Too Cold To Love

by Doris O'Connor

  ****

  Elise sighed in awe at the scenery around her. They had reached Grosetto and the Giovanni family vineyard, the last leg of their honeymoon. Tuscany was beautiful beyond anything she ever imagined. They drove up to the main house through endless rows and rows of vine. The late afternoon sun bathed everything in a warm glow, and Elise felt as though she was part of some fairy tale.

  In large that was entirely due to Marco's attentiveness. Gone was the arrogant man, and in his stead was a laughing, teasing, incredibly sexy version, who made Elise feel as though she was the only woman in the world that mattered. If he occasionally brooded quietly as though he was miles away, she could forgive him that. She had her own secrets after all, but she would not think about that now. They had three days left, before reality would no doubt come crashing round their ears again.

  The thought made her sigh, and she felt Marco's warm hand on hers, as he glanced at her.

  "Penny for them, cara mia."

  "Oh nothing.I was just wondering what your cousin is like."

  To her surprise he stopped the car and motioned for her to get out. Elise joined him looking out at the slightly rolling hills, criss-crossed with Giovanni vine as far as the eye could see and wondered what the scowl on Marcos's face meant.

  He pulled her into his hard frame, and they stood for a long time, drinking in the scenery, Elise quietly content to just be held. Oh you are turning into such a sap, girl; you really are.

  ****

  Marco watched the rolling hillside with mixed feelings. Bringing Elise here had seemed such a good idea. He could kill two birds with one stone and get the last bit of business finished with Giorgio.

  Now, the thought of having Elise in the same room as his womanizing cousin sent a wave of cold dread down his spine, and he tightened his hold on her involuntarily. She stirred in his arms, and he loosened his hold. He nuzzled into her neck, and smiled at her barely controlled shiver. He loved her responsiveness, and not once had he seen her as much as glance towards another man. But, this was Giorgio, playboy extraordinaire, who women couldn't help but flock to. Most men, too, found themselves under his spell, should he choose to weave it, one reason why the Giovanni vineyard was fast becoming a force to be reckoned with.

  But behind the easy smile and the playboy attitude Giorgio was a shark, with finely honed instincts both in business and in his private life, not to mention some dangerous connections. They had been at loggerheads ever since Marco had decided to sell his pastries to the Beauchamp vineyard.

  "You should be keeping them in the family, not selling them to my competition, Marco." It was a frequently heard bone of contention between the cousins.

  Marco was going to settle it once and for all. His conscience stirred, thinking of his original plan to shamelessly use the distraction of Elise to get his cousin off his case. Now, the mere thought of Giorgio as much as looking at Elise had him want to castrate the man.

  "What's wrong, Marco?"

  Elise turned herself around in his arms and linking her hands behind his back smiled up at him trustingly. Another thing he loved about her. Damn it all to hell, he didn't even believe in love, but the affection shining in those brown eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. In the short time he'd known her, Elise had made him re-evaluate everything he'd ever believed in. How did she do that? He couldn't afford to go soft now, damn it.

  Her teeth worried her bottom lip in that self-conscious way she had when she was unsure of something, and he kissed her nose in an effort to reassure her.

  "I'm just wondering how to get that good for nothing cousin of mine to keep his hands off you, cara mia."

  Elise laughed, wrinkling her cute, little nose at him. "Aren't you rather assuming here that I would let him anywhere near me to get his hands on me? That happened once, and I learnt my lesson, Marco. Besides," and she took his hand, kissing the fading bruises, "I don't think you'd be much good to me with a broken hand, now would you?"

  She threw him a sassy look and ran one hand under his t-shirt. Her fingernails scraped along the ridges of his abs, and he sucked his breath in at the contact. Her hand slipped lower, until she cupped his surging cock. Fuck it, if she kept that up, he would have to drag her behind the nearest vine.

  "O-or," her seductive voice wrapped itself around his senses until his dick pressed painfully against the zipper of his jeans, "are you telling me that this Giorgio is irresistible."

  "He certainly seems to think he is."

