Penniless Virgin to Sicilian's Bride Read online

  ‘I keep forgetting to charge it.’ Her tone was all innocence but her gaze sparkled with a you-can’t-keep-tabs-on-me defiance.

  ‘Do you need money?’ He had lost count of how much he had given her over the years. He had bought her an apartment in Florence when she told him she wanted to live there but she rarely stayed there now. He hadn’t decided whether it was a good thing or bad thing to keep giving her funds. But what other choice did he have?

  ‘No. Ricci gave me some.’

  Gabriel frowned so hard he thought his face would split right down the middle like a slashed melon. ‘I thought you and Ricci weren’t in touch any more?’ His younger brother was trouble. Even bigger trouble than his other brother Lorenzo. Was there no end to this nightmare of his freaking family?

  ‘I ran into him in Palermo,’ Carli said. ‘He said to say hi.’

  ‘Carli, listen to me.’ He placed his hands on her shoulders locking her gaze with his. ‘You have to stay away from Ricci and Lorenzo and Papa. Promise me. Don’t have any contact with them. No texts. No calls. No visits back home to Sicily. Nothing.’

  Her hazel eyes shimmered. ‘Everyone needs a family, Gabriel. Even you.’

  ‘You don’t need them.’ He squeezed her shoulders and then pulled her into a tight hug. ‘I’m your family, mio piccolo. Always remember that.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  FRANKIE WOKE ON the morning of her wedding day to bright sunshine slanting through the gap in the curtains. She hoped it was a good omen. But what was positive about marrying a man for the sake of convenience? A man she was beginning to realise was complex, deep and mysterious. A man who, by just looking at her, made her flesh sing.

  She threw off the bedcovers and pulled the curtains all the way back so she could take in the view. Rich autumn colours—red, gold, rust, orange, yellow, burgundy—adorned the deciduous trees. And because it was so peaceful and still, the smooth silver surface of the lake provided a perfect reflection of the bold and glorious hues.

  Frankie sighed and turned to glance at her mother’s wedding dress hanging where she had left it last night. It seemed strange to be preparing for her wedding on her own. Strange, but not atypical for didn’t she spend most of her time feeling alone and isolated?

  Gabriel had texted her the details of the arrangements for the day. There would be a short ceremony in the garden with just the celebrant and a photographer and his partner as witness, and they would fly to the south of France the following morning for a short honeymoon. Gabriel had organised the marriage license ahead of time to comply with Italian law, which made Frankie realise he had been completely confident she would marry him right from the start. How did she get to be so predictable?

  Why had he rushed off last night? What could have been so important? He had a reputation as a hard-working businessman. Did he use work to make up for the shame he felt about his family? Shame she could sense in him, although he point-blank refused to speak about them.

  Frankie showered and washed and dried her hair, fashioning it into an up-do on her head. It was not as sophisticated as it would have been if she had been waited on by a hairdresser, but the circumstances of their marriage made it seem unnecessary to hire professional hair and makeup artists for the sake of a short impersonal ceremony.

  She applied her makeup and sprayed her favourite perfume on her wrists and neck. She didn’t have much jewellery with her, only the engagement ring and the pearl studs she wore most of the time. She had sold her heirloom jewels—they had been yet another casualty of her desperate financial circumstances.

  Frankie heard cars arriving and glanced out of the window to see who she presumed was the celebrant as well as a photographer and his female partner. Close behind was Gabriel’s sports car. She couldn’t stop herself from drinking in the sight of him as he got out of the car and greeted the others. His top-shelf gunmetal-grey suit, white shirt and blue tie marked him as a successful and sophisticated man about town. His hair was brushed back from his forehead, his face clean-shaven, and she wondered if she’d ever seen a more dashing-looking bridegroom.

  Her bridegroom.

  When it was time for her to go downstairs, Gabriel sent her a text. It seemed he was something of a traditionalist in that he hadn’t come up to see her in her dress before the ceremony.

