Vows on the Virgin's Terms: An Uplifting International Romance

By Clare Connelly

The penniless heiress needs a husband…immediately! Get swept away by this intense wedding-of-convenience romance by Clare Connelly.

Bargaining with the billionaire 
For his ring!

Innocent Olivia may have the prestigious Thornton-Rose name, but her father’s will demands that unless she marries Luca Giovanardi, that’s all she’ll have! With her loved ones nearing destitution, she proposes a four-week marriage…on paper!

If guarded Luca is to rebuild his family’s tarnished legacy, he can’t refuse Olivia’s offer. But their Italian honeymoon unlocks a desire he didn’t expect when virgin Olivia asks for a real wedding night. Luca’s feelings are off-limits, but their heat will test his defenses as the expiry date of their union quickly approaches…

From Harlequin Presents: Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds. 

Read all of The Cinderella Sisters books:
Book 1: Vows on the Virgin's Terms
Book 2: Forbidden Nights in Barcelona
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harlequin Presents
• Release date: Dec 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9780369707468

Clare Connelly

Clare Connelly was raised in small-town Australia among a family of avid readers. She spent much of her childhood up a tree, Mills & Boon book in hand. Clare is married to her own real-life hero and they live in a bungalow near the sea with their two children. She is frequently found staring into space - a surefire sign she is in the world of her characters. She has a penchant for French food and ice-cold champagne, and Mills & Boon novels continue to be her favourite ever books. Writing for MIlls & Boon is a long-held dream.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

IF OLIVIA COULD have closed her eyes and disappeared to anywhere else in the world, then she absolutely would have done so. But, having tricked Luca Giovanardi’s assistant into revealing that he would be attending this all-star event, spent money she could ill afford on a budget airfare to Italy, and actually turned up at the party on the banks of the Tiber, she knew she’d crossed the point of no return.

There was nothing for it.

Her eyes scanned the crowds, feasting on the unfamiliar elegance and sophistication, a churning in her gut reminding her, every second, that she didn’t belong here. It was so removed from her normal life, so different from what she was used to.

The party was in full swing, the restaurant courtyard packed with affluent guests, the fragrance in the air a heady mix of night-flowering jasmine and cloying floral perfume. As she studied the swarming crowd of glitterati, a woman bustled past, bumping Olivia, so she offered a tight smile of apology automatically, despite having done nothing worse than stand like a statue, frozen to the spot, too afraid to move deeper into the crowd, despite the fact she’d come here for exactly this purpose.

Naturally, he was in the centre.

Not just of the party, but of a group of people—men and women—his obvious charisma keeping each in his thrall, so that as he spoke their eyes were glued to his chiselled symmetrical face.

Why did he have to be so handsome? This wouldn’t be so difficult if he were ordinary looking. Or even just an ordinary man. But everything about Luca Giovanardi was quite famously extraordinary, from his family’s fall from grace to his spectacular resurrection to the top of the world’s financial elite. As for his personal life, Olivia had gleaned only what was absolutely necessary from the Internet—but it had been enough to know that he was the polar opposite of her in every way. Where she was a twenty-four-year-old virgin who’d never even been so much as kissed by a man before, Luca was every inch the red-blooded male, a bachelor ever since his brief, long-ago marriage ended, a bachelor who made no attempt to conceal the speed with which he churned through glamorous, sexy women.

Was she really aiming to be one of them?

Olivia licked her lips, her throat suddenly parched, and, despite the fact she was alone, she shook her head, needing to physically push the idea from her mind. She wasn’t aiming to become his mistress; what she needed was to become his wife.

A drum seemed to beat inside her body, gentle at first, the same drum beat she’d been hearing for years, since she’d first learned of her father’s will and the implications contained therein for her, and her life. But now, as she stared at Luca, the drum was growing louder, more intense, filling her body with a tempo that was both unnerving and compelling.

There must have been two hundred people, at least, in the courtyard, and yet, at the very moment she moved a single foot, with the intention of cutting a path through the crowd and getting his attention, his eyes lifted and speared hers, the directness of his stare forcing her lips apart as a shot of breath fired from her body, the searing heat of his appraising glance the last thing she’d expected. So much for making her way to him! Her legs were filled with cement suddenly, completely immovable.

She’d seen photographs of him—there were no shortage of images online—but they hadn’t prepared her for the real, three-dimensional image of Luca, and the way his nearness would affect her. His eyes were dark—like the bark of the old elm that grew at the rear of Hughenwood House. But not in summer, so much as winter, after a heavy rain, when it glistened and shimmered. A tremble ran the length of her spine. Olivia blinked away, needing relief. But even as her eyes landed on the moonlit river that snaked through this ancient city, she could feel his eyes on her, warming her flesh, tracing the lines of her face and body in a way she’d never known before.

Almost as if they had their own free will, her eyes dragged back towards him, skating over the other guests, hoping to find someone—something—that would serve as a life raft. But there was nothing that could compare to the magnetism of Luca Giovanardi—and Olivia was sunk.

