Bound By The Marcolini Diamonds (The Marcolini Men Book 2)

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘I have not resorted to sleeping with married women,’ he said. ‘I have plenty of single and unattached ones to work my way through first.’

  She swung away from him, snatching up her handbag and hoisting it over her shoulder. ‘I suppose you have a revolving door on your bedroom?’ she said, flashing him another glare.

  Mario grinned at the thought. ‘Not yet, but it sounds like a great idea,’ he said.

  Her glare intensified. ‘I think you are disgusting,’ she spat. ‘You have no morals. ‘You probably don’t even spare the women you bed with another thought once you have done with them. It’s such a shallow and selfish way to live.’

  ‘It is no more shallow and selfish than touching what does not belong to you,’ he pointed out.

  ‘You know nothing about me,’ she said with a mulish jut of her chin as tears welled up in her eyes. ‘You think you do, but you don’t.’

  He pushed himself away from the door frame where he had been leaning. ‘I know what Howard Roebourne told me about you.’

  Sabrina felt her face drain of colour as her heart began to pound sickeningly. ‘H-how do you know him?’ she asked.

  ‘The business world is not as big as you might think,’ he answered. ‘Roebourne and I move in the same financial circles. I happened to run into him at a corporate function when I was here the last time.’

  ‘W-what did he say?’ she asked, even though she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. After that last horrible scene with her previous employer, she could not think of a single thing he could say that would paint her in an attractive light.

  ‘Nothing I had not already worked out for myself,’ he said with an enigmatic smile.

  Sabrina silently ground her teeth. So that was why he had allowed her to kiss him on the day of Molly’s christening, to see if what he had heard about her was true. Her shameless grasp at him hadn’t done her any favours, she realised now when it was far too late to do anything to change things. If he had only suspected she was a wanton woman before, her behaviour at the christening would have been more than enough confirmation that his suspicions were accurate. She had acted so out of character that day. She had blamed the three glasses of champagne she had consumed, but she had only drunk them out of sheer nervousness in his presence.

  It had started the day of the wedding when he had captured her gaze and held it. Something had passed between them that day, something visceral. And then at the christening it had been activated all over again by Mario’s debonair charm, his lethally attractive smile, and the sensual glide of his hand on her bare arm as he had taken the baby from her. She had felt it as soon as his eyes had locked with hers, drawing her to him, holding her, making her burn for him as if he had turned on a switch inside her body. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to locate it since and turn it off. She had felt that same tingle of awareness even when his name had been mentioned, let alone standing in his presence as she was doing now.

  ‘Are you ready to leave?’ he asked as he picked up Molly in the baby carrier in one hand and her old suitcase in the other.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, avoiding his eyes.

  Once Molly was back in the car and the suitcase stowed, Mario got back behind the wheel. ‘I suppose I should warn you that the press will go wild about our forthcoming marriage,’ he said. ‘I know you are not keen on the idea, but I think the best approach is to let everyone believe this is a genuine love-match. That is what I told them back there at your flat. They seemed to be delighted by it.’

  Sabrina stared at him in wide-eyed alarm. ‘You told them I was in love with you?’

  He grinned at her wickedly. ‘Of course I did. I have my reputation to maintain, don’t forget. I can’t have people thinking you married me for my money. It’s demeaning.’

  ‘But I am only marrying you because of Molly, and it was your choice to pay me,’ she pointed out wryly.

  He gave a shrug of indifference. ‘Yes, but no one else needs to know that. Have you decided how much you want?’

  Sabrina swallowed tightly as she turned to look out of the passenger window. There was no amount of money on this earth that would ever bring her best friend back, but if she could put any of the money Mario gave her into an investment account for Molly it would be something. When Sabrina’s mother had died, she had been left with nothing. The stigma of being penniless and at the mercy of others’ charity had never left her, even after all these years. Of course Molly, being under Mario’s protection, would want for nothing, but Sabrina wanted to demonstrate her commitment to her godchild by herself providing her with a nest egg when she came of age. She was determined not to touch a penny of it for herself.

