Madame Renaud pulled the leatherbound book off Lilley’s head. “Bonsoir, Principessa,” she said, “et merci.” Madame followed her tutor out of the door.
Principessa. Another word that still seemed exotic and foreign—nothing to do with her at all.
The instant her instructors were gone, Lilley raced upstairs towards the master bedroom as fast as her tight beige pencil skirt would allow her. She rushed down the hall, past priceless works of modern art that to her looked like a preschooler’s squiggles, past expensive white furniture that was mostly just hard and uncomfortable in her opinion.
But there was one thing about this villa that she loved: their bedroom. Her high heels clicked loudly as she hurried down the hall. Passing a window, her eyes fell on the view of the turquoise Mediterranean and white sand beach. All right—two things she loved about this house.
A week ago she would have had difficulty placing the Italian island of Sardinia on a map, but now she was in love, because the Costa Smeralda, the island’s green coast, was the most joyful and beautiful place she’d ever seen. The open windows lured in a warm, sweet wind to blow against her hair, and the bright golden sun warmed her body and heart. As if those needed any warming.
Running her hand along the curving handrail of the villa’s white staircase, she snorted as she remembered Alessandro’s description of this vacation home. Some cottage! It had eight bedrooms and a full staff, though they always disappeared at five o’clock each night, as Alessandro had ordered, so the two of them could be alone.
Lilley smiled to herself. She enjoyed her lessons during the day, but at night … She shivered. At night, she and her husband set the world on fire.
At the end of the hallway, Lilley pushed open their bedroom door, half expecting to find Alessandro on the bed, wearing only a strategically placed jewelry box. Yesterday, he’d worn only a large black velvet box which held a priceless diamond and emerald necklace. He seemed to enjoy giving her such expensive trinkets, so Lilley always tried to accept them graciously, even though the impersonal, sterile new jewelry was the last thing she cared about.
Spending time in bed with him, on the other hand … well. She’d take all of that she could get.
But today, their bedroom was empty. So was the study where Alessandro had had business meetings all day with high-level board members from his headquarters in Rome. Peeking through the window, she saw him pacing by the pool, talking on the phone. Lilley’s eyes devoured his strong physique in a snug white T-shirt, old jeans and bare feet as he paced from the white cabana to the poolhouse. Behind him, palm trees waved against the sparkling blue sea.
The pool! Perfect! She’d get him splashing in there yet!
Squelching a mischievous laugh, Lilley raced back to their bedroom and changed into a tiny bikini, one of the six he’d bought for her in Porto Cervo. Tying the strings at her hips and back, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Funny how she’d once felt so embarrassed about her plump body. She’d worn baggy clothes that didn’t fit, trying to hide her shape. But Alessandro loved her body so much, what could possibly be wrong with it? How could she not love her overlarge breasts, her curvy belly, her wide hips, with their child growing inside her?
For the first time in her life, she felt comfortable in her own skin. Even the morning sickness had all but disappeared since she’d become Alessandro’s wife. A coincidence? Or were her body and unborn baby in agreement with her, all of them deliriously happy about their new lives?
Lilley looked at the brilliant ten-carat canary diamond ring on her finger. He’d bought it for her at the Caetani boutique in Las Vegas, as if the million-dollar price tag were nothing at all. It was pretty, though it weighed down her hand. As she went outside, the facets sparkled. She saw her husband sitting in a chair by the pool with a computer in his lap, and he was more seductive to her than any diamond.
His dark form shone brighter than the white sun, which on Sardinia was really saying something.
Palm trees waved in the warm breeze, giving a hin
t of moving shade over Alessandro as she walked around the pool, swaying her hips.
He didn’t look up, but continued to stare intently at the screen. She went around to the back of his chair, then bent to rub his shoulders. “Hi.”
“Buon pomeriggio, cara,” he said absently, typing.
“Buon pomeriggio?” Smiling, she shook her head. “Buona sera.”
His expression still distracted, Alessandro glanced up at her. Then he got a good look at her bikini, and his eyes widened. He snapped his computer shut. “Buona sera,” he replied with interest. “Your Italian is coming along.”
“I’ve always been interested in your native tongue,” she said with a suggestive smile. When she saw his gaze linger upon her breasts, she glanced innocently at his computer. “I’m sorry to interrupt, were you done?”
“I am now,” he growled. Pushing the computer to a side table, he pulled her into his lap and thoroughly kissed her. As she felt his sun-warmed lips against hers, melting her from the inside, she closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. With his body against hers in the sunlight, she felt intoxicated with pleasure.
There was only one thing that bothered her.
For the last week, they’d made love constantly, eaten delicious meals, slept in each other’s arms. Last night, he’d taken her into the village for dinner, and afterward he’d held her hand as they walked through the winding streets. She’d thought she might die of happiness. Then they’d strolled past an outdoor nightclub. She’d eagerly tried to pull him towards the music, towards the dancing couples spilling out onto the street. But he’d shaken his head. “I don’t dance. You know that.”
“Oh, please,” she’d cajoled. “Just this once!”
But he’d refused. Except when they were in bed, Alessandro didn’t allow himself to do anything that might make him appear vulnerable or foolish. He didn’t dance. He didn’t play. He didn’t splash in the pool.
But that was about to change. It was time he learned to let himself go.
Playfully, Lilley pulled away from his embrace. “I need some cooling off.”
She walked over to the pool’s steps, swaying her hips as she waded slowly into the pool, relishing the shock of cool water against her skin. She went deeper, until the water level bobbed at her breasts. Then she glanced at Alessandro out of the corner of her eye. Oh yeah. He was watching, all right. With a soft, innocent sigh, she sank all the way into the water, swimming with long, sensual strokes. She bobbed up to the edge of the pool, at the foot of Alessandro’s chair.