When her eyes met his, he smirked, as if to say ‘knew you couldn’t resist me’, and then he turned back to his companions, resuming whatever story had held them in his thrall all along.

Olivia’s heart sank to her toes.

This wouldn’t work if she found her husband attractive. She wanted a businesslike marriage, ordained purely to free up her inheritance. There was to be no personal connection between them, nothing that could make their marriage messier than it already was.

And yet, how could she not find him appealing? Despite evidence to the contrary—a spectacularly uninteresting love life—Olivia was still a woman, and she recognised a drop-dead gorgeous guy when he was paraded right beneath her nose. Who wouldn’t recognise how damned hot Luca Giovanardi was? From his chiselled features, swarthy complexion, hair that was thick and dark and rough on top as though he made a habit of dragging his fingers through it, to a physique that was half wild animal and half man, all sinew and lean muscular strength, a figure that was barely contained by his obviously bespoke suit. It fitted him like a glove physically, but his spirit was too primal for such elegant tailoring. He should be naked. The thought had her sitting up straighter, mouth dry, and before she could help herself an image of him sans clothes exploded into her mind—the details undoubtedly inaccurate for lack of personal experience with anything approaching a naked man, but it was still enough to bring colour to her pale cheeks.

One thing was certain: Luca was not the kind of man one simply propositioned out of nowhere. Even with the leverage she felt she’d found it was almost impossible to believe it would be enough. She was perfectly au fait with her reasons for needing this marriage, but why in the world would a man like Luca, who had the world eating out of the palm of his hands, accept what she was intending to suggest?

She forced her legs to move once more, but, rather than taking her towards Luca, they fed her away from the party, skirting the edges of it, until she arrived in a quiet spot near a table of empty glasses, with one solitary waiter sitting on an upturned milk crate, smoking a cigarette. Olivia pretended not to notice him as she made her way to the railing, curling her hands over it and staring down at the river, her stomach in a thousand knots.

Coward.

Are you really going to leave without even asking him?

Did you ever think you’d go through with this?

It wasn’t as though she’d told Sienna or their mother, Angelica, what she’d planned, so they wouldn’t hold the failure against her. Yet despite that, how could Olivia ever face them, knowing she had the power to fix their futures, and had simply balked at the first hurdle?

For the briefest moment, the threat of tears stung Olivia’s azure eyes, but it had been a long time since she’d cried, let alone run the risk of anyone seeing her cry, so she bit down on her lower lip until the urge passed, focusing on blotting her emotions completely, so that, a moment later, she was able to straighten her spine and turn around, ready to return to the party and once more weigh up her options—or torment herself with the path she knew she had to take, even when she was terrified to do so.

The waiter had disappeared, leaving the upended crate and a lingering odour of second-hand smoke that made Olivia’s nose wrinkle as she passed. She turned her head to avoid the aroma, and as a result of not looking in the direction she was walking, stepped right into a rock-hard wall of a human’s chest.

‘Oh!’ She tore her face back, apologising before she could make sense of what had happened, so even before she realised that the strong hands curling around her forearms to steady her belonged to Luca Giovanardi, she heard herself say, ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.’

‘Now, we both know that is a lie,’ he responded, his voice deep and gruff, and so much more sensual than she had ever known a voice could be. Her heart went into overdrive as she was confronted with, in many ways, her very worst nightmare.

Olivia sprang back from him, needing space urgently. She looked around, wishing now that the waiter were in evidence.

‘Are you leaving?’ Her question blurted out. His answering response, a slow-spreading grin, was like being bathed in warm caramel. Olivia tried not to feel the effects of it, but how could she resist? Nothing in her life had prepared her for this.

‘No.’

‘Oh.’ Her relief was purely because that meant she hadn’t lost her opportunity to do this. ‘Good.’

When his eyes met hers, the speculation in them was unmistakable. Oh, God. This was going from bad to worse. It was bad enough that she had imagined him naked, but that he might feel a similar curiosity about her...

‘I take it you are not leaving, either?’

‘I—no. Why?’

‘This is the exit.’ He nodded towards the garden.

‘Oh.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘I didn’t—no. I just needed space.’

He lifted a brow. ‘And now, bella? Have you had enough space?’

Bella? Beautiful? A shudder ran through her. She was not beautiful. At least, she desperately didn’t want to be. Not in the way any man might notice and praise her for. She was not going to be like her mother—praised for her looks, adored for them, and then resented for them and the power they wielded. It was one of the reasons she’d refused to dress up tonight, choosing to wear a pair of simple black pants and a cream linen blouse—nothing that could draw attention to her figure, nothing that could draw attention to her at all.

‘Olivia,’ she supplied quickly, stopping herself from revealing her surname by clamping her lips together.