  Frankie came out of her bedroom and walked down the grand staircase to where he was waiting below. When he first caught sight of her, he looked slightly stunned. His eyes widening, his throat rising and falling. ‘You look beautiful...’ Even his voice had a shocked quality to it and when he took her hand in his, she was sure his was shaking. Or maybe that was hers. Her heart gave a nervous flutter as his fingers curled around hers.

  ‘Thank you.’ Frankie felt suddenly shy.

  ‘I thought it would be nice to walk out to the garden together,’ Gabriel said. ‘The celebrant and photographer and his partner are waiting there now.’

  Frankie drew in a calming breath. ‘Okay. Let’s do it then.’

  ‘Are you feeling nervous?’ His gentle tone ambushed her, making her wonder if he too was feeling the same. But why would he? He wasn’t the vulnerable one.

  He was the one with all the power and control.

  She shifted her gaze to focus on the Windsor knot of his tie. ‘A little... It’s not every day I get to marry someone I have only met a handful of times.’

  He tipped up her face with his finger to lock her gaze with his. His brown eyes were warm and surprisingly earnest. ‘You have no need to feel afraid. We will get to know each other in time.’

  But would a year be long enough?

  * * *

  Gabriel led Frankie out into the sunshine of the garden where the celebrant and photographer and his partner were waiting. He had kept the press away on purpose—he would make a formal announcement once he and Frankie were officially married. He hadn’t wanted any members of his family showing up or press drones flying overhead.

  He wanted the ceremony to be in keeping with what their marriage would ultimately be—simple and brief. Unsentimental.

  But it had been difficult to keep his sentiments in check when he had first caught sight of her coming down the stairs toward him. Her mother’s dress was an exquisite lace and silk affair with a voluminous skirt and a classic veil held in place with a princess tiara. With her creamy elegantly made-up skin and her glossy dark hair in a stylish bun and her lips painted a cherry red, she looked like a fairy tale character—Sleeping Beauty come to vibrant, stunning life. He had never seen a more breathtakingly beautiful bride.

  Gabriel stood with Frankie in front of the celebrant and the ceremony began. ‘We are gathered here today...’

  Gabriel had been to plenty of weddings before and knew the drill almost verbatim. But it was so different being the groom, holding the hand of his bride and placing the ring on her finger. Hearing her softly but clearly saying the vows that tied her to him. Gabriel wasn’t a religious man by any means, but there was something sacred about the moment—looking into her grey-blue eyes and hearing her promise to love him.

  To worship him with her body.

  To allow him to honour and protect her.

  It was a bold promise on his part. Rash even. But it hadn’t sat well with him for her to lose her inheritance. He was honouring her father by marrying her, by rescuing her from certain bankruptcy and public humiliation. Apart from his concerns over his business reputation, there were no other motivations for marrying her other than doing the right thing by the man who had put his own prejudice aside and given him a chance to leave his background behind.

  ‘You may kiss the bride.’

  Gabriel lowered his mouth to Frankie’s, pausing for an infinitesimal moment before he touched his lips to hers. Any thought of a brief brush of his lips against hers was lost in the first point of contact. Her mouth was as soft as a rose petal and she tasted of cherries,
and as he drew away her lips clung to his as if they couldn’t bear to part from his. He pressed his mouth back down on hers, firmer, moulding his lips to the sweet sensual curve of hers, and a rumble of longing swept through him to burn and pulse and pound in his groin.

  She gave a soft, breathless little sound, a sound of approval and encouragement, a sound of breathless female desire, and it made the blood in his veins thicken and thrum and thunder. He slipped one of his hands to the nape of her neck, angling his head to deepen the kiss, the need so powerful, so uncontrollable it took him completely by surprise. Kissing her was like tasting an irresistible drug for the first time, an addictive, mind-altering potion that left his senses spinning, singing, shrieking.

  The whir of the photographer’s camera shutter was the only thing that jolted Gabriel out of the kiss. He’d been captivated by kisses before, but not enough to forget where he was. To forget everything but the taste and texture and temptation of Frankie’s mouth and the overwhelming longing to do much more than kiss her.