  ‘I can almost hear the ching-ching of the cash register in your brain,’ Mario said. ‘You are doing the sums, calculating how much you will need to set yourself up for life.’

  She sent him a spiteful glance. ‘I want half a million for every year we are married.’

  ‘In Australian dollars or euros?’ he asked without flinching.

  Sabrina tried to recall the current exchange-rate. ‘Um…in euros,’ she said, wishing she had asked for more just to annoy him.

  ‘If you give me your details, I will make sure the first instalment is in there once we are married.’

  Sabrina toyed with the strap of her handbag for a moment. ‘You said earlier you expected me to take your name,’ she said, pausing to glance at him again. ‘Is that really necessary in this day and age?’

  ‘Sabrina Marcolini,’ he drawled. ‘Now that has rather a nice ring to it, does it not?’

  She pursed her lips. ‘I prefer Halliday. It was my mother’s maiden name.’

  ‘You don’t have a father?’

  ‘Not that I know of,’ she said, fiddling with her handbag strap again. ‘My mother never mentioned him. I think he might have been married or something. She seemed reluctant to give me any details. I found a photo once, but when I asked who it was she scrunched it up and I never saw it again.’

  There was a momentary silence.

  ‘You said it was your mother’s name,’ he said. ‘Does that mean she has since married again?’

  ‘No, it means she is dead,’ Sabrina said, stripping her voice of the aching emotion she still felt. ‘She died when I was ten. The train she was travelling to work on was derailed. She was the last to be pulled out of the wreckage.’

  ‘I am very sorry,’ he said. ‘Neither Ric nor Laura ever mentioned it to me.’

  ‘Laura understood how hard it was to grow up without a mother,’ she said. ‘She lost hers when she was a little older than I was, but when her father married Ingrid only weeks later she was totally devastated. She felt she had lost both of her parents right then and there. Her father died just before she met Ric…but I suppose you know all this?’

  He shifted the gears, a frown stitching his brow. ‘I did not really know Laura all that well,’ he said. ‘I only met her for the first time at the wedding, where, if you remember, I also met you. Ric and I went to elementary school together. We remained in close contact even when his family emigrated to Australia when he was fourteen.’

  ‘Did you ever visit him?’

  ‘Yes, I have been to Australia seven times now, and Ric came back to Italy on holidays occasionally,’ he said. ‘My brother was here in Sydney just a couple of months ago.’

  ‘Yes, I read about it in the paper,’ Sabrina said. ‘I saw the name and assumed it was your brother. He was here for a lecturing tour, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, but also to sort things out with his estranged wife.’

  Sabrina felt her brows lift up in intrigue. ‘Oh?’

  He changed the gears again. ‘They were living apart for five years but they are back together now,’ he said. ‘They renewed their vows only a few weeks ago. They are expecting a child in a few months.’

  ‘Are you pleased about their reconciliation?’ she asked, watching his expression for a moment.

  ‘I am very happy for them bot
h,’ he answered after a pause. ‘I might not be a family man, but I recognise when a couple belong together. There was a time however when I thought Antonio would have been better off moving on without Claire, but I am prepared to admit I was wrong.’

  ‘I don’t think it is wise to take sides in a marital dispute,’ Sabrina said, thinking of all the times Laura had let off steam about Ric’s hot-headed stubbornness, only to be madly in love with him the next moment.

  As the silence stretched Sabrina couldn’t help feeling Mario’s brother’s situation explained a lot about his cynical attitude towards relationships. He had seen his brother go through a lengthy estrangement. There was no way he was going to give any woman in his life the same opportunity to put his life on hold. His relationships were on his terms and his terms only. Love didn’t come into it, nor did permanency, even when there was a child involved.

  Mario needed her now to act as a substitute mother to Molly, but she was on borrowed time, and if she had any hope of coming out of this with her heart intact she had better keep reminding herself of it.

  This is not for ever.

  This is not for real.

