Page 21 of The Italian's Marriage Bargain

The safe cocoon was gone, and her first glimpse at the sun—or, more pointedly, the camera lens of a photographer at the airport—had truly terrified her. She was in Luca’s world now. Very soon it would beherfilling the social pages of the newspapers, and no doubt her unlikely status would cause more than a few caustic comments from the reporters.

Luca’s world was one in which she simply didn’t belong.

‘Could I have acaffè latteplease?’

‘Right away.’ The stewardess’s smile didn’t move an inch. She didn’t point out that dinner would be served soon, or that there was a whole bar on offer, but the warmth reserved for Luca was noticeably absent, the feminine smile gone now. Felicity realised there and then that the curious stares directed their way all morning, the inevitable mordant words of the journalists, hadn’t really been aimed at her. Her adulation for Luca wasn’t exclusive; his irrefutable grace and charm didn’t only work their magic on her.

It could be Audrey Hepburn sitting next to Luca, and still she wouldn’t be deemed good enough!

Retrieving her own blanket, Felicity leant back in her vast seat, the glint of her diamond offering little reassurance now.

‘Felice, you didn’t answer me.’ Luca’s voice was more insistent now. ‘I said I’d never deliberately hurt you.’

‘Not deliberately, perhaps…’

Her coffee appeared like magic, with a couple of chocolates and some tiny almondbiscotti—and, of course, a good splash of whisky for her favourite client’s glass and another fluff of his pillow.

Felicity choked back the nauseating waft of perfume that lingered in the stewardess’s wake. Staring out of the window, watching everything familiar disappear before her eyes, she felt the biggest wave of homesickness threaten to choke her, and she wasn’t sure if she even voiced the words that came next. ‘I’ve a feeling you just can’t help yourself…’

CHAPTER FIVE

WALKINGinto the Santanno family home was, Felicity decided, rather like pressing the wrong button on the remote control and plunging, utterly unprepared, into some very exotic, extremely loud foreign movie.

Without the aid of subtitles, though!

From every angle raven or silver-haired beauties descended upon her, kissing the air around her cheeks then holding her at arm’s length, running their eyes, even their hands, over her, as if she were some fabulous dress in a shop and, Felicity gathered, asking their friend, sister, cousin or mother what they thought! Thrusting plates piled with food at her, they filled her glass with a deep rich red wine which was the last thing Felicity fancied right now, but her attempts to put her hand over her glass were countered by them prising her hand away.‘Cincin,’a very glamorous grandmother insisted, when Felicity attempted to stop them but she shook her head.

‘Could I have some water, please? Water?’ she repeated, in what she hoped was a friendly voice. But her patience turned to exasperation as she was met with another nonplussed look.

‘She doesn’t have a clue what you’re going on about.’

That deep, low voice relaxed her in an instant. A glass of iced water was being pressed into her hands and Felicity took a grateful sip. ‘All I wanted was a glass of water.’

‘And all they want is a piece of you. I think you’ve proved rather a hit, Felice. They’re going to monopolise you all night, I’m afraid.’

‘That’s fine.’ Felicity smiled, and the most amazing part of it all was that she didn’t mind a bit. They were loud, colourful, overbearing—but, Felicity realised almost instantaneously, just gorgeous.

‘The only trouble is, if they don’t even understand “water” how on earth are we supposed to communicate?’

‘It has its advantages. We can talk about anything!’ Luca winked. ‘Just keep on smiling and they’ll keep right on smiling back.’

‘What’s happening?’ The crowd was gathering again, and a knife or spoon was clinking on the edge of every glass in the room—everyone seemed to be joining in! Her glittering eyes turned questioningly to Luca, who had never been more than an arm’s length away, surveying his family with a slightly bemused smile on his face.

‘It’s an Italian tradition.’

‘What is?’

‘Every time someone chinks their glass we’re expected to kiss. It will go on all night.’

‘All night?’

His arms were around her, his face bearing down, and Felicity looked up shyly, expecting a brief kiss, a polite retort to the demands of the room. But as Luca’s lips met hers he pulled her in so tight her breath came out in a quick, surprised gasp, instantly smothered by the weight of his lips.

As the appreciative cheers of the room faded into the distance the rough scratch of his chin surely cut her face to shreds. He moulded her body into his and claimed her in the most blatant, possessive, public display of affection.

‘All night,’ he said, pulling away slightly, his voice rough, his eyes dilated with lust. The scent of him was hot and sexy, his touch almost more than she could bear and still stay within the bounds of decency.

‘Don’t I deserve an introduction? After all, I did choose the ring!’ A heaving, throbbing purr broke the moment, and with the sudden tension in Luca Felicity didn’t even have to guess who the voice belonged to.

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