Making over the Billionaire (an Italian Connection Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (16 page)

Epilogue

Layla stepped onto the terrace of Giorgio’s villa, her high heels dangling from her fingers. It was nearly midnight after the first showing of her designs with the House of Borlenghi at
Alta Moda, Alta Roma
. The lights of Rome twinkled below and the moon was rising over the distant hills.

Next door, in the rental villa, a couple was swimming in the pool by candlelight, their soft laughter punctuated with slow kisses. A year ago she’d looked up from there to where she stood now, her heart filled with ambition and dreams. Little had she known then how full her life would become—married to Giorgio, lovingly embraced by his family, a workshop in Tina’s atelier, and the daily excitement of living in this beautiful, ancient city.

A balmy breeze caressed her cheeks and she smiled, hugging her secret close. Now that the hustle and bustle of fashion week was over she would be able to find spare moments to plan and prepare. She needed to find the right time to tell Giorgio…

He put his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her ear.

“Congratulations,
il mio amore
,” he said. “Tina just texted. Your first show was a runaway success. Orders are pouring in from all over Europe and America.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.” She pressed her hands over his and squeezed. “I’m so thrilled.” And relieved, too, that all her hard work had paid off, especially considering how Tina had risked so much for her. The enthusiastic reception for her designs was both humbling and inspiring.

“Come inside,
cara
,” he said, nipping at her earlobe. “I want to see one of your new lingerie designs on my favorite model. You can show me one of your burlesque routines. You look so hot when you bend over.”

“Not tonight, sweetie, sorry,” she murmured. She felt queasy and bending over made it worse.

“But you love dancing—almost as much as I love watching you.” He tugged her away from the terrace wall and guided her toward the open French doors. He added in a mock stern growl, “Do I have to use the handcuffs on you?”

“Ooh, not the handcuffs.” She pretended to be scared even as her body responded with tingling warmth to hot memories of being tied to the bedpost while he drove her to the heights of ecstasy with his hands, tongue, and hard, thick cock.

He pulled her into the bedroom, an elegant masculine room to which she’d gradually added her personal touch with pretty colors and delicate artwork. “What music would you like? I’ll put it on.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she stalled, moving across to a butter yellow, leather couch. She needed to tell him her news, but she was savoring the anticipation of his joy too much to rush it. “What do you think about Tina’s plans to expand into New York? She’s going to sell her collection through a boutique there.”

“I think it’s an excellent idea.” Giorgio moved to the music system and punched in a program. Soft, sexy music filled the mood-lit room. “Since she’s taken full control of the atelier, business has grown. I have to admit, I was wrong. I concentrated so much on the big picture that I couldn’t see how my sisters could contribute even more than they did before. Now that regular shipments of Borlenghi products are going to China, we couldn’t be doing better.”

“Next stop, world domination,” she teased.

“I’ve been looking at India,” he admitted as he removed his gold monogrammed cufflinks and placed them in the silver tray on the dresser. “No more business talk. You were going to give me a dance.”

“Have you asked Anna to book our vacation?” They were taking a trip to Seattle next month so she could see a few old friends, renew her contacts there, and show Giorgio her hometown. After that it was his birthday, and they were spending a week on the yacht.

“Months ago.” He stopped unbuttoning his shirt and planted his hands on the back of the couch on either side of her head. “Are you tired of dancing for me? Will you go back home and find you miss your old life in Seattle?”

She heard the trace of vulnerability in his voice, and her heart contracted that this strong, proud man whom thousands of people relied on and looked up to should need her that much. “No, not at all. Earlier I was looking at those people next door and thinking how far I’ve come and how much my life has changed for the better. I’m happy beyond my wildest dreams.”

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You got your contract in the end.”

“Yes, and I love my work. But what makes me most fulfilled is loving, and being loved by, you.” She smiled, remembering the first time they’d met, and stroked a hand down his chest through his partially open shirt. “I can’t believe I used to think you were so awful and macho. So uptight and controlling and stern…”

“Now you know how wrong you were,” he teased.

“I wasn’t wrong. You’ve changed,” she shot back with a smile. He still worked hard but now he took plenty of time off to relax. His adventurous streak had resurfaced, too, and his latest hobby was learning to fly a glider.