  She took a mental gulp and added: this is dangerous.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE hotel Mario was staying in was exactly where Sabrina had expected someone of his ilk to stay: top-end luxury, panoramic harbour views, several five-star restaurants, as well as a piano bar and an in-house gym, and a health spa which was second to none in terms of decadent indulgence. His penthouse suite was superbly decorated with the latest in high-street trends, the modern open-plan design making it feel more like a mansion than a hotel apartment.

  The views from every window were breathtaking, even for someone who had lived in Sydney all of her life, Sabrina conceded. The harbour was dotted with colourful yachts and the bustle of passenger ferries criss-crossing the sparkling waters to take commuters and tourists wherever they needed to go.

  Molly was still sleeping in her carrier, which gave Sabrina time to unpack a few things into the spacious wardrobe Mario had told her she was to use during their short stay.

  However, she resolutely turned her back on the massive king-size bed made up in a thousand threads of Egyptian cotton, with numerous feather pillows, and a doona that looked as if it was filled with air. But even so she couldn’t help thinking of Mario lying there, possibly naked; yes, she decided, he would definitely be a naked sleeper, his long, tanned limbs splayed out in any number of erotic poses.

  She gave herself a stern mental shake and concentrated on the job at hand. She had a tiny baby to settle into yet another routine, and in a few days a long-haul flight to another country, a country where she knew only the basics of communication, in spite of Laura’s giggling tutorage over the last few months.

  It struck Sabrina again, then, how surreal the last few days had been. Laura, the one friend who had understood her passion for connection and belonging, was gone, never to return. She kept thinking someone was going to shake her awake and tell her it was all a mistake, that the bodies taken from the wreckage of Ric’s car were not those of him and Laura but someone else, strangers, no one she knew—no one she loved so dearly and would miss for the rest of her life.

  Just like the day her mother had died, Sabrina was alone again…Well, not quite alone. She had Molly, dear, precious little Molly, who was thankfully oblivious to what had passed in the last few days. There would be a day when she would need to be told the truth about her real parents. Sabrina could only hope she would be around to tell Molly what a wonderful and loving mother Laura had been, how much she had loved her baby and had wanted the best for her, leaving her in the care of the two people she had trusted most in the world: her husband’s best friend and hers.

  How ironic that those two people hated each other, even though they both loved the child, Sabrina thought as she folded another pink baby-suit and laid it on the shelf.

  The baby gave a grizzling sound, and Sabrina went over to her, scooping her out of the carrier and cuddling her close, breathing in that sweet infant smell, her hand cupping the black down of that tiny, silky head. ‘Shh, my precious,’ she said softly. ‘I know this is all new to you. It’s all new to me too. We’ll have to take one day at a time until I can think of a way out of this.’

  Mario heard Sabrina’s voice just as he came to the door of the bedroom. So she was thinking of an escape route, was she? Not while he had anything to do about it, he determined. She would likely face a kidnap charge if she left without consulting him as co-guardian.

  Ric’s wife had had nothing but good to say about her friend, but that didn’t mean Sabrina hadn’t personally woven the wool she had pulled over Laura’s eyes. Mario had to admit Sabrina had an innocent look about her that was beguiling to say the least. Ric had obviously fallen for it too; he had told Mario at the wedding how delightful Sabrina was, how charming, how unworldly, shy and self-effacing, even dropping broad hints about what a suitable partner she would make for him. Mario had laughed off the suggestion; he had met plenty of supposedly shy women in the past and in his experience they were the ones who turned out to be the most devious and coolly calculating. It was the quiet ones you had to watch.

  And he had been right about Sabrina. His interesting little conversation with Howard Roebourne the evening before Molly’s christening had confirmed what a go-getter Sabrina was behind that sweet girl-next-door exterior. The woman who had thrown herself into his arms for those few stolen moments had been hot and hungry, her mouth like an open fire, her tongue a flame that had scorched his, branding him with an imprint he had not been able to erase. He could still taste the sweet temptation of her cushioned lips, the way they had moulded so perfectly to his. Their passionate clinch had been interrupted before he’d been able to take things any further, but he was in no doubt he could have had her then and there. In fact, he was in little doubt he could have her any time he wanted to if he put his mind to it. He saw the way she looked at him with those smoky-grey eyes of hers, the sensual need in them unmistakable.

