Modern Romance April 2015 Books 1-8. Annie West

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Название Modern Romance April 2015 Books 1-8
Автор произведения Annie West
Жанр Короткие любовные романы
Серия Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Издательство Короткие любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474031455



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      ‘You expect me to listen to this?’ Lizzie asked, beginning to rise from her seat, having heard enough of Serafina’s self-absorbed excuses.

      ‘No, don’t go,’ Serafina urged impatiently. ‘I’m sorry if I shocked you but I want you to understand that, right now, Cesare is set on punishing me for what I did to him almost ten years ago.’

      Involuntarily, Lizzie settled back in her seat. ‘Punishing you?’

      ‘What else could he have been doing when he married you? He married you to hurt me. Here I am, finally free and available and he marries you. What sense does that make?’

      ‘Has it occurred to you that maybe he’s over you and doesn’t want you back?’ Lizzie asked helplessly, provoked by the brunette’s conviction that she would always be Cesare’s most desirable option and reminding herself that she was supposed to be Cesare’s real wife and should be reacting accordingly to Serafina’s little spiel. ‘Your affair ended a long time ago.’

      ‘You never forget your first love,’ Serafina argued with ringing conviction. ‘He’s even living in the house we planned together.’

      ‘What house?’

      ‘The farmhouse. We first saw it as students. It was a wet night and we made love in the barn,’ Serafina admitted, a rapt look in her bright eyes as Lizzie hastily dropped her lashes to conceal her expression.

      Too much information, Lizzie was thinking anxiously, an odd pain clenching her down deep inside. She could not bear to think of Cesare making love with Serafina and could have happily tossed Serafina’s champagne into her sensually abstracted face. Serafina had married her older man for security and wealth while still loving and wanting Cesare. Lizzie did not think the brunette had any right to expect to turn the clock back or indeed any excuse to risk upsetting Cesare’s new wife with intimate and threatening images from the past she had once shared with him.

      ‘Even though I was already married to Matteo, Cesare still bought the farmhouse as soon as it came on the market,’ Serafina told her smugly. ‘Look across the valley in the evening from the pool terrace and you will see the Ruffini palazzo blazing with lights on the hillside. He wants me back, Lizzie, he’s simply too proud to admit it yet.’

      ‘I don’t think he would’ve married me if that was his intention,’ Lizzie commented in a deflated tone.

      ‘Oh, I guessed that he married you to get that stupid island back into the family,’ Serafina retorted with a wry little laugh and she shrugged. ‘I don’t care about that. Your marriage is temporary and I’ll be waiting when he decides to forgive me.’

      ‘Whatever,’ Lizzie mumbled, thrusting her chair back and rising. ‘You can hardly expect me to wish you luck with my husband and I really don’t understand why you wanted to talk to me in the first place.’

      ‘Because you can make things a lot easier for all three of us by quietly stepping back the minute Cesare admits that he wants his freedom back,’ the princess pointed out smoothly. ‘If it’s a question of money.’

      ‘No, I don’t need money and I can’t be bribed!’ Lizzie parried grittily, her cheeks reddening. ‘I wish I could say it was nice meeting you...but it would be a lie.’

      ‘You’re a farmer’s daughter with no education. Surely you don’t believe you have what it takes to hold a man like Cesare’s interest?’ Serafina fired back with a raised brow. ‘Cesare and I belong together.’

       CHAPTER NINE

      LIZZIE COMPRESSED HER LIPS, said nothing and walked back indoors.

      A pounding headache had developed at the base of her skull. How she got through what remained of the evening, she had no idea, but she smiled so much her mouth felt numb and she made polite conversation until she wanted to scream. She was angry with Cesare for ever loving a woman as selfish and grasping as Serafina. Serafina only wanted Cesare now because he had built up an empire worth billions. Nevertheless a few of her remarks stayed with Lizzie like a bruise that refused to heal.

      ‘You never forget your first love. He married you to hurt me. Cesare and I belong together.’

      And who was she to assume that that wasn’t true? Cesare had never dreamt of regaining the island of Lionos in the way his father and grandmother had. Never having seen it, he had never learned to care for it and could probably well afford to buy his own island should that have been his wish. Was it possible that Cesare had been willing to go through with marrying Lizzie because he had a stronger motive? A desire to punish Serafina for her betrayal all those years ago? Revenge? Certainly that was how the princess had interpreted his behaviour of getting married just at the point when she was finally free again. Exasperated by the pointless thoughts going round and round in her sore head, Lizzie tried to blank them out by acknowledging that she knew no more about what Cesare felt for Serafina than she knew about what he felt for herself.

      ‘You’ve scarcely spoken since we left the benefit,’ Cesare commented as the limo drew up outside the farmhouse. He had noticed that she had seemed unusually animated throughout the evening. That had proved a surprise when he had assumed she might feel the need to cling to him in such exclusive and high-powered company. When she failed to demonstrate any desire to cling, instead of being relieved he had felt strangely irked and could not explain why. He had always felt stifled by women who clung to him. He had always valued independence and spirit in a woman more than feminine weakness and soft words of flattery.

      Yet when the spirited and independent woman whom he had once loved had approached him at the benefit for a private word, he had been totally turned off by the experience, he acknowledged grimly.

      ‘I’m very tired,’ Lizzie said stiffly.

      Cesare followed her into the bedroom, unzipping her dress without being asked. Lizzie let the dress glide down to her feet, stepped out of it and, regal as a queen in her underwear, walked into the bathroom without turning her head even to look at him.

      He knew when he was getting the silent treatment. She was sulking and that was childish. He had never had any patience for sulks. He pulled a pair of jeans out of a drawer and stripped off his suit. Casually clad, he noted the beady little eyes watching him from below the canopy of the four-poster pet bed and surrendered. ‘Come on, Archie...time for something to eat...’

      Archie limped across the floor. The cast had been removed from his broken leg only the day before but Archie still thought he was a three-legged dog and had yet to trust the fourth leg to take his weight again. Cesare scooped the little dog up at the top of the stairs and carried him down to the kitchen where he maintained a one-way dialogue with Archie while feeding them both as he raided the fridge.

      Teeth gritted, Lizzie emerged from the bathroom to a frustratingly empty bedroom. She had decided that it was beyond cowardly not to ask Cesare why he hadn’t warned her that the benefit was being staged at his ex-girlfriend’s home. She had not been prepared for that confrontation and was convinced she would have made a more serious effort to look her very best had she known she would be meeting the gorgeous brunette. The problem was that she was jealous, she acknowledged ruefully, green and raw and hurting with ferocious jealousy. She looked out of the landing window at the dark silhouette of the old stone barn and her heart clenched as if it had been squeezed dry. Cesare had made love to Serafina there, love, not sex. He had loved Serafina, cared about her, wanted to marry her. Yet Serafina had turned her back on his love in favour of wealth and social status. Having achieved those staples, she now wanted Cesare back.

      Pulling a silky wrap on over a nightdress, Lizzie headed downstairs. Cesare was sprawled on a sofa in the airy living room. In worn jeans and an unbuttoned blue shirt, he was a long sleek bronzed figure and heartbreakingly beautiful. Her heart hammered out a responsive and nervous tattoo as she paused in the doorway.

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’