Italian Mavericks: Forbidden Nights With The Italian: The Forbidden Ferrara / Surrendering to the Italian's Command / The Unwanted Conti Bride. Sarah Morgan

Italian Mavericks: Forbidden Nights With The Italian: The Forbidden Ferrara / Surrendering to the Italian's Command / The Unwanted Conti Bride - Sarah Morgan


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her to spend as much time with her grandfather as she needed to in those early days. And the occasional phone call to Ben was all it took to reassure her that all was well with the restaurant and that the new chef was following Santo’s orders to run the place exactly as Fia ran it.

      She wanted to be angry that he’d taken over, but the truth was that Santo had taken a hideous, stressful situation and made it as smooth for her as he possibly could. Because of him, her grandfather was making a good recovery, her business was safe and her child was happy.

      And every time she felt wobbly about her decision, she just had to look at how he was with Luca.

      ‘My staff have interviewed and appointed three nurses with excellent qualifications who will provide round the clock care for your grandfather when he is discharged home.’ Santo negotiated the thick traffic with the ease of a native Sicilian. ‘They will work on a rota so that your grandfather will never be alone.’

      For years her only mode of transport had been her dusty old moped. Now each journey was made in supercharged, superaccelerated, air-conditioned luxury. ‘I can’t afford that level of care.’

      ‘But I can. And I am the one paying.’

      ‘I don’t want your money. I can look after him myself. I’ve been running a successful business since I was eighteen.’

      ‘Even if you were not about to marry me, that would be an unsustainable proposition. You cannot raise a child, run a business and be a full-time carer.’

      ‘Plenty of people do just that. You may have missed the press release because it was sent to “modern man” and you don’t fall into that category, but it is possible to have it all.’

      ‘In my experience “having it all” usually includes a nervous breakdown,’ Santo drawled, leaning on his horn as the driver in front stopped to let out a passenger and blocked the road. ‘I want a wife, not a basket case so we’ll buy in the appropriate help, which should leave you with the energy for the important parts.’

      ‘I presume you consider the “important parts” to take place in your bedroom.’

      ‘Funnily enough, I didn’t mean that. I was talking about the energy required to care for a young child but yes, sex is going to keep you busy too. I’m a demanding guy, angelo mia. I have needs.’ The engine growled as he accelerated past the car, shifting gears smoothly. ‘And if you’re going to satisfy those needs, you’re going to need your sleep.’

      She had a feeling he was winding her up but she didn’t know him well enough to be sure.

      He was ferociously bright, that she was sure about, but he also made no apology for being a red-blooded male.

      All he’d used were words and yet the desire came in a rush, the force of it shocking her because she’d never felt this way with any other man and she didn’t want to feel it about this one. Beneath all the worry and the questions, she was woman enough to wonder whether everything she remembered from that night was real or whether she’d imagined it all.

      Yes, he’d been demanding, but she’d been demanding, too. In fact she couldn’t even remember who had made the first move in the thick sweltering darkness of that hot summer night. He’d slaked his appetite and she’d slaked hers. He’d taken and she’d taken right back.

      Because she didn’t want to think about sex, she went back to something he’d said earlier. ‘There is one thing you’ve forgotten in all this. You’ve forgotten to make me sign a prenuptial agreement.’

      He laughed. ‘We’re not going to need one of those.’

      ‘Don’t be so sure. You’re a very rich guy. Aren’t you afraid I’m going to take you for every penny you have?’

      ‘A prenuptial agreement is only necessary in the event of a divorce. I’m very traditional. I believe that marriage is for ever. Once a Ferrara wife, always a Ferrara wife. We will not be getting a divorce.’

      ‘Maybe you’ll want one.’ She didn’t understand her need to goad him but she couldn’t help herself. ‘Maybe you won’t find being married to me particularly entertaining.’

      ‘As long as you focus on one particular type of entertainment, we’ll be fine.’

      She decided he was definitely winding her up and threw him a look. ‘If you’re so damn horny how can you be sure marriage is going to suit you? Being trapped with one woman might drive you mad.’

      ‘Been reading my press coverage?’ He threw her an amused glance and a sexy smile that travelled right through her body. ‘I never said I wasn’t going to keep you busy but you can relax. You have no reason to be jealous. I intend to focus all my attention on you. All of it, tesoro.’ His husky voice teased her nerve-endings. Or maybe it was the words again. The way he managed to inject each phrase with lethal promise. Under that veneer of smooth control she sensed darker emotions that simmered beneath the surface he presented to the world. From the rocky base of her own family, she’d watched him grow from boy to man. She understood the volatility that was so much a part of his nature, but she’d also seen the drive. Unobserved, she’d watched as he’d learned to windsurf and to sail. She’d admired the sheer determination that never allowed him to give up on anything until it was mastered. And then there had been the women. Golden-haired girls who flocked to the beach in the hope of attracting the attention of one of the Ferrara brothers.

      It was no wonder he was sure of himself, she thought numbly. No one had ever said no to him. No one had ever challenged his supremacy. And suddenly she couldn’t help herself.

      ‘Maybe you won’t be enough for me,’ she said calmly, deciding to play him at his own game. ‘I have needs too. Needs every bit as powerful as yours. Maybe you won’t be able to satisfy me.’

      Dark eyebrows rose, but the faint gleam in his eyes suggested he appreciated the humour. ‘You think not?’

      ‘No. I don’t see why men always think they have the monopoly on sexual needs. I’m just saying that perhaps I’ll be the one looking elsewhere.’

      He stopped the car so suddenly that the seat belt locked.

      Oblivious to the cacophony of horns sounding behind them, he turned to face her and her heart raced away in a crazy rhythm under that glittering gaze because the humour was gone.

      ‘I didn’t mean it,’ she muttered. She realised she’d been stupid to goad him in that way. ‘You were winding me up and I was doing the same. For goodness’ sake, Santo—my father was unfaithful to my mother for the whole of their marriage, do you really think I’d do that?’

      He inhaled slowly. ‘Not a good joke.’

      ‘No, but—’ she hesitated ‘—since this conversation has turned serious—I’m well aware that you’re marrying me just because of Luca so we’re not exactly glued together by love, are we? I’m not a meek, obedient girl who is going to sit in the corner while you go off with other women. What happens if you do fall in love?’

      He stared at her for a long moment and then turned his attention back to the road and eased back into the horrendous traffic. ‘I’d be bored silly in five minutes with meek and obedient. I don’t want you to sit in a corner. As my wife you will inevitably have a high profile. And whatever happened in the past, I respect you as the mother of my child and that is enough to glue us together. And as for your father—’ his voice hardened ‘—his behaviour was dishonourable and beneath contempt. I would never behave in such a way towards the mother of my children. You have no need to worry. And no need to be jealous.’

      Humiliated that she’d revealed so much, she turned her head and looked out of the window but she was oblivious to everything except her own emotions. She realised that she didn’t even know where they were. She’d been so wrapped up in her emotions she hadn’t been watching the route. ‘I’m not jealous.’

      ‘Yes, you are. You’re worried I’m


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