THEY were married four days later on the Friday, and Kelly, walking out of the registrar’s office with Gianfranco’s arm around her shoulders, was still reeling from the speed of it all.
‘Wait.’ Margaret, who had agreed with her brother Jim to be their witness, stopped them on the steps. ‘You have to have a photograph,’ she said, and raised her camera to her eye. ‘Say cheese.’
‘I’d rather say sex,’ Gianfranco whispered in Kelly’s ear, and brought a beaming smile to her face.
‘You are insatiable,’ Kelly chuckled a moment later, her blue eyes laughing up at him. The past few days they had made love morning, noon and night. In between, Gianfranco had organised everything. Kelly had resigned from her job, and her family home was up for sale with a local estate agent, Gianfranco insisting her home was going to be with him from now on.
The only thing Kelly had done herself was shop; she had bought a trousseau of sorts, given the limitations of her figure: lacy underwear and a couple of satin nightgowns, a few smart-casual clothes and one cocktail dress, plus the outfit she was wearing.
It was a winter-white cashmere dress, long-sleeved, with a softly curved bow-neck that revealed a hint of cleavage. The fine wool skimmed her figure, and flared ever so slightly from her knees almost to her feet. Elegant and ideal for a January day, it moulded her stomach, but Kelly didn’t mind. If famous film stars could reveal their bumps in the nude, she told herself, her small tummy was perfectly acceptable. Apart from her posy of yellow rosebuds, her only adornment was the diamond crucifix around her slender throat.
‘You look beautiful,’ Gianfranco told her as he helped her into the waiting car. ‘My wife,’ and he kissed her with a very self-satisfied grin on his handsome face.
Seated in the VIP lounge at the airport, Kelly glanced across at her very new husband. He was standing by the business desk, sending messages to heaven knew where, while they waited for their flight to be called for Rome. He made her heart leap with love. He looked so devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored dark navy three-piece suit, and brilliant white silk shirt. A lock of black hair fell forward over his broad brow, and she watched with some amusement as he gesticulated with one hand while talking on the telephone. In that moment it hit her how very Latin he was.
The briefest of frowns marred her smooth brow as for the first time she wondered how she would get on living in what was for her a foreign country, with Gianfranco and his family.
Kelly stood on the balcony later that day and gaped in awe at the view before her. The whole of Rome appeared spread out below. Two strong arms wrapped around her nonexistent waist, and a dark head bent and a warm mouth nuzzled her ear. ‘You like the view, cara?’
Like it? She loved it! She’d unpacked her suitcase while Gianfranco had made a few urgent business calls, then he’d given her a swift tour of the penthouse—the sitting room was comfortable but elegant, decorated in blue and gold, the furniture was a selection of tasteful antiques, while the master bedroom was a symphony in cream and dark rose and the other three bedrooms were just as elegant.
She turned slowly in the arms that held her, and beamed up into Gianfranco’s darkly handsome face. ‘The view is magnificent—the apartment is magnificent.’ Reaching a slender finger to his face, she added, ‘And you are magnificent.’ As she traced the outline of his sensuous lips with the pad of one finger, her blue eyes meshed with his. ‘Can we stay here forever?’
A long kiss later Gianfranco answered. ‘Not for ever, but for the next three days certainly. Then we must go to my country estate, and I will have to get back to work.’
‘Do you think your family will like me?’ Kelly voiced her fear. ‘Maybe you should have asked them to the wedding?’ Gianfranco bent his head, his lips brushing hers again, and she savoured the sweetness with the tip of her tongue as he grinned down into her luminous blue eyes.
‘They will love you, and there wasn’t time to ask them to the wedding. Anyway, you have already met Mother and Olivia, and they know why we married. Mother is arranging a reception for you in two weeks’ time to introduce you to everyone.’ Something about what he said disturbed her, but before she had time to think he added, ‘But right now I want to start the honeymoon.’ Bending down, he scooped her bodily into his arms, with an easy strength that made her lace her arms around his neck and nuzzle her lips against the pulse that beat in the strong column of his throat as he carried her through to the bedroom.
‘Do you have any idea how much I want you?’ Gianfranco asked roughly as he lowered her to her feet and speedily divested her of her clothes. ‘How much I ache for you?’ And his own clothes were removed.
Kelly’s heart raced at the sight of him. He was all-powerful, virile male, and the very air in the room seemed charged with an electric current of sensualism.
Gianfranco’s dark eyes roamed possessively over her naked form, the high, firm breasts, then lower to the growing swell of her stomach, and lower still to the soft curve of her hips and thighs.
Kelly proudly exulted in his scrutiny; this was her husband. Her own gaze swept over his wide shoulders, the mat of soft, dark hair on his broad chest descending in a fine line to brush out and cradle his sex. She heard the harsh intake of his breath and the sudden rise and fall of his chest, and tilted back her head to look up at him.
Gianfranco’s deep, dark eyes seemed to pierce her soul as he reached for her. ‘Kelly, my wife,’ he growled. ‘At last.’ He hauled her to him with a savage urgency that surprised her.
Her hands found his shoulders as his tongue plundered the tender interior of her mouth. He kissed her deep and long, his hard body burning against her, until her head swam and she could hardly breathe. Then he lifted her to the bed.
‘Gianfranco.’ Kelly surfaced long enough from the heady magic of his kiss to say his name.
‘Who else?’ he growled sexily. ‘You are mine now.’ He muttered something huskily in Italian before his mouth dipped down to capture one taut nipple and suckle her tender flesh with intense erotic delight that drove her wild with wanting.
In the long passion-filled hours that followed they fed off each other’s hunger to the point of exhaustion. Kelly thought Gianfranco had taught her all about love in the past few days, but he still surprised her.
‘You make me insatiable,’ Gianfranco rasped on a shuddering sigh as he reluctantly withdrew from the sleek heart of her and drew her gently into the hard curve of his body. ‘I must remember you are pregnant, and control myself.’
Kelly smiled. She had lost count of the times he had driven them both to the brink and over. ‘A bit late now, my love,’ she murmured sleepily, resting her head on the side of his chest, her long lashes falling down over her sapphire eyes. ‘But it is our wedding night.’ She whispered the words against his sweat-slicked skin, her body sated and exhausted.
A sound jerked her out of a deep sleep and, rolling over on the bed, she reached for Gianfranco and found only space. Hauling herself up into a sitting position, she blinked and looked around. Their holiday was obviously over.
The past three days had been the most marvellous of her life. Gianfranco had shown her Rome, the Colisseum, the Trevi fountain, where she’d thrown the obligatory coin, all the obvious tourist attractions, and a few not so obvious. There was the tiny church tucked away in a narrow street, with an altar screen of unbelievable beauty. A small restaurant with plastic tablecloths, serving the most mouth-watering food in Italy, according to her husband.
A sigh of sheer contentment was followed by her stomach’s rumbling. She was eating for two and they had missed dinner again last night. Slipping out of bed,