Untouched Until Marriage Read online

  Libby stared at him, watching how the lamplight flickered over the hard planes of his face. A hard knot of anger was slowly forming inside her at the realisation that he hadn’t insisted on rushing her and Gino to Italy because he was concerned about the baby living in the damp flat in Pennmar. No, all Raul cared about was Carducci Cosmetics—which, to his obvious anger, he now had to share control of with her until Gino was eighteen.

  ‘I wonder why Pietro didn’t give you control of Gino’s shares?’ she said slowly. ‘Maybe he didn’t trust that you would look after Gino’s interests properly?’

  Rage coursed through Raul’s veins like red-hot lava flow, obliterating every other thought but the burning need to force an apology from Libby for her outrageous statement. ‘You dare suggest my father did not trust me?’ he snarled, hating her at that moment for echoing the doubts he had secretly harboured since he had read Pietro’s will. Maybe she was right; maybe his adoptive father hadn’t trusted him enough to award him control of Gino’s share of the company. The thought tore at his heart, and anger was the only way he could deal with the pain. His nostrils flared with the effort of containing his fury—not just with Libby, but with himself and his shameful, shocking desire for her.

  She had gone too far, Libby realised when she risked a glance at Raul’s face and saw that his dark eyes were as cold and hard as polished jet. But she wanted the truth. ‘Pietro must have had his reasons for stipulating that Gino’s mother should control his share of Carducci Cosmetics,’ she insisted. And if Pietro had had his doubts about his adopted son’s trustworthiness, then so did she.

  Raul jerked his head back as if she had slapped him. ‘Dio, someone needs to teach you to control your insolent tongue,’ he growled, goaded beyond bearing.

  He moved towards her with the speed of a panther homing in for the kill. Too late Libby realised that he intended the ‘someone’ to be him, but he had already tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back, and her startled cry was lost beneath the pressure of his mouth as he captured her lips in a savage kiss.

  Chapter Four

  LIBBY stiffened; her body taut with rejection as Raul gripped her shoulder and dragged her against him. Shock quickly turned to outrage, and she pressed her lips tightly together and tried to turn her head away. But his strength easily outmatched hers and he tugged her hair, forcing her head back so that he could continue his sensual assault.

  For the slide of his lips over hers was wickedly sensual, she acknowledged dazedly. It did not matter that she disliked him, or that he clearly despised her. She had fantasised about him kissing her from the moment he had strode into Nature’s Way, and the reality of his hot, hungry mouth moving erotically over hers was so intoxicating that she was powerless to deny her response. His tongue probed the firm line of her lips, demanding access, until with a little gasp she opened her mouth and felt a thrill of wild excitement when he slid deep into her moist warmth and explored her with a thoroughness that made her tremble.

  Each of her senses was acutely alive, and the taste of him, the scent of him—a tantalising mixture of his cologne and male pheromones—sent fire coursing through her veins. The urge to flee from him was replaced by another instinct: to submit to his superior strength and respond to his hungry demands with a passion she had not known herself capable of. She had never felt like this before—not even with Miles, whom she’d had such a crush on. With one kiss Raul had awoken her sensuality, and now she was eager to experience everything he offered.

  She had placed her palms flat on his chest in an effort to push him away, but now she slid her hands up to his shoulders, allowing him to draw her closer. She could feel every sinew and muscle of his thighs and abdomen, and heat pooled between her legs when she felt the hard ridge of his arousal nudge against her pelvis.

  His free hand roamed up and down her back, slid over her shoulder and traced the fragile line of her collarbone before moving lower to cup her breast. A quiver of pleasure shot through Libby. Her breasts felt heavy, and her nipples were taut and tingling, straining against the restriction of her lacy bra. She wished he would push his hand beneath the material and stroke her naked flesh. Colour scorched her cheeks at the wantonness of her thoughts, but he was still kissing her with the mastery of a sorcerer, evoking a need in her that caused her to move her body sinuously against his in a blatant invitation.

