Bought For The Sicilian Billionaire's Bed
Madonna mia!
The words sounded as bitter as Sicilian lemons and as rich as its wine, but Jessica didn't lift her head from her task. There was a whole floor to wash and the executive cloakroom still to clean before she could go home. And besides, looking at Salvatore was distracting. She swirled her mop over the floor. Much too distracting.
'What is it with these women?' Salvatore demanded heatedly, and his eyes narrowed when he saw he was getting no response from the shadowy figure in the corner. 'Jessica?'
The question cracked out as sharply as if he had shot it from a gun—taut and harsh and unconditional—and Jessica raised her head to look at the man who had fired it at her, steeling herself against his undeniable attraction, though that was easier said than done.
Even she, with her scant experience of the opposite sex, recognised that men like this were few and far between, something which might account for his arrogance and his famous short temper. Salvatore Cardini— the figurehead of the powerful Cardini family. Dashing, dominant and the darling of just about every woman in London, if the gossip ... read full excerpt from: Bought for the Sicilian Billionaire's Bed ebook
