‘Si, mia bella.’ He hardly ever spoke Italian outside his family, but Imogen was unleashing something within him and Marco feared she was bringing down the barriers he’d long ago built, barriers he wasn’t sure he wanted down. ‘We can leave.’
He took her hand and wound his way through the throng of guests, wanting only one thing: to have Imogen to himself.
‘Your mother has just arrived.’ Imogen’s words brought him to a halt and he couldn’t help but tighten his hold on her hand.
Mirella had dressed for the party, so surely everything must be okay with his father, but still stinging panic shot through him. As he watched his mother survey the room, looking for either him or Bianca, he was aware of Imogen pressing against him, her free hand touching his arm.
‘We should go to her.’
He nodded and sighed. ‘Yes, we should.’ Then he led Imogen over to his mother and watched her face light up in happiness as she saw them heading towards her. Guilt hit him like a rock hurled from close range. His mother believed things between him and Imogen were real, and that belief made her happier than he’d seen her look for a long time. The stress of Emilio’s illness had taken its toll on the once vibrant woman.
‘There you are.’ Her smile brightened further, intensifying Marco’s guilt. He knew deep down that all his mother wanted was for him to be happy and settled in life. He was angry at the man she’d married, angry that he’d kept him at a distance all these years. At least now things made more sense. He just wished he knew why it had taken so long to tell him. Did his mother know how much she’d pushed her son away from the man she’d married?
‘How is your husband?’ Imogen asked as she felt the air prickle with tension. Marco’s face had hardened with what she could only assume was annoyance and she wondered how the revelation of his parentage was really affecting him.
‘He’s quite well, thank you,’ his mother said and turned her attention to Marco. ‘Your arrival has certainly helped, and this little one—’ she looked down at Imogen’s tummy with pure affection before continuing ‘—this little one will bring the family together.’
Awkwardness filled Imogen. How did she respond to that, knowing all she did now about the revelation Mirella had only recently made to Marco?
‘If the baby is a boy it will be the next Silviano heir no matter who my father is.’ Marco’s words snapped out. ‘I have no secrets from Imogen. She knows the truth.’
Imogen sucked in a breath as hurt rushed across the older woman’s face. She had no idea why she’d kept Marco’s natural father a secret for so long, but she must have had good reason.
‘He will indeed.’ His mother focused her attention on Marco. ‘But that isn’t what matters to us, Marco. We are just happy you have found love.’
Marco frowned but his mother continued, ‘Please don’t blame Emilio any longer. Your father has been very sick and who knows how long this reprieve will last?’
Marco pushed his fingers through his hair and glanced down at Imogen, his gaze locking on hers, and for a moment it was only the two of them. The chatter of the guests, the music, everything, even his mother’s presence, melted away. That powerful connection they’d shared on the island was there and in her eyes he could see her asking him to escape with her.
‘Please try, Marco.’ His mother’s words seemed to jolt Imogen back to the party, back to the tension between mother and son.
Marco glanced at his mother then down at Imogen, smiling and feeling the tension leaving his face. ‘I will; for Imogen and the baby, I will.’
His promise only embroiled Imogen deeper into the deception, and his guilt increased as he saw how uncomfortable she felt as his mother addressed her. ‘Come and see us at the hospital again.’
‘Yes, okay...’
‘We will be at the hospital for a scan tomorrow. We’ll call afterwards,’ Marco interjected, and Imogen looked up at him. She’d smiled at his mother, played along with all he’d asked her to do, but those moments when she looked at him as she had done on the island made him feel that he was worthy of affection—maybe even love.
Imogen said goodbye to his mother as the reality of all he was asking of her charged through him. Annoyed at the direction of his thoughts, Marco strode out of the ballroom, not slowing his step, wanting to get away from the deception he now forced on Imogen.
‘Slow down, Marco. I have heels on.’ Imogen’s voice held a note of panic and he stopped.
He turned to her, his guilt intensifying. ‘I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said as she reached out to him, and all he wanted to do was hold her, show her that the attraction which had brought them together was still there, despite the reality they were now in.
‘Imogen,’ he said huskily as he drew her to him, his palms sliding down her back, sparking off the passion which had been simmering beneath the surface all evening, ‘I want you. I want to lose myself in the passion between us.’
He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, wanting so much more than just a kiss. Her body trembled as she clung to him. The idea of loving and being loved scared him. Passion was what he needed, he thought as her lips moved beneath his, coaxing that passion higher, her body begging his as it had done on the island. He wasn’t afraid to give her that. He wasn’t afraid to allow the passion to burn between them once more.
She moulded closer to him as his hands moved to her waist, then upwards in a trail of exciting exploration. Beneath his fingers, her nipple hardened, and she sighed into his mouth. He deepened the kiss as their desire rose.
A man coughing as he passed by made her pull away from him. She looked up at him, her blue eyes now dark with the same need which fired in him. ‘Take me home, Marco,’ she whispered as she snuggled against him.
‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure.’ He took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders.
