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Authors: Susan Stephens

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #General

Under the Italian's Command (18 page)

BOOK: Under the Italian's Command
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‘What do you think?’ Lorenzo demanded, throwing her down onto the bed.

 

‘I think you’d better show me.’

 

‘My pleasure,’ he said.

 

‘Mine,’
Carly
argued with a gasp.

 

‘You have a real talent for making me forget everything,’ she said much later, turning her head on the pillows to look at Lorenzo.

 

‘I’ve had years of practice in court—but I haven’t succeeded in making you forget everything, have I,
Carly
?’

 

She sighed as he stroked her breasts.

 

‘There’s still all this hurt inside you…’

 

‘Hurt?’ Capturing his hand, she held it in place. ‘If you mean that visit home, I’m over it. I’m made of stronger stuff than you seem to think.’ His face assumed the masklike quality she
recognised
from court. ‘I can’t thank you enough for flying me up there.’

 

‘You don’t need to thank me.’

 

‘And I’m not hurting,’ she assured him.

 

He had only done what anyone with the means would do for someone they loved. Had no one ever made a gesture to
Carly
before that wasn’t connected to the advancement of her career? Perhaps her father and sister were frightened to. The treats and surprises his parents had heaped on him made him
realise
how lucky he’d been and he wanted that for
Carly
. ‘Let’s get up and take a shower,’ he suggested, ‘and then we’ll open our Christmas presents.’

 

‘Presents plural?’ she said, already sounding worried. ‘But I only got you one—’ Her cheeks reddened.

 

‘You’re my present; the only present I want.’ He would drum that guilt out of her however long it took. He raced her to the shower, giving her a head start, and she shrieked with excitement as he closed in. Her eyes were already darkening in anticipation as he shut the doors. She was in his arms with her legs locked around his waist before the water had turned warm, and this time her shrieks came fast and furious and had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.

 

‘And you call me insatiable,’ he said.

 

‘The more I get, the more I want,’ she admitted.

 

‘Love can do that to you,’ he said.

 

‘Love…’

 

‘Don’t tell me you’re just using me for sex,’ he teased her.

 

Her anxiety dissolved into a cheeky smile. ‘Now there’s an idea…’

 

 

 

It was some time before they emerged from the bathroom swaddled in warmed
towelling
robes. He had to carry
Carly
, because his spare robe was far too big for her. He had to carry her anyway, because he wanted to. ‘We’ll get dressed, and then have presents,’ he said, ignoring her complaint. If they didn’t get dressed soon, Christmas would never happen. ‘And if we don’t hurry up we’ll miss supper—’

 

‘Supper out on Christmas Day?’

 

‘A friend of mine has opened a restaurant. It’s open, and he’s saving us a table.’

 

‘You were pretty confident I’d come back here with you.’

 

‘You should know from court I always plan ahead.’ He dipped his head to look her in the eyes. ‘And I never doubted it…’

 

 

 

Carly
gulped when she saw how many carrier bags Lorenzo had hidden behind the sofa. ‘These can’t all be for me!’

 

‘I wasn’t hanging around to edit the contents. Half an hour in that place was enough for me.’

 

Lorenzo shopping? Now she understood. ‘So where do I start?’

 

‘With the underwear—that’s usual, isn’t it?’

 

The ribbon-trimmed box from her
favourite
store was unmistakable, the contents racier and more expensive than she would ever have dared choose. Plus Lorenzo seemed to have taken one of everything—in pink, in aquamarine, and in…gulp!

 

‘For when you’re feeling frisky. Shall we move on to the outer casing?’

 

Which just happened to be the softest cashmere dress in pale caramel, which he’d teamed with knee-high suede boots in a slightly darker shade. The heels could most safely be described in polite society as wicked in the extreme. ‘Oh, Lorenzo, they’re fabulous,’
Carly
exclaimed, trying them on.

 

‘And there’s a jacket.’ He angled his chin towards the remaining carrier bag.

 

‘You shouldn’t have bought me all this. It must have cost you a fortune.’

 

‘Won’t you try it on?’

