The Mills & Boon Stars Collection

The silence smouldered like a simmering pot on a gas hob. Jemima could feel heat striking through her, spreading up from the warmth in her pelvis. He did that to her. He made her tummy fill with butterflies. He made an embarrassing hot, slick sensation pulse between her thighs. He made her nipples tighten and push against the barrier of her bra.

That reality mortified and shamed her and reminded her of her first crush as a teenager when her body had gone haywire with a physical longing she hadn’t understood and hadn’t really been ready to embrace. But this was different because those responses were now attacking her adult body. She found herself studying that gorgeous face of his even though she didn’t want to stare, didn’t want to notice the perfection of his sleek cheekbones, the classic jut of his nose or the strong line of the jaw cradling that superbly masculine mouth. And then she fell into the dark and dangerous enticement of his deep-set eyes that were tigerish gold in the light from the window and once she looked she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t even function, she thought in bemused dismay.

The door opened and an older woman came in carrying a tray. Coffee was poured. Luciano took his black and without sugar. Jemima took hers milky and sweet, their differences as pronounced in coffee as in everything else.

Cradling his cup in one elegant, long-fingered hand, Luciano murmured, ‘I’ve decided that I want you to accompany us to Sicily as the nanny you offered to be...’

Shock made Jemima’s lower lip part from her upper and she breathed again and a little faster, her eyes widening at that bombshell of a suggestion.

‘It would ease the transition for my son but it would be on the strict understanding that you would begin stepping back from him while allowing others to step forward to take your place in his little world,’ Luciano spelt out coolly. ‘He must learn to do without you.’

Jemima tried and failed to swallow as he described the role. He had delivered the killing blow of truth by telling her what he ultimately expected and wanted from her. Sicily and the nanny job would be very temporary for her and would come at a high cost for a woman who loved the child she cared for. She lost colour, pain knotting inside her at the prospect of walking away from Nicky, but at the same time with every word Luciano Vitale spoke she saw that whether she liked it or not he was worthy of her respect as a father. He detested her yet he still recognised the strength of her bond with his son and he was keen to protect Nicky from getting hurt. How could she judge him badly for that? A more gradual process of parting Jemima from her nephew should work much better than a sudden break, she reasoned unhappily. Luciano was taking the sensible, cautious approach to the problem.

Her silence perturbed Luciano, who had expected instant eager agreement. Didn’t Jemima Barber worship money and the high life? Wasn’t she a fish out of water in her parents’ modest home? He had assumed that was why she had made the strange offer to take on the role of acting as her son’s nanny. After all, only that position would grant her entry into Luciano’s wealthy, exclusive and privileged world. She was also broke, in debt and had to be afraid of the police catching up with her, so a trip abroad should have all the appeal of an escape hatch.

‘Have you changed your mind about that offer?’ Luciano asked in surprise.

‘Well, it was an impulse of the moment offer,’ Jemima admitted ruefully. ‘I didn’t really think it through. It was provoked by the prospect of parting from Nicky—’

‘Sicily may make the process a little less traumatic,’ Luciano commented tongue-in-cheek, reckoning that a few little treats like shopping trips round the fashion houses would quickly improve her attitude. Of course, he knew she wanted more and he was prepared to give her more to oil the wheels of persuasion. ‘If you agree, I will naturally settle your debts here in the UK and compensate the men whose credit cards you stole so that they will drop the charges. That would remove the threat of arrest as well.’

In shock at that smoothly outlined proposition, Jemima snatched in a stark breath of astonishment and studied him with frowning eyes. ‘But it wouldn’t be right to let you pay those bills.’

Luciano raised a cynical brow. ‘Of course you will be happy for me to settle your debts,’ he countered forcefully. ‘That is the sort of woman you are. Why are you trying to pretend otherwise?’

At that direct and unsettling question, Jemima flushed and hurriedly dropped her eyes. Julie would never have argued against such a benefit. In that he was quite correct. Her twin had always happily taken money to settle her problems and fulfil her dreams and not once had she protested or done anything that would have worked against her own natural interests. So, if Jemima was still set on pretending to be Julie, she had to bite her lip and go with the flow. She tried to take a sensible overview of her situation. The debts Julie had acquired in Jemima’s name were a major source of worry to both her and her parents. To be free of that pressure would be wonderful, she acknowledged guiltily.

