Read Online Too Devious to Tame (The Giovanni Clan) by Doris O'Connor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Doris O'Connor
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that." She slapped a hand to her mouth and almost choked on her next words as a new possibility dawned on her. "Oh my God, Elise! Giorgio are they going to be after her?"
Her stomach heaved at the thought of her sister in danger. Dammit, why had she not thought of that before now? She hadn't changed at all, had she? Here she was only thinking of the danger to herself and Giorgio, when all this time her sister had been a sitting duck. She was her identical twin, for fuck's sake. They had swapped places all the time. Okay, she had always pretended to be Elise anyway. Had she not successfully fooled everyone before? What if they thought she was hiding as Elise again?
"Relax, cara , she's being watched by us, just in case. Nothing is going to happen to her or any of the Giovanni. Marco knows of the danger, and he's no fool. The rest of the family may not be involved in this, but they still have connections. And who would take on Mamma G?" He winked at her, and some of her anxiety fled.
Her lips twitched imagining the formidable head of the Giovanni Clan in full protective battle mode. She could bring full grown men to their knees with just one look. How effective that look would be against armed goons, she wasn't too sure, but Giorgio's tactic had worked.
"Oh, thank God." Jemima closed her eyes. Relief and gratitude warred with nervousness, as Giorgio pulled her closer, so close his breath raised the fine hair on her neck.
"Open your eyes, cara."
She swallowed at his closeness, wishing she had the guts to just lean in and kiss him, but something in his eyes stopped her. An urgency which took her breath away, while sending icy tendrils of uneasiness down her spine.
Movement outside her door made him flinch, and his voice was an urgent whisper in her ear.
"You and I, we're going to play a game, cara . And you best play it well, because your life depends on it. As my wife you're under my protection, but the Don doesn't trust you, so we will have to play this well and look convincing. Whatever happens, follow my lead."
And just as the door flung open, his mouth descended on hers, and Jemima stopped breathing altogether.
Chapter Eight
Flames licked across Jemima's skin, and her blood rushed through her veins like molten lava. Desire consumed her, every molecule of her set alight by the feel and smell of Giorgio. He groaned as he deepened the kiss. His hands fisted in her hair, and his tongue danced with hers, igniting a primal need so strong, all fear evaporated in the heat emanating from his firm lips.
"Giorgio, let the poor girl come up for air."
The coolly amused, female voice broke through the haze of Jemima's desire, and Giorgio froze. His hands tightened painfully in her hair before he released her. His breathing heavy, his eyes held a silent warning.
"I take it from that display that your wife has recovered?"
The dulcet tones held a definite edge to them this time, and Jemima risked a glance in the direction of all that censure. Intelligent blue eyes were assessing her, and the advert for Italian chic and understated middle-aged beauty angled her head, eyes narrowing, when her gaze roamed over Giorgio instead.
"You look like hell, boy. Be off with you, make yourself presentable, and leave your girl to me."
"I don't think so, Giada." Giorgio shook his head, and took one of Jemima's hands in his. "I already had this conversation. I'm not leaving her."
"You're no good to her like that either, boy. I'm not Luigi. You know I'm always on your side, but this is not helping her, or you."
Again that penetrating blue gaze rested on Jemima, and she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that the woman in front of them could see right through her. She recognized another Italian Mamma when she saw one, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, looking to Giorgio for reassurance.
"Giorgio? Who is this?"
Before he could respond Giada had crossed the distance to the bed Jemima was huddling on, and extended one
Her stomach heaved at the thought of her sister in danger. Dammit, why had she not thought of that before now? She hadn't changed at all, had she? Here she was only thinking of the danger to herself and Giorgio, when all this time her sister had been a sitting duck. She was her identical twin, for fuck's sake. They had swapped places all the time. Okay, she had always pretended to be Elise anyway. Had she not successfully fooled everyone before? What if they thought she was hiding as Elise again?
"Relax, cara , she's being watched by us, just in case. Nothing is going to happen to her or any of the Giovanni. Marco knows of the danger, and he's no fool. The rest of the family may not be involved in this, but they still have connections. And who would take on Mamma G?" He winked at her, and some of her anxiety fled.
Her lips twitched imagining the formidable head of the Giovanni Clan in full protective battle mode. She could bring full grown men to their knees with just one look. How effective that look would be against armed goons, she wasn't too sure, but Giorgio's tactic had worked.
"Oh, thank God." Jemima closed her eyes. Relief and gratitude warred with nervousness, as Giorgio pulled her closer, so close his breath raised the fine hair on her neck.
"Open your eyes, cara."
She swallowed at his closeness, wishing she had the guts to just lean in and kiss him, but something in his eyes stopped her. An urgency which took her breath away, while sending icy tendrils of uneasiness down her spine.
Movement outside her door made him flinch, and his voice was an urgent whisper in her ear.
"You and I, we're going to play a game, cara . And you best play it well, because your life depends on it. As my wife you're under my protection, but the Don doesn't trust you, so we will have to play this well and look convincing. Whatever happens, follow my lead."
And just as the door flung open, his mouth descended on hers, and Jemima stopped breathing altogether.
Chapter Eight
Flames licked across Jemima's skin, and her blood rushed through her veins like molten lava. Desire consumed her, every molecule of her set alight by the feel and smell of Giorgio. He groaned as he deepened the kiss. His hands fisted in her hair, and his tongue danced with hers, igniting a primal need so strong, all fear evaporated in the heat emanating from his firm lips.
"Giorgio, let the poor girl come up for air."
The coolly amused, female voice broke through the haze of Jemima's desire, and Giorgio froze. His hands tightened painfully in her hair before he released her. His breathing heavy, his eyes held a silent warning.
"I take it from that display that your wife has recovered?"
The dulcet tones held a definite edge to them this time, and Jemima risked a glance in the direction of all that censure. Intelligent blue eyes were assessing her, and the advert for Italian chic and understated middle-aged beauty angled her head, eyes narrowing, when her gaze roamed over Giorgio instead.
"You look like hell, boy. Be off with you, make yourself presentable, and leave your girl to me."
"I don't think so, Giada." Giorgio shook his head, and took one of Jemima's hands in his. "I already had this conversation. I'm not leaving her."
"You're no good to her like that either, boy. I'm not Luigi. You know I'm always on your side, but this is not helping her, or you."
Again that penetrating blue gaze rested on Jemima, and she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that the woman in front of them could see right through her. She recognized another Italian Mamma when she saw one, and she pulled her knees up to her chest, looking to Giorgio for reassurance.
"Giorgio? Who is this?"
Before he could respond Giada had crossed the distance to the bed Jemima was huddling on, and extended one
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