Rebecca gave her a look. ‘So you do still love him? I sort of guessed you did. It’s the way you say his name and the look you get in your eyes.’
Claire dropped the comb back on the trolley. ‘All this time I’ve been fooling myself I hate him, but I don’t. I love him. I have always loved him. I was so convinced he’d been having an affair, but he’s always denied it.’
‘Yeah, well, men do that, you know.’
Claire chewed at her lip. ‘I don’t know…Antonio is a good man, Bex. He does a lot of charitable work all over the globe. The more I think about it the more I start to doubt myself. What if I made a terrible mistake? What if he wasn’t having an affair? What if he’s been telling the truth the whole time? What have I done?’
‘Claire, lots of marriages survive an affair, or even the suspicion of one,’ Rebecca said. ‘If he had one it must be well and truly over now—otherwise he wouldn’t be with you, trying to sort things out. Give him a chance. You love him. Isn’t that all that matters?’
‘I’m not sure if he will ever feel anything for me,’ Claire said. ‘You can’t exactly force someone to fall in love with you. If it happens, it happens.’
Rebecca raised her brows and flicked her gaze to the shiny new car outside. ‘Listen, honey, any man who buys a woman a car like that must feel something for her. Just go with the flow for a while. Stop agonising over what you haven’t got and enjoy what you have got. Some men are just not able to put their feelings into words; it’s their actions you have to listen to.’
Claire glanced back at the car outside and sighed. How she wished Rebecca was right—that Antonio was showing her, not telling her how he felt. But then she remembered how much was at stake for him if they were to divorce. Was the car part of the buttering-up process, to keep her sweet when it came to finally putting an end to their relationship?
‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ Rebecca said. ‘Your mother called. She said she’d left a couple of messages on your mobile but you hadn’t got back to her. I think she’s a bit hurt you didn’t call her about getting back with Antonio. Like everyone else, she read about it in the paper.’
Claire grimaced. ‘I turned my phone to silent. I forgot to change it back. Oh, God, what am I going to say to her?’
‘Tell her the truth,’ Rebecca said. ‘Tell her you love Antonio and are working at rebuilding your marriage. She’s your mum, Claire. All she wants is for you to be happy.’
Claire wanted it too—so much that it hurt. But her happiness was dependent on securing Antonio’s love, and unfortunately that was not in her hands.
Maybe Rebecca was right; she needed to learn to go with the flow, to enjoy what she had for as long as it was there to be had. Antonio might have had less than noble motives for bringing about their reconciliation, but perhaps this window of time was her chance to show him how much she loved him—in spite of how he felt about her…
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CLAIRE didn’t go straight back to the hotel from work. She took a detour to the cemetery, stopping to buy a bunch of tiny pink roses first. She cleaned out the brass vase and refilled it with fresh water, arranging the roses with loving care before placing them on her little daughter’s resting place. She felt the familiar tight ache in her chest as she looked at the inscription, hot tears blurring her vision so she could hardly read her baby’s name.
‘Sleep tight, darling,’ she said softly as she finally prepared to leave.
The traffic was heavy on the way back, so by the time she got to the hotel it was much later than she had expected.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Antonio barked at her as soon as she came in the door.
Claire let her bag slip to the floor. ‘I…I was caught up in traffic.’
‘For two hours?’ he asked, his gaze hard as it collided with hers.
She ran her tongue over her lips. ‘How do you know how long it’s been?’
‘I called in at the salon but you had already left,’ he said. ‘I made the trip back here and it only took me fifteen minutes—and that was during peak hour.’
Claire slipped off her coat, trying her best not to be intimidated by his brooding demeanour. ‘Thank you for the car,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely. I took it for a bit of a drive.’
‘Where to?’ The question was accusatory, hostile almost.
‘To the cemetery,’ she said, holding his dark angry gaze. ‘To visit our daughter.’
Claire saw his throat move up and down over a tight swallow, one of his hands scoring a rough pathway through the thickness of his hair as his gaze shifted away from hers.
‘Forgive me,’ he said in a gruff tone. ‘I should not have shouted at you like that.’
‘I would have told you where I was going, but I thought you were going to be late,’ she said. ‘You said so in the note you left for me this morning.’
His eyes came back to hers. ‘We got through the list faster than I expected. One of the patients had to be put off until next week due to a clotting problem.’
The silence stretched for a lengthy moment.
Claire broke it by saying, ‘I need to have a shower. I feel as if I am covered in hair clippings and dye.’ She began to move past him, but he captured her arm on the way past, stopping her in her tracks.
‘Claire.’
She looked up at him, the weariness she could see in his face making her heart melt. ‘Yes?’ she said, barely above a whisper.
‘I have something for you,’ he said, reaching into his trouser pocket with his other hand.
Claire held her breath as he handed her two velvet ring boxes. She opened the first one to find an exquisite diamond solitaire engagement ring glittering there. The second box contained an equally beautiful diamond-encrusted wedding ring. She knew even before she slipped them onto her finger that they would both be a perfect fit.
She looked up at him again once the rings were in place, but his expression was difficult to read. ‘Thank you, Antonio,’ she said softly. ‘They’re truly beautiful. They must have cost you a fortune.’