‘And quite naturally I don’t want my son’s mother dragged into court over debts or dishonesty,’ Luciano pointed out without hesitation.

But I’m not your son’s mother, she suddenly wanted to tell him, because the web of her deceit was getting thicker and harder to justify. And what would happen if she simply told him the truth now? Would he still take her with them to Sicily? Still offer her the chance to learn how to part gently from the baby she loved? Jemima thought not. She stole a glance at him from below her lashes. She had lied to him. If he found that out, he would be so angry he would snatch up his son and walk away. He wasn’t a forgiving or understanding or tolerant man. Furthermore the only thing she had to offer on his terms was that she was supposedly the mother of his son. Shorn of that borrowed status, she would have no standing whatsoever in his eyes.

‘Obviously not,’ Jemima conceded tightly before she could lose her nerve again. ‘I’ll come to Sicily with Nicky—’

‘Niccolò,’ Luciano corrected without hesitation.

‘He’ll always be Nicky to me,’ she fielded quietly, refusing to give ground.

Something bright flashed in his dark gaze, lighting his eyes gold like the dawn sky, and she stiffened, like a small animal suddenly faced with a predator.

‘Doing what I tell you to do would be a wise move now,’ Luciano spelt out softly, his intent gaze raking down over the fullness of her pink lips, the swell of her tantalising breasts and the slim legs on view. He had never lusted after a woman of her ilk before. What did that say about him? But lust was healthy and indifference was not, he reasoned fiercely, all too reluctant to banish the sexual energy infusing him when for the first time in much longer than he cared to recall he felt alive again.

Suddenly restless, Jemima uncoiled her legs and stood up. ‘You’re trying to intimidate me.’

The golden gaze grew ever more intense. ‘Am I?’

‘I’ll do everything that is reasonable but I won’t be intimidated and I won’t grovel,’ she framed tautly, extraordinarily aware of the darker, deeper note in his rich drawl and the warning flare of his brows.

‘You won’t?’ Luciano’s intonation was soft and slippery as silk brushing her skin as he stalked closer, all predator, all threat.

And she should have backed away, she knew that was what she should do, but a current of inexplicable excitement was quivering up through Jemima and working its own seduction. ‘I won’t,’ she confirmed shakily, her own voice dropping in volume and, to her annoyance, emerging breathily.

‘But the idea of you grovelling at my knees is appealing, piccolo mia,’ Luciano confided huskily, eyes golden and predatory as a raptor’s locked to her upturned face. ‘The image of you giving me pleasure while you’re doing it gives me a high...’

At first, Jemima just couldn’t credit that he had said that to her and then she told herself that he couldn’t possibly have meant that sexual innuendo. A surge of embarrassment and uncertainty caused a burst of colour to fly into her cheeks and she blinked, trying to close him out, trying to rescue her brain from the sudden erotic imagery he had filled it with. That wasn’t something that had ever happened to her before in a man’s presence. She didn’t imagine doing sexual things with men as a rule, but maybe if she had, a little voice whispered, Steven would not have been so stupefied by her infinitely bolder twin. Something about Luciano Vitale got to her on a primal level she had never experienced before.

‘Did you really just say what I thought you said?’ she mumbled unevenly.

CHAPTER FOUR

A HUSKY LAUGH escaped from Luciano. ‘Is that how you work this spell with men who should know better? You flutter your lashes and blush at will and act naïve? Let’s hit the bottom line and save some time. I don’t want naïve or shy or fake virginal, Jemima. I like women who aren’t afraid to be women...just as I am a man unafraid to admit when I feel like sex.’

Jemima was out of her depth and didn’t know where to look or what to say. She couldn’t admit that she wasn’t a fake virgin and she couldn’t admit to being naïve or shy when Julie hadn’t had a shy or modest bone in her entire body. Julie had treated sexual invitations as ego boosts and had revelled unashamedly in male admiration. For just a moment, Jemima longed for the cool to emulate her late sister, who had taken her looks and sensuality for granted. He felt like sex? Involuntarily she glanced up at him again and a tiny little hot frisson ran up from her feminine core to pinch her nipples taut when she collided with his gleaming golden eyes. She felt the pull of his magnetic force then, the potent, compelling awareness of a powerful sexuality.