  Mario entered the bedroom and Sabrina turned to face him, the baby cuddled close to her chest. ‘Have you everything you need?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, lowering her eyes to concentrate on tucking in the label of Molly’s baby-suit at her tiny neck. ‘Everything’s…lovely.’

  ‘I have to pick up some legal documents but I should be back within an hour,’ he said. ‘Make yourself at home. If you want anything for yourself or Molly, call room-service and charge it to me.’

  Sabrina hadn’t realised she had been holding her breath until he left, the door of the penthouse closing firmly on his exit. The air in the room seemed to lose its tightness once he had gone; her chest felt less restricted, and her heart rate not so hectic.

  Molly seemed restless and, although Sabrina had fed her, she decided a warm bath might help the little baby to relax. She carried her through to the en suite where twin bowl-like basins were set on top of a highly polished marble bench. She half-filled one basin with warm water and squirted in some baby-bath liquid. Once she had Molly undressed and splashing delightedly in the basin, the little girl’s giggles replaced her grizzles. It was times like these that made Sabrina wonder if she would ever have a baby of her own some day. Being tied to Mario for the next three or four years was hardly going to improve her chances of finding a partner.

  He on the other hand would no doubt continue his numerous affairs, leaving her to hold the baby, so to speak. The way he had orchestrated things meant he was always going to be in control. But then that was the sort of man he was; he was nobody’s lackey, he was as alpha as they came. It still surprised her how much he wanted Molly, however. It just didn’t fit with her knowledge of him as the playboy the press made him out to be. Bouncing a blonde bombshell on his knee rather than a baby was more his thing, but then perhaps he was not interested in fathering his own offspring and was content to have the responsibility for a small child’s upbringing instead.
There was no doubt he cared for Molly, but then how many people could resist a cute, gummy smile and big china-blue eyes?

  Once Molly was dried and dressed and, after a cuddle, back in her pram and sleeping peacefully, Sabrina sat on one of the plush leather sofas and flicked through the hotel entertainment and facilities guide, trying not to think too much about the night ahead.

  The door opened and Mario came in with a briefcase in one hand. He placed it on the coffee table in front of her, clicking it open and retrieving a sheaf of papers.

  ‘You had better read through these before the lawyer joins us,’ he said. ‘He’s meeting us here in a few minutes. He is still downstairs. He had to take a call from another client.’

  Sabrina took the thick pile of paperwork and began reading. It was wordy, as legal documents generally were, but she plodded her way through it, realising that in signing it she was relinquishing the right to any of Mario’s assets acquired prior to their marriage. Pre-nuptial agreements didn’t sit well with her on principle. She’d always reasoned that if a couple was truly committed to making their marriage work there would be no need for a back-up plan. But then, this marriage was hardly what anyone could call a romantic union. It was little more than a business transaction, and for that reason she decided there was no point in making a fuss about signing on the dotted line. She didn’t want Mario’s money; all she wanted was for Molly to have a secure and loving home.

  The lawyer arrived and after brief introductions he went through the document with Sabrina and indicated where she was to sign.

  ‘That’s it,’ the lawyer said once the last space had received Sabrina’s signature. ‘I will speak to the accountant about having an allowance deposited into your bank account, as per Mario’s instructions.’

  Sabrina felt a tide of colour slowly ebb into her cheeks. She wondered just how much the lawyer had been told about the circumstances between Mario and herself. She was being paid to be a wife to him on paper only, and substitute mother to Molly, and yet as far as she could tell there was nothing in the lawyer’s expression that suggested he thought their relationship was anything other than normal. But then perhaps Mario had lied to him as he had done to the press earlier—for the sake of his own reputation, certainly not hers.