He gave an off-hand shrug of one of his broad shoulders. ‘They are just props,’ he said. ‘I do not want people to think I am not able or willing to provide you with nice jewellery.’
Claire couldn’t help feeling crushed, but tried not to show it on her face. ‘I am sure no one would think you a neglectful husband after all the money you have spent on me in the last twenty-four hours.’
His eyes studied her for a pulsing moment. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you made a large cash donation to the neonatal unit at St Patrick’s hospital a few weeks after you returned to Australia?’ he asked.
Claire rolled her lips together, wondering how he had found out. She had asked the CEO at the time to keep her name off the records. He had assured her no one would ever know who had made the donation.
‘Claire?’
‘How did you find out?’ she asked.
‘There are some secrets that are not so easy to keep,’ he said, still with that inscrutable expression on his face.
Claire shifted under his steady gaze, absently twirling the rings on her finger. ‘You seem to have made it your business to find out everything you can about me.’ She looked up at him again and asked, ‘Should I be checking over my shoulder for a man in a trenchcoat?’
The line of his mouth grew tense. ‘I would like you to inform me of your movements in future.’
Claire felt her back come up. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘So you can monitor my every move like a prisoner being kept under guard?’
‘I would just like to know where you are and who you are with,’ he said. He paused for a moment before adding, ‘I was worried about you this evening.’
‘Worried?’ she asked with a lift of her brows. ‘About my welfare or about whether I had escaped your clutches?’
His jaw visibly tightened as he held her gaze with the coal-black hardness of his. ‘If you are harbouring the thought of leaving just remember it will only take one phone call to put your brot
her behind bars.’
Claire’s gaze flicked to his mobile phone. ‘You won’t be able to hold that particular gun to my head for ever you know,’ she said. ‘It’s already wearing a little thin, don’t you think?’
He stepped towards her, tilting up her face, his eyes locking once again with hers. ‘As long as it works for now,’ he said, and slowly and inexorably lowered his mouth to hers.
Claire shivered as he deepened the kiss, her arms snaking around his neck, her senses firing on all cylinders. His tongue teased hers into a sexy tango, building her desire for him with each sensual movement. She pressed herself closer, her body singing with delight as she felt his arousal growing hot and hard against her. His hands skimmed down her sides, grasping her by the hips and pulling her even closer.
His kiss became more drugging, the sweep and caress of his tongue making her sigh with mounting pleasure. His hands moved from her waist to the under-sides of her breasts, his thumbs close enough to rub across her nipples in tantalising back and forth movements that brought another whimper of delight from her in spite of the barrier of her clothes.
‘I want you naked,’ he said against her mouth. ‘Now.’
Claire quivered as his hands cupped her breasts. ‘I really need a shower…’
‘Good idea,’ he said, and lifted her effortlessly in her arms, carrying her through to the bathroom. ‘I need one too.’
Claire wasn’t sure who undressed who, but it seemed only seconds before they were standing under the hot spray of the shower, his mouth doing knee-trembling things to the sensitive skin at the side of her neck. She tilted her head and closed her eyes in bliss as his lips and tongue began an excruciatingly slow journey towards the swell of her breasts.
She was gasping by the time he got there, her senses screaming in reaction as his teeth gently scraped her sensitised flesh. He took her in his mouth, drawing on her, sucking and licking until every nerve was alive and jumping with feeling. The rasp of his stubbly jaw against her tender skin as he moved to her other breast made her spine tingle and her legs threaten to fold beneath her.
The steady stream of steamy water intensified the sensual feelings of their bodies rubbing against each other. Claire had showered with Antonio in the past, but she could not remember it feeling as exhilarating as this. Even as her excitement was building he was taking his time, as if he wanted to draw out every second of pleasure, and her body was delighting in it. Her anticipation grew and grew, making her breath come in breathless little pants as he came closer and closer to possessing her.
‘Now…oh, please now,’ she said, pressing herself against his hot, hard heat.
He held her slightly aloft, teasing her with his length at her moist entrance. Just waiting for that first plunge into her tight warmth made her heart race in feverish expectation.
‘Tell me how much you want me,’ he said, rubbing himself against her.
The erotic motion drove every thought but his imminent possession out of her head. ‘Don’t make me beg, Antonio,’ she gasped as he brushed against her again. ‘You know how much I want you. I have never wanted anyone but you.’
His eyes gleamed with male satisfaction as he pressed her back against the shower stall, positioning her for his entry.
Claire closed her eyes as he surged forward, her body accepting him with slick wet heat, her tight muscles clamping around him, drawing him in. He started slowly, but his pace increased until she was breathing as heavily as him, her hands grasping at him to keep her upright as her body began to splinter into a thousand pieces, each one trembling, spinning and quivering in a maelstrom of sensation.
He came within seconds of her, his low, deep grunts of pleasure making her skin pepper all over with goosebumps as he spilled himself. She felt his body shiver under the pads of her fingertips as she ran them lightly over his back, his taut muscles twitching in the aftermath.