‘Luca.’ He held out a hand, as if to shake hers, but when Olivia placed hers in Luca’s grip, he lifted it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss across her knuckles. Delicate it might have been, but the effect of her central nervous system was cataclysmic. She jerked her hand away, her blood pressure surely reaching dangerous levels now.

‘I know.’ Her own voice was croaky; she cleared it. Don’t be such a coward! Get this over with. ‘Actually...’ She dug her fingernails into her palms. ‘You’re the reason I’m here tonight.’

His expression didn’t change, yet she was aware of a tightening in his frame, a tension radiating from him now that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

‘Am I?’ There was dark scepticism in his words, and she wondered at that. ‘And why is that?’

‘I came to speak to you.’

‘I see.’

Was that disappointment in the depths of his eyes? She’d been wrong before. They were nothing like bark. Nothing so ordinary. These were eyes that were as dark as the sky, as determined as iron, as fascinating as every book ever written. She was losing herself in their intricacies, committing each spec to memory when she should have been focusing on what she needed to say!

‘Well?’ he drawled, and now his cynicism was unmistakable. ‘What would you like to discuss?’

Her heart stammered. Say it. But how in the world could Olivia Thornton-Rose stand there and propose marriage to Luca Giovanardi? It was so ridiculous that, out of nowhere, she laughed, a tremulous, eerie sound, underscored by a lifting of her fingers to her forehead. She ran them across her brow, searching for words.

‘There are two reasons women generally approach me,’ he said quietly. ‘Either with an investment opportunity...’ he formed air quote marks around the word ‘...or to suggest a more...personal arrangement. Why don’t you say which it is you have come to discuss?’

She sucked in a jagged breath, his arrogance wholly unexpected. But somehow, it made things easier, because he reminded her, ever so slightly, of her father in that moment, and that in turn made her feel just a little bit of hate for him—a hate that helped her face the necessity of what she’d come to do.

‘I suppose, if we have to place this conversation into one of those two categories, it would certainly be the former, and not the latter.’

His eyes probed hers for longer than was necessary, then swept down to her lips, blazing a line of fire and heat as he went. ‘Shame,’ he murmured. ‘I am not interested in any further business opportunities at present. However, a personal connection would have been quite satisfying to explore.’

Her stomach rolled and tumbled and her breath seemed to burn inside her lungs, making breathing almost impossible. Stars danced behind her eyelids. ‘Impossible,’ she managed to squeak out, wishing for her trademark cool in that moment. ‘I’m not interested in that, at all.’

His features showed that he knew that to be a lie. Was she so obvious? Of course she was. She had no experience. How could she conceal what she was feeling from someone like Luca? She was a lamb to slaughter.

‘Then I cannot see what we have to discuss.’

Do it. Get it over with. What’s the worst that can happen? That he’ll say no?

‘I know about the bank you’re trying to buy.’

He straightened, regarding her with a new level of interest. She’d surprised him, the words the last thing he’d expected to hear from her.

‘Everyone knows about the offer I have made,’ he hedged with admirable restraint, as though it were no big deal.

‘Yes.’ She offered a small smile, trying to defuse the tension that was pulling between them, and failing miserably. ‘Of course, it’s not a secret.’

He didn’t say anything in response, and his silence seemed to stretch between them.

‘You want to buy a bank, one of the oldest in Europe, and the board won’t sell because of your playboy reputation. They’re conservative and you’re...not.’

His features—briefly—glowered before he resumed an expression of non-concern. His control was impressive.

‘In addition, your father—’

‘My father is none of your business,’ he bit out crisply, surprising her with his vehemence. So those wounds still smarted, then? Despite the passage of twelve years, it seemed Luca hadn’t recovered from the scandal that befell his father—his whole family—and the part he’d played in it.

‘Actually, that’s not exactly true.’

Luca’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ah. I see. Is this another debt of his? Money owed from him to you?’ He frowned. ‘But you are too young, so perhaps it is a debt to someone else, someone you love?’

Olivia’s heart thumped. Someone she loved? Was there any such person? Sienna, of course, she thought of her younger sister with an ache in the region of her heart. But beyond Sienna, Olivia was alone in the world. There was no one else she loved. Her mother, she pitied, and felt a great deal of duty to care for, but loved? It was far too complicated to be described in that way, and impossible to express in such simplistic terms.

‘It’s not like that.’

Luca’s nostrils flared. ‘Then why do you not get to the point and tell me what it is, rather than what it is not?’

‘I’m trying,’ she promised from between clenched lips. ‘But you’re kind of intimidating, you know?’

Her honesty had surprised him. He took a step backwards, tilted his face away, drew in a deep enough breath to make his chest shift visibly, then expelled it slowly, before turning back to face her.

‘I cannot help being who I am.’

‘I know. But, just—bear with me. This isn’t easy.’

He crossed his arms over his chest—hardly painting a picture of calm acceptance. She bit down on her lower lip then stopped when his eyes dropped to the gesture.

‘Perhaps we should start with my