‘And equally unafraid to act,’ Luciano imparted, every predatory instinct in his big powerful body fired by her masquerade of innocence as he reached for her, determined to smash that façade that was so very foolish in the circumstances when he knew so much about her true character.

Jemima regained the strength to move a little too late, her paralysed legs moving her clumsily backwards in the unfamiliar room. He had knocked her off her usual calm, rational perch and wrecked her composure with that blunt sexual come-on. He had truly shocked her but he had excited her as well because, on a level Jemima didn’t want to examine, she was hugely flattered by the idea that a male as gorgeous as Luciano Vitale could find her attractive.

As he spoke Luciano reached for her and propelled her back against the door she had almost reached, one hand closing round her shoulder, the other rising to curve to her chin. ‘I like the chase. You’re right about that, piccolo mia,’ he told her incomprehensibly as if she had spoken. ‘But this is the wrong time to run away.’

She was entrapped by his gaze, her chest swelling as she snatched in a needy breath, her throat tight with tension. Luciano Vitale wanted her. Her? The very concept turned her inside out because he was drop-dead beautiful in a way she had never dreamt existed. From the crown of his luxuriant black hair to his stunning eyes and flawless bone structure, he mesmerised her.

‘Your pupils are dilated...’ Luciano breathed, stroking a strand of golden hair back from her brow to tuck it below her ear, shifting closer, bending his dark head.

‘Are they?’ She was so insanely aware of how much taller and stronger he was, she was frozen with her hips welded against the solid wooden door. The lemony scent of his cologne assailed her nostrils. He smelled amazingly good and a ball of heat warmed in her pelvis.

‘I scare you, don’t I?’ Luciano laughed again, startling her. ‘I don’t want to scare you...not any more.’

His breath fanned her cheek and she shivered, feeling the press of his long, powerful thighs and the hard, thrusting fullness at his groin against her stomach. Her whole body seemed to overheat at that point of contact. He was aroused and she had made him that way...she, Jemima Barber, without cosmetic witchery or fancy clothes. Who would ever have believed it? She felt like a real woman for the first time since Steven’s betrayal. She didn’t understand what possible appeal she could have for Luciano Vitale, but she didn’t much care during that instant of exhilaration. As he lowered his head a little more and his lips brushed whisper soft across hers, it felt like her moment and it felt crazily like something she had been waiting for all her life.

Long fingers laced into her hair to hold her steady and the pressure deepened. She opened her mouth and he took immediate advantage with a dominance that thrilled rather than annoyed. His tongue darted into the moist interior and tangled with hers and she kissed him back with an eagerness she couldn’t suppress. Her body took flight on new sensation, excitement rising like a tide inside her, drowning out every objecting voice in the back of her head. Every inch of her was suddenly tender and supersensitive, so that firm brush of his hand across her covered breasts made her straining nipples prickle in reaction and the trail of his fingers up her thigh as he lifted her skirt set her on fire with tingling impatience and longing. That passionate kiss held her utterly spellbound, her senses excited beyond bearing, and the throb of awakening between her thighs was almost unbearable in its intensity.

He stroked a fingertip across the tight triangle of fabric stretched between her legs and her knees turned to water. ‘You’re wet,’ he told her thickly.

She couldn’t breathe for shock at the tiny tremors of response quivering through her while the heat at the heart of her stoked higher. She had never in her life before wanted to be touched so badly and she was ashamed of the desire until his hungry mouth found hers again with bruising force and all thought fled in the same instant. One kiss and he dragged her under again while his skilled fingers strummed beneath her panties and stoked the hunger higher, sliding into the moist cleft and caressing the slick tissue before returning to the tiny bud that controlled her entire being.

She trembled and a strangled moan was wrenched from low in her throat as he rubbed her tormentingly sensitive flesh and suddenly her body was racing out of her control and she was jerking helplessly and gasping mindlessly beneath his mouth in a sudden explosive climax that blew her away. Her legs gave way and she would have fallen had he not lifted her and settled her down on the nearest seat.

