He took the cup she had handed him, his eyes meeting hers. ‘Am I to presume you are rehearsing your role as my wife by serving me coffee and asking me such solicitous questions?’
She turned away from the cynicism she could see in his eyes. ‘You can presume what you like. I don’t care how your stupid trip went. I was just being polite.’
‘Do not exert yourself trying to be polite to me, Nina. It does not suit you.’ He took a sip of his coffee but when he met her slightly wounded expression he instantly regretted his terse words. He put the cup down and came across to where she was standing and, taking one of her hands, slowly lifted it to his mouth and pressed a barely there kiss to her fingertips.
She stood transfixed, her heart thudding behind her breast as she held his mesmerizing gaze.
‘Why did you do that?’ she asked.
‘I am not sure,’ he answered somewhat gravely. ‘To tell you the truth, Nina, I sometimes feel when I am with you that I am dealing with two different people.’ He paused for a moment, his dark eyes boring into hers before he added musingly, ‘I wonder which one I will be marrying tomorrow.’
Nina pulled her hand out of his and put some distance between them as she tried to stem her rising panic.
‘I can’t imagine what you mean by that. You make it sound as if I have some sort of multiple personality disorder.’
‘My brother told me many things about you but I am at a loss for I do not see any evidence of those things that disturbed him the most.’
‘Perhaps I’ve changed,’ she said, deliberately avoiding his eyes. ‘People do, you know. Having a child is a very life-changing event.’
‘Undoubtedly, but I cannot help thinking there must be more to it than that.’
‘W-what do you mean?’ She gave him a wary glance, her hands twisting in knots in front of her.
Marc watched the play of emotions on her face, the shadow of worry in her eyes and the way her smooth forehead adopted that slightly anxious look that he found so incredibly engaging. He had spent the whole time he was away thinking about her, wondering what it would be like to sleep with her, to have her long blonde hair splayed over his chest, her slim limbs entwined with his, her body satiated by his. It was as if, knowing she was forbidden to him, his body had decided to crave her relentlessly. He could feel it now, the steady throb of desire pounding through his veins, making him hard just looking at her.
He wanted to hate her, needed to hate her in order to keep her at a distance, but in spite of all his efforts his hatred was slipping away to be replaced by something much more dangerous.
‘I sometimes feel as if my brother was talking about someone else entirely. It just does not add up.’
Nina was at a loss to know what to say in response. She thought of chipping back with a Nadia-type retort but couldn’t bring herself to do it.
‘Have you nothing to say, Nina?’ he asked after another long silence.
She lifted her gaze to his, deciding the only way out of this was a complete change of subject. ‘You said you wanted to discuss our journey to Italy. When do we leave?’
‘We will leave the day after the ceremony. I will get Lucia to pack for you. She will accompany us to help with Georgia.’ He reached for his discarded cup and refilled it from the pot before turning back to her. ‘I should warn you that my father will not welcome you with open arms. He is an ill man who is still grieving. I will try to protect you from any unnecessary unpleasantness but I cannot guarantee things will be easy.’
‘I understand.’
‘The ceremony will be conducted at ten a.m. tomorrow,’ he said. ‘It will be a low-key affair as befits the circumstances.’
Marc watched as she made a movement towards the door as if she couldn’t wait to be rid of him. He considered calling her back but thought better of it. It was asking for trouble to spend too much time alone with her. He was already treading a very fine line and it wasn’t going to take too much to push him over.
As the door closed softly behind her, he wondered if he was more than halfway there already.
CHAPTER NINE
MARC stood at the foot of the stairs the next morning and watched as Nina came down dressed in full bridal regalia. She gave him a defiant look from beneath her veil as she traversed the last steps.
‘You look very nice,’ he said, giving her a wry look. ‘Going somewhere special?’
She twitched her train out of his way as she moved past him. ‘Nowhere special, I just felt like dressing up.’
She was certainly dressed up, Marc thought with an inward frown. She looked absolutely stunning, just as a real bride should look. Why had she done it?
Nina stood silently beside Marc half an hour later as the brief ceremony was performed. ‘You may kiss the bride.’
Her eyes widened in alarm at the celebrant’s words, her palms sticky with sudden nerves as Marc turned towards her, his hands reaching out to lift the gossamer of her veil from her face.
‘I don’t think—’ Her hastily whispered protest was cut off by the descent of his firm mouth towards hers.
She closed her eyes and did her best not to respond to the feel of his lips moving over hers, but it was hard, if not impossible, to ignore the warmth of his mouth heating her in places she didn’t want to be heated. She felt every nuance of his mouth, his firmness against her softness, the way his skin rasped hers as he moved to gain better access.
She could feel her mouth swelling beneath the insistent pressure of his, her tongue moving forward inside her mouth as if seeking the probing warmth of his.
She felt something begin to unfurl deep and low in her belly but before she could identify what it was he lifted his head to look down at her, his dark gaze inscrutable.
She swallowed and turned back to the celebrant, who was smiling at them with indulgent approval.
For better or worse she was now married to Marc Marcello.
