
She shrugged. ‘Fifteen minutes. Tops.’ You learned to be quick when you worked on stage.
Sergio gave her a droll look as he stood up. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it. Women don’t know the meaning of punctuality. Just try not to keep me waiting too long.’ And he stalked off.
‘He’s a bit grumpy in the morning, isn’t he?’ Bella said as she finished her coffee.
Maria sighed. ‘Sergio. He has been sad since his papa passed away. But he will be better now that he come home to Italy to live. Even better when he finds himself a wife. Maybe someone nice like you, Bella. It is time you got married, is it not?’
Though somewhat startled by Maria’s unexpected suggestion, Bella could not help wallowing in the romantic fantasy of marrying Sergio for a few silly seconds. Till common sense kicked back in. No way would Sergio ever ask her to marry him. Frankly, she was amazed that he’d forgiven her enough to be her friend. Though of course that friendship now came with benefits, benefits that she’d enjoyed last night as much as him. Hopefully, she would enjoy some more of those benefits during their romantic picnic by the lake; just the thought of being with Sergio again made her head spin and her heart race.
‘Sergio isn’t interested in getting married just yet, Maria,’ she said, jumping up from the table and carrying the mug over to the sink. ‘And neither am I.’ Her interests lay elsewhere at the moment. ‘Now I’d better hurry.’
Seventeen minutes later she was sitting in the back of a rather ancient-looking wooden rowing boat whilst casting an envious glance at the gleaming red and white speedboat still sitting in the boat shed. The picnic basket was safely stowed under her seat, Sergio using a battered oar to push the boat away from the shore. He hadn’t changed his clothes, though he was now wearing sunglasses. Understandable, given the brightness of the day. And the water.
‘I think I should warn you,’ she said with slightly feigned nonchalance, ‘that Maria is trying to matchmake us.’
His expression showed this was not news to him, which perhaps explained his irritable mood. Maybe Maria had said something to him this morning before she’d come downstairs.
‘Maria is a romantic,’ he said with an exasperated shrug of his broad shoulders.
‘Most women are romantics at heart,’ Bella confessed. Herself included. Only a romantic would ever have imagined that one day she would find a man who would love her as deeply as she loved him; who would understand her and support her; who would be a great father as well as a fabulous husband. Such thinking was the stuff fantasies were made of. Fantasies and Hollywood movies.
Bella actually thought it sweet of Maria to imagine that she would make Sergio a good wife. Because of course she wouldn’t. Their sex life might be fine but that was about it.
Her sigh carried a degree of regret that life was infinitely more complicated for a woman once she had a successful career, especially one that was as essential to her as breathing. Bella might be suffering from burnout at the moment, but she could never give up performing. Singing for an audience made her soul soar in ways she could never describe. Without it, she would be a mere shadow of herself.
‘What did she say to you?’ Sergio asked as he began to row.
His