Limp and shaking, she wrenched her rucked skirt down in a desperate movement. Shock was blasting through her and her heart was still racing. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She couldn’t believe that she had let him do that to her...something so intimate, so inappropriate, so wanton...

‘You were ready for that,’ Luciano purred, staring down at her with smouldering dark golden eyes. ‘You’re a passionate woman.’

But Jemima had never been a passionate woman. Steven had told her that passion was for sluts and she had always been careful not to seem too keen in that line because that had seemed to be what he expected from her. When he had plunged into a wild fling with Julie she had been shattered at how quickly he had changed his attitude. Luciano, however, wanted that passion, thrived on it, she sensed in confusion, forcing herself to look at him, her face hot and flushed, her sated body still somehow feeling like a wanton stranger’s.

‘Let’s not...talk about it,’ she mumbled unsteadily.

‘Let’s not... I prefer to do rather than talk,’ Luciano murmured, wondering why she was still acting so oddly. Touching her had been a mistake. He wanted more. Given the smallest encouragement he would have dragged her off to bed and eased the burn of his libido. He didn’t want to wait. He wasn’t used to waiting but he was suddenly very conscious of who she was. His son’s mother. It would be most unwise to rock the boat before they reached the security of his Sicilian home, Castello del Drogo.

‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ Jemima breathed tightly, rising from her seat and snatching up her bag. ‘I don’t know how it did—’

Luciano was not amused. ‘It’s simple. I wanted you. You wanted me—’

‘I forgot where I was and who I was with for a moment,’ Jemima corrected stiffly, still carefully evading his eyes. ‘I was out of control.’

‘I liked it.’ Luciano could not understand why she was in retreat. With his knowledge of her, she should have been making the most of the situation and trying to please him. And he was very much in the mood to be pleased.

‘You were talking about Sicily and...er...settling bills,’ she reminded him stonily.

Ah, business first. He perfectly understood her change of focus. ‘I will take care of them. You will have to sign a confidentiality agreement first. You will not be free to talk to anyone, and that includes the media, about the surrogacy agreement or about me or my son,’ he informed her with forbidding cool.

‘That’s not a problem. I’ll go and see if Nicky is awake yet. It’ll be time for us to leave soon,’ she said with scarcely concealed eagerness as she checked her watch.

Luciano stood watching the door swing shut on her exit. A black winged brow quirked. Was it some sort of a game she played with men? Give a little and then back off? Some men would want her all the more after that type of will-she-won’t-she uncertainty. But Luciano was in no doubt that she would ultimately share his bed and her withdrawal irritated him. He hardened even more at the prospect of spreading those soft, rounded thighs and plunging between them until he had attained his pleasure. One night would probably be enough, he decided with a dark smile. He wanted her horizontal. For that single night he wanted her every which way up he could have her. That would work her back out of his system and possibly by that stage he would grasp what had attracted him in the first place.

At least there would be no complications with Jemima, he reflected as he phoned his housekeeper to make household arrangements. Never mind Jemima’s little ploys, she knew the score. He would reward her richly for sex, for sharing physical pleasure without emotion or strings, and she would be quite happy to walk away again.

* * *

‘I’m a close friend of Jemima’s and her family,’ Steven Warrington declared smugly as he walked into Luciano’s office. ‘And with respect, I’d like to know why you think it’s necessary for her to accompany you and your child to Sicily.’

Luciano surveyed the smaller blond man with shrewd, unimpressed eyes. ‘That’s my personal business, Mr Warrington. But I see no reason not to tell you that my son is attached to Jemima and I’d like to minimise his sorrow when she moves on.’

‘Taking Jemima to Sicily with you seems a strange way of letting her move on,’ Steven opined with another smile. ‘I’d prefer it if you simply removed your son now and left Jemima to get on with her life unencumbered.’

‘Happily your opinion doesn’t count,’ Luciano fielded.

‘It soon will. She’s the woman I intend to marry.’

Luciano almost rolled his eyes at the idea of Jemima, with her decided preference for the wilder side of life, anchored by a wedding ring to the highly conservative male in front of him, but his lean, dark features remained unrevealing. ‘Congratulations,’ he responded smoothly.