  He lifted his head away from hers, more than a little delighted she looked as stunned as he felt. Her eyes were bluer than grey, darkened with the same desire he could feel rocketing through his blood. Her breathing was a little uneven, her mouth still slightly open, and he seriously wondered if he would ever be able to look at a cherry again without thinking of the sweet fresh taste of her mouth.

  Frankie gave him a tremulous smile. ‘I wasn’t expecting that...’

  ‘Should I have asked permission first?’ Gabriel knew he sounded faintly mocking but he didn’t want her to think he was in any way undone by that kiss. Or a little undone by the fact he now was officially bound to her in marriage. A temporary marriage, but still. The M and C words—marriage and commitment—were ones he had actively avoided during his adult life. He had avoided intimate relationships that had certain expectations, responsibilities and emotional ties that couldn’t easily be severed.

  Something flickered in her gaze—a flash of disappointment? A shadow of hurt? She lowered her eyes to stare at his chin. ‘I’m sure there will be times when we both have to do things we would rather not do for the sake of appearances.’

  Gabriel took her hands and gently squeezed them. ‘We will have a short photo session after we sign the register and then we will be alone. Grin and bear it, cara, for before you know it the year will be up.’

  * * *

  After the photos were taken and the paperwork completed, Frankie picked up a glass of champagne and downed it in three gulps. She couldn’t get Gabriel’s kiss out of her mind. She could still taste him. Could still feel the firm warm pressure of his lips against hers. Could still feel the humming and thrumming of her blood—the heady rush of desire his mouth had triggered in her body. Her traitorous, wilfully disobedient body that refused to listen to the sensible and rational part of her brain.

  For a moment during the ceremony she’d thought he had been as taken aback as her by their kiss. The meeting of their mouths had been like two planets colliding. Sparks had fired in her blood, tingles had shot down her legs, heat had pooled and simmered and smouldered in her core. Had she imagined his reaction? It wasn’t as if she had a lot of experience when it came to reading a man’s response to her. She had been kissed before but no kiss had ever had that effect on her. To make her so unaware of her surroundings, unaware of the two witnesses standing close by, so unaware of anything but the feel of Gabriel’s lips exploring hers.

  Gabriel saw off the celebrant and the photographer and his partner and came back to Frankie. ‘We will leave for France from Milan first thing in the morning. I’m afraid there will be some press attention—I need it to make sure my business interests are well served. The news of our marriage will be hot news for a while but hopefully it won’t last long.’

  Frankie turned to refill her champagne glass and then looked back at him again. ‘Just like our marriage, huh? A flash-in-the-pan affair. Blink and you’ll miss it.’ She raised her glass to her mouth and took another generous sip. ‘Go us.’

  Gabriel took the glass out of her hand and placed it back on the table, a frown carving into his forehead. ‘Francesca, I understand a day such as today is likely to stir emotions in you but let me be clear again. This is temporary because that’s what I believe is fair to you in the long run. You’re young enough to marry again once we’re done.’

  Once we’re done. Such cold, clinical words. Just like the ceremony...apart from that disturbingly addictive kiss. Maybe it had been a mistake to drink that champagne so fast—it was loosening her tongue and her emotions. Making her think of things, yearnings and wishes she had no right to be thinking. It was all laid out in his contract.

  One year of marriage.

  No promises of for ever. No promises of a family.

  No love.

  Frankie gave a disingenuous smile. ‘Oh, did you think I was complaining? What’s to complain about? You’ve spent a virtual fortune getting me out of a financial mess and saved me from public humiliation by marrying me. Thank you, by the way.’ She mock-frowned and placed a finger against her chin in a musing pose. ‘Did I thank you before?’

