Untouched Until Marriage (11 page)

He had sensed that Libby was an intensely sensual and passionate woman, and now he had proof, Raul mused as he lay lax on top of her, utterly sated and so amazingly relaxed that he felt boneless and strangely complete—as if he had been waiting for this moment, with this woman, all his life. She had spoiled him for other women, and he almost resented the hold she had over him. The idea of having sex with anyone else was repugnant—and as for her ever giving her body to another man! Fire burned in his gut and a murderous black rage swept through him. He would tear the man apart with his bare hands. Libby was
his
woman,
his
wife, and he would never let her go.

Inferno!
Where had that thought come from? he wondered impatiently. He had done the whole intense relationship thing once, and sworn that he would rather eat poison than repeat the miserable experience. Libby meant nothing to him. He viewed their marriage as a partnership based on their mutual desire to bring Gino up as part of a family—with astounding sex thrown in.

With that settled, Raul gently disengaged his body from Libby and saw that she had fallen asleep. She did not stir, simply snuggled up to him like a sleepy kitten, instinctively searching for warmth, her glorious hair spilling over the pillows and her long gold lashes fanning her velvet soft cheeks.

A partnership, he reminded himself firmly. Yes, she was very beautiful—even when she insisted on wearing all the colours of the rainbow at the same time. But he
had learned that the best recipe for a successful marriage was one that did not include messy emotions, and he would
not
be moved by the flame-haired siren who was sleeping peacefully, with her head resting on his chest and her cheek pressed against his heart.

 

The sound of Gino's gurgling laughter roused Libby from a deep sleep. She stirred and stretched luxuriantly, wakefulness alerting her to the feeling of slight tenderness between her thighs. But that was only to be expected after Raul had made love to her so passionately in the early hours of the morning. She turned her head, and her heart flipped when he strolled in off the balcony, holding Gino in his arms.

Every time she looked at him she was struck anew by how gorgeous he was, and this morning, wearing a pair of close-fitting faded jeans and a black polo shirt, he stole her breath. He was laughing as Gino vigorously explored his ear with a chubby finger, and his tender expression as he smiled at the baby filled Libby with despair. How could she not love him? she thought helplessly. He was impossibly handsome, sinfully sexy, and heartbreakingly gentle with the little boy he intended to adopt as his son.

She quickly sat up, struggling to bring her emotions under control, and two pairs of dark eyes fringed with ridiculously long black lashes immediately turned to her.

‘Buongiorno, cara.'
Raul's grin revealed a set of very white teeth which looked even more blinding in contrast to his olive gold skin. A lock of hair had fallen onto his
brow, and she remembered how she had threaded her fingers through its silky blackness and held his head to her breasts during their early-morning sex session.

She blushed at the sultry gleam in his eyes which told her that he was remembering it too. An elusive message passed between them that was gone before she could grasp it or understand it. But his gaze remained locked with hers, and her heart ached as it had done when he had made love to her a second time, with such surprising tenderness that afterwards tears had trickled from the corners of her eyes and he had gently kissed them away.

‘Gino's had his breakfast and a bath, and I've taken him for a stroll around the garden,' Raul informed her. ‘I think he'll be ready for a nap pretty soon.'

‘It's nearly midday,' Libby murmured after a horrified glance at the clock. ‘You should have woken me.'

‘Silvana was happy to take charge of him. I think she expected you to be tired after your wedding night.'

‘Oh, God!' Libby covered her scarlet cheeks with her hands. ‘What must she think?'

‘That you were worn out after a very energetic night with your new husband,' Raul said in a tone of extreme satisfaction. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to brush his mouth over hers in a lingering kiss that did not last nearly long enough. ‘I'm sure she will understand that you may need to lie in and recuperate most mornings from now on.'

His grin was impossible to resist. Libby's lips twitched. ‘You can take that insufferably smug smile off your face,
Signor
Carducci.'

‘Make me,
Signora
Carducci,' he challenged softly.

He was prevented from kissing her again by Gino, who had grown bored with not being the centre of attention and now butted his head against Raul's shoulder. ‘I'll take him to the nursery while you get up,' he said, getting to his feet and swinging Gino high in the air, much to the baby's delight. ‘Silvana will mind him for a few hours. I thought you might like to come sailing with me.'

