Italian Affair Read online

  “Pay attention,” Tom murmured against her mouth.

  She opened her mouth to assure him that she was, and he kissed her, forestalling any protest from her.

  Brianna sighed against his lips and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Tom deepened the kiss and shivers skittered across her skin as he explored her mouth. She stiffened when he put his hand on her bare back to draw a lazy circle on her skin, and his lips slid from her mouth to her cheek. Goose bumps rose on her arms. It was as if he’d read her mind. She’d been thinking about touching his skin, and now his fingers were playing on her back.

  He pulled back slowly and locked his gaze with hers. “Convincing enough?” he whispered. “Now you have your villa, Mrs. Richards.”

  The warmth tingling through her body disappeared as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. For a brief minute she’d closed her eyes and pretended it was for real. Now she shivered, her body as cold as his voice.

  Blinking, she looked around at the small group surrounding them. Tom kept a tight hold of her hand as a chorus of congratulations washed over them. His aunt chattered away to him in Italian and he pulled Brianna forward.

  “Zia, welcome Brianna, my wife.”

  Aunt Carmen kissed her soundly on both cheeks and gripped her hands.

  Brianna looked across at her grandfather. A slight smile played about his mouth, and he held her gaze and extended his old wrinkled hand to her. She took it and closed her eyes. She could smell garlic and hair cream on him, but didn’t pull away as dry papery lips brushed her cheek. Unbidden tears filled her eyes, but before she could speak the old man turned away from her to Tom and shook his hand solemnly.

  “Più tardi,” he said before tipping his hat and walking out of the room. She remembered the words from the lawyer’s office last week.

  Later.

  “A meal, si?” Aunt Carmen glared at the back of the old man as he walked out of the door. “Pah, he has always been a stubborn old man.”

  Her expression changed to a beam when she turned to face them. “But it is your wedding and the rest of us will be so happy for you.” She came over to Brianna and enfolded her in a close hug. “My sister would never forgive me if I did not make a fuss of you on your wedding day.” She placed gentle hands on each side of Brianna’s face. “Welcome to the family, cara ragazza.”

  Signore Antoniolli nodded and Brianna found herself swept out the door and into the hot sunshine. Aunt Carmen and the lawyer chattered nonstop as they crossed the square, and Tom still held her hand tightly. She looked at him. For someone who was playing a role, he was doing it pretty well.

  “You can let go now, if you want.”

  He dropped her hand and she looked down at it as the sunlight glinted on her wedding ring.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she muttered under her breath. “What in the bloody hell have I done?”

  Confusion overwhelmed her, and Tom cupped his hand beneath her elbow as they reached the restaurant. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s just a bit hot.” She grabbed a menu from the counter and fanned herself as they made their way through to the courtyard in the center of the small restaurant. The waiter fussed around and seated the two women, and then poured them glasses of ice water. Aunt Carmen reached over and squeezed her hand. Her face had been wreathed in smiles since Brianna’s grandfather had left them.

  Brianna looked down at the small cake in the center of the table as she sipped her drink. It was decorated with sugared flower petals, and had a plastic bride and groom stuck in the middle. She wondered who’d ordered it.

  There was so much to process; it was as though she was in a dream. A week ago, she’d known none of these people, and now here she was sitting with a husband, his aunt, and the lawyer who had sent her that fateful letter.

  Heat filled her cheeks and her hand shook as she fanned herself with the cardboard menu. “More water, please,” she whispered.

  Tom held her against him and placed the glass of water to her lips. She sipped gratefully and the faintness receded as fast as it had come.

  “Sorry. I’ve been on a bit of an emotional roller coaster ever since I got that letter, and it all just hit me.”

  Tom squeezed her hand and kept his other arm around her bare shoulders while Aunt Carmen and Signore Antoniolli looked on affectionately.

  “You know, we didn’t think this through very well,” she whispered. “They’re going to expect us to spend the night together.”

