The Italian Tycoon's Mistress(64)

By: Cathy Williams


‘Of course you did.’ He pulled her down to him and they fell backwards on the carpet, untangling themselves with breathless laughter. He rolled her onto her side so that he could look at her. ‘Even when you were still going out with that man, I bet you only had eyes for me.’

‘How did you know?’

Rocco flipped her onto her back and covered her legs with one heavy thigh.

‘Hoped, my darling. Hoped and wanted because it’s impossible to believe you could ever have eyes for anyone else when you are the object of all the love I have in my heart.’ He tenderly kissed the nape of her neck and murmured warmly into her ear. ‘You know you have to marry me, don’t you?’

‘Have to…?’

‘No choice, I’m afraid.’

‘In that case…I’d be a fool to argue, then, wouldn’t I…?’



Antonio looked at his son and the young woman who had been as close to him as his own daughter for so many years and was filled with the richness of contentment.

In his most secret dreams, he had never dared hope that he might be blessed with a reconciliation with his son. He had nursed his private regrets and accepted the distance between them with the weary resignation of an old man who had given up expecting the unexpected.

But reconciliation this most certainly was. In fact, the past week spent with his son and his daughter-in-law had been the happiest days of his life. So much catching up to do. To think that he had missed so much because of his ignorance and pride. To imagine that the bond he should have forged with his only son had been lost because, in his despair and grief, he had pushed the child away only to watch the child become a man and do the same to him. Serena had been taken from him, yes, but it had never been Rocco’s fault and he had finally found the courage to tell him that, to tell him how his own misplaced pride had allowed barriers to be built between them that the years had further cemented.


Amy had mellowed him, he thought now, watching as they strolled back from their walk along the private beach, fingers loosely linked, their body language speaking volumes. He was relaxed, he laughed and when he looked at her there was such love in his eyes that Antonio almost felt he could reach out and capture some and bottle it.

He waved at them as they approached.

‘You should have come walking with us, Antonio.’ Amy smiled at him and gave him a quick hug. ‘It’s beautiful here.’

‘A man could forget about the reason for working in a place like this.’ Rocco looked at his father and grinned.

‘And I know a man who has,’ Antonio informed his son. ‘Not that he would not appreciate a little company from foreign shores now and again…’ One more week and they would be gone. He would miss them more than he could express. ‘And, of course, whoever else might accompany them in due course…’

‘Friends, you mean?’ Amy asked innocently and Antonio and his son exchanged a wryly knowing look.

‘Somewhat closer than that.’ Rocco laughed, pulling her to him and kissing the top of her head, which smelt of sun and cool breezes. ‘More along the lines of family, but little ones…’

‘Well, we’ll have to work on that,’ Amy murmured softly, eyes shining at every dream she had ever had that had now come true.

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