Antonio finally stepped back and brushed the wet hair out of her face. ‘I will let you finish up in here,’ he said, running a gentle fingertip over a patch of redness on the upper curve of her breast. ‘I need to have a shave before I take any more of your skin off.’
Claire looked at her breast, the startling contrast of its creamy softness against the dark tan of his finger making her stomach tilt all over again. She drew in a tight little breath as his fingertip brushed over her nipple, and then another as he circled her areola.
His eyes meshed with hers. ‘Did you see your doctor about contraception?’ he asked.
Claire felt as if he had just turned the cold water on. She stared at him, her heart-rate not quite steady. ‘No…I haven’t been able to get an appointment.’
‘Where are you in your cycle?’
‘I’m not sure…’
His eyes were still locked on hers. ‘We have had unprotected sex several times now. Has it occurred to you that you could have already conceived a child?’
She swallowed thickly and, reaching past him, turned off the shower. She stepped out of the cubicle and snatching up one of the big fluffy towels, wrapped herself in it. ‘I thought you said the other day it was not the right time to be talking about babies?’ she said.
He wrapped a towel around his hips. ‘That was then. This is now.’
She eyed him suspiciously. ‘So what’s changed?’ she asked.
‘We are older and wiser, Claire. Things could work for us.’
Claire searched his face for some clue to what he was feeling, but his expression was mask-like. ‘So…’ She paused as she moistened her mouth. ‘So what you are saying is…you want to stay married?’
‘It was never my intention to divorce you, Claire.’
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Because it could prove too costly for you now your father has died and left you half of everything he owned?’
Something flickered in his eyes. ‘That is why you issued me with the divorce papers, was it not?’ he asked. ‘You saw a chance to take me to the cleaners in return for all the ways I had supposedly let you down in the past. Do not forget I saw the newspaper article too, Claire. It mentioned the recent death of my father. You did the sums, but fortunately for me your brother took matters into his own hands.’
Claire glared at him, her hands going to tight fists by her sides. ‘You bastard. The first I heard about your father’s death was when you told me at our first meeting,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘You arrogant, unfeeling bastard. Right from the start you set out to seduce me back into your bed, hoping once I was there again I wouldn’t want to leave. No wonder you’ve been buying me expensive rings and a car and talking about babies. You wanted to make me think twice about leaving.’
‘There is not going to be a divorce, Claire,’ he said, with an intransigent set to his mouth. ‘I want you to be absolutely clear about that—especially if there is going to be a child.’
‘How can you be so clinical about this?’ she asked. ‘This is not some business deal. This is my life you’re talking about. What if I want to spend it with someone else? Have you thought about that?’
His eyes pinned hers. ‘Is there someone else?’
She sent him a resentful scowl. ‘Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one keeping tabs on me.’
‘I am not keeping tabs on you,’ he said heavily. ‘I found out quite by accident you were responsible for that donation. It threw me to think you had not thought to tell me. You allowed me to think you had taken money from my mother to indulge yourself; instead I find that you have been responsible for saving perhaps hundreds of premature babies’ lives.’
‘I didn’t ask your mother for the money. She had written the cheque before she came to see me that night. I am not sure why she continues to insist I demanded it from her.’
Antonio released a sigh. ‘There is no point in going over this again. If you say that is how it happened, then I am prepared to leave it at that.’
Her blue-green eyes widened in surprise. ‘You believe me?’
‘If we are to make a s
uccess of our marriage this time around we will both have to learn to trust each other,’ he said, dragging a hand through his still-damp hair.
She gave him an ironic look. ‘You just accused me of trying to take half your assets. Doesn’t that imply a lack of trust on your part?’
He looked at her for a long moment. ‘Why, after all this time, did you wait until now to ask me for a divorce?’ he asked.
She captured her lip, chewed at it for a second or two before she answered. ‘I believed our marriage to be well and truly over, that’s why.’
Even now Antonio wondered if he could believe her. He had blackmailed her back into his bed, but she was right in saying he couldn’t hold the threat of her brother’s imprisonment over her indefinitely. He should not have held it over her in the first place. Her brother had acted out of a sense of loyalty—the kind of behaviour he had seen in his own brother Mario time and time again.
Antonio’s head was still reeling with the shock of finding out Claire had not used that money for her own gain. Five years of brooding anger had been swept away with a single sentence from a virtual stranger who had known more about his wife than he did.
It was like seeing Claire for the first time; he was discovering things about her he had not noticed before. Like how she kissed with her whole body, not just her mouth. And how gentle her hands were, the way they sent electrical charges through him with the simplest touch. How sweet her rare smile was, how it touched him in a way nothing else had done. How her beautiful eyes glittered with anger and defiance one moment, then brimmed with emotion at the mere mention of their baby daughter the next. She was like a movie or a novel he had not understood the first time around. She had layers and sub-plots that made him appreciate her uniqueness in a way he had never done before.
He had never been comfortable identifying his emotions concerning Claire. He still wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if he’d had a difficult background, or had suffered at the hands of another woman, therefore making it difficult to let his guard down. He just knew he felt something for Claire he had not felt for any other woman.
The Marcolini Blackmail Marriage Page 13