  “Brianna, my dear.” He smiled and pushed the loose curls back from her forehead before he whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to please anyone except ourselves now that the marriage certificate is signed. Your mother’s house is all yours and we have to keep a facade up for a few months until we get an annulment. It’s as easy as that.”

  Gratitude overwhelmed her and for a moment she couldn’t speak.

  “Oh God, what a day. We did it.” All she’d worried about was herself. What about Tom? How the hell had he gotten himself mixed up in her problems? She would be eternally grateful to him, but she hadn’t given him much thought.

  She grinned at him and reached over and straightened his suit jacket. “At least you got to wear your suit before it got packed away. A wedding wasn’t on your list.”

  “What list? Do I look like a man who needs a list?”

  She looked him up and down, from his polished shoes to his crisp white shirt and straight tie, and nodded with a grin.

  “Aye, my man. You surely do.”

  “Well, I might now, but wait till you see Tom the boatman. He’s the new happy-go-lucky, don’t-give-a-damn man.”

  She burst out laughing and grabbed his arm.

  “I will be forever grateful, you know. Now, what can I do to help you out? How on earth can I ever repay you?”

  “What do you know about boats?” he asked with a smile.

  The meal continued into the afternoon, and Brianna ended up in her usual giggles when Signore Antoniolli decided to teach her some basic Italian. With the assistance of Tom’s Italian and Aunt Carmen’s English she learned several new phrases. Her working knowledge of the language now included more than casa, vivace, and avocatto.

  Signore Antoniolli stood and raised his glass. “Per cent’anni.”

  Aunt Carmen nodded. “For one hundred years,” she repeated in English.

  “They are wishing us a happy marriage for one hundred years,” Tom said.

  Eventually, it became too warm to stay outdoors as the sun rose high in the sky above the open courtyard. Signore Antoniolli picked up his hat and cane, and swept into a deep bow before he took Brianna’s hand in his.

  “Congratulazioni, mia cara.”

  Aunt Carmen grabbed both Tom and Brianna in a close hug, and then Signore Antoniolli escorted her out of the courtyard and down the cobblestoned street.

  Tom sat back and sipped his wine and looked at Brianna, his face inscrutable.

  Brianna sat back as well and looked across at him. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “What now?”

  “I guess we have to decide where we are going to spend our wedding night.” Tom put his wineglass down and frowned. “Are you too tired to get your things from the hotel and move up to the villa this afternoon, or do you want me to get another room at your hotel to keep appearances up?”

  “You sure can’t go back to your aunt’s place.” Brianna looked across at him and a wave of true affection swept over her. She grabbed both his hands in hers and turned his left hand over and looked down at his wedding ring.

  “How did you get the rings so quickly?”

  “Comes from being organized,” he said with a smile. “And having contacts. Matteo’s father owns the jewelry shop across the square.”

  “It’s a beautiful ring and entirely appropriate. Thank you.” She held her hand in front of her and the bright sunlight glinted off the Celtic love knots on the gold ring
. “I’m not too tired, and we have plenty of time left this afternoon to move into the villa. Come on, we’ll go back to the hotel. I’ll get changed and then we can spend the night at the house and decide how we are going to play this. I am worried my grandfather is still a wee bit suspicious. He barely cracked a smile the whole time he was there.”

  Tom stood and pulled her gently to her feet, and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  “Did I tell you what a beautiful bride you are?”

  “Thank you, but you don’t have to. It’s not as if I’m a real bride.”

  “But you are still a very beautiful bride.”

  Embarrassed by his words, she tried to play it down. He was so hard to figure out, and she was not going to get sucked in by him.

  “A bit different from my usual look, you mean,” she said briskly. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

  …

  Later that afternoon, Tom stood on the balcony at the side of the villa. It was a beautiful home and full of vibrant colors. The atmosphere in the house suited Brianna’s personality, and he wondered if she took after her mother. He had never met anyone so full of the joy of life, and so open.