“Thanks to you.” The leather sighed as he sank onto the couch beside her and stroked her hair. “You were the jolt I needed to get my life back on track.”

She slid her arms around his neck and pressed kisses over his jaw and the corners of his mouth. “I’m so very happy. ”

“I’m happy, too; happier than I’ve been in many years.” His mouth captured hers in a prolonged kiss that became passionate. He caressed her breast, molding and squeezing. Her heart quickened, and her breathing became shallow. Then he eased back and added, his voice low and husky, “I’m looking forward to my birthday—and revisiting our grotto.”

“I’ve got an early present for you—a new lingerie design,” she said with a sultry smile.

“Is it sexy? I want to see you dance in it,” he growled, pulling her into his lap. He was hard beneath her thighs. “And then I want to take it off you.”

“I’ll dance, but something sedate.”

“Are you tired after your big night?” he said instantly contrite. “I’m so selfish. I want you so much and I can never get enough of you.”

“I am tired,” she admitted. She often was these days. Then she rose and went to her walk-in dressing room. “I’ll go change into something from a completely new line I’m working on. I hope you’re going to like it.”

He was pacing the plush cream carpet next to the king-size bed when she emerged in a pale pink, silk baby doll outfit with a high-legged bikini bottom and a low-cut, see-through top that billowed and floated as she swayed toward him. When she was a few feet away, she spun around, tugging back one side of the front to show off her bare abdomen. Would he notice the gentle swell that hadn’t been there a few months ago?

His gaze swept over her, lingering on her full breasts, the dip of her navel and her curving hips. “You’re beautiful and sexy and hot. But…” He tipped his head. “What is different about this design? I can’t quite put my finger on it. Is it a new type of silk?”

“Well, there’s considerably
more
fabric than usual.”

He put one arm around her and slid his other hand beneath the top, over her belly. The warmth of his palm made her tingle with pleasure. “Is it for larger women? I like that. Big curves can be very sexy.”

Layla closed her eyes with a soft moan as he bent to suckle her pebbled nipple through the silk. “I’m glad you think so because I’m going to have some very large curves in the not too distant future.”

Giorgio stilled, then he raised his head to study her face, understanding slowly dawning. “Do you mean…?”

Her eyes moistened as she nodded, smiling. “You’re going to be a father.”

“
Per tutti i santi
!” He uttered an impassioned stream of Italian as he cupped her face and kissed her over and over, breaking only to hug her and laugh. Finally he paused and unabashedly wiped his streaming eyes. “We must tell Mamma and my sisters. We need to build a nursery. And buy a puppy. Start thinking of names…”

“I’ve already thought of some names. Tell me if you agree,” she said, laughing and blotting her own eyes. “Louisa Isabella if it’s a girl. And if it’s a boy…Giuseppe Leonardo.”

Giorgio made a soft gasp. Tenderness and love shone from the depths of his eyes. Their emotional connection, already strong and true, deepened until her heart was fuller than she could have thought possible. Then he folded her in his strong, gentle, protective arms, pressing his cheek against her face, and she felt the wetness of his tears mingling with hers. “
Mi amore. Ti amo. Ti Amo. Ti Amo.
”

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Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank Kati Tempesta for sharing her inside knowledge of Italian family life and culture and in particular, the hidden quirks of Italian billionaires.

About the Author

Joan Kilby
gets some of her best story ideas while traveling. A trip to Rome last year inspired her to weave a tale about a hot, tortured Italian alpha hero and the American woman who sets out to make him over and is plunged into the sexiest romantic fantasy of her life.

Joan dreamed of becoming a writer as a child growing up in Vancouver, Canada. After a decade-long detour as a marine biologist she returned to her first love—writing—and never looked back. When she’s not writing, she loves to cook, garden, go to the gym, and walk her crazy Jack Rascal terrier, Sparky. She lives in Melbourne, Australia with her awesome hero husband and three children.

Joan is the award-winning author of over twenty-five romance novels. For more information about her books, go to
http://www.joankilby.com
, or find her on
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. She loves to hear from readers so feel free to drop her a line!

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