 

Carly
was speechless. She had never bought clothes of this quality for herself.

 

‘If you don’t like anything you can change it. I won’t be offended,’ Lorenzo assured her.

 

‘I don’t want to change a thing,’ she said, finding her voice. Everything was just perfect, and in the classic styles with a quirky edge she looked almost fashionable.

 

‘You’d look beautiful in a sack,’ Lorenzo argued.

 

‘If you don’t mind I’ll pass on the sack and stick with the clothes you bought me.’ She leaned back against him and sighed. ‘Honestly, Lorenzo, I don’t know what to say…I’m overwhelmed.’

 

‘Say you’re happy; say you believe me when I tell you you’re beautiful…’ Clasping her shoulders in his warm hands, he nuzzled her hair out of the way and planted a kiss on her neck.

 

‘But—’

 

‘No buts…’ Turning her to face him, he silenced any remaining doubts she might have had with a kiss.

 

Lorenzo was wonderful, and she loved him with all her heart, but what would he say when she told him her dreams for the future?

 

‘You’re doing it again,’ he said.

 

‘What am I doing?’

 

‘Thinking too much…’ He looked at her seriously for a moment and then his lips tugged up. ‘Do I get my present now?’

 

He’d taken the parcel out of his mailbox and it was sitting on the coffee-table. ‘It’s nothing compared to all this,’ she said, gesturing around.

 

‘If you chose it I’ll love it, just as I love you…’ He kissed her hand as he spoke, and then, turning it, kissed her palm too.

 

He loved her. She would never get used to it. Did he love her? In her head her mother huffed.

 

Lorenzo ripped the paper off her gift and then sat staring at the book she’d bought him.

 

‘How did you know?’ he said at last. ‘How did you know that Frank
Frazetta
is one of my all-time
favourite
artists?’

 

‘Call it an educated guess.’ But it was more than that. Frank
Frazetta
was a famous American artist who drew fantasy heroes and larger-than-life battle scenes. He
idealised
the fight for right, and celebrated heroes and heroic principles, and in her opinion every one of Lorenzo’s dragon-slaying qualities existed between the pages of that book.

 

She looked over Lorenzo’s shoulder as he turned the pages depicting another man’s incredible flights of imagination. Some people might think the images off the wall, but
Frazetta
had been a student of anatomy, and was an impressive artist in every way. His work seemed a perfect match for Lorenzo. Wasn’t he off the wall with his austere front, his sensual nature, and his crazy-
coloured
socks?

 

‘It’s a perfect gift,’ he said in a way that made her heart clench.

 

But it was more than that for him, Lorenzo
realised
as he stared into
Carly’s
eyes. She had reached into his soul and plucked something out of there. In a way he wasn’t even surprised she’d bought him the book of illustrations; they were like two sides of the same coin. Frank
Frazetta
had been his late father’s
favourite
artist too. ‘While there are men like this around,’ he used to say, stabbing a work-worn finger at one of the illustrations, ‘everything will be okay. You gotta be like them, Lorenzo. In here…’ He’d thump his chest at that point. It was a regular Sunday night routine to prepare them both for the
rigours
of the week ahead—his at the private school, and his father at the meat factory where he worked to pay the fees.

 

‘Do you really like it?’ she said.

 

He
realised
Carly
must think him distant, when nothing could be further from the truth. ‘You have no idea what this little book means to me,’ he assured her.

 
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
 

‘I LOVE IT.’ Lorenzo put the book in pride of place on the coffee-table. ‘You couldn’t have bought me anything I’d like more.’

 

When he’d stopped kissing her
Carly
asked what time they had to be at the restaurant. ‘Soon, but first I want to know what you’ve decided about the future.’

 

‘You’ll think me silly…’

 

‘Try me…’

 

She gazed at his socks,
sombre
blue, decorated with the scales of justice. Somehow that made it harder to tell him, but she couldn’t put it off for ever. ‘Not law,’ she said.

 

She waited, but Lorenzo didn’t cut in as she had expected him to. ‘I’ve had a wonderful training and a wonderful time at chambers. And it’s all been worthwhile, because I wouldn’t have met you if I’d chosen another path. So I have a lot to thank my mother for…’

 

He let that one pass. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘What’s it to be?’