  Shit. He cursed under his breath. Pull back, mate.

  Although after a week in Italy, he was pretty comfortable with the way things were shaping up. He stood on the balcony watching the sea darken as the sun disappeared. Gray waves were whipped up by the early evening breeze, and the chill of the evening settled. He shivered and turned to go inside where Brianna was unpacking.

  If it could be called unpacking.

  He stood and watched, trying not to laugh. Her suitcase had exploded in the middle of the tiled floor of the living area.

  “How did you manage to fit all of that into one bag?” he asked with a grin. Clothes and books, folders and papers, and a tangle of computer cables surrounded her on the floor. There was even a small printer peeking out from underneath a pile of underwear.

  She looked up at him and laughed. “Told you I wasn’t organized. Now you’ll get to see it.”

  He knelt down next to her on the tiled floor. “Can I help?

  “It’s okay, I’ll tidy it up. I’m just looking for my PJs.” She lowered her lashes. “Do I need them?” She paused and then looked up and held his gaze. “We haven’t discussed the finer details of our agreement. After all, it is our wedding night.”

  Tom’s stomach lurched and his mouth went dry. His heart pounded a slow, heavy beat, and the blood pumped through his limbs. He stood there looking at her until Brianna pushed herself to her feet and walked over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She reached up and ran a butterfly kiss across his lips, and he closed his eyes as the smell of jasmine from her loose hair assailed his senses.

  “I know what we discussed, but our agreement was only sealed with a kiss, remember?” she said softly. “Keep the legal mumbo jumbo filed away for when we finish the marriage.”

  She looked earnestly up into his face, and the tip of her small pink tongue touched her top lip.

  Leaning over close to him, her voice was hesitant, but then her tongue touched his lips in invitation. “Will you come to bed with me, Tom?”

  Tom’s world tilted on its axis, but he held her shoulders and stepped back, putting some space between them. He bit down on the anger building in his chest as he tried to find the right words to say without losing his temper and hurting her feelings. He knew it was only gratitude on her part. No matter how much he wanted her, he didn’t sleep with anyone out of gratitude. He shook his head slowly.

  “I don’t sleep with anyone because they think they owe me for a favor.”

  “No…listen to me, Tom. Hear me out. Looking at you makes me feel, well, you should…you should know. We’re adults, and unless I’m reading you the wrong way, you’re attracted to me as well. So we might as well share a bed and have some fun while we’re here together.” She put her hands on his shoulders and stood on tiptoes. “I know this isn’t for real, and I know neither of us wants that, but it’s the least I can do.”

  Tom lifted her hands from his shoulders, placed them by her side, and walked across to the window. He was tempted to take her in his arms and kiss her, but he was determined to walk away from the temptation. It wasn’t the way he wanted it to happen. Not because she felt she owed him something for a marriage certificate. If indeed it ever happened.

  She looked up at him, and those green eyes that had been brimming with tears over the past week were alight with laughter, and her lips parted as she stared at him.

  “I don’t expect sexual favors because I have helped you out, Brianna.”

  She burst out laughing.

  “Oh, God, Tom. You’re so uptight. Look, I’ll make you another deal. You helped me out. I’m more than happy for you to be my ‘bidie-in,’ and I’ll help you get over your hang-ups.”

  “My what?”

  “Oh, you know what I mean,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “No, Miss Psychologist, I don’t know what you mean. And how would you know if I have sexual hang-ups? You’ve known me a week and you don’t know anything about me. And I don’t know anything about you. That’s the reason we need to take this slow.” He glared at her. “If we take it anywhere at all.”

  “I think we need to make an agreement. For all I know you’re after half my villa. We should have done that before. I’m surprised you didn’t insist on it, Mr. Organized.”

  “A legal agreement?”

  “Yes, a legal agreement. Just in case I’m after your marina.”

  He laughed. “For what it’s worth.”