  Hell, is that rough voice really yours? Get a bloody grip, man; she'll think you're a right sap.

  Elise's voice was an angry whisper when she shoved him unexpectedly.

  "I told you, I am not her! He may be God's gift to women, but I am your wife, and I would never, ever do that to you. Surely even she wouldn't have had a fling with your cousin? "

  Marco bit back a curse.

  "Cara mia, if I had a penny for any no good for nothing excuse of a male who had a bit of my ex-wife – you get the picture I'm sure."

  Elise's anger evaporated in front of his eyes as she shook her head at him.

  "If he could sink so low, why in God's name are we here? I swear if he as much as looks as me funny, I will not be held responsible for my actions. In fact, can I just slap him?"

  Something shifted inside Marco at the quiet steel behind her soft words, and an invisible weight lifted off his shoulders.

  "I'm afraid you can't, pasticcino, but you may want to hit me in a minute when I tell you why."

  "Okay, spill, why?"

  "I have some business to discuss with him that really can't wait. I'm sorry, I know I said no more business, but whilst we're here—"

  "In that case you'll owe me big time, Marco Giovanni. Can I at least give him a piece of my mind, once you've sorted it all out?"

  Marco drew her back into his embrace. She was so goddamn beautiful when she got this sassy. But before he could say anything else, the high pitched wail of a car engine being gunned to the extremes of its capacity, followed by the loud screech of tires, made him swing around with a groan.

  Giorgio Giovanni unfolded his long frame out of the low slung sports car, ran one hand through his scraggly black hair and with the grace of a panther flashed his smile towards Elise. She stiffened in Marco's arms.

  Marco ground his teeth in frustration at the all too obvious male interest in his cousin's slate grey eyes. Elise whispered in his ear.

  "Relax; you can't kill him.He's family."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Elise sighed to herself hearing the raised voices through the closed door. The cousins were at it again. Marco and Giorgio did not seem to be able to be in the same room for five minutes without arguing. At least they seemed to have reached an agreement concerning Marco's expansion plan. His chain of bakeries was to be converted into a bistro style coffee shop/winery chain with both Giovanni and Beauchamp finest on offer. Giorgio was still in negotiations with some smaller vineyards, and he was going to use his influence to secure their backing.

  Giorgio had bristled at the mere mention of the Beauchamp name, his easy smile vanishing to be replaced with sheer fury when Lucien de Beauchamp's name was mentioned.

  Elise shivered, recalling the look of sheer contempt Giorgio threw towards her when he queried Marco about the bruises on his hand. Marco switched to Italian, effectively shutting her out of the conversation.

  When she asked him about it later in the privacy of their bedroom, he had laughed and told her not to worry, but the smile hadn't quite reached his eyes. When she returned from the bathroom he was engrossed on his laptop. Elise went to sleep listening to the tap tap of the keyboard and woke up on her own the next morning.

  She found him deep in conversation with Giorgio, and Elise made herself scarce after a quick peck on the cheek and another one of those looks from Giorgio. Elise got the distinct impression that Marco's cousin did not approve of her, which was laughable really, considering the man's reputation.

  To top it all
off she'd had an unsettling phone call from Jemima, who was back in London and had sounded – well terrified, was the only way to describe it, really. Goodness only knew what stuff she was involved in now. Elise had hurriedly reassured her that yes, of course she could use the flat, and she would see her when she got back, mindful of a pair of worried, blue eyes and extremely frosty, slate grey ones watching her every move.

  Marco had pulled her on his lap with a smile and a whispered, "Is everything ok, caramia?" His hand had slowly massaged the knots of anxiety in her back, and Elise had taken the coward's way out and simply nodded, all too aware of Giorgio's unsettling smile.

  It shouldn't have come as huge surprise that the old nightmare returned. Elise woke up in a cold sweat, heart pounding, and gasping for breath. She extricated herself out of a softly snoring Marco's arms, threw on a bathrobe, and padded out into the quiet night garden.

