His Virgin Bride: The Fiorenza Forced Marriage / Bought: For His Convenience or Pleasure? / A Night With Consequences. Margaret MayoЧитать онлайн книгу.
the same to you.’
Rafaele held her feisty glare. ‘Do so at your peril, Emma. You might think you have got the upper hand now your goal of marrying a rich man is just hours away, but do not forget who you are dealing with. My father might have been a weak-willed pushover, but you will not find me so easy to manipulate. You put one foot out of line and you will live to regret it. I will make sure of it.’
She gave him an insolent look. ‘Do you have any idea how much I loathe and detest you?’
His mouth tilted in a mocking smile. ‘If it is even half of what I feel for you, then I would say we are in for a very entertaining year of marriage.’
‘I am not staying married to you any longer than necessary,’ she said with another defiant glare. ‘Once I have what I want I am leaving.’
‘Believe me, Emma Money-Hungry March,’ he drawled dryly, ‘I will be the first on hand to help you pack your bags.’
She looked as if she was going to fling another retort his way, but suddenly seemed to change her mind. Instead she pressed her lips tightly together and brushed past him, her gait stiff with haughtiness. It was only later, much later, that he recalled seeing a glisten of moisture in her eyes before she had lowered them out of the reach of his.
WHEN Emma came downstairs the following morning wearing the wedding dress and veil Rafaele’s mother had worn on her wedding day he felt a shock wave of reaction go through him. She had styled her chestnut hair into a smooth princess-like chignon at the back of her head, her flawless face lightly made up with foundation and eye-shadow and just a hint of blusher on her cheeks. Her lips were a glossy pink and the fragrance she wore floated down towards him with every cautious step she took as the dress’s train followed her down the stairs.
He felt his throat go dry and had to swallow a couple of times to clear it enough to speak. ‘You look very beautiful, Emma,’ he said. ‘I have never seen a more stunning bride.’
‘I feel like a dreadful fraud,’ she said with a little downturn of her mouth.
He took her by the elbow and led her out to where his car and driver were waiting. ‘This is going to be the easy part. The priest tells us what to say and we say it. You have probably been to or seen enough weddings on television to know how to act. Just smile constantly and look adoringly at me.’
She gave him a surly look without responding.
He settled her into the limousine and took the seat beside her, holding her hand in his. ‘Stop frowning, Emma,’ he said. ‘Think about the money that is going to be in your bank account at the end of today. Surely that should bring a smile to any woman’s face.’
She turned her head away to look out of the window. ‘I can’t wait for this to be over,’ she said.
Rafaele felt the slight tremble of her fingers where they were resting against his. He gave her hand a little squeeze. ‘Do not worry, Emma, it soon will be.’
The ceremony was very traditional even if the bride and groom had arrived in the same car, Emma thought as she mechanically repeated her vows. Then the moment came when the priest instructed the groom to kiss his bride. Emma could feel the anticipation of the congregation as Rafaele gently lifted the veil off her face. Her breathing came to a jerky halt in her chest as his eyes locked on hers. Her heart began to thud as he brought his head down, his warm, mint-fresh breath caressing the surface of her lips before he pressed his against them in a kiss that went from feather-light to red-hot passion within a heartbeat. Sensation exploded inside her as his tongue slipped through the softly parted shield of her lips to mate with hers in a blatant act of possession that sent electric shivers up and down her spine. Her breasts tightened and tingled simultaneously, her legs trembling so much she could barely stand upright and would have melted in a pool at Rafaele’s feet if his hand hadn’t been pressed to the small of her back, holding her against his rock-hard body. She felt the stirring of his groin against her, making her even more acutely aware of the formal ties that now bound them.
When he finally lifted his mouth off hers, Emma gave a tremulous smile for the benefit of the congregation, or at least that was what she told herself at the time. Rafaele smiled back, a warm, generous smile that made his eyes go very dark and the lines about his mouth relax, making him look all the more irresistibly handsome.
After the register was signed Emma stood sipping a glass of champagne an hour or so later, smiling until her face ached as she was introduced to the various colleagues and friends Rafaele had invited at short notice. Numerous people raved about her dress, remarking how it had made the wedding all the more special to think she had worn it in honour of Rafaele’s much-loved mother.
One woman in particular, someone who had known Gabriela Fiorenza personally, came and spoke to Emma while Rafaele was engaged in a conversation elsewhere. ‘I am so very glad Rafaele has found someone like you,’ she said in heavily accented English. ‘He always said he would never fall in love and marry, but that is because he did not want to end up like his father. Valentino did not handle Gabriela’s death very well. He had been in love with her practically since childhood. And then losing poor Giovanni…’ The woman crossed herself. ‘God rest his soul.’
Emma wanted to ask what had happened to Rafaele’s younger brother, but realised it might appear strange if she did so. As his bride she would be expected to know everything there was to know about Rafaele and his family, but, she realised with an unnerving quiver deep inside her belly as she met his gaze across the room, she knew very little…
Once the official photographs were taken and the wedding cake cut, Rafaele led her out to the car where the driver transported them back to the villa.
He turned to her once they were inside. ‘I will leave you to get changed. It has been a long day. I will see to the electronic transfer of the funds I promised you, also I have some stocks and shares to look up on my computer, which may take some time, so if you will excuse me, I will say goodnight.’
‘Rafaele?’
His expression locked her out. ‘The money is yours, Emma,’ he said. ‘That is what you wanted, was it not?’
She rolled her lips together, her eyes falling away from his. ‘Yes…’ she said. ‘Yes, it is…’
‘I will see you in the morning.’
Emma lifted her gaze, but he was already striding away down the hall towards the study as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
Emma barely caught sight of Rafaele during the next couple of days. He came in late at night and left before she was up in the morning, which should have made her feel relieved but somehow didn’t.
She did, however, get some measure of comfort from transferring Simone the funds to clear away the debt. She even decided to come clean and tell her sister about her marriage to Rafaele in case it was reported in the press back in Melbourne. Simone was shocked and expressed her concern about Emma marrying a man she barely knew, but Emma tried to reassure her by pointing out Valentino Fiorenza would never have insisted on such a scheme if he had not trusted his son to do the right thing by her.
‘You’re not going to do something stupid like fall in love with this man, are you, Emma?’ Simone asked.
‘Of course not!’ Emma laughed off the suggestion but later, after she had ended the call, she wondered if she had tempted fate by being quite so adamant. She could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers and her belly gave a little twitch-like movement every time she thought of his tongue moving against hers.
The last thing she wanted to do was to develop feelings for Rafaele, but as she moved about the property she couldn’t help thinking what it must have been like for him and his younger brother growing up without a mother. Every time she walked through the villa or gardens she imagined two little bewildered boys wandering around the huge mansion and grounds without the comfort and nurture of their mother. In many ways it reminded