  And then, with shocking abruptness, he ended the kiss and lifted his head to stare down at her for several taut seconds before he jerked away from her, breathing hard. Libby swayed slightly, shaking with reaction and feeling bereft now that his big, hard body was no longer melded to her softer curves.

  ‘That should not have happened,’ he said harshly.

  His voice was laced with self-loathing, and Libby was sure she would see contempt for her in his midnight-dark gaze. Instead his eyes glittered with a feverish hunger that stunned her with its intensity. Raul wanted her. He might hate himself, but for a few unguarded seconds he had been unable to disguise his desire for her.

  He had gathered up the sheaf of documents and shoved them back in the briefcase, and was now striding across the room. If he moved any faster he would be running out of the door, she thought, staring in astonishment at the dull colour that highlighted his magnificent cheekbones. She blushed as she recalled how eagerly she had responded to him. Maybe he was afraid she was going to jump on him and drag him back? She remembered the hungry gleam she had seen in his eyes before his thick black lashes had swept down and concealed his thoughts, and it struck her that maybe he was afraid of himself.

  Raul grabbed the door handle and jerked the door open with such force that it groaned on its hinges. He was furious with himself—disgusted. Inferno! Libby had been his father’s mistress and he did not understand how he could want her. He had kissed her in anger, wanting to punish her for suggesting that Pietro had not trusted him. But the punishment had backfired, because from the moment his mouth had claimed her soft, moist lips he had been consumed with a burning need to possess her.

  He halted on his way out of the door and glanced back at her, heat searing his insides when he saw that her lips were red and swollen and unutterably tempting. She was a witch, he thought broodingly. A beautiful milky-skinned, doe-eyed sorceress who had ensnared his father—but from now on he would guard himself against her magic.

  ‘I have a prior engagement tonight,’ he said coldly, ‘and as my aunt has informed me that she is feeling unwell and will not be joining you for dinner I have arranged for your evening meal to be served to you up here in your suite.’ He paused, and when she made no reply continued, ‘I have called a meeting of all Carducci Cosmetics’ senior executives for midday tomorrow. We’ll leave for Rome soon after breakfast as I have a number of things to attend to in the office before the meeting. Silvana will look after Gino.’

  Libby bit her lip. ‘How long will we be away? I don’t want to leave him for too long.’

  ‘I imagine the meeting will last for most of the afternoon. There are numerous urgent matters to discuss,’ Raul told her with barely concealed impatience, thinking of the months that CC had stagnated while he had searched for his father’s mistress. ‘We have also been invited to a business dinner in the evening.’ He shrugged when Libby frowned. ‘Attending these sorts of events is a necessary part of running a company. Social networking is a vital avenue of business.’

  He paused and then said smoothly, ‘Of course there is a way that you could devote all your time to Gino, and perhaps have time to take up your painting again.’

  Libby gave him a puzzled look. ‘How?’

  ‘You could sign over control of Gino’s shares to me.’ Raul spoke savagely when Libby immediately shook her head. ‘Dio! I have spent most of my life preparing to take my father’s place as head of CC. Pietro erred on the side of caution, but I have plans for the company that will make it a world leader in the twenty-first century.’

  ‘Maybe your father wished you were more cautious,’ Libby said slowly. ‘Maybe he was worried that you would take too many risks with Carducci Cosmetics, and that’s why he stipulated that Gino’s mother should have control of his shares until he is an adult. I might not know much about running a company,’ she admitted, ‘but I’m not stupid. I understand that high risk can mean high returns, but I’m not prepared to gamble with Gino’s birthright, and I won’t agree to any business ventures that I feel are too risky.’

  Black rage swept through Raul. So the battle lines were drawn, he thought bitterly. The only subject he and his father had ever disagreed on was the future of Carducci Cosmetics. Pietro had been content for the company to follow a path of safe investments and carefully considered proposals, while he, Raul, had seen the potential for expansion and diversification. Admittedly they came with risks—but hadn’t he proved, by amassing his own personal fortune on the stock market, that his gambles always paid off?

