A Ring To Claim His Legacy. Rachael Thomas

      MARCO SILVIANO’S ATTENTION was completely captivated by the curvy blonde woman who had just ordered champagne for herself and her friend. Even her voice was incredibly sexy, and as for the bright blue dress which shimmered in the subdued light of the bar, intensifying his body’s reaction to her every luscious curve, it was nothing short of seductive.

      He called the bartender over with a subtle move of his hand. ‘Tell the ladies the champagne is with my compliments.’

      ‘Yes, sir. Who shall I say?’ the bartender asked.

      He was here at this luxury island resort, his latest addition to the Silviano Leisure Group, to ensure everything was being done exactly as he wanted it. Experience had taught him it was best not to reveal his true identity on arrival, but later, when he’d seen everything first-hand, just as a guest would.

      ‘Marco,’ he said casually, not offering his surname.

      He watched as the bartender passed on his message. The two women turned their attention from the messenger and looked towards him, but it was the gorgeous blonde who held his attention. Marco’s gaze locked with hers and something indescribable arced across the distance between them. He took in a deep, sharp breath of shock. That had never happened before. He’d never experienced a sensation that everything or everyone else in the world had ceased to exist except for the person he was looking at.

      He recovered himself quickly, reverting to his usual charm, and raised his glass to her. He was vaguely aware of her friend, raising her glass to him in thanks as she smiled and said something to the woman whose gaze was still locked with his. It was clear from the blonde’s expression that she was as shocked as he was at what had just passed between them. The friend disappeared from his vision. All he could see was the blonde, her long, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders and resting on full breasts, tantalisingly concealed and yet alluringly revealed by her low-cut dress.

      She smiled and raised her glass to him. It should have been an innocent gesture, but for some reason it was wildly erotic. Provocative. Heat surged to his groin and the promise his father and mother had all but forced out of him, to marry a nice girl and settle down, vanished like the setting sun.

      He was here, masquerading as a guest for a week. The perfect excuse to escape the demands of a family he’d never really felt he belonged to. So much had happened recently, prompting the repeated question of when he was going to get married that he’d been driven from the New York headquarters of the Silviano Leisure Group, abandoning CEO decisions and board meetings just to escape his family’s inquisition.

      His father’s recent heart attack had revealed huge family secrets, and all the times he’d tried and failed to live up to his father’s expectations had come back to haunt him. Each memory had sat there around him, taunting him from the past. On top of that were the constant reminders that he alone was expected to provide the next Silviano heir—and his father was very keen that it be a boy.

      His only sister, Bianca, had been dealt the unfair hand of not being able to have children, which now meant he was the only one who could provide the next Silviano heir to inherit all his grandfather had started when he’d emigrated from Italy to New York.

      Maybe a little flirtation with this blonde would be just what he needed to distract himself. After all, he wasn’t yet married, something he intended to avoid for as long as possible. His pulse leapt at the thought of indulging in some flirtation with this gorgeously curvy blonde. And why not? For one week he was far away from New York, far away from the pressures his family were putting on him. All too soon he would have to return to the reality of his life, but for now he had other far more important choices to make.

      He slid off the bar stool and made his way towards the women and as he got closer the blonde’s vivid blue eyes beckoned him flirtatiously, but the way she nervously bit at her lower lip almost knocked him off course. It was as if beneath the sexy flirting, she was not as used to the act as she wanted him to think. Could it be that the beauty of the island and being away from home was making her do things she wouldn’t normally do too? Or was it the undeniable attraction which had slashed through the warm night air as their eyes had first met? Either way it was an intoxicating cocktail. One he fully intended to sample to the full.

      ‘Thank you for the champagne,’ her friend said as she moved to stand behind the blonde woman, blatantly trying to force him and her friend together.

      ‘Yes, thank you.’ The soft lilt of the blonde’s voice was not something he’d expected. The hint of hesitation in it didn’t go with the bold and daring designer dress which showcased her curves to perfection, making him want to hold her close, feel her against him, then remove the blue silk and discover the pleasure her sexy body promised.

      ‘The pleasure is mine,’ he said as he leant on the bar, holding his glass of brandy, unable to do anything else but look into those eyes. It was like diving into the ocean and going down, deeper and deeper. He could almost feel the water on his body. He blinked. What was the matter with him? He’d spent too long in recent weeks with his sister, who always talked of him one day meeting the right woman, falling in love, and despite her own heartache reminding him of the son the family needed. Thankfully his father’s condition had meant that her constant remarks about the expectation that he would marry and produce the next Silviano heir had calmed as her attention became focused on their father. This he knew would be short-lived.

      The very notion of creating his own family was completely alien to him. Marco lived life in the fast lane, lived for the passion of a new affair. He didn’t want the comfort of family life when he’d failed miserably to fit into his. As for love, which his sister taunted him with, telling him one day it would get him, that was definitely a no-go area. After discovering his mother’s secret, the explanation as to why he’d never been able to gain his father’s love, he wanted nothing to do with love—of any kind. He’d had very little as a child, believing he wasn’t worthy of it. Now, as an adult, he had no intention of ever falling in love.

      The blonde smiled up at him and heat surged through him as he anticipated the thrill of a new chase. ‘This is Julie Masters and I’m Imogen...’ She paused for a moment as if not wanting to divulge her true identity, her eyes searching his face. ‘Just Imogen.’

      First-name terms. That suited him perfectly. ‘You look very beautiful tonight, just Imogen.’ He smiled at her, aware his charm was having its usual effect and the anticipation of the outcome was more powerful than he’d experienced for a long time. ‘I’m Marco.’

      Imogen’s eyelashes fluttered down briefly in a show of shyness that was at odds with the daring dress she wore, but when she looked back up her gaze was steady and firm.

      ‘Hello, Marco.’ Her voice had become breathy and very sexy, igniting the desire within him.

      ‘And are you two lovely ladies enjoying the island?’ he asked them both, in an attempt to cool the suddenly very hot atmosphere around them.

      ‘It’s absolutely amazing.’ Enthusiasm sprang from Imogen’s words. ‘We only arrived last night, but already I am completely in love with the place.’

      ‘It’s divine.’ Julie added her opinion then returned her attention to the champagne.

      He couldn’t hope for better feedback. Everything he’d seen since arriving this afternoon had pleased him, but to hear the island and his staff pleased his guests, the kind who could afford such luxurious surroundings, was far more satisfying. ‘Where are you and Julie from?’

      ‘London,’ Julie said so quickly it startled him. ‘Daddy told us to take some time away in the sunshine. So here we are.’

      ‘You’re sisters?’ Marco looked from the blonde-haired Imogen to dark-haired Julie.

      ‘Cousins,’ Imogen said as Julie laughed as if at some secret joke and he doubted they were cousins. He had the impression he was becoming embroiled in some kind of personal joke, but, so long as that involved him and Imogen exploring the attraction which had sparked between them, he didn’t care.

      Imogen