  The beauty of the moon-bathed vegetation washed over her, and she took a deep fortifying breath of the herb-scented night air. Just as her agitation subsided the crunch of gravel sent a shiver of unease down her spine. The fine hair on her body stood to attention, and she rubbed the goose bumps off her arms. Giorgio stepped out from behind one of the olive trees, and she clasped her arms around her middle as those shivers took on Tsunami proportions. What the hell was he doing here?

  "And why does Marco's new wife prowl the garden at night time, I wonder? Shouldn't you be in bed with your husband?" Giorgio's grey eyes ran slowly over her body, and Elise took a step back. He matched her step by step, until he was so close, Elise had to crane her neck to look up at him. The contempt in his eyes hurt. What the hell had she ever done to him?

  "That is really none of your business, now is it?" Elise locked her shoulders and stared him down. Fine, he didn't like her; she wasn't too enamored with him either.

  "On the contrary it is. I was too late to stop him from making a fool of himself over the last bitch he married."

  Elise gasped and took a step back at the vitriol in those words.

  "And seeing the way he moons over you, I may well be too late again, but mark my words. I haven't forgotten our last encounter, my dear!"

  "I have no idea what you're talking about. I've never met you before yesterday." Elise whispered the words of denial. Surely not?No, no, no, no, no, Jemima, seriously? What had she done now?Jemima had spent some time in Italy last year; Elise remembered now. A deluge of iciness consumed her and she locked her knees to stop herself from wobbling.

  Giorgio's short, cruel laugh made Elise take another step back, desperately fighting to keep her body from shaking.

  "So who was it then, your evil twin? I admit you had me fooled for a bit. You've changed your hair, and you certainly dress differently, but I never forget a pretty face, let alone one who tried to make a fool of me."

  "I don't really care whether you believe me or not, but I can assure you it wasn't me." Elise's voice lacked conviction, and Giorgio smirked.

  "What's going on here?"

  She spun around at Marco's very quiet voice behind her. His hair was still mussed from sleep, the jeans he had thrown on, unbuttoned at the waist, the knuckles white where his fingers grabbed his front pockets. Elise's heart clenched painfully at the hurt look in his beautiful eyes before an all too familiar mask came down that she hadn't seen since Reims. Damn, damn, damn! She should have told him the truth. He was never going to believe her now.

  "I was just having a quiet conversation with Jemima here, Marco. Now that I remembered where we met before."

  "Her name is Elise, and I fail to see what your encounters with her sister have to do with my wife."

  Marco's arms snug round her waist, but his tense body held her slightly away from him. Elise tried in vain to lean into his warmth. His hands tightened on her hips, and he kept his distance.

  Giorgio shook his head, his smile grim.

  "You certainly know how to pick them, Marco. You and your misguided sense of duty. It's the twenty first century, man. Newsflash – you do not have to marry every woman you sleep with. Though I grant you, this one has talents. She certainly has taught me a few things."

  Elise could not believe what she was hearing.

  "How dare you? I told you that wasn't me. Marco, you know that. I never met your cousin before we got here..." but Marco let go of her. He said something in Italian, and Giorgio looked at her incredulously, whistling low under his breath.

  Oh for goodness sakes. Elise could strangle the both of them.

  "For pity's sake talk in English. It's rude to waffle on in Italian when you know I don't speak it."

  Yet, by golly I'm going to learn.

  Giorgio laughed, and flashed his dimples at her. He said something else to Marco, and the look of disgust on Marco's face sliced right through her. An icy fist clenched her heart, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. Marco grasped Elise by the arm and propelled her back towards their room. He shoved her away from him and shut the French doors very carefully.

  Elise stumbled from the force of his shove, but managed to catch herself before she fell. Adrenaline coursed through her veins; her heart pounded, and she wiped her sweaty palms on her robe. Why didn't he say anything? She forced herself to turn around and face the man, resting his head against the doors. She took a hesitant step towards him, but before she could stretch her hand out to touch those slumped shoulders, he spun round to face her. The murderous expression in his eyes turned the blood in her veins to ice. He clenched and unclenched his fists. The tight set of his jaw and the thin line of his usually full lips showed a man on the edge of his control.