  It was clear that his father had not trusted him. By awarding his mistress Gino’s shares Pietro had found a way to control Raul from beyond the grave. The only possible solution, Raul realised, lay in the clause Pietro had added to his will stating that if Libby were to marry control of Gino’s shares would pass to him. A clause that she was unaware of, because back at her flat in Pennmar she had not bothered to read the will in its entirety, pointed out a little voice in his head.

  Madre di Dio! It was such an obvious solution and it would give him what he desired most in the world—complete control of the company he had been groomed to run since he was a boy. But marry his father’s mistress? It was absolutely out of the question, he assured himself firmly. The idea was inconceivable. He had experienced the delights of holy matrimony once, Raul thought sardonically, and had no intention of repeating the worst mistake of his life.

  Not even if the prize was the thing he desired most in the world? his mind taunted. Not even if it would give him full control of CC and the opportunity to bed a woman who sent his libido into orbit every time he set eyes on her?

  He did not envisage any difficulties in persuading Libby to be his wife. She had been willing to have an affair with an elderly billionaire and was not likely to turn down marriage to Pietro’s other heir. And of course he would instruct his lawyers to draw up a pre-nup as watertight as a submarine, so that he could divorce her when he tired of her.

  He stared across the room at Libby and desire jack-knifed in his gut when he remembered how firm and yet deliciously soft her breast had felt in his hand. He wanted to rip off her clingy top, and the bra he could see outlined beneath it, and cup her naked flesh in his palms, stroke his fingers across her nipples and feel them harden. The chemistry between them was almost tangible. He knew with a primitive instinct that she would not stop him if he carried her into the bedroom and made love to her.

  He was unbearably tempted, and it took all his will-power to force himself to step out of her room and close the door behind him. If he married her he could enjoy her delectable body and take control of CC. The idea was certainly worth serious consideration.

  For several moments after Raul had gone Libby stood with her fingers pressed against her bruised mouth, still reeling from his kiss. How could she have responded to him so shamelessly? she berated herself disgustedly. His aunt had accused her of being a whore, and after her wanton behaviour Raul must surely agree with Carmina.

  Sudden tears filled her eyes and she sank down onto the sofa and buried her head in her hands. For weeks Gino had woken her every few hours during the night with his cough, and she was so tired she could barely think straight. Today so much had happened in the space of a few short hours that her life seemed scarily out of her control. Raul had stormed into her life with the force of a tornado, but she had agreed to bring Gino to Italy because more than anything she wanted him to have the stability and security that had been lacking in her own childhood.

  She had been unprepared for the violent sexual attraction between her and Raul. She knew she was ridiculously inexperienced for a woman of twenty-two—witnessing her mother’s disastrous love-life had put her off dating and Miles had been her only serious relationship. But Miles had never made her feel the way Raul had done when he had kissed her.

  She could still taste him. She traced her mouth with her fingertips and heat flooded through her when she remembered how he had ground his lips against hers and demanded a response that she had been powerless to deny. For a few seconds she indulged in the fantasy of him kissing her and caressing her, stripping her clothes from her body and pulling her down onto a bed…

  Her eyes flew wide-open. That was never going to happen. She could never allow the fantasy to become reality, because Raul believed she was Gino’s mother and she could not risk him discovering that she was a virgin. From now on she must ignore the sexual chemistry between them and hope that in the vastness of the Villa Giulietta their paths would not cross very often.

  She glanced around the elegant sitting room which, like the bedroom beyond it, was decorated in muted shades and simply begged for splashes of colour to make it feel more homely. The prospect of eating dinner here alone was not inviting, but it was preferable to dining with Raul’s unpleasant aunt.

