The Passionate Italian 11 DECEMBER EPUB Read Online Free Page A

With unerring skill he’d identified her weak points and suggested that the only reason Giovanni had married her was to protect the family’s commercial interests: a useful investment for the family. Why else would Giovanni have married a nobody, far less beautiful than any of the women with whom he’d been linked?
    Giovanni couldn’t know of the private taunts his brother had subjected her to. Taunts that ultimately turned poisonous with abuse. But Giovanni had just used the same word.
    An investment, a possession. A possession that had slipped from his grasp. Whatever Giovanni’s feelings for her—if he had any—he would be angry that she’d left. One didn’t just leave Giovanni Visconti. If one did, one lived to regret it. Giovanni had a way of making you pay.
    And how exactly, she wondered, was he going to make her pay?
    She opened her eyes once more finding no relief in her thoughts. Giovanni’s attention had returned to the computer. Why he bothered was beyond her. He didn’t need to. He had enough staff to run a small country.
    She turned to the blackness of the Tasman Sea—New Zealand now long gone—as they headed towards Australia. From there they’d stop briefly in Singapore and then on to Italy.
    Twenty-four hours alone with Giovanni.
    She guessed that it wouldn’t take long to find out what exactly he had in mind.

    It wasn’t until the steward had laid out selection of Italian antipasto, together with some fresh New Zealand delicacies that Giovanni joined her at the table once more.
    “A glass of champagne, Signora Visconti?” The steward’s smile was warm, despite his formality.
    Rose started at her old name and then smiled acceptance. But it wasn’t until the door closed behind the steward that Giovanni broke the silence.
    He held up his glass. “Salute.”
    “Are we celebrating something?”
    “Our renewed partnership, cara.”
    “A forced partnership.”
    “Come, you will benefit. If only to, what was it you said, be ‘free of the fear’ that I will find you. The fact that I will set you up financially for the future is surely not insignificant.”
    “Giovanni, you seem to be ignoring the fact that I didn’t choose to be here.”
    “Perhaps you did not think it possible?” He shrugged. “But, here we are, together at last.”
    She closed her eyes at his arrogance, at his inability to imagine that someone may disagree with him. She sighed, knowing when she was beaten. “Here we are…”  
    “Now, you must eat. You look as if you haven’t eaten dinner since you left Italy.”
    “I guess that could be a compliment.”
    “It could be, but it isn’t. You are too skinny. I prefer flesh on my women.”
    “Just as well I’m not your woman then isn’t it?”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. You are my wife.”
    “In name only.” She popped an oyster into her mouth, relishing its texture and the cheek-pinching tang of fresh lemon.
    He sighed and let his head drop back on the seat. “You will always be my woman, whether you or I like it or not.”
    “I’m sure you tell all your conquests that they belong to you.”
    He shrugged. He looked indifferent to the fact that his image was regularly plastered over the tabloids, a new woman on his arm at every party.  
    “All women need to feel loved.”
    “Loved, but perhaps not stifled.”
    “You are splitting hairs. It is an excellent trait in an IT professional, but irritating in a woman.” He glanced at his watch. “Eat. Then we’ll get down to business. We have a day—and a night—ahead so we may as well be productive.”
    “And this is the night if I’m not mistaken. Surely you don’t make your staff work at night?”  
    “But what better opportunity? We have only one bedroom.”
    “You have two bedrooms on this plane, Giovanni. I know, I’ve counted.”
    “You wouldn’t put the staff out of a bed now would you?”
    “They have their own quarters.”
    “Not tonight. We have a larger complement than normal. So we