Libby threw him a startled glance. In the days leading up to their marriage he had spent many hours with her and Gino, but she had been under no illusion: the focus of his attention had been the baby. Her heart skipped at the idea that he wanted to be alone with her. She would fly to the moon with him if he asked, but she must not seem too eager or he might guess that her feelings for him were much more than lust and platonic friendship.

‘Don't you have to work?' she queried.

True to his word, he had worked from his study rather than drive in to the Carducci Cosmetics offices in Rome each day, and on several occasions he had asked her to read through various documents and sign them. This had caused a certain amount of tension when she had questioned some of his proposals. Admittedly she hadn't really understood the finer details, but she could add up figures and was concerned by the level of risk in some of his ventures. To her surprise he hadn't argued with her, but simply filed the documents away, saying that perhaps she was right and he should be more cautious.

She hoped that her involvement in running CC would not create friction between them, she brooded. But all
thoughts of the company, and indeed anything else, were wiped from her mind when his mouth curved into a sensual smile.

‘Certainly not. This is our honeymoon,
cara
, and I think we should use the opportunity to get to know each other better. What do you think?'

I think I may have died and gone to heaven, Libby thought shakily. But somehow she managed a casual shrug. ‘Sailing sounds good to me.'

 

It was beautiful out on the lake. The sun shone brilliantly in a cloudless sky, and a little breeze tugged the sails of Raul's boat and sent it skimming across the water. Libby sat with her arm propped on the boat rail and stared down at the crystal clear water.

‘This is wonderful,' she murmured happily.

Raul was doing something with the sail. He had explained the technicalities of sailing to her, but she preferred to simply enjoy the scenery. The lake was a dense blue that reflected the sky, the green foliage of trees ringed the shore, and in the distance were the graceful turrets of the famous Odescalchi Castle.

‘Have you never sailed before?' he asked her.

‘I've never been on any sort of boat before—apart from a pedalo once. There's not much opportunity to mingle with the yachting fraternity at a South London comprehensive,' she said dryly. ‘When did
you
learn to sail?'

‘When I was a boy—Pietro taught me. I love the sense of freedom out here on the lake. It's where I come whenever I'm feeling tense.'

Libby digested this information and gave a faint frown. ‘Does that mean you're feeling tense now?'

‘Only certain areas of my anatomy,
cara
.' His eyes gleamed wickedly when Libby blushed, but she could not prevent herself from staring at the distinct bulge beneath his tight-fitting jeans. ‘Oh!'

Raul was still grinning when he brought the boat up to a little wooden jetty which ran out from a secluded beach at the edge of the lake. An attractive summerhouse sat close to the water's edge, and tall pine trees provided shade and privacy.

‘This land is all part of the Villa Giulietta's estate,' he explained to Libby. ‘You can only reach the summerhouse by boat, and no one ever comes here but me.'

‘A secret copse—how lovely,' she murmured, sternly telling herself that she must not read too much into the fact that he had brought her to his private hideaway. ‘The trees shield the house so well that I doubt anyone sailing past would even know it's here.'

Her heart missed a beat when Raul came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist.

‘Mmm… And as we are safe from prying eyes, there is no reason why I shouldn't do this,' he said softly, pushing her hair aside and trailing his lips up her neck before he nibbled her earlobe.

Tiny darts of pleasure shivered through Libby, and she made no effort to resist him when he tugged the straps of her sundress over her shoulders so that her breasts spilled into his hands. The feel of his warm palms cradling her naked flesh was intoxicating, and she gasped when he rolled her nipples between his fingers until they swelled into stiff peaks. Molten heat flooded between her legs, her desire for him instant and overwhelming. But even so she could not help feeling
stupidly shy when he pushed her dress down over her hips so that it pooled at her feet and she was left standing before him in just skimpy white lace knickers.

‘Raul…?'

‘No one can see us,' he assured her thickly. ‘I need you now,
cara
.'

His eyes blazed into hers as he pulled her pants down and slipped his hand between her thighs, and there was tenderness in his smile when he discovered the slick wetness of her arousal. He lifted her and carried her over to a patch of soft grass in the cool shade of the trees, stripping out of his clothes with flattering haste and coming down beside her to claim her mouth in a hungry kiss that demanded her eager response.