He put his arm around her and walked towards the elevator, and just like that night on the island the passion which had just erupted between them once more had only one conclusion.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE SLOWLY BUILDING desire between them was gaining in strength as Marco and Imogen entered his apartment. The ride home in the back of his car had been a test of his control he didn’t want to have to endure again. The lights of New York had danced around the interior of the car, lighting Imogen’s lovely face, showing her apprehension and making her look far too innocent. It had been this that had stopped him from continuing with what they’d started in the hotel right there in the back of the car. Now the elevator took them to his apartment and the need for restraint on the desire which thudded around his body was almost over.
Marco opened the door and stood back to watch as Imogen crossed the living area and went to stand at the windows, taking in the night-time view of New York which was wrapped seductively around them. He shut the door and stood there, watching her. She was seducing him, and she didn’t even know it. Or was it that he was losing that vice-like grip on self-control? Not a comfortable thought and he focused his attention beyond the sexy image she created, trying to take in the view. It was as if he was seeing it for the first time—or maybe seeing it through Imogen’s eyes.
‘I’d like to go there,’ she said absently, as if she wasn’t even aware she’d spoken.
He moved a little closer, enjoying just watching her. The beautiful blonde looking over the sparkling lights of the city he’d always known as home. ‘Where?’
‘The Empire State Building.’
Marco fought with an onslaught of emotions as he turned his attention back to Imogen. He’d never taken women on dates like that, never pandered to their wishes, for fear of making them think there would be hope of a meaningful relationship. He’d always thought it safer to keep himself and his emotions locked away. But something had changed. He didn’t want to be like
that, be that hard and cold man, with Imogen. He wanted to make her happy. ‘Then I shall take you there.’
He didn’t look away from her, the iconic building forgotten as he took in the way the gold silk of her dress clung to her body. She looked so very sexy, and from the back he would never know she was carrying their child. He moved closer to her and stood right behind her, lowering his head to press a trail of kisses along her bare neck.
‘Marco.’ She whispered his name, sending the flames of desire within him leaping higher. His name had never sounded so sexy and he’d never wanted a woman so badly. She leant her head back against him and looked up, her lips parted as if begging him for more kisses.
He resisted the temptation and instead kissed along her shoulder, bare apart from the thin strap of gold silk. He traced his fingers down the same line he’d kissed, but when they met the strap he slid it slowly from her shoulder and then focused his kisses on the other shoulder. Again, he slid the strap down. He wanted the soft gold silk gone from her body, wanted to slowly pull down the zip at the back of the dress.
‘I want you, Imogen.’ He breathed the words over her skin, flames of desire licking ever higher around him. ‘Tonight.’
He’d do anything to feel that freedom he’d found the night he’d spent with Imogen on the island. It had been like no other affair he’d had, and he wanted to experience exactly that feeling all over again. He drew in a sharp breath, calling on his strength of control. He didn’t want to push her too far, too soon.
Her breath shuddered from her. ‘I want that too, Marco.’ He knew she was answering his statement, but he was sure she was agreeing to his thoughts.
His fingers touched the bare skin of her back as he took hold of the zip and began sliding it downwards, exposing the soft, creamy skin of her back. Unable to resist, he lowered his head and pressed his lips at the top of her spine, kissing lower and lower as he pulled down the zip.
Imogen gasped as she clutched the gold fabric to her breasts, but the arching of her spine left him in no doubt she didn’t want him to stop. Just as she had been that night on the island, she was as driven by desire as he was.
She turned round slowly. ‘Do you always seduce women in your window for all to see?’
‘Never.’ He shook his head as the image of her burnt into his mind, into his soul. Erotically wild needs rushed through him and all he could think about was seeing her naked, seeing every bit of her, seeing the swell of their child in her belly. ‘Let the dress go, Imogen. It’s just us and the night sky up here.’
A teasing smile played at the corners of her mouth and the Imogen he’d brought to New York gave way to the sexy Imogen he’d made love to on his island. ‘Are you certain about that?’
‘Absolutely,’ he said as he stepped back to take in the sexy picture of her, hair tousled by his kisses, face flushed by desire, as her dress clung to her amazingly curvy body.
His pulse beat wildly in his head as her smile widened, became more provocative and sexy. ‘In that case...’ she teased.
She let the fabric slip from her grasp and it slithered like liquid gold to the floor, leaving her naked apart from the skimpiest panties he’d ever seen and sexy gold strappy heels. Her arms still covered her breasts, but their fullness couldn’t be hidden completely as his gaze travelled down her body, over her breasts and to the soft swell of her tummy.
‘Dio mio,’ he said hoarsely, unable to move, unable to take his eyes from her as hot lust stabbed through him. If he touched her now there would be no stopping. ‘Bellissima.’
‘I don’t understand Italian,’ she said softly as she walked towards him. ‘But I do know what that means. Nobody has ever called me beautiful before.’
‘Then I will say it again, Imogen. You are beautiful.’ He stepped closer as he fought for control, taking her face between his hands, kissing her lips and trying valiantly to ignore the fact that she was virtually naked as he spoke against the fullness of her lips. ‘So very beautiful.’