  She turned away from him and her face was hidden in the shadows. “Just in case you think I might be on the make, we need to make an agreement. Between you and me, seeing we can’t involve the lawyers. I’ll go and get my laptop and you can type it up.”

  “No, thank you. We’re not going to do that while we’re both angry.” Tom forced his anger down. “We’ll sort out an agreement in the morning. Okay?”

  “All right, then. I’m going to bed.”

  “Where shall I sleep?”

  “I’ve put my stuff in the room near the bathroom,” she said, her back still turned to him. “You can have the other one or the lounge. I don’t give a shit.”

  “Brianna?”

  She turned slowly and her face was closed, her Scottish burr clipped.

  “What?”

  “You are a very beautiful woman, but I don’t think gratitude is a good basis for a sexual relationship.”

  “No matter, I’ve changed my mind anyway. We can live here together as strangers and when your visit’s up, you can go on your merry way with all your finances intact. Our agreement will make sure you don’t try to get half shares in my villa. After all, you don’t trust me. Why should I trust you?”

  She slammed the teapot into the sink. “Now, I’m going to bed.” She stomped across the living room into the bedroom and slammed the door.

  “I do trust you,” he said quietly.

  “Whatever,” came the muffled reply through the closed door.

  Chapter Ten

  The soughing of the waves washing back over the pebbly beach below the villa woke Tom before sunrise. His chest was heavy as he remembered the argument with Brianna.

  God, he was so damn attracted to her, and he knew he’d hurt her feelings. It had taken him ages to get to sleep. Logic told him it was way too soon to get involved with her. He was still not ready to go down that path, no matter how much she tempted him.

  He tended to avoided situations like this—he hated conflict and messy emotions. Give him a financial problem to sort out any day. When you didn’t depend on anyone else, you didn’t have to deal with all the emotional crap that came with it. He much preferred his life to be organized and predictable.

  So what the hell was he doing? He’d been happy with the agreement as it stood, and then Brianna had to go and ruin it all last night. He hated not being in control
.

  Friends with benefits was not the way he operated.

  He dozed back off and woke a while later when the bed creaked and moved. He rolled over to his side. Or rather, he attempted to roll over. A weight on his chest and legs prevented him from moving, and he opened his eyes slowly. Tom groaned and immediately closed them. He kept them squeezed shut, hoping he was still asleep and this was a dream, but a little giggle and a tickle of hair on his bare chest convinced him he was awake and his wife of less than twenty-four hours was straddling his bare legs.

  Brianna was perched on his thighs with her knees resting on each side of him on the crisp white sheets. “Open your eyes. I know you’re awake.”

  Tom obeyed reluctantly. Her black curls tumbled in wild disarray over her bare shoulders and skimmed the edge of the sheet she clutched in front of her breasts.

  “Brianna, what…what the fuck do you think you are doing? Stay there any longer and I won’t be responsible for what happens.” He closed his eyes, covered them with one hand, and waited for her to leave.

  No such luck. Or more to the point, he was about to get lucky.

  “I’m apologizing to you.”

  “Apologizing?”

  “Yes, I was a right cow last night.”

  He opened his eyes again and tried to pull the other side of the sheet up over his bare stomach, but it slipped from his grasp and slid farther down her front, revealing the tips of dusky nipples. Oh God, her knees were on either side of him. He swallowed as the blood beat thick and heavy, and pulsed straight to his groin.

  “Don’t say a word,” she whispered.

  He opened his mouth to speak. She leaned forward and placed her fingers over his mouth. Her breasts brushed his bare chest through the sheet, and he closed his eyes again and took a deep breath.

  “Now I want your full attention for a wee while, and if I start babbling tell me to put a sock in it.”

  Tom was in no state to think about socks or anything else. His brain had joined the lower half of his anatomy. He nodded without opening his eyes, fighting between the fading desire for her to leave and the need to grab her and roll on top of her.