  Shit! You knew he was never going to take this well.

  The silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive like a suffocating blanket of distrust. When Marco finally spoke, his voice held an edge of steel.

  "Care to explain to me what my cousin was just going on about, wife?"

  No, no, no, no, no. Elise didn't seem capable of forming any other thought in her head. That single word just kept bouncing around in there. Hot tears clouded her vision, and she blinked furiously to not let them show. He would just see them as a ploy, not the evidence of her heart splintering into a million jagged pieces. No.

  He was so still, so serious, and so utterly self-contained, she couldn't stand it.

  "I'm waiting, wife, and I want the truth."

  Elise shut her eyes in a vain effort to stop the rising tears and sheer panic threatening to engulf her. She jumped when his hands grabbed her upper arms.

  "Damn it, Elise, I have never laid hands on a woman in my life, but so help me, if you don't tell me the truth." He let go off her so abruptly she swayed. He put some distance between them, the furious string of Italian swear words, punctuated by the fist he drove into the wall.

  They stood facing each other, the tension between them so palpable Elise was surprised the air didn't crackle.

  "I guess it would help to know what Giorgio has told you, so I know what I am being accused of then, wouldn't it?"

  Marco's grim laugh chilled her to the bone.

  "So you can get your lies straight you mean. Damn it, I thought we were past this. I thought..." His voice cracked. He ran one hand through his hair and swore again. Elise's hands itched to brush the lock of hair off his brow and to kiss those worry lines away. She had to make him understand.

  "We are, Marco; I have never lied to you."

  "Really? You're lying to me now – the tickets, the auction – need I go on? Damn it, how I am supposed to believe anything that comes out of your mouth? This is pointless! I'm going to sleep in one of the spare rooms. We're flying home tomorrow. The sooner we get home, the sooner we can sort out custody and—" He stopped to look at her; one eyebrow raised, his hand on the door handle, "the sooner we can put an end to this farce of a marriage."

  The sound coming out of Elise's mouth shocked even her. What was that?

  "For pity's sake woman, stop the act. Though it deserves an Oscar, I give you
that."

  His frosty gaze mocked her, but he stepped away from the door. He took one long stride towards her before he shook his head in disgust, and shoved his fists into his pockets so forcefully one of them ripped.

  Elise couldn't help it; the tears started falling in earnest as the truth dawned on her.

  "But I don't want a divorce, Marco. Please, I have never lied to you, you've got to believe me, it wasn't me, it was—" No, no, no, he's not going to believe me, is he? I've so blown it all.

  "Like I said, ten out of ten for acting, Elise. Too bad I don't care either way. Have your stuff packed by the morning. We'll be on the first flight out of here. I warned you what would happen if you crossed me."

  "But, Marco, I didn't it wasn't me. It was—"

  Marco took another step towards her, his face a grim mask of the teasing man she had grown to love over the last two weeks. Fuck! She'd fallen in love with him. What a stupid, stupid thing to do.

  "Are you taking me for a fool, Elise? Of course it was you, you little lying—"

  Marco froze, and his expression grew so furious, Elise took a step back, suddenly afraid of what he might do.

  "Who the fuck are you, Elise, and who has been looking after my daughter? And stop that sniveling!"

  Elise didn't dare look at him when she whispered, "I'm Elise, and I've been looking after Mimi, since the day I spilled my bag all over your doorstep. I'm sorry. I should have told you then that Jem made me switch with her. I was going to resign the next day, but you wouldn't let me, and then, well, then it was too late."

  Marco didn't say anything. He just stood there unmoving his eyes seeing through her, until Elise put a tentative hand on his arm.

  His low, furious growl gave her goose bumps all over, but his next words cut her heart in half.

  "Don't you ever touch me again, woman."

  And before she could blink, the slam of the door rattling the pictures on the wall had her sinking to her knees, as her world came crashing down around her.