The Italian Millionaire's Marriage

Harlequin Romance^>® presents a brand-new trilogy from bestselling author

LUCY GORDON

The Counts of Calvani

These proud Italian aristocrats are about to propose!

The Calvani family is a prosperous, aristocratic Italian family headed by Count Francesco Calvani.

He has three nephews:

Guido—charming, easygoing and wealthy in his own right, Guido is based in Venice. He’s heir to the Calvani title, but he doesn’t want it….

Marco—aristocratic, sophisticated and very good-looking, Marco is every woman’s dream, managing the family’s banking and investments in Rome.

Leo—proud, rugged and athletic, Leo is a reluctant tycoon, running the family’s prosperous farms in Tuscany.

The pressure is mounting on all three Calvani brothers to marry and produce the next heirs in the Calvani dynasty. Each will find a wife—but will it be out of love or duty…?

Find out in this emotional, exciting and dramatic trilogy:

The Venetian Playboy’s Bride #3744

The Italian Millionaire’s Marriage #3751 The Tuscan Tycoon’s Wife #3760

Don’t miss it!

Dear Reader,

After Venice, Rome is my favorite Italian city, a place that once ruled the world, and the Romans still know it. There is an instinctive pride that makes Roman men, like Marco Calvani, especially fascinating. They deal with life on their own terms, and woe betide anyone who crosses them. Aloof on the surface, they conceal passion that is irresistible, but only for the right woman.

Marco, the cool-headed Roman banker, viewed his cousin Guido’s adventures in love with wry amusement, certain that when his own time came he could keep his dignity. In The Italian Millionaire’s Marriage we find him determined to marry, but not to risk his feelings. He seeks a marriage of convenience with the granddaughter of his mother’s dearest friend.

Harriet is not what he expected: Half Italian, half English, she has a passion for antiques. She sees in Marco a passport to the great art treasures of Rome, and agrees to an engagement—but only an engagement. How can this man, who likes to be always in control, admit to himself that winning her love is growing more important every day? It is only when he’s ready to cast aside pride and dignity that he finds the courage to be honest about his feelings. But by then it’s almost too late….

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘I DO not need a husband, do you understand that? I do not need a husband. And I certainly don’t want one.’ These last words were said with a mild shudder that shocked Harriet d’Estino’s listener.

‘Harriet, calm down,’ she begged.

‘A husband? Good grief! I’ve lived twenty-seven years without troubling myself with a creature so bothersome and unnecessary—’

‘Will you just listen?’

‘—and when I find my own sister matchmaking for me— Stars above! You’ve got a nerve, Olympia.’

‘I wasn’t matchmaking,’ Olympia said placatingly. ‘I just thought you might find Marco useful.’

Harriet made a sound that would have been a snort if she hadn’t been a lady.

‘No man is ever useful,’ she said firmly. ‘The breed isn’t made that way.’

‘All right, I won’t argue.’

They were half-sisters, one English, one Italian. Only their rich auburn hair linked them to their common parent, and each other. But in Olympia, the younger, the glorious tresses were teased into a glamorous creation. In Harriet, the same colour hung, straight and austere on either side of an earnest face.

Their clothes too revealed their opposing characters. Olympia was dressed in the height of Italian fashion. Harriet looked as though she’d put on whatever was comfortable and handy. Olympia’s figure was slender and seductive. Harriet was certainly slender. It was hard to be sure about anything else.

Olympia looked around her at the exquisite shop in the heart of London’s West End. It was filled with fine art and antiques, several of which caught her interest.

‘He’s splendid,’ she exclaimed, noticing a bronze bust of a young man.

‘First-century Roman,’ Harriet said, glancing up. ‘Emperor Caesar Augustus.’

‘Really dishy,’ Olympia purred, studying the face close up. ‘That fine nose, that aristocratic head on the long, muscular neck, and that mouth—all stern discipline masking incredible sensuality. I’ll bet he was a tiger with the women.’

‘You spend too much time thinking about sex,’ Harriet said severely.

‘And you don’t spend enough time thinking about it. It’s disgraceful.’

Harriet shrugged. ‘There are more interesting things in life.’

‘Nonsense, of course there aren’t,’ Olympia said with conviction. ‘I just wish you were as interested in living men as dead ones.’

‘Listen to you!’ Harriet riposted. ‘You’ve just been mooning over a man who’s been dead for two thousand years. Anyway, dead ones are better. They don’t tell lies, get legless or chat up your friends. And you can talk to them without being interrupted.’

‘So cynical. Mind you, Marco’s pretty cynical, too. Otherwise he’d have married long ago.’