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

‘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 going to cheat on you and I don’t mind that because it proves you’re committed—’ He leaned on his horn and overtook a driver who he obviously considered to be going too slowly. ‘If you’d told me to go ahead and have an affair, I would have been worried. You feel strong emotions and I’m comfortable with strong emotions. I just need to persuade you to express them. From now on “hiding in the boathouse” is banned. And I use that term figuratively as well as literally.’

She hadn’t been back to the boathouse for years. Once, it had been her favourite hiding place, her sanctuary, but she hadn’t been back there since that night.

Santo drove into the courtyard of a beautiful palazzo and Fia glanced around her in surprise.

‘Where are we?’

‘My brother Cristiano’s town house. You’re choosing your wedding dress. Dani is here and also Cristiano’s wife, Laurel. You’ll like her. She is calmer than Dani so hopefully she’ll add some sense to the proceedings.’

‘They separated—’ she frowned, trying to remember ‘—I read something in the paper.’

‘But now they are back together and stronger than ever. They have a daughter, Elena, who is the same age as Dani’s Rosa, and an older daughter, Chiara, who they adopted a year ago.’ He switched off the engine. ‘So you see, Luca’s family is expanding by the minute.’

‘I read that they were getting a divorce.’

‘Not any more.’ He gave a gentle smile and released her seat belt. ‘As I said, angelo mia, once a Ferrara wife, always a Ferrara wife. Remember that.’

She got through the wedding ceremony by telling herself that she was marrying for love. Not love for Santo, but love for her son. And any doubts she might have had were swept away by the sight of Luca being welcomed into the big, noisy Ferrara family. He thrived on the attention, adored playing with his cousins and wouldn’t let his father out of his sight. And Fia couldn’t help but warm to Santo’s mother, who embraced her tightly as she welcomed her to the family. They never held anything back, she thought. They didn’t ration love. They weren’t afraid that too much was a bad thing.

The media, tired of the endless gloom of economic disaster, greedily devoured a happy story. Thanks to the few choice details fed to them by the Ferrara publicity machine, they’d pieced together a romantic tale that bore no resemblance to reality. According to the press, their relationship had been conducted in secret because of the long-standing feud between their families, but now it was out in the open and the headlines read ‘Love conquers all’.

But perhaps the press were most charmed by the sight of her grandfather and Cristiano Ferrara shaking hands and talking together at length, finally putting an end to hostilities.

‘I’m worried this is all too much for you, Nonno.’ The tension a constant knot in her stomach, Fia sat down on the chair next to her grandfather. ‘You should still be convalescing.’

‘Don’t fuss. Ferrara has half the hospital standing guard,’ her grandfather grumbled. ‘What can happen?’

But she could tell he was impressed by the care and attention Santo had paid to him and if her insides hadn’t been churning so alarmingly at the thought of what was coming, she would have been grateful, too. As it was, she stole a glance at the handsome man who was now her husband and felt a flicker of trepidation. It was all very well for him to say that marriage was for ever but, apart from the moment they’d exchanged vows, he hadn’t looked at her. Not once. It was as if he were trying to postpone the moment he had to confront reality. What would happen when the guests finally left and they were alone? Would there be stilted conversation? Would he suggest an early night?

Her grandfather gave a rare smile. ‘Look at Luca. Now that’s how a boy should play.’

Fia looked and saw her son shrieking with laughter as his father held him upside down by his ankles. She felt a lurch of anxiety.

‘I hope he doesn’t drop him on the terrace.’

Her grandfather gave her an impatient look. ‘You fuss him to death.’

Did she fuss him to death? She’d tried so hard to make sure Luca knew he was loved. Had she overdone that?

‘I just want him to be happy.’

‘And what about you? Are you happy?’ It was the first time her grandfather had ever asked her that question and she didn’t know how to answer.

She should have been happy that Luca now had his father in his life and that the long-running feud between their two families had finally been put to rest.

But how happy could a marriage be when the only love involved was for a child?