Hot Christmas Nights: Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding / His for Revenge / Mistletoe Not Required. Anne OliverЧитать онлайн книгу.
body. Somebody without a mind of her own. ‘But I don’t know anything about your life, Giancarlo.’
Giancarlo let his hand drift down to her breast. Why did women always want to interrogate you—and at the most inappropriate times? Hadn’t he hoped that his little shop-girl would be docile when he wanted her to be? He sighed. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Tell me how you ended up living in London.’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Those are the best ones.’
In spite of himself, he smiled—his finger stilling on the puckering rosy flesh of her nipple. ‘You are very persistent, aren’t you?’
She bit her lip as she felt pleasure rippling from where he was touching her. Was he trying to distract her? ‘J-just interested.’
He looked into her flushed face. ‘I told you that I was Tuscan by birth?’
‘Mmm.’ Cassie nodded, snuggling a little closer to him. ‘What’s it like in Tuscany?’
The clean, fresh smell of her struck some long-hidden chord within him so that for once he allowed himself to think of the green hills and sun-washed landscape of home—even though he had ring-fenced his memories and put them out of bounds. Exiled himself from it in all the ways that he could—so that even on his rare, duty visits home he didn’t allow nostalgia or sentiment to lure him.
‘What’s it like? Well, it is very beautiful. In fact, some people say it’s the most beautiful place on earth.’
‘So why…why live here, and not there?’
‘It’s complicated.’ He wound a strand of blonde hair around his finger. ‘My brother lives there—and it’s a little too small for both of us.’
He had a brother. She felt as if she had just discovered a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. ‘What’s he like?’
‘We’re twins.’
‘Twins!’ She turned onto her tummy and looked at him. ‘Identical twins?’
‘Not really. Well, we…look the same,’ he said, and then gave a short laugh. ‘But no two men are identical, Cassandra—if you were a little more experienced, you’d know that.’
Cassie registered the darkness which underpinned his voice. ‘You had some sort of fall-out?’ she guessed softly.
Giancarlo looked into her eyes and suddenly had the strangest desire to tell her. Was it because pillow talk and secrets were the currency traditionally shared with a mistress—or because her place in his life was so temporary that telling her would have no impact on it? She didn’t mix in his circles and she never would. And hadn’t he buried the memory so deep that he was curious now to see what it would look like if he dragged it out into the cold and dispassionate light of day?
‘A fall-out? Yes, I guess you could say that.’
‘What happened?’
Giancarlo swallowed because the acid taste of betrayal could still catch him unawares. Even now. He stared at the ceiling. ‘It all started soon after the death of our parents. My mother died when I was twelve—my father five years earlier.’
‘That must have been very hard,’ said Cassie softly.
She had the kind of voice which soothed—which felt like balm on his troubled recall. ‘Yes. It was a lonely kind of childhood. Plenty of money but not much else.’
‘And who looked after you?’
‘Oh, we had a series of guardians—aristocratic and intellectual men appointed by the estate who were supposed to educate us, and who we used to take pleasure in outwitting.’ He shrugged his broad, naked shoulders. ‘We were pretty much a law unto ourselves. And of course—we were fiercely competitive. Life was a constant battle to each prove ourselves—maybe to compensate for the lack of parental guidance.’
His mouth hardened. And the lack of warmth, or softness, of course—for there had been no compensatory woman’s touch. No comfort or reassurance from the gentler sex given to two little rich boys who ran wild as gypsies.
Giancarlo felt something like pain as memories came flooding back—more vivid than he had expected them to be. ‘Both Raul and I went to university in Rome. I read law and he read business. We were due to inherit the family estate when we turned twenty-one and we were going to work it between us.’
He remembered Gabriella, too. Tiny and beautiful—with thick hair even blacker than his own and eyes like polished jet. Gabriella, the darling and beauty of the campus. The woman every man had wanted and she had wanted Giancarlo. Oh, yes. His competitive nature had been at first flattered and then seduced by her attention towards him. How he had basked in her adoration and the envy of his peers and how he had revelled in that hot, heady explosion of first love. For a while they became the golden couple—making plans for the future and the family they would make together. And then…
‘So what happened?’
Cassie’s question broke into his thoughts. ‘We both qualified.’
‘Similar degrees?’
‘Mine was better.’ He shrugged. ‘And that is not a boast, but a fact. And that rankled with my brother. On our twenty-first birthday we were summoned into our lawyer’s office and told that Raul would inherit everything. The farms. The vineyards. The olive groves and the properties in Rome and Siena. The vast estates with which the Vellutini name was synonymous would all pass to him.’ He paused. ‘While I would receive precisely nothing.’
Cassie stiffened as she heard the cold note which had entered his voice. ‘Nothing?’ she echoed, bewildered.
‘Niente,’ he confirmed and then emphasised the word again in English. ‘Nothing.’
‘But that’s terrible! Why?’
Giancarlo knew then why he had buried the story. The words were still like bitter poison to say and the betrayal they evoked more bitter still. ‘Because we had been born by Caesarean section and Raul was plucked from our mother’s womb exactly two minutes before me.’ His voice roughened. ‘Making him the true heir to the Vellutini fortune.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Cassie breathed as she stared into the black brilliance of his eyes. ‘That’s…unbelievable!’
‘Have you never heard about primogeniture?’ he questioned softly. ‘The first-born’s right of inheritance. It’s pretty feudal—some might say primitive—but legally binding, all the same.’
She let the words sink in, trying to imagine what she might have done if she’d been in his brother’s position. ‘But didn’t…Raul—feel morally obliged to share some of his good fortune with you?’
Giancarlo’s lips curved into an acid smile as he remembered the look of unmistakable delight on his brother’s face—and the subsequent and insulting offer of a small, barren piece of land in Puglia, which he had rejected. ‘Not in any real sense, no. Sharing wasn’t really Raul’s thing. In fact, in the true spirit of sibling rivalry—and maybe to make up for all the times I’d beaten him—he decided that he still hadn’t got quite enough. So for good measure he also took Gabriella, the woman I was going to marry—although, to be fair, he didn’t have to try very hard. She liked the finer things in life and Raul was able to provide them for her. Why hang around with the twin who was going to have to work for his living when you could lead a life of luxury as a rich man’s wife?’
Cassie bit back a gasp as she thought about the impact that must have had on him. Why, it must have been like a kick in the teeth—no money and, then, no girlfriend. His imagined future completely distorted. His pride trampled underfoot. And that might hit him harder than anything else, she realised—with a sudden flash of insight. ‘So what happened?’
‘I came to England and worked for a law firm which