‘If you say it again I might begin to believe you.’ The laughter in her voice, the teasing edge to it, was in complete contrast to the woman who stood looking up at him, vulnerability in her eyes. He’d known vulnerability like that when he’d stood before his father as a young boy while the reprimands rained down. He’d been desperate for his father’s love.
Did Imogen feel the same? Was she desperate for him to love her? He dragged the heated desire back to the fore, refusing to think about anything but taking Imogen to his bed once more. She moved towards him, calming his wild emotions, and he allowed the passion and desire to reign, quashing any need for thoughts.
‘You are beautiful, Imogen.’ He spoke softly, almost in a whisper, as his lips brushed over hers. The sentiment of the moment was getting to him, dragging him back to that place Imogen had taken him to on the island.
* * *
Imogen held her breath as Marco whispered those precious words against her lips. Her body trembled. She was almost naked. Marco’s seductive look had made her bolder than ever, empowered her, sweeping away all the doubt over her curvier figure Gavin’s betrayal had induced. The memory of Gavin’s mocking words had made her far too self-conscious when she’d first met Marco, but now she could so easily fall under Marco’s powerful spell. It would be all too easy to pretend this was more than just lust, to fall in love with him, and she was afraid that if she didn’t hold on to her wayward emotions she would do just that.
‘Marco.’ She whispered his name quietly, allowing herself to dream, to believe they were back on the island, back in their moment of escape. If he did love her, would it be like this?
She drew in a breath as he laid his palm over her tummy, over the small bump of their baby. She looked at him, his head still lowered, his eyes downcast. Just as a shimmer of panic began to set in he looked at her, his dark eyes full of an emotion she couldn’t fathom, the expression on his face like none he’d worn before. It was as if the reality of the baby was sinking in for the first time. She hoped that when they went for the ultrasound scan tomorrow he would be as overwhelmed by it all.
‘My baby,’ he whispered as he kept his hand over her tummy.
‘Our baby,’ she said as she looked at him, wishing they could stay in this moment for ever, that reality didn’t have to return. ‘And we will be able to see it tomorrow.’
‘Yes,’ he said as he pressed his lips to her tummy. ‘But right now I have more important things to think of.’
She looked up at him warily, trying to maintain some dignity after her uncharacteristic boldness of moments ago. ‘What things?’
‘Taking you to my bed.’ He kissed her softly, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close, forcing her to stop shielding her breasts and wrap her arms around his neck. ‘Taking us both somewhere we can escape once more. Lose ourselves in each other as if nothing else matters.’
It was what she wanted more than anything else, to be in his arms once more. She wanted him with a powerful need she’d never known before and if one more night of escape was all he was offering she would take it, hoping more would follow, hoping the baby she carried would be everything he needed and bring them together.
Emboldened by her need for him, Imogen forgot her state of undress, forgot everything but savouring this moment. ‘Then take me to your bed, Marco. I want to escape with you.’
In one swift movement Marco swept her off her feet and carried her across the vast apartment with its masculine minimalist furnishings. At the door to his bedroom, a room she hadn’t been in, he paused. ‘I could be doing this for real if you agreed to my suggestion.’
‘Doing what for real?’ She laughed, wondering where the seriousness had suddenly sprung from.
‘Carrying you over the threshold.’
‘You do that when you get married.’ She laughed again, but the expression in his eyes warned her he wasn’t laughing.
‘Don’t spoil it,’ she whispered as the intensity in his eyes deepened. If he loved her, if he really wanted her, then she would marry him, but it wasn’t love which brought them together now, it was lust. Not the foundation for marriage she wanted. ‘I don’t want to talk about this now.’
‘I have ways of making you change your mind.’ The charm was back, the intensity diminished, as he laughed and opened the door. ‘First I will kiss you all over.’
‘Sounds delicious.’ She giggled, shocking herself at the sound. ‘Then what?’
‘I will make passionate love to you all night. I’m going to prove to you that the fire of passion that burns between us, along with the baby you carry, means we should be married.’
Imogen’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to make love to her. Did that mean he felt something more than just sexual attraction for her? Hope flared brighter than any firework, bringing down the wall she’d built around her heart since Gavin had betrayed her trust, her love, so terribly.
‘The fire of passion?’ she repeated huskily as he stood by the bed, holding her so that she could feel the thud of his heartbeat. Was he trying to say that he could give her what she wanted?
He laid her on the bed and stood up to pull at his tuxedo jacket, discarding it by flinging it to the floor, hastily removing his tie and shirt. She watched as he leant over her, his biceps flexing as he kept his weight off her.
He began the same torment he’d unleashed that night on the island, kissing down her throat, down to her breasts, which ached for his touch. He then moved lower and pressed a gentle and lingering kiss to her tummy and she closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotions.
She lay with her eyes closed and felt the bed dip as he moved away. If she opened her eyes now it would be like going back to that moment on the beach, to the moment she’d tried to imagine that this was what it would be like to be loved by him. She’d fooled herself then with the fantasy of being with him and even though she knew it wasn’t enough, that they couldn’t build a marriage on that, she could so easily fool herself again tonight.
A Ring to Claim His Legacy Page 10