Fingers of sunlight filtered through the dense foliage of the trees and dappled their bodies. Libby could see tiny patches of blue sky between the green leaves, but as Raul lowered his head and suckled one taut nipple and then the other, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pleasure of his mouth. She bit her lip when he pushed her legs apart and flicked his tongue across her clitoris, back and forth, until she twisted her hips urgently, needing to feel him inside her. He was already massively aroused, but fascination made her bold, and she touched him, smiling at his swiftly indrawn breath when she closed her hand around the hard length of his erection and gently squeezed.

Raul withstood her ministrations for a few torturous minutes before he groaned and captured her hand, his breathing ragged as he fought to regain his self-control.

‘Enough, witch…' he muttered hoarsely, and eased into her, pausing while her muscles stretched to
accommodate him before he thrust deeper, again and again, in an age-old rhythm that quickly drove them to the edge.
‘Tesoro…'

The word was ripped from his throat as they climaxed simultaneously, Libby's vaginal muscles tightening and rippling around him, giving him the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced.

Afterwards, when they lay still joined, she wondered what the word meant, but she was afraid to ask in case she had imagined the closeness she sensed between them, the feeling that their souls as well as their bodies had merged.

A
FTER
that they went sailing regularly, and always stopped off at the hidden summerhouse. The glorious days of early summer slipped past, and before Libby knew it, it was June, and Gino's first birthday.

‘I can't believe he's walking and saying a few words,' she said softly, when she and Raul tucked the worn out little boy into his cot that evening.

‘He said Papa quite clearly when we lit the candle on his cake,' Raul said with undisguised pride in his voice. ‘Did you hear him?'

Libby gave him a mock frown. ‘I still think it sounded more like Mamma. Do you think he enjoyed his party?'

It had only been a small affair; the Vincentis had brought their two daughters, and several of Raul's other friends whom Libby had met at the dinner parties they had attended had also come with their children.

‘One year old already,' she murmured, the familiar surge of love flooding through her when she stared down at Gino's flushed cheeks and silky black curls. ‘I wish Mum could see him,' she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

Raul pulled her close. ‘She would be very proud of you for being such a wonderful mother to him,' he assured her gently, conscious of the curious tugging on his heart that had caught him unawares so often recently. ‘Don't cry,
cara
.' It tore him apart when she cried. ‘Come with me. I've got something to show you.'

Puzzled, Libby allowed him to lead her out of the nursery and up several flights of stairs. ‘We must be at the top of the tower,' she said breathlessly. ‘Where are we going, Raul?'

‘In here.' He pushed open a door and stood back for Libby to enter the room, grinning when her mouth opened in astonishment but no sound emerged. ‘It's your art studio,' he explained unnecessarily as she stared around—at the large easel set close to a window which overlooked the lake, the stack of blank canvases, the shelves containing paints and other equipment. The paintings Libby had left behind in Cornwall were arranged around the room, and she felt a little swell of pride as she studied them. They really weren't bad, she decided.

‘A friend of mine owns a gallery in Rome,' Raul told her as he joined her in front of a beach scene she had painted just before she had come to Italy. ‘I showed him some of your work and he's very keen to organise an exhibition. What do you think of the studio?' he asked, concerned by her lack of response to something that he had taken great pleasure in organising for her. ‘
Cara
, why are you crying? If you don't like it…'

‘I
do
like it—of course I do.' Libby sniffed inelegantly and gave him a blinding smile as she launched herself into his arms. ‘It's the nicest, most wonderful
thing anyone has ever done for me, and I love—' She stopped herself just in time and changed ‘you' to ‘it'. ‘Oh, Raul, I don't know how to thank you.'

‘I'll show you,
cara
,' he promised wolfishly. ‘There is a very good reason why I had a sofa put up here—as I am about to demonstrate.'

 

Was it tempting fate to admit that she was the happiest she had ever been in her life? Libby mused a few weeks later, as she got ready for a dinner party that she and Raul were to attend that evening. Life couldn't be more perfect. Gino was a gorgeous, energetic little boy who was happiest toddling around the gardens of the Villa Giulietta. Libby adored being with him, but she appreciated the couple of hours a day when Silvana took charge of him, leaving her free to go up to her studio and paint.

Raul continued to work from the villa, and only drove in to his office in Rome when absolutely necessary. She loved the fact that she could pop in to his study and see him whenever she could think of an excuse, and he often invited her to join him to discuss plans and proposals for Carducci Cosmetics.

