Carol Marinelli – In the Italian's Bed: Bedded for Pleasure, Purchased for Pregnancy / The Italian's Ruthless Baby Bargain / The Italian Count's Defiant Bride (страница 1)
In the Italian’s Bed
Bedded for Pleasure, Purchased for Pregnancy
Carol Marinelli
The Italian’s Ruthless Baby Bargain
Margaret Mayo
The Italian Count’s Defiant Bride
Catherine George
Table of Contents
Bedded for Pleasure, Purchased for Pregnancy
The Italian’s Ruthless Baby Bargain
The Italian Count’s Defiant Bride
CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title, and she was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation, and after chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked—‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But—given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open—I’m sure you can guess the real answer!
Carol also writes for Medical Romance ™ !
‘GUESS who’s coming tonight!’
Emma smiled at the excitement in her mother’s voice as Lydia Hayes replaced the phone receiver.
‘Half of Melbourne are coming!’
The party was all her mother had spoken about for the past few weeks, Emma’s father’s sixtieth birthday, and the intimate dinner they had initially planned had swelled to marquee proportions! Every inch of their sweeping bay view home had been commandeered to maximum effect, with the marquee open to reveal Port Phillip Bay in all its glory, and even the weather had obliged, with a clear sky allowing for city views. The dance floor had been laid, the band was setting up, caterers were milling, and Lydia was rattling with nerves as the hour approached. But the telephone call had, momentarily at least, halted her nerves.
‘We’ve got an unexpected guest!’ Lydia clasped her hands in delight. ‘Go on, Emma, guess who.’
‘Mum…’ Emma wailed, wrapped in a towel and painting her toenails. Having spent the day helping her mother prepare, she was already racing against the clock to be ready.
‘Just tell me.’
‘Zarios!’
A smudge of red nail varnish streaked across Lydia’s little toe. Pulling out a cotton bud, she dabbed at the area, refusing to let on that it mattered a jot that Zarios was coming tonight.
Oh, but it did.