Vito finally tore his gaze from his bride’s opulent curves, that were so wonderfully enhanced by the fine fabric of her dress, but the words he had been about to speak had vanished from his brain. Holly, he acknowledged simply, was an incredibly sexy woman. Innate sensuality threaded her every movement. It was there in her light gliding walk, the feminine sway of her hips, the swell of her breasts as she straightened her spine and angled her head back to expose her throat.
He had expected Apollo to recognise the sheer depth of Holly’s natural appeal, but he couldn’t be sorry that his friend’s distrust had blinded him because when Vito had seen some of his guests look at his bride with lustful intent, it had annoyed the hell out of him. And that new possessive, jealously protective streak about what was his disturbed Vito, who was immensely suspicious of emotional promptings. He had always chosen women who brought out the rational side of his nature but Holly incited much more primal urges.
Vito’s butler, Silvestro, moved forward to pour the wine with a flourish and light the candles on the circular table. Holly tasted the wine with an appreciative sip.
‘It’s an award-winning Brunello my grandfather laid down years ago. This is a special occasion,’ Vito pointed out as he dropped lithely down into his seat and shook out his napkin.
‘I cut my teeth on wines that tasted like vinegar.’ Holly sighed. ‘I’m not much of a drinker.’
‘Why would you be if it tasted that bad?’ Vito asked with amusement.
‘Why didn’t you warn me that you lived in a vast house your family have owned for centuries?’ Holly asked quietly.
‘It didn’t occur to me,’ Vito admitted with a frown.
‘This place was a shock…as was the new wardrobe.’
‘You were supposed to shop for clothes at the same time as you chose your wedding dress but the stylist said you weren’t interested. So I took care of it for you.’
‘Thank you, I suppose…’
As Silvestro left the room, having drawn the trolley close to enable them to serve themselves, Holly embarked on the tiny delicate parcels on her plate. They were exquisitely displayed, and the oriental flavours tasted phenomenal. The courses that followed were even better. Holly had never eaten such fabulous food before.
‘Who does the cooking here?’ she asked.
‘I have a very well-paid chef on staff. When I’m staying at one of my other properties he travels ahead of me.’
Bemused by the concept of a mobile personal chef, Holly blinked. ‘You have other properties?’
‘Here I have the apartment in Florence and a villa on the shores of Lugano in Switzerland. Those were inherited. But I also own property in the countries I visit most frequently,’ Vito admitted.
Holly was frowning. ‘What’s wrong with hotels?’
‘I don’t like them. I like quiet and privacy, particularly when I’m working,’ Vito advanced smoothly. ‘It’s my sole extravagance.’
‘When I called you a spoilt-rotten rich boy I wasn’t far off the mark,’ Holly dared.
‘Had you ever met my grandfather you would never have awarded me that label. He was a rigid disciplinarian with a punitive approach. He thought my mother was too soft with me.’ A rueful smile brought a gentler than usual curve to Vito’s wide sensual lips. ‘He was probably right.’
‘Your grandfather sounds very judgemental. I don’t think I would’ve liked him very much.’
‘He was a dinosaur but a well-intentioned one. Since he passed away two years ago, however, I have instigated many changes.’
Holly dealt him a sidewise glance and whispered conspiratorially, ‘Our bedroom is a complete horror.’
A flashing grin illuminated Vito’s lean, dark features. ‘Really?’
‘Very dark and depressing.’
‘I think I’ve only been in that room once in my life.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘You mean it wasn’t yours?’
‘No, it’s simply the main bedroom in the house and Silvestro has been trying to move me in there ever since my grandfather departed,’ Vito confided with amusement. ‘But I always resist change and I need the allure of a wife there to entice me.’
Holly compressed her lips as she sipped her wine. ‘I have no allure,’ she told him, wrinkling her snub nose in embarrassment.
Vito laughed, lounging back in his chair to study her with gleaming dark golden eyes. ‘Being unaware of it doesn’t mean you don’t have it. In fact that very lack of awareness is incredibly appealing.’