The reception was little more than a brief lunch with some of Marc’s colleagues at a private function centre and as soon as it was over Nina changed into one of her sister’s outfits, a silky sheath of a dress which clung to her rather too lovingly. She stood in front of the mirror in the powder room and tried to adjust the fabric so it didn’t reveal too much of her cleavage, all the while doing her best to ignore the nervous flicker of unease in her eyes.
She ran her tongue over her lips experimentally. Her mouth looked the same but it somehow felt different. Her lips felt highly sensitive now, as if the brush of Marc’s mouth on hers had triggered something under her skin, making her want more of his touch. Recalling the way his kiss had felt, his warm sensual mouth and the looming threat of his tongue about to slip between her lips, still made her stomach tilt alarmingly. Even now she could imagine how it would feel to have the rough maleness of his tongue searching for hers to mate with, arrogantly, demandingly—devastatingly.
She remonstrated with herself for craving something she could never have. What was wrong with her? What quirk in her personality made her ache for his desire, his approval, for a smile of affection or even a kind word?
She had no right to desire such things, certainly since it had been her own deception that had brought about their marriage. What would he do if he ever found out?
Once she made her way back out to the last of the lingering guests Nina found herself being escorted to where Marc’s car was waiting, Georgia already settled in her baby seat in the back.
He drove to his house in Mosman, seemingly content not to engage in conversation during any part of the journey.
Nina used the time to get her head around the fact she was now his wife. His legal wife, she reminded herself with another deep lurch of her stomach. In name only, though. The mental reassurance restored some order to her insides, but then she thought about his kiss and her belly did another somersault.
‘I have given Lucia the rest of the day off,’ Marc said as he pulled into his driveway. ‘There is a meal already prepared for later.’
Nina had never felt less like eating in her life. The thought of being alone with him in the big house with only her tiny niece as chaperon unsettled her terribly.
‘I think Georgia needs feeding and changing,’ she said once they were at the front door.
Marc held the door open and she slipped past him, holding Georgia like a shield.
‘I have a couple of calls to make,’ he said. ‘Let me know if you need a hand with anything. I will be in my study.’
She was halfway through feeding her niece a little while later when Marc came into the kitchen. She looked up to see he had changed out of his suit and was now dressed in casual trousers and a long-sleeved dark T-shirt which hugged his broad chest, highlighting his superb physical fitness.
Nina tore her eyes away to concentrate on Georgia.
‘Would you like me to take over so you can change before dinner?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m almost done,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t seem all that interested in this anyway.’ She put the spoon down and got to her feet, reaching for a cloth to wipe up a spill.
‘She looks tired,’ Marc observed as Georgia began to rub at her eyes.
‘Yes.’ Nina twisted the cloth in her hands, lowering her gaze to avoid his studied look. ‘Nina …’
She turned away and scrubbed at the bench once more. ‘I think I’ll give dinner a miss, if you don’t mind.’ She tossed the cloth in the sink and turned back to reach for Georgia in her baby chair.
Before she could unbuckle the clasp Marc’s hand closed over hers and she had no choice but to meet his eyes.
She edged her hand out from under his and straightened to her full height but he still towered over her, his body far too close for her to breathe with any comfort.
‘Even if you do not choose to eat I have things I wish to discuss with you,’ he said.
‘W-what sort of things?’
‘Ground rules, that sort of thing. I do not want you under any misapprehensions as to our arrangement.’ ‘I can’t imagine what you mean by that.’ ‘Can you not?’
‘No.’
‘Living in the same house will mean we will, by necessity, be sharing a certain level of intimacy. I would not want you to get the wrong idea.’
She elevated her chin and injected her tone with sarcasm. ‘Who exactly are you reminding of the terms of our agreement—you or me?’
His eyes hardened a fraction and a tiny nerve began to leap at the side of his mouth as if he was fighting with himself to remain civil.
‘From what my brother told me, it appears you do not always play by the rules. It would do you good to remind yourself of them just in case you are tempted to act outside the boundaries I have laid down.’
‘While we’re speaking of breaking the rules, I thought your kiss was a little inappropriate at the ceremony,’ she put in crisply.
His dark eyes hardened as they held hers. ‘There will be times when we will be required to keep up appearances.’ ‘What do you mean?’
‘We will have functions to attend occasionally and as my wife you will be expected to act in a certain way towards me.’ ‘You mean fawn over you?’ She gave him a disgusted look. ‘I would not have put it quite like that.’ ‘How would you put it?’
‘All I am asking is for you to show some level of maturity when we are in the company of others. Apart from my housekeeper and of course my father, everyone else assumes this is a normal marriage.’
‘I’ll do my best but I’m not making any promises,’ she said.
‘Good. As long as we both know where we stand.’
He turned away and left the room, the door swinging shut behind him.
Nina looked down at her niece, who was staring up at her with dark eyes bright and round with interest.
‘Men,’ she said, scooping her up into her arms. ‘Who can work them out?’
Georgia gave her a wide toothless smile.
‘Maybe I should try that,’ she mused as she cuddled Georgia close. ‘It seems to work for you. You only have to look at him and he melts.’
She buried her face in the soft down of the baby’s dark hair and sighed.