  She wondered where Raul would be spending the evening. With his mistress, perhaps? With his stunning looks and potent virility it was likely that he had numerous lovers. But his personal life was none of her business, she reminded herself, irritated because she could not get the image of him making love to some gorgeous woman out of her mind. Forget about Raul Carducci, she told herself. The only person who mattered to her was Gino who was asleep in his airy, dry nursery. She had done the right thing by bringing him to live in this beautiful house, and with her mind settled she went to check on him.

  The following morning Raul’s Lamborghini sped along the roads so fast that the fields and olive groves flashed past in a blur. Libby lifted her eyes from his tanned hands on the steering wheel to his hard profile, and sighed. He had not spoken to her since she had emerged from her bedroom dressed for their trip to Rome, but his silence as he had studied her appearance had thrummed with disapproval.

  She did not know what he had expected her to wear, she thought irritably. She didn’t own designer suits, or anything remotely suitable for a business meeting. Okay, so her denim mini-skirt was short, but it was perfectly respectable when she was wearing cropped leggings beneath it. Her cerise and purple top was admittedly pretty eye-catching, but the pink matched the colour of her flip-flops, and in an effort to look more elegant she had piled her hair on top of her head and tied the knot with a purple scarf.

  But in comparison to Raul’s superbly tailored char-coal-grey suit, navy blue silk shirt and grey tie she probably looked a mess, Libby conceded. He looked every inch a suave, billionaire businessman, and he was so drop-dead sexy her stomach lurched every time he changed gear and his hand brushed against her thigh.

  Desperate to do something to break her intense awareness of him, she rooted around in her denim haversack for the tube of mint sweets she usually carried with her, and eventually unearthed an old packet of chewing gum. ‘Would you like some?’ She offered the packet to Raul.

  ‘You chew gum?’

  His expression of distaste was almost comical, but Libby flushed, acutely aware of the gaping chasm that separated their two worlds. Presumably the glamorous women he socialised with did not chew gum.

  ‘It’s not like I take heroin,’ she muttered, stuffing the packet back in her bag. ‘It’s just sugar-free gum.’ She shook her head disgustedly. ‘Do you ever lighten up?’

  Raul took his eyes from the road for a second and awarded her a sardonic glance. ‘If by “lighten up” you mean do I ever dress like a circus clown, then the answer is no.’

  ‘I am not dressed like a circus clown.’ Libby breathed fire. ‘I simply like to wear bright colours.

  ‘I’d noticed,’ he said dryly.

  ‘Well, it’s better than being an old fogey. I bet you go to bed wearing a suit.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I always sleep naked.’

  ‘Oh.’ Libby made a choking noise which she quickly tried to disguise as a cough, blushing furiously as an image of Raul—stark naked and reclining on satin sheets—filled her mind.

  It was a long time since he had seen a woman blush, Raul mused. But Libby’s air of innocence must be an act, he reminded himself, his mouth tightening as he tried to dismiss the recurring image of her and his father as lovers. ‘I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this,’ he murmured, ‘but what is an old fogey? It is not a term I am familiar with.’

  ‘Someone like my old headmaster,’ she replied without hesitation. ‘Stuffy, pompous, strait-laced…’

  ‘You didn’t like him, I take it?’ Raul murmured, frowning at the idea that Libby saw him in the same unflattering light as her old schoolmaster. Why should he care what she thought of him? he asked himself impatiently. But her opinion of him rankled. Presumably she hadn’t thought him stuffy and strait-laced when she had responded to him so enthusiastically last night.

  ‘Mr Mills didn’t like me.’ Libby’s voice broke into his thoughts. ‘He accused me of being a rebel, and told me I wouldn’t pass any of my exams. But I proved him wrong,’ she said in a satisfied tone. ‘I passed art.’

  ‘Just art?’ Raul had benefited from an excellent private education at one of Rome’s top schools, and gone on to gain a Masters degree in business at Harvard. He could not hide his shock at Libby’s lack of qualifications. How was he supposed to share the running of Carducci Cosmetics, which had a seven billion pound annual turnover, with a girl who was barely out of her teens and had a single qualification—in art?

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