 

‘I’m going to be an event planner…’

 

Not, I want to be; I’m going to be. For once in his life he couldn’t keep his mask in position. He knew she would eventually realize what he’d wanted her to. ‘
Carly
, I’m delighted!’ He swept her into his arms.

 

‘You are?’

 

She looked amazed, but whatever the rest of the world thought of him he was a simple man with simple goals. He wanted to make a difference and raise a family, and to do that
Carly
had to be happy. What she’d just told him would finally bring her the sense of personal achievement that had proved so elusive in the past. ‘I know you’ll be fantastic. And if you get cards printed and circulate them amongst all the people who attended your Christmas party I’m sure you’ll be snowed under with enquiries.’

 

‘You really mean that, don’t you?’

 

‘I never say anything I don’t mean. Now, come on, or we’ll be late for Father Christmas—’

 

She shook her head. ‘Don’t tell me you’re a believer?’

 

‘Of course I am.’

 

As she laughed he made a silent pledge to fight each one of her demons in turn until there were no shadows left.

 

 

 

The restaurant Lorenzo took her to was a surprise. It was situated in something that looked more like an aircraft hangar than a glamorous eatery, and it was only when they walked inside and
Carly
smelled the food she
realised
why the huge space was packed out.

 

The smiling host had been waiting for them at the door, a man of similar age to Lorenzo, but with more dream than scheme in his dark blue eyes. He led the way for them through the tables.

 

‘Don’t be misled,’ Lorenzo whispered discreetly in
Carly’s
ear as they headed towards a generous-sized table overlooking the river. ‘
Tre’s
dreamy expression comes from his eternal quest for that coveted third Michelin star.’

 

‘Can you read all my thoughts?’
Carly
challenged him softly.

 

‘Most of them,’ he admitted. ‘That’s why I know we’ll make such a good team.’

 

She had to try very hard not to read anything into that. ‘This is really lovely,’ she said as Lorenzo attracted the attention of the wine waiter.

 

‘I thought it would make a nice change from Greasy Jo’s,’ he teased her.

 

‘Don’t remind me,’ she protested, laughing. ‘I’m never going to live that one down, am I?’

 

‘Never,’ Lorenzo assured her.

 

They both laughed.

 

He ordered champagne. ‘You’ll need a glass to toast Father Christmas,’ he explained. ‘And look…Here he is, right on cue…’

 

The celebrations allowed everyone to shed their inhibitions,
Carly
thought as Father Christmas wove his way through the tables; even she was excited.

 

The wine waiter filled her champagne flute to the brim, and reaching across the table, Lorenzo found her hand and linked their fingers together. ‘I just hope you like your gift.’

 

‘I’m sure I will.’ She had seen some of the other women opening packages that contained a beautiful orchid in a tiny glass vase. The men’s gifts appeared to be miniature tins of coffee beans, which she knew Lorenzo would love. ‘But mine’s different to everyone else’s gift.’ It was a lot smaller, and Lorenzo had a different gift too.

 

‘I get a personal gift from
Tre
because we’ve known each other so many years,’ he explained. ‘He can never resist his annual dig at my fashion sense.’

 

‘So you get socks?’
Carly
guessed.

 

‘That’s right,’ Lorenzo confirmed. ‘And what do you make of this one?’ he said as Father Christmas left the smaller gift in front of
Carly
.

 

‘Why would
Tre
buy me something when we don’t even know each other?’

 

‘Who said
Tre
bought it for you?’

 

‘You said—No, you didn’t,’
Carly
amended.

 

‘For a moment there I really thought all those years of legal training had been wasted,’ Lorenzo said dryly.

 

‘Can I open it?’

 

‘After me.’ He was already ripping the Christmas paper off his socks.

 

‘Reindeer socks with bells on?’
Carly
laughed. ‘At least I’ll hear you coming.’

 

‘Why don’t you open yours now?’