  He released a breath in a steady stream as if he was mentally counting to ten. ‘You are tired and overwrought. It’s been a big couple of days and—’

  ‘How are we going to explain our relationship? How we met and so on? How you proposed?’ She gave a coy smile and placed her index finger at the top of his tie and sent it down in a slow journey to the middle of his concrete-hard abdomen, turning her fingertip in a lazy circle. ‘How we fell in lurve.’

  His eyes became as hard as two black bolts and he captured her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers like steel. ‘I know what you’re trying to do but it won’t work.’

  Frankie looked at him through lashes lowered to half-mast. Who knew she could do seductive siren so well? His firm hold and implacable stance was doing something strange to her. Making her bold and brazen and reckless. Unleashing a wildness in her like releasing a long-caged beast.

  Making her want.

  She wasn’t a flirter and look what she was doing—flirting. Enjoying every moment of it. Enjoying the sense of power it gave her to know he was not as immune to her as he made out. That kiss had told her how much he was attracted to her.

  ‘What am I doing, hmm?’ She moved closer to him, drawn to him like a teensy little iron filing to a powerful magnet. ‘Are you worried you might lose control of yourself, my dark angel Gabriel?’

  He drew in a harsh breath, his eyes blazing with heat. With hot male desire. ‘If you want to make our marriage a physical one all you have to do is ask.’ His voice was a deep rough burr that made her inner core contract with longing.

  Frankie placed her free hand on his chest, her lower body so close to him she could feel the surge of him against her belly. It was shockingly intimate. The most intimate she had been with a man since she was a teenager. But back then she had pulled away, unable to take it any further. Unwilling to give herself to someone who only saw her as a trophy to collect. But now she was a woman, an adult woman with a desperate need to explore a man’s body.

  Gabriel’s body.

  Her husband.

  The rush of alcohol left Frankie’s system as fast as it had hit it only moments earlier. What was she doing? Could she really contemplate giving herself to him for the loveless year of their marriage? Could she risk opening herself up to hurt by allowing him that close to her? Hadn’t his kiss already shown her how dangerous it was to let her guard down? He made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. She couldn’t allow herself to feel vulnerable. Couldn’t allow herself to want what other people took for granted.

  Love. Intimacy. Belonging.

  Those were the things were other people deserved, not her.

  Frankie pulled out of his hold and gave him a lopsided smile. ‘Maybe I’ll get back to you on that.’r />
  ‘Take your time.’ If he was disappointed in her answer nothing in his tone or his expression showed it.

  * * *

  Gabriel sat in the library later that evening sorting through emails and messages on his phone. Frankie had gone upstairs after their conversation and he hadn’t gone in search of her since. Hadn’t been game enough to in case his resolve took another sucker punch. He knew he could have talked her into sleeping with him. She had been feeling conflicted about their marriage, about the step they had taken today. Her emotions were all over the place and what sort of man would he be if he took advantage of her in such a vulnerable state?

  But it had felt damn good to kiss her. To touch her. To hold her. He wanted her with a tight restless ache deep in his body. Thank God he was a patient man. He had no interest in rushing Frankie into bed unless he was absolutely sure it was where she wanted to be. He didn’t want her to come back at him at a later date and accuse him of exploiting the situation for his own gain. He was taking the higher ground because that made him more comfortable with how things had panned out. He had saved her from financial ruin, saved her father’s reputation, saved her heritage.

  Saved himself.

  Their marriage was, after all, a business arrangement. A mutually satisfying arrangement that killed two birds with one very powerful stone.

  No, he would wait until she came to him. He knew deep in his bones she would. The same way he knew she had wanted to date him four years ago but her pride had got in the way. In a perverse way it had secretly delighted him when she’d rebuffed him. It galvanised him on a mission to prove what he was capable of, what he could do even though he had the dark stain of criminality in his background. He had doubled his wealth in the four years since she’d looked down her noble nose at him, as if he had just crawled out of a swamp with his knuckles dragging. He had built an empire bigger than anything his father had done and he at least had the satisfaction to know that his rise to the top was not over the backs of innocent victims. He had exploited no one, abused the trust of no one, destroyed no one to get where he was today.