What Her Sicilian Husband Desires

“Truly,” he said, in that low voice of his that wound around and around inside her, “you are a thing of beauty, Chloe.” “So are you, Lao,” she said softly, then found herself smiling when he looked surprised she should compliment him in return. It made her wonder if he was so overwhelming, so wildly intense, and so astronomically remote in every way that mattered, that no one bothered to offer him compliments. But any such thoughts splintered, because he carried her hand to his lips and pressed a courtly sort of kiss to her knuckles. It should have felt silly and old-fashioned, but it didn’t. Not in an ancient castle, perched here above an island so steeped in history. And not when the faint brush of his lips across the back of her hand made everything inside her seem to curl up tight, then begin to boil. “Welcome, little one,” he murmured, the heat in his gaze making everything inside her take notice, especially the tender flesh between her legs. And that heart of hers that would not stop its wild thundering. “To our wedding night. At last.” USA TODAY bestselling, RITA® Award-nominated and critically acclaimed author CAITLIN CREWS has written more than a hundred and thirty books and counting. She has a masters and PhD in English literature, thinks everyone should read more category romance and is always available to discuss her beloved alpha heroes—just ask. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her comic book–artist husband, is always planning her next trip and will never, ever read all the books in her to-be-read pile. Thank goodness. What Her Sicilian Husband Desires Caitlin Crews www.millsandboon.co.uk Contents Cover About the Author Booklist Title Page Copyright Note to Readers Introduction CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE Extract About the Publisher CHAPTER ONE IT WAS A beautiful day for a divorce. Chloe Stapleton smiled to herself as the private jet winged its way down over the mountains of Sicily that rose up from the gleaming Mediterranean Sea, jutting proudly high and covered in sprawling vineyards and crumbling old temples to honor gods long lost. That felt appropriate too. She kept her gaze trained out through the window as the plane came in for a brisk landing on a remote hilltop strip, carved into the mountains with a certain brutal efficiency that reminded her of the owner of not only the plane, but the landing strip too. And the whole bloody mountain, the better part of Sicily, not to mention an ever-widening swath of the whole wide world beyond. For there was no part of the planet, however isolated and far away, that the might and power of the Monteleone family did not reach. Chloe was already feeling a bit nostalgic that she was very shortly going to be asked to resign from her place as one of them. Or rather, one of them in name only, she amended. She had been to this estate only once before. Five years ago, when she hadn’t known what to do, so she’d reached out to the darkly powerful man who had once been her stepbrother to beg him for help. He had been her only hope—and Lao Monteleone had not hesitated. She always thought of him as a smooth coil of a man, forever holding himself back from the unwary—which only made his ruthless ferocity all the more apparent. When she knew, as did the world, that he did exactly what suited him when and how he liked. But he had always been kind to her, if distant. She had come all the way here five years ago, banking on that kindness, and Lao had not let her down. As she stepped out of the plane and allowed his always excruciatingly well-trained staff to usher her into the waiting car, she could admit that Lao’s kindness—and the protection he had offered her immediately—had made her feel safe when she hadn’t believed she would ever feel such a thing again. She would never forget that. In the darkest hour of her grief, when she had lost her father and with him, the one person who had always loved her and championed her in all things, Lao had stepped in. He had taken care of everything, allowing Chloe to take care of herself. It was truly bittersweet to return here today, knowing full well that this must be the end of that safety. That she would need to find a way to be her own safe space from here on out. Surely this is simply called learning to be an adult, Chloe told herself stoutly. Get a hold of yourself, girl. She tried to brush the strange melancholy away as the car took her down from the landing strip on narrow track roads that wound around the exuberantly wild mountains, giving her sweeping views of the ancient Sicilian cities down near the water and the many historic villages tucked into the hills. Back home in London, the weather was predictably vile, making the sunshine appear even more bountiful here. It seemed like a blessing, pouring down through the trees and making the leaves gleam brightly as she drove through. Even five years ago, when she had still felt so inside out in the face of her father’s loss, it had been impossible not to notice the beauty of this untamed island. While she had spent many holidays in the more refined parts of Italy before then—the hills of Tuscany, the canals of Venice, the beaches of the Amalfi Coast—she had never come to Sicily before or since. And it made that nostalgia within her seem to ache all on its own to find it just as she remembered it. A wild tangle, not quite civilized, and in no way as manicured as the Italy thought she knew. But then, the same could be said for Lao himself. He