 

There was a tiny
jewellery
box beneath the Christmas paper. Possibilities raced through
Carly’s
mind—collar studs? This was embarrassing. She had only just told Lorenzo about her intention to leave law and now it looked as if he had bought her something she would use in court: collar studs, or cufflinks engraved with the crest of her inn of court, perhaps—they were very popular. ‘You shouldn’t have,’ she said awkwardly.

 

‘How do you know what it is until you open it?’ he pointed out.

 

Maybe it was a joke present. She went hot and cold at the thought that she might have made a fool of herself confessing her love for Lorenzo, just as her mother had predicted. But he’d said he loved her. He did love her. She firmed her resolve, and, pressing the catch, released the lid.

 

‘Well?’ Lorenzo said as she sat in silence. ‘What do you think?’

 

She wasn’t capable of thinking, or speaking, or anything else at the moment. She was too busy staring in disbelief at the biggest solitaire diamond she’d ever seen. ‘Is this thing real?’

 

‘No, it’s glass. I got it out of a cracker,’ Lorenzo observed dryly. ‘Now would you like to try it on?’

 

‘But what’s it for?’ All her brain cells had collided in a heap and the ring was firing all the
colours
of the rainbow at her, confusing the issue.

 

‘What’s it for?’ Lorenzo repeated. ‘Now, let me think…Maybe it’s a bonus for good
behaviour
? No—’ he shook his head ‘—you don’t deserve that. You’ve been extremely naughty over these past few days. For good work, then?’ His lips pressed down. ‘Well, that can’t be right, because you haven’t started your new job yet—’

 

‘Lorenzo!’

 


Carly
.’ Angling his head, he stared at her with exasperation. ‘For someone with so much brain power you have precious little common sense. Why can’t you just accept that I love you, and that I want to be with you for ever? I want to marry you. I want to buy you a diamond ring.’

 

‘And what Lorenzo wants Lorenzo gets?’
Carly’s
face started to relax into a smile.

 

‘Something like that,’ he admitted.

 

‘Are you sure it’s for me?’

 

‘Unless you have an invisible friend?’ He stared over her shoulder.

 

‘Lorenzo…’

 

‘Give the ring to me,’ he instructed.

 

She gave him the box with the ring still intact. She couldn’t believe such a fabulous piece of
jewellery
was destined to find its home on her finger. She was already braced for the punch-line and the laughter. If Lorenzo mentioned crackers one more time she would—

 

‘I’m surprised you can’t
recognise
a Tiffany box—’

 

‘A Tiffany box?’ she said. ‘Let me see that again…’

 

She held out her hand, but he just laughed. ‘I can see I have a lot of educating to do. Now hold out your hand, Ms Tate…’

 

The ring fitted perfectly.

 

‘Do you like it?’

 

Carly
studied the fabulous diamond on her wedding finger. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

 

‘Say you love me—say you’ll marry me…’

 

‘You do mean it, don’t you?’

 

Lorenzo took hold of her hand. ‘Don’t you know how much I love you yet? Don’t you know how much I want to marry you?’ His lips tugged up in a wicked grin. ‘Don’t you know how much I want to make babies with you? I thought I’d made at least that much clear. Seems I’ll have to put in a lot more time convincing you…’

 

‘I will marry you, Lorenzo—’ She broke off.

 

‘Are you all right?’ He was instantly concerned as she swayed a little in her seat.

 

‘It’s just the shock,’
Carly
explained. ‘I felt a little faint…’

 

‘Can you describe your feelings exactly?’ Lorenzo said, staring at her intently.

 

‘Lorenzo,’ she reminded him, ‘we’re not in court now.’

 

‘My mother felt strange every time, and she had seven of us.’

 

‘Your mother? Lorenzo, please, whatever’s wrong with me, it has nothing to do with whatever your mother suffered seven times.’

 

‘How can you be so sure?’

 

She looked at him and then at the ring. ‘Because anyone would faint with shock when they saw the size of this diamond.’

 

‘Oh, come now,
Carly
,’ Lorenzo argued dryly. ‘There isn’t a woman alive who would faint at the size of a diamond—unless it was tiny, of course.’

 
BOOK: Under the Italian's Command
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