The information he had already requested on Steven Warrington was finally rolling up on Luciano’s computer screen as the younger man departed. Had Luciano the patience, he would have received that information before agreeing to see Warrington but curiosity had driven Luciano to depart from his habitual caution. So, Steven was an ex and there was a very, very long list of exes in Jemima’s chequered past. Did she leave them all longing for a raunchy repeat? Although not the ones whose wallets she had lifted, Luciano conceded, while wondering why that aspect of her nature didn’t bother him more. She was a thief. Why did he want to bed her? He had never knowingly wanted to bed a deceitful woman before. Having grown up in the shadows of a crime-fuelled household, he was not drawn to the dark side in any way. Unlike his late father he was temperate and controlled.

Maybe he had been too ascetic in his habits for too long, he reasoned in frustration, because he was still struggling to understand the key to Jemima Barber’s appeal. Even so, he wanted her and on those grounds he would have her simply because remarkably few things in life gave Luciano genuine pleasure. Steven Warrington’s self-righteousness amused him. Jemima had no plans to marry Steven. He was quite sure of that.

But somehow that didn’t eradicate an almost overwhelming temptation to smash a fist through Steven’s blindingly white teeth. Luciano didn’t comprehend the urge and he suppressed it, thoroughly off-balanced by that sudden lurch towards violence. He had felt it before, of course he had, with his very genes drenched in the violence and corruption of his forebears. But never ever had he had that experience where a woman was concerned and that awareness unsettled him. One night. He would have her in his bed for only one night, he assured himself grimly.

In any case, he reflected thoughtfully, it was not as though he could be at any real risk with Jemima, because Luciano didn’t do emotional connections with anyone. His son would be the sole exception to that rule. Loving and caring for a child was pure and it wouldn’t damage him or anybody else.

* * *

‘I think it’s the best solution for everybody,’ Ellie declared bravely while Jemima was trying to console her weeping mother and her deeply troubled father as the four of them sat round the kitchen table over mugs of tea.

Jemima was feeling sick with shame at having hidden so much from her adoptive parents and she still did not feel up to the challenge of telling them the truth. They would have been horrified if they knew that she was pretending to be her dead sister and faking being Nicky’s mother. No argument she could make would persuade them that such dishonesty was justified. In any case her parents were already dealing with quite enough. The older couple had returned from Devon only that morning to learn that their daughter and Nicky would be leaving the next day for a trip to Sicily, following which Jemima would be returning home alone. Unfortunately Julie’s son had become as dear to Jemima’s parents as any grandchild. They too had been part of Nicky’s life almost from birth.

‘Nicky is Luciano’s son and the poor guy’s been searching for him all these months,’ Ellie pointed out, trying hard to support her friend’s arguments in favour of the trip to Sicily and the inevitable surrendering of Nicky to his sole surviving parent.

‘I believe he’ll be a good father. He’s only asking me along because he knows Nicky’s attached to me and he doesn’t want him to be hurt by me suddenly disappearing from his life,’ Jemima explained afresh.

‘Mr Vitale is being responsible,’ her father conceded thoughtfully. ‘Although I could never condone the agreement he made with Julie. That was rash and she was the worst possible candidate he could’ve chosen—’

‘Yes, but don’t forget it wasn’t Julie he really picked. He believed he was picking Jemima.’ Ellie was quick to remind the older man that Julie had applied to be a surrogate using her twin’s identity rather than her own.

‘True and you’ve certainly stood by the little chap, giving him what he needs to flourish,’ Jemima’s father said to his daughter with warm approval. ‘I suppose we’ll simply have to wait until our daughter gives us a grandchild to fuss over, my dear,’ he said to his wife.

Jemima paled beneath that look of approbation. She knew just how shocked her parents would be if they ever learned about the deceit she had employed in her dealings with Luciano.

That same morning, Charles Bennett made a return visit with a colleague in tow. He read through the confidentiality agreement with Jemima and explained every clause while his companion informed Jemima that he was there on her behalf to protect her interests. He spoke up on several occasions, pointing out that a lot of money could be made from selling stories to the media but that choosing to abide by Luciano’s rules would be financially rewarded by a bonus once she had finished working for him. Jemima signed on the dotted line and was grateful when the lawyers left.

Later that same day, Ellie stood by grinning while Jemima patiently stood and obediently posed while all her measurements were taken and carefully noted down by the middle-aged female tailor and her assistant who had also called at Luciano’s request.

