Read Online A Clash With Cannavaro by Elizabeth Power - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Power
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hadn’t even thought to ask where they were going.
CHAPTER FOUR
L OUNGING ON THE canopied terrace of his Caribbean retreat, looking out across the crescent of pink sand to the young woman and toddler paddling at the water’s edge, Emiliano couldn’t believe his luck.
He hadn’t expected Lauren to give in quite so easily when he had insisted that she accompany him here with Daniele—or Danny, as she insisted on calling him. But then, as she had pointed out so bluntly when he had first told her what he was proposing, he hadn’t really given her any choice. If he had, there was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn’t be down there on that beach right now. And after that moment when he had slipped the belt of her robe and he’d realised how much he could still affect her—how much she still affected him—it had suddenly become imperative that she should come.
His hooded eyes moved from the toddler standing with his arm outstretched, to the beautiful redhead in the pale blue bikini, which concealed very little of her perfect hourglass figure.
Her flaming hair was piled up in a way that emphasised her slender neck and back; her skin was already softly tanned because of the time she spent outdoors. He saw her bend down to the little boy and take whatever it was—probably a shell—he was offering her. Then she said something laughingly to him as she gently pushed his wind-blown hair back off his face.
* * *
They both wanted Daniele, Emiliano thought. But they couldn’t both have him—not without it being detrimental to the child’s wellbeing—and he could see Lauren and himself reaching a kind of impasse over it.
When he had gone to see her that first time over two weeks ago, he had thought it would be easy—that she would hand over his nephew with no questions asked if the price was right. What he hadn’t expected to find was a natural-living girl with a fierce set of values, far removed from the vamp he thought he had taken to bed in London, which had made him start to wonder whether he hadn’t been too hasty in judging her.
Her laughter drifted up to him with the toddler’s giggles as she pretended to chase him over the carpet of pink sand. Suddenly she swooped down and picked him up, and he squealed with delight, his dark head nuzzling into her throat, one tiny hand laid innocently against a breast that was almost spilling out of its cup from the energetic game they had been playing. Then she swung back to point out a speedboat on the glittering blue water and the sight of those lovely buttocks—bare, save for the tantalising blue string that separated them—had his throbbing anatomy sending him a loud and clear message. He needed to have her alone!
Minutes later she was chasing the squealing toddler over the beach again, but made a grab for him as they reached the steps to the pool terrace, climbing them with the child in her arms.
Between two huge pots of hibiscus flowers and a powdery scented oleander bush that was growing near the stone balustrade at the top of the steps, she put him down so that he could run to Emiliano.
‘Buongiorno, piccolo.’ It was the first time he had spoken to his nephew this morning, who was clinging to his cut-off jeans, grinning up at him with his baby-toothed smile.
Leaning forward, Emiliano snaked an arm around him and then, with both arms, lifted him laughingly into the air. ‘Has your aunt been making you run all the way up the beach?’ he asked the giggling Daniele. He turned an ear to the child’s face. ‘She has? Buon cielo! Shall I spank her or will you?’
‘Perhaps she doesn’t want to be spanked,’ Lauren contested, but there was a quiver in her voice, he noted, with that unmistakable flush colouring her cheeks.
‘Since when did punishment ever have anything to do with what one wants?’ he put to her with sensual teasing in his eyes.
‘Is that why you brought me here, Emiliano?’ she asked levelly, though he could sense the tension in her
CHAPTER FOUR
L OUNGING ON THE canopied terrace of his Caribbean retreat, looking out across the crescent of pink sand to the young woman and toddler paddling at the water’s edge, Emiliano couldn’t believe his luck.
He hadn’t expected Lauren to give in quite so easily when he had insisted that she accompany him here with Daniele—or Danny, as she insisted on calling him. But then, as she had pointed out so bluntly when he had first told her what he was proposing, he hadn’t really given her any choice. If he had, there was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn’t be down there on that beach right now. And after that moment when he had slipped the belt of her robe and he’d realised how much he could still affect her—how much she still affected him—it had suddenly become imperative that she should come.
His hooded eyes moved from the toddler standing with his arm outstretched, to the beautiful redhead in the pale blue bikini, which concealed very little of her perfect hourglass figure.
Her flaming hair was piled up in a way that emphasised her slender neck and back; her skin was already softly tanned because of the time she spent outdoors. He saw her bend down to the little boy and take whatever it was—probably a shell—he was offering her. Then she said something laughingly to him as she gently pushed his wind-blown hair back off his face.
* * *
They both wanted Daniele, Emiliano thought. But they couldn’t both have him—not without it being detrimental to the child’s wellbeing—and he could see Lauren and himself reaching a kind of impasse over it.
When he had gone to see her that first time over two weeks ago, he had thought it would be easy—that she would hand over his nephew with no questions asked if the price was right. What he hadn’t expected to find was a natural-living girl with a fierce set of values, far removed from the vamp he thought he had taken to bed in London, which had made him start to wonder whether he hadn’t been too hasty in judging her.
Her laughter drifted up to him with the toddler’s giggles as she pretended to chase him over the carpet of pink sand. Suddenly she swooped down and picked him up, and he squealed with delight, his dark head nuzzling into her throat, one tiny hand laid innocently against a breast that was almost spilling out of its cup from the energetic game they had been playing. Then she swung back to point out a speedboat on the glittering blue water and the sight of those lovely buttocks—bare, save for the tantalising blue string that separated them—had his throbbing anatomy sending him a loud and clear message. He needed to have her alone!
Minutes later she was chasing the squealing toddler over the beach again, but made a grab for him as they reached the steps to the pool terrace, climbing them with the child in her arms.
Between two huge pots of hibiscus flowers and a powdery scented oleander bush that was growing near the stone balustrade at the top of the steps, she put him down so that he could run to Emiliano.
‘Buongiorno, piccolo.’ It was the first time he had spoken to his nephew this morning, who was clinging to his cut-off jeans, grinning up at him with his baby-toothed smile.
Leaning forward, Emiliano snaked an arm around him and then, with both arms, lifted him laughingly into the air. ‘Has your aunt been making you run all the way up the beach?’ he asked the giggling Daniele. He turned an ear to the child’s face. ‘She has? Buon cielo! Shall I spank her or will you?’
‘Perhaps she doesn’t want to be spanked,’ Lauren contested, but there was a quiver in her voice, he noted, with that unmistakable flush colouring her cheeks.
‘Since when did punishment ever have anything to do with what one wants?’ he put to her with sensual teasing in his eyes.
‘Is that why you brought me here, Emiliano?’ she asked levelly, though he could sense the tension in her
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