But if the days were good, the nights were heaven, she mused, smiling when she stared at her flushed cheeks in the mirror and realised that there was no need to apply blusher. Her fears that the sizzling sexual chemistry between her and Raul would die out had proved unfounded. They could not get enough of one another, and their lovemaking was more passionate and intense than ever. She loved the way he made love to her, Libby thought, feeling her breasts grow heavy at the memory of how he had joined her in the bath the previous night.
It had taken ages to mop up the floor after they had caused a small tidal wave with the bathwater, she recalled with a smile.

‘Libby, we have to go.'

She turned as he entered the bedroom, and held her breath when he halted and studied her. ‘I thought I'd tone down the colour scheme for once,' she said doubtfully when he seemed to be struck dumb. ‘Do you think white is a bit, well…virginal?' When she'd tried the dress on she had thought that the simple white silk sheath overlaid with chiffon and decorated with tiny crystals on the bodice and narrow shoulder straps suited her, but now she wasn't so sure.

‘It's rather too late for virginal,
cara
.' His eyes gleamed wickedly, but his voice was curiously rough as he said, ‘You take my breath away.' He moved towards her and took something from his jacket pocket. ‘My mother often wore this to parties,' he explained, and Libby gasped when he held up a necklace of shimmering diamonds that sparkled brilliantly in the light. ‘The Carducci diamonds are a family heirloom.'

‘I can't wear it,' Libby protested in a panicky voice. ‘It must be worth a fortune. Suppose I lose it? Really,' she insisted, when he ignored her and fastened the necklace around her throat. ‘I'm not a jewellery person.'

‘I know,' Raul murmured dryly.

The only item of jewellery she wore was the plain gold band he had given her on their wedding day. On a recent trip to Rome he had taken her to an exclusive jewellers and tried to persuade her to choose a bracelet and perhaps matching earrings, but she had refused,
saying that there was no point in her having expensive jewellery when she spent most of her time playing in the sandpit with Gino.

Libby was so different from his first wife—from any other woman he had ever met. And to think he had accused her of being a gold-digger. He shuddered at the memory of how he had treated her when she had first arrived at the villa. His divorce from Dana had left him deeply cynical about relationships, but Libby had changed his attitude, changed
him
, and he wondered what had happened to his much vaunted idea of an emotionless marriage.

‘Wear the necklace tonight and allow me to show off my Carducci bride?' he requested softly.

And, as usual, Libby found that she could not refuse him.

 

‘
Zia
Carmina is looking forward to seeing you tonight,' Raul told Libby as he swung the Lamborghini onto the driveway of his aunt's house in a fashionable suburb of Rome.

Privately, Libby doubted that. On the previous two occasions when they had visited his aunt, Carmina had been polite to her in front of Raul, but cold and unfriendly the moment he was out of earshot. He was fond of his mother's sister, she reminded herself. And for that reason she was determined to try and get on with Carmina.

Raul's aunt greeted him with a kiss on each cheek, but she stiffened when Libby stepped towards her and her smile slipped. ‘I see you are wearing the Carducci diamonds,' she commented tightly.

‘Yes…' Libby hesitated. ‘Raul asked me to wear them.'

Carmina gave her a strange look. ‘Did he, indeed?' she said softly, and something in her tone sent a shiver down Libby's spine.

Dinner was an ordeal. Carmina was a patron of numerous charities, and a well-known figure among Rome's social elite, and Libby was sure she had deliberately invited guests who were either brilliant academics or stunningly beautiful models to emphasise Libby's lack of education and social graces. She felt hopelessly out of her depth as she struggled to join in the conversation around the table, and jealousy burned like corrosive acid in her stomach every time the gorgeous Italian television presenter sitting next to Raul leaned close to him and said something that made him laugh.

To her relief, coffee was served in the salon. She declined a cup when the waiter brought it round on a tray. For some reason she had gone right off coffee, the smell of it made her feel nauseous. Rather than watch Raul, who was still chatting to Miss Daytime TV, she wandered into the smaller sitting room next door to the salon—but immediately turned on her heel when she saw Carmina sitting on the sofa.

‘I'm sorry… I—'

‘Don't scurry away.' Raul's aunt gave her a cold smile, her eyes fixed on the necklace around Libby's throat. ‘I wouldn't read too much into Raul giving you the diamonds,' she advised harshly. ‘I had always hoped that one day
I
would wear the symbol of the Carducci bride,' she went on after a pause. ‘After Eleanora died I thought that Pietro would turn to me. Not immediately,
of course, but eventually. I loved him first, you see, before my sister had even met him. But when he saw Eleanora he chose her.'