Once Georgia was asleep later that evening Nina had a shower and changed into one of her comfortable tracksuits. Her damp hair was scraped back in a high ponytail, her face free of make-up and her feet bare.
She was on her way down the stairs when the door of the large lounge opened and Marc stood in its frame, his eyes taking in her casual appearance in a sweeping glance.
‘Dressing down for the evening?’ he commented wryly.
‘One gets so tired of haute couture.’ She fabricated a bored yawn, ‘Besides, lugging all that expensive material around sapped my energy.’
‘You look about fifteen years old.’
‘Would you like me to change?’ she asked, giving him a direct look.
‘No.’ He stepped aside to let her in the room. ‘You look fine. Great, in fact.’
‘Thank you,’ she said simply, clutching the small compliment to her gratefully, hoping he wouldn’t see how much he had affected her.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.
‘Something soft,’ she answered.
‘No alcohol?’
‘I don’t drink.’
He gave her an assessing glance as he handed her a glass of sparkling mineral water. ‘A reformed drinker?’ he observed. ‘How very commendable of you.’
Nina wished she had the courage to toss the contents of her glass into his arrogant face. However, given her sister’s behaviour over the last few months, she knew that his opinion, although distasteful, was probably warranted. Nadia had come in far too many times in a state of heavy inebriation for her to be under any illusions about the truth of his comment.
‘There are a lot of things I have changed in my life lately,’ she said instead.
He took a leisurely sip of his drink before responding. ‘Dare I hope Andre’s death has made some sort of impact on you to bring about these changes?’
If only he knew how it had impacted on her!
‘It would be an insensitive person indeed who wasn’t in some way affected by the untimely death of another,’ she answered.
‘Do you miss him?’
Nina stared into the contents of her glass, wondering how Nadia would respond.
‘I try not to think about it,’ she said.
‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘If you thought about it you would have to take some responsibility for it, would you not?’
She kept her eyes down, unwilling to face the venom in his. ‘I did not have anything to do with the death of your brother.’
She heard the sharp chink of his glass as he set it back down and stepped backwards instinctively as he came towards her, his eyes narrowed into dark slits of wrath.
‘Do you think by saying that enough times it will change what you did?’ he asked.
Nina wished she could tell him the truth. The words hovered on her tongue but every time she opened her mouth she thought of Georgia and swiftly closed it again.
‘You have guilt written all over you,’ he said. ‘I can barely look at you without thinking of my brother’s final agonising minutes trapped in that car while he bled to death.’
Nina felt sick.
Marc swung away to refill his glass and she took the chance to draw in a ragged breath, her hands twisting in front of her in anguish.
She knew he was still grieving and was entitled to feel the whole spectrum of human emotions, including anger, but it didn’t help to have it directed solely at her. She didn’t have the hardened exterior of her twin to deal with such heavy criticism. Each time he berated her she felt as if another part of her was dying.
She turned to leave the room.
‘Where do you think you are going?’ he demanded as he put his own drink aside.
She bit her lip and gestured to the door. ‘I think it might be wise to leave you to brood on your own.’
He closed the
distance between them in two strides, grasping her upper arms in his strong fingers, his eyes glittering with fury as they clashed with hers.
‘You think you can get off that easily? I will not let you escape unscathed. I am going to do everything in my power to make you pay for the destruction you have brought to my family,’ he snarled down at her, his fingers tightening cruelly.
Nina did her best to appear unfazed by his anger but beneath the fabric of her tracksuit pants she could already feel the betraying wobble of her legs.
‘I hardly see how marriage to me is going to help your cause. Not unless you’re going to lock me up in some tower and feed me nothing but bread and water,’ she said with a flippancy she was far from feeling.
She felt the bruising strength of his hold as his eyes bored down into hers and, unable to withstand the hatred burning there, she dipped her gaze to the harsh line of his mouth, her tongue snaking out to nervously anoint her lips.
‘Damn you!’ he growled and hauled her roughly against him, his mouth crashing down on hers for the second time that day.
Nina’s gasp of shock and surprise was silenced by the assault. She tried to use her hands to push against the hard wall of his chest but it was impossible to remove that punishing mouth from hers. She was imprisoned by his hold, his body rammed up to hers, imprinting its maleness on the soft feminine curves of her frame.
His kiss became arrogantly intimate, the full thrust of his tongue through the seam of her lips taking all the fight out of her. She felt her legs begin to buckle beneath her and the hands that had pushed him away began curling into the fabric of his T-shirt to keep her upright.
His tongue roved the interior of her mouth in a search and destroy mission that left her floundering in an unfamiliar sea of sensation. She felt the feathering of need run down her spine to render her legs useless, the solid press of his muscled thighs against hers reminding her of his indomitable strength and power.
Her breasts felt heavy and full where they were crushed against him, her lower body on fire where his hard length probed her blatantly, unashamedly.
He deepened the kiss even further, the pressure of his mouth eliciting a response from her she had not intended giving. She reprimanded herself even as she brushed her tongue along the stabbing length of his: he was the enemy, he was danger—but it did no good. Her body was on automatic pilot and acting independently of her common sense.
Latin Lovers: Italian Playboys Page 10