The Italian's Innocent Mistress

Chapter Eleven.

Unedited

Sitting there watching her lying there hopelessly made anger coiled inside him like an ensnared livid serpent, the venom of his anger throbbing him in every possible place. He looked at his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists and rotated his head to ease the tension that had slithered into his shoulders and neck.

Staring out of the window aimlessly, in one hand he nursed a whisky on the rocks, which he had been periodically sipping for the past half-hour. He pondered over what he had learnt about Bellissa's accident.

Nothing

He didn't like it. And the fact that he couldn't find a shred of evidence of it was alarming. It seemed unlikely for being just a simple hit and run for what his security team had gathered-there was no witness or surveillance for the few blocks where the incident happened. Things didn't add up and he knew, as a shrewd businessman, that if something didn't add up then it was most probably fishy.

Fury bit savagely. He turned abruptly away from the window and headed for the door. The protective instincts that sprang into life at the thought of anything happened to her.

He had called her house, after he couldn't get to her through her mobile phone for the dinner date when he was relayed the news of her accident. It a was the total moment of pure insanity. Even the fact he was informed that the doctor ruled out to be a minor accident with no severe consequences. He was still on the edge of destruction.

He was so close to lose her and that grated his nerves. He wasn't so sure he liked the emotional turbulence that Bellissa had awakened. Five minutes spent with her and he forgot the control and experience he had learned after thirty-two years of living. One look at those eyes, the curves of her body, and he reverted to the yearning hunger of an adolescent who had just discovered his sexuality and the attractions of the opposite sex. And he didn't like the way that made him feel.

So, he'd had to put the stop to it for the sake of his own sanity.Too long. It had been a wait that had tried all his patience, straining it to breaking point at times. But no more even if it means to break his life sworn oath.

Lust could be such a powerful tool.

Leonardo had thoroughly thought about it, sitting there waiting for her to wake up and being examined by his own doctor.

He wasn't getting any younger. The vision of a lonely old man living alone in his huge mansion had presented itself  before him in all its dubious glory and didn't sit well with him. And some point he would need an heir to continue the Ferraris dynasty. Sweet natured, naïve, Bellissa was suitable wife and mother. She would never demand anything, and would never see him as a walking bank balance in need of run down. If there was one thing he had established beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was that she was uninterested in money. The icing on the cake was that the settle down would be given full approval by his nonna, who had uniformly disliked every single woman he was pictured with except for sweet Bellissa.

A cynical smile etched his lips.

Even before Bellissa opened her eyes she didn't know where she was. At the blurred edges of her consciousness she unclearly registered the sound of the rustling curtains and voices, both males, speaking in low hushed tones.

And on clue the man moved beside her and smiled warmly."Who are you?" she croaked out

"Dr Matteo," he told her gently. "How do you feel?"

"I'm not so sure," she owned unevenly, and he gave a small smile of encouragement.

'I'll conduct a thorough examination now that you're awake. Are you in any pain?'