‘So, he’s planning for you to wear a nanny uniform?’ Ellie remarked teasingly after the women had departed.

Jemima pulled a face. ‘Obviously,’ she pointed out ruefully, far from looking forward to the prospect of being dressed in some starchy formal outfit in the Sicilian heat.

‘I suppose it’s one good way of ensuring that you don’t forget that you’re one of the workers rather than a guest... I mean, it could be a bit awkward with you supposedly being Nicky’s mother,’ her friend opined with a wince. ‘When are you planning to tell Luciano that you’re Julie’s sister?’

Jemima grimaced. ‘Probably not until I’m leaving Sicily, which will be the end of August at the latest because term starts the following week and I’ll be starting teaching again,’ she reminded the other woman. ‘It would be a bit of a risk admitting my true identity any sooner than that because Luciano could just ask me to leave immediately but by late August it’s hardly going to matter to him.’

‘Stop beating yourself up about it. You’re not doing anyone any harm—’

‘It’s not that simple, Ellie. Every time I’m with Luciano I’m lying to him,’ Jemima pointed out heavily, wishing she had found it possible to confide in Ellie about how much more complicated her relationship with Luciano had recently become. The problem was that she was too ashamed to admit that their strained relationship had suddenly—inexplicably, to her—dived into the kind of intimacy she had always held back from.

Only three days had passed since that day in London and she still lay in her bed at night unable to quite accept that she had fooled around with Luciano to the extent that she had forgotten not only the tenets that she had been raised by, but also everything she could not afford to forget about her current predicament. She was acting as Julie, not herself, and, although she was convinced that her late sister would also have succumbed to the advances of a gorgeous billionaire, she knew she couldn’t grasp at that as an excuse for her behaviour. In reality she had lost control and had allowed herself to be swept away on a roller coaster of sexual sensation new to her. She had acted like a giddy teenager rather than a grown-up, had lived in the moment, had rejoiced in the moment without any thought of what it would be like to meet Luciano again or to work for him in an official capacity.

‘You’re lying solely for Nicky’s benefit,’ Ellie told her with loyal reassurance. ‘And by going to Sicily with Nicky you’re making all these changes easier for him—’

Jemima gave her friend an anxious look. ‘So you think I’m doing the right thing?’

‘I always thought that the best solution for Nicky was to be with the father who arranged for him to be born. He’s a lovely child, I can see that, but he’s not your child. I hate to agree with Steven about anything but I do want you to get your own life back,’ her friend told her ruefully. ‘Be young, free and single again. You deserve that. Nicky was Julie’s mistake.’

Jemima compressed her lips and said nothing. She could not think of Nicky’s bright, loving existence as a mistake on any terms and being single and free had proved a less fun-filled experience for her than she had been led to expect. Nicky was part of her life now and she loved him. She had not carried her nephew through a pregnancy but the little boy felt as much a part of her as though she had. She knew that walking away from him was going to hurt her a lot, but, if that was truly what was best for Nicky in the long run, she would have to learn to live with that.

The next morning, Jemima, Nicky and their luggage were collected by a limousine accompanied by a car full of bodyguards. The trip to the airport was accomplished in record time and even boarding the private jet awaiting them was a fairly smooth and speedy experience. Jemima was surprised that Luciano was not on board and that, indeed, she and Nicky appeared to be the only passengers aside of the security staff, who took seats at the rear of the plane. The cabin crew made a big fuss of Nicky and were unceasingly attentive.

Luciano boarded in Paris, where he’d had a meeting, and the first thing he noticed was Jemima, curled up fast asleep in a reclining seat with Nicky out for the count beside her in his fancy travelling seat. Her mane of hair was braided when he wanted to see it loose again...even though he knew much of that hair was fake? He shook off that awkward question and scanned the worn jeans and casual washed-out top she sported with a frown of incomprehension forming between his dark brows. Why had she not yet made the effort to dress up for him...even once? No woman had ever been so sure of her hold on Luciano’s interest that she would show up garbed almost as poorly as a homeless person! Or was this deliberate dressing down and this avoidance of glamour merely Jemima’s highly effective way of ensuring that he bought her a new wardrobe?