Di Cesare's Pregnant Mistress
Mills & Boon Modern Romance
May 2008
ISBN: 0263864274
Harlequin Presents
May 2008
ISBN: 0373127278
Pregnant mistress – convenient wedding?
When sexy, arrogant businessman Bruno Di Cesare hears that interior designer Tamsin Stewart has latched onto his elderly friend, he plans to dispatch this gold-digger pronto! But on meeting the striking blonde he’s intrigued – and he wants her. So he hires her to work on his Tuscan villa.
Honest and down-to-earth, Tamsin never thought she’d be swept away by an Italian billionaire. Still hurting after a painful divorce, she knows ruthless Bruno is not her Mr Right – yet she can’t resist him, and soon falls hard and fast. But just when Tamsin realises she must leave Bruno to save her heart, she discovers she’s pregnant…
Bruno was watching her, his dark eyes trailing over her in a lazy appraisal that ignited her temper and sent fire surging through her veins. Suddenly it was imperative that she spoke first.
‘It was rather juvenile to trick me into coming here, don’t you think?’ she said coolly, lifting her chin and meeting his gaze steadily, although her heart was jerking painfully beneath her ribs. ‘I’m sure your staff have better things to do with their time - as I do with mine.’ She turned on her heels and headed for the door. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
‘Sit down Tamsin.’ The command was softly spoken, but it was a command nevertheless, and she turned her head and glared at him.
‘Why?’
‘Because I haven’t given you my permission to leave,’ he drawled, still in that quiet, controlled voice that disturbed her more than if he had shouted.
‘I don’t need your permission, Bruno.’
His smile slashed his face, but it did not reach his eyes, Tamsin noted when he moved away from the window and strolled towards her. ‘I expect all my employees to carry out my requests without argument.’
‘Then I consider myself fortunate that I am not one of them.’
Nervous, but determined not to be cowed, Bruno acknowledged, feeling the faintest hint of admiration for her. His eyes raked her slender figure, noting how her slim fitting skirt hugged her hips and the cut of her jacket emphasised her tiny waist, while the top button was at a point that revealed a tempting but decorous amount of cleavage. Power dressing, smart and yet undeniably sexy - but she hadn’t known she was meeting him and she had dressed to please another man. Rage fired inside him, surprising him with its intensity, and the temptation to claim her sassy, scarlet glossed lips with his mouth and kiss her into submission was so strong that his muscles clenched.
‘Since I have decided to employ your services, bella, you are under my control – so sit while we discuss my requirements.’
The gleam in his eyes was unmistakable: raw, sexual hunger that made Tamsin tremble with a mixture of outrage and excitement that she tried desperately to deny. In what way did he want her services - and what exactly were his requirements? The connotation in his words sickened her – did he expect her to be his whore?
His mouth twitched with amusement as he read her mind, and Tamsin tightened her grip on her lap-top case and held it in front of her like a shield.
‘I’d sooner work for the devil, than you.’
‘Try my patience much more, and you’ll find him infinitely preferable.’ Bruno swung away from her, sat down on a sofa and indicated that she should join him. Something about his expression warned Tamsin that the only way she could retain any dignity was to comply and, taking a deep breath, she walked over to the sofa and perched as far away from him as possible.
‘This is my villa in Tuscany.’
She glanced down at the coffee table and saw several photographs strewn across it.
‘It is in the heart of the Chianti region, about an hour’s drive from Florence. The house was built in the seventeenth century and has been in my family for many years, but since my father died ten years ago it fell into a state of disrepair. Extensive structural work is now complete, and I wish to concentrate on the interior decoration so that I can use the villa as a weekend retreat.’
Bruno sat back and surveyed her coolly. ‘That’s where you come in. It’s an enormous project, but one that your brother assures me you are capable of. In our preliminary discussions he agreed that in order to devote all your attention to the Villa Rosala you will have to relocate to Italy until the work is complete.’
Relocate to Italy – with him! Tamsin shuddered and tore her gaze from the temptation of his wide, sensual mouth. She would rather relocate to the bowels of the earth. A number of responses came to her mind, but she opted for the most succinct.
‘You must be joking!’
His hard stare filled her with trepidation. ‘I assure you I’m not. And the amount I’m prepared to pay for your expertise isn’t a joke either.’ He paused and then added silkily, ‘At least your brother does not seem to think so. In fact I gained the impression when I spoke to him yesterday that he’s desperate to win this commission.’
‘When you spoke to him…’ Tamsin felt as though a net was closing around her, trapping her. ‘I assume you somehow persuaded Daniel to withhold your identity?’ she said bitterly.
‘I simply suggested that it would be good if you saw the photos of the villa without any pre-conceived ideas.
Tiny beads of sweat formed on Tamsin’s upper lip as desperation edged closer. She hated him. There was no doubt about that when she had spent every night for the past week cringing with mortification at the way she had melted in his arms, unaware that he had set out to deliberately seduce her. But although her mind was strong, her body was playing traitor and she was agonisingly aware of him. The subtle musk of his cologne filled her senses and the memory of his bronzed, naked, muscle packed body taunted her subconscious.
‘Spectrum employs two other interior designers besides me. Both are highly qualified and respected for their flair and innovation. And I’m sure they would jump at the chance of relocating to Tuscany,’ she added, her voice as dry as a desert.
‘But I want you Tamsin.’
The words hung in the air. Since the moment she had stepped into the room and faced him sexual tension had simmered between them. Now the atmosphere altered subtly, and Tamsin could hear her blood thundering in her ears as her breathing quickened.
‘No.’
She moved swiftly, but not fast enough. He caught hold of her shoulder as she jerked to her feet and hauled her back down onto his thighs. His hand moved to her nape, tugged her head back, and for a split second she stared into his eyes, shocked by the raw hunger in their depths, before he lowered his head and captured her mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss.
She fought him furiously. Her pride demanded that she keep her lips tightly closed and every muscle in her body locked in rejection, but he did not seem to care. His tongue probed with wicked intent, insisting that she open her mouth to him, while his hand moved upwards and his clever fingers dealt with the pins that secured her chignon. Her hair tumbled on her shoulders, soft as silk, and his low groan of approval quivered with such feral, sensual need that she could not fight him any more.
Sensing her capitulation he altered the tenure of the kiss, deepened it, and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth to explore her with an eroticism that drove everything but her desire for him from her mind. Her hands, which had been bunched into fists on his shoulders, uncurled and drifted around his neck but as she buried her fingers in his thick black hair he lifted his mouth from hers, set her back from him and with cool deliberation, gripped her arms and forced them into her lap.
‘Can I take it that you will offer no further objections to accepting my commission?’…