‘I'm sorry,' Libby said again, not knowing what else she could say.

‘Pietro could have had me, but instead he chose a cheap little tart like you,' Carmina said bitterly.

‘Actually, he didn't.'

Clearly Raul had not told his aunt that she was not Gino's mother, and that she hadn't been Pietro's mistress. Libby did not feel that she owed Carmina an explanation, but she'd had enough of the older woman's foul accusations. She opened her mouth to speak, but Carmina ignored her.

‘And now you are a Carducci bride. I suppose you decided that losing control of your son's shares in Carducci Cosmetics was a small price to pay for becoming the wife of a billionaire?'

‘Pardon?' Libby frowned as she tried to make sense of Carmina's statement. ‘I don't know what you mean,' she mumbled, filled with a sudden sense of foreboding that made her heart thud painfully beneath her ribs.

There was a strangely triumphant expression in Carmina's eyes. ‘Surely you read Pietro's will? It quite clearly states that if Gino's mother were to marry, his fifty percent share of CC would pass to Raul until the boy reaches adulthood. I had forgotten about the clause until I came across a copy of the will a few days ago, when I was tidying my bureau, and then everything made sense. Raul married you to claim full control of the company.'

The room swayed alarmingly, and Libby's legs suddenly seemed incapable of holding her. She sank down
onto a chair. ‘I did read the will,' she said shakily. But not properly, she thought, feeling sick, remembering how she been holding Gino when Raul had handed her the legal document. She had quickly skimmed down the first page and read the bit about Gino and his mother being able to live at the Villa Giulietta, but Gino had been squirming in her arms and she had handed the papers back because she'd been worried that the baby might tear them. It had all been so astounding and unexpected, and before she'd had time to blink Raul had whisked her off to Italy and she hadn't given the will another thought.

‘Perhaps you would like to refresh your memory?' Carmina said softly. ‘I was also a beneficiary of Pietro's estate—he bequeathed me some small items of jewellery—and I have a copy of the will here.' She crossed to the bureau, took some papers from the drawer, and dropped them in Libby's lap. ‘The clause at the bottom of the second page is the one you should be interested in.'

 

Afterwards, Libby did not know how she managed to keep herself together for the remainder of the evening. Raul found her on the terrace, took one look at her white face and demanded to know what was wrong with her. She mumbled that she had a headache, hating him for playing the role of concerned husband when she knew it was just an act. At the beginning of the evening she would have been fooled by the compassion in his dark eyes, but now she knew what a snake in the grass he was. He had married her to get control of Carducci Cosmetics.
The words of the clause in Pietro's will swirled round and round in her head, and she could not stifle a little moan of pain. ‘
Dio!
Why didn't you tell me your headache was so bad?' he demanded roughly.

‘I didn't like to interrupt you when you were having so much fun with the queen of the chat show,' Libby snapped.

‘Gianna Mancini's son was a year old last week, and we were swapping baby development news,' he said with a wry smile. ‘Her husband is away on business.' He paused, and then added quietly, ‘You must know I only have eyes for you,
piccola
.'

Her heart yearned for the tenderness in his voice to be real, but she knew his performance was worthy of an Oscar. She dared not meet his gaze, terrified that he would see the devastation in hers, and to her relief he left her to collect her shawl while he went to bid farewell to his aunt, then hurried her out to the car.

On the journey home she closed her eyes, to convince him that her headache was too severe for her to be able to talk. He could not know that it was not her head but her heart that felt as though it had been ripped open, leaving a raw, agonising wound that she feared was irreparable.

‘I'm going to check on Gino,' she muttered when they entered the villa, and hurried up the stairs before he had time to reply.

The baby was sleeping peacefully, his arms outstretched and the covers strewn about the cot as usual, where he had flung them off. Her desire to give Gino a father was the reason she had married Raul, she reminded herself—and knew she was lying. For her it had
been love at first sight. She had fallen for Raul from the moment he had stormed into her life, had been drawn to him by a force beyond her control.

Gino loved him too, she acknowledged, tears slipping silently down her face when she pictured how the baby's face lit up whenever he saw Raul. Gullible fool that she was, she had swallowed Raul's story that he wanted to adopt Pietro's son and be a devoted father to him, but now she wondered if Raul had lavished attention on Gino as part of his cold-hearted plan to persuade her to marry him and thereby gain full control of the company.