Convenient Brides: The Italian's Convenient Wife / His Inconvenient Wife / His Convenient Proposal

Overhearing, the twins chimed in. “Us, too, Zio Paolo?”

“Not this time,” he said. “What I have to say to Caroline is private for now, but I promise to share the secret with you soon. In any case, you have to spend the afternoon catching up on your studies, otherwise when you go back to class, you’ll find yourselves behind your school friends.”

The minute they were out of earshot of the villa, Caroline asked, “Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” he said, curbing a grin at the anxiety printed all over her face. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, the other day—about my parents figuring out what we’re up to—and you’re right. I don’t seem able to stay out of your bed, and sooner or later, I’m going to get caught. Quite apart from the indignity of such an occurrence, I resent having to sneak around like a teenager.”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

He clasped her hand and helped her over the low wall separating the gardens from the beach. “Announce our engagement and make it official.”

Her fingers tightened around his. “Do you think the children are ready to hear it?”

“I think there’s only one way to find out.”

She chewed the corner of her mouth uneasily. “What about your parents?”

“I don’t consider their reaction to be particularly relevant, cara. We did not reach this decision lightly, and hardly need their blessing.”

“It would be nice to have it, though,” she said wistfully. “It’s been a long time since I really felt part of a family.”

“You’ll be a crucial part of the one we make together, Caroline. The children and I will be your family. And you must know my mother will welcome you as a daughter.”

“It’s not your mother I’m worried about.”

This time he did laugh at the expression on her face, which reminded him of a child being forced to swallow bad-tasting medicine. “I’ll deal with my father. He won’t give you any trouble.”

She kicked at the sand, sending it spraying up around her ankles. She had very nice ankles. Very nice everything. “When are you thinking of telling them?”

“Tonight, before dinner. I’ve instructed Jolanda to prepare something special. We’ll toast to the future with champagne, although the children will have to make do with sparkling fruit juice.”

“And you’re absolutely sure you want to go through with the marriage?”

“Absolutely.” Surprised at the note of apprehension in her voice, he slowed to a stop. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Paolo,” she said. “After the way things have been between me and the children this last while, I think I have a fighting chance of making it work with them.”

“And with me?”

She lifted her shoulders in a faint shrug. “I want to make you happy.”

“You already do, cara mia.”

“I do?”

“Why else do you think I can’t keep out of your bed?”

Her blue eyes all at once alight with impish laughter, she said pertly, “Because you’re afraid of the dark?” and danced away from him when he tried to grab hold of her.

Prompted by a burst of desire as fierce as it was unexpected, he chased her behind a jutting pillar of sandstone and caught her to him, reveling in the feel of her body, pressed warm and soft against his; in the scent of her hair, her skin.

The idea of claiming her as his wife now seemed to him as natural as breathing. Without knowing exactly when or how it had happened, she’d wormed her way so thoroughly into his heart that he couldn’t imagine life without her.

Could it be that he, whom a previous mistress had tearfully dismissed as “unable to commit to anyone who wasn’t family” had finally met his match? It seemed so to him, because if what he felt for Caroline didn’t amount to love, then how else to describe the light that filled his spirit at the mention of her name, or whenever she walked into the room?

Unsure that she was ready to hear the words he longed to speak, he adopted a teasing tone and said, “Running away isn’t acceptable, Caroline. Now that you’ve agreed to make our engagement public, you officially belong to me.”

“Oh?” She lowered her lashes, flirting shamelessly with him. “Am I in trouble, then?”

“Most definitely. I shall have to devise some kind of punishment, to keep you in line.”

“Will you accept this as an apology, instead?”

Without warning, she rose up on her toes and kissed his jaw, then ran her tongue down the open neck of his shirt to the base of his throat. The response which jerked through him, sending the blood rushing to his loins, was so powerful and instantaneous that he almost came.

Shaken that his control could be so suddenly and severely tested, he glanced back along the beach. Assured they were well out of sight of the villa, he spun around and bracing himself against the pillar of sandstone at his back, pinned her to him.

She wore a pleated skirt with a hem that just covered her knees. It took but a moment for him to lift it, and inch his finger inside the elasticized leg of her panties.

She was hot and swollen and wet. Already whimpering with need, and reaching for him.

Another moment and she had the fly of his blue jeans unsnapped. He sprang into her searching hand, fully erect and pulsing on the brink of explosion.

Heart thundering, fingers fumbling, he ground out, “Your underwear’s in the way.”

“Rip it, then,” she panted, “but for God’s sake, hurry up!”

Sliding his hands beneath her sweet, slender buttocks, he lifted her until her legs were twined around his waist. “This is craziness, tesoro! I don’t have a condom with me.”

“I don’t care!”

Nor did she! Reaching down with her free hand, she tore at her cotton panties until she’d uncovered herself, and could guide him home. Her flesh welcomed him, hot and tight as a silk glove. He drove into her, filling her completely.

“Ahh!” Her head fell back, and she closed her eyes, the first ripples of orgasm already taking hold. “Faster, Paolo…harder…deeper…!”

They could make a baby, and his conscience cared that he was taking such a risk. But his body belonged to her, and he could no more reclaim it than he could count the grains of sand beneath his feet. She possessed him without mercy, and when he came in a hot, shuddering burst, she clamped her legs more tightly around him and milked him of every last drop of seed.

Spent, he buckled at the knees, and taking her with him, sprawled on the beach in a tangle of limbs. Sand trickled over them, cool, impersonal, nonjudgmental. But he could not so easily exonerate himself.

Stroking the hair back from her face, he said, “You realize I could have impregnated you? That we could already have placed our marriage in jeopardy?”

“Because of a baby?” Her eyes stared back at him unfocused, still glazed with the residue of passion. “How could an innocent baby possibly do that?”

“By placing an impossible strain on all of us. Already, we are stand-in parents to two children in need of security. They should not have to compete with a third who is our own blood child.”

Her gaze flickered, slid away from his.“ They wouldn’t have to, if we made them feel just as loved,” she said, feverishly attempting to restore order to her clothing—a hopeless task where her underwear was concerned, but she seemed determined to try to repair it. Seemed determined to do anything, however hopeless, rather than acknowledge his very real concerns.

Catching her hands, he forced them to be still. “Look at me, Caroline, and stop trying to fix something as insignificant as a pair of cotton underpants, when we have bigger problems facing us. You say we’d love our niece and nephew as much as a child of our own, but how can you guarantee that would be the case? Think of it, cara! A baby you carried in your womb for nine months which, once it was born, would demand all your attention. How could you possibly divide yourself fairly among three, when your heart truly belonged to only one?”