Latin Lovers: Italian Playboys

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Nina closed her eyes and let herself fly with the feelings he had evoked, her mind going completely blank as wave after wave surged through and over her. She vaguely registered the gasping cries of someone and then, with a shock of sharp awareness, realised they had sprung from her own mouth. She floated back down, her body feeling as if it had been melted into a sun-warmed flow of golden honey.

  Marc waited until she was totally relaxed before he moved over her carefully, his weight supported by his arms so as not to crush her.

  Nina looked up at him wonderingly, her eyes wide and luminous as he eased himself into her with such gentleness she felt like crying.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, stalling for a moment.

  She wrapped her arms around him and drew him closer, relishing the feel of his satin strength stretching her.

  ‘I’m fine … you feel so … so … right.’

  He fought for control as her body gripped him, her words so in tune with what he was feeling it was uncanny. He’d made love many times, perhaps not as often as his less particular brother, but enough times to know when the chemistry was right. But with Nina it was more than just right—it felt perfect.

  He bit down on his tongue when she moved beneath him, her small body fitting so snugly he thought he was going to go over the edge before he could stop himself. He felt the ripples of her muscles along him, the silk of her warmth caressing him as she held him close. He plunged deeper, muttering a silent curse under his breath in case he’d hurt her, but she simply sighed with pleasure, her head going back, her eyes dreamy.

  He kissed her again, relishing the feel of her soft mouth submitting to the invasion of his tongue, the shy darts of her own making him swell even further.

  In spite of her inexperience Nina could feel the struggle Marc was having. She could sense it in the way he held back from her, as if he was unused to letting go completely. She wanted him to let go, she wanted him to groan her name as he filled her, she wanted to soar with him.

  She kissed him fervently, her fingers burying in his thick hair, her legs moving apart even further to make him go deeper.

  He groaned as his thrusts increased their pace and depth, the muscles of his back tightening when her hands moved over them. She wriggled beneath him, her body instinctively seeking the intimate abrasion of his.

  She sucked in a breath when his hand came down to touch her, his fingers seeking the pulse of her body with heart-stopping accuracy.

  Now it was she losing control. She felt it building all over again, deeper and more intense with the swell of his maleness invading her, her muscles clenching at him to keep him hard and hot within her.

  She felt the first tingle, and then the second before the avalanche hit her, stunning her with its totally devastating impact on her senses.

  She felt Marc suddenly tense, the momentary stillness of his body heralding his subsequent cataclysmic plunge into paradise. She felt him empty himself inside her, the spilling warmth of his essence binding her to him in the most primal way imaginable.

  She held him to her, relishing the feeling of him as close as could possibly be, the silence between them settling like breeze-driven blossoms falling softly to the ground.

  She felt him move, the long stretch of his legs against hers reminding her of how intimately entwined she was, and not just physically. Her love for him seemed to fill every space in her body. She could barely take a breath without feeling it tug on her somewhere, a painful little tug that warned her that he did not care for her at all. His priority was Georgia and always would be.

  She turned her head to look at him, the words of her confession already forming in her head, when she realised he was asleep.

  ‘Marc?’ She gave him a little shake. There was no answer.

  She gave a soft sigh and curled back into his warmth; she would tell him in the morning, but for tonight she would remain in his arms where she hoped with all her heart to stay for ever.

  Nina knew something was terribly wrong as soon as she opened her eyes the next morning. The space beside her in the bed was empty and she could hear voices, urgent upset voices, echoing all through the villa. Her eyes went to the baby monitor but it showed no signs of being activated through the night.

  She scrambled out of bed and threw on some clothes and rushed to Georgia’s nursery where she found her niece just starting to wake, her tiny hands unfolding as she heard Nina come in. She gathered the baby close and turned around to see Paloma enter the room with a stricken expression.

  ‘Whatever is the matter, Paloma?’

  The Italian woman sank to a nearby chair, her face ashen. ‘Signore Marcello passed away in his sleep last night. Marc is with him now.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Nina cried.

  ‘It has been expected for a long time but it is so sad,’ Paloma said. ‘For all his faults, all the staff members were very fond of him.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  Paloma gave her a sad smile. ‘You have already made such a difference in the short time you have been here, signora. He died a happier, more peaceful man for having met his only grandchild.’

  Nina found the next few days excruciatingly painful as she watched Marc deal with his grief over his father’s passing whilst maintaining the family business and household affairs. Her plan to tell him of her deception was unthinkable now. He was barely able to cope with the stress of seeing to his father’s funeral arrangements and the steady influx of calls of condolence from all over the world. She did what she could where she could, trying to take some of the burden from him, holding him in bed at night while he lost himself in her arms, again and again, as if their physical union was the only salve he could find to ease the sting of his loss. But during the day he often retreated into himself, reminding Nina of a lone wolf who trusted no one to come too close.

  The day after the funeral Paloma informed her that Marc wished to speak with her in the study where he had been sorting through his father’s papers.

  He looked up as she came in, rising from the desk as she closed the door behind her. She was shocked at how tired he looked, his normally olive skin looked more sallow than tanned and his dark eyes had lines at the corners she hadn’t noticed before.

  ‘You wanted to see me, Marc?’

  ‘I have been doing some thinking. I want to talk to you about Georgia’s future.’

  She felt her heart give a sudden lurch. Surely he wasn’t thinking of a divorce so soon? Perhaps the death of his father had made him realise he could no longer tie himself in a loveless marriage indefinitely.

  ‘W-what about her future?’ she asked warily.

  ‘I want to formally adopt Georgia.’

  She swallowed, hunting for her voice, but when she found it she couldn’t get it past the lump of panic in her throat.

  ‘I want to be her father, not her uncle,’ he went on. ‘Nothing I can do will ever bring her real father back, and in time I will tell her about him, but for now I want to be her father in every way possible.’

  Nina didn’t know what to say. She saw the way Marc interacted with her niece, his dark eyes warm with deep affection as he cradled her in his arms or played with her, murmuring endearments to her in his own tongue. No one could question his ability to be a wonderful father, but she could hardly give the go-ahead for a formal adoption when she wasn’t even the child’s mother. And the thought of telling him now, after all he had been through.

  ‘You don’t seem all that enthusiastic,’ he observed after a too long silence.

  ‘I—I don’t think it’s such a good idea.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘No one can take Andre’s place. He is her father even though he is no longer … here … I don’t want to confuse her with you.’

  ‘Cristo, Nina, I am doing everything a father would do. I am providing for her and protecting her. I do not see why she has to call me Uncle for the rest of her life when all I want is to be her father.’

  ‘You are not
her father.’

  ‘Do you think I do not know that?’

  She met his eyes briefly, trying to think of a reason to put him off. ‘I don’t trust you enough to let you take that step.’

  He let out a sigh of exasperation. ‘I married you, did I not? That’s more than my brother did.’

  ‘You only did it out of a sense of duty.’

  ‘So what is wrong with that? Surely you were not expecting me to fall in love with you and promise you forever?’

  Her eyes fell away from his. ‘No, of course not, but I can’t help thinking you have a hidden agenda. As soon as I let my guard slip you’re going to snatch Georgia away from me. You’ve threatened me with it numerous times.’

  He let out another deep sigh. ‘I can understand your fears and I apologise for threatening you in such a way, but believe me, I had to ensure Georgia’s safety. I had heard so much about you and I did not trust you to look after her in the way she needs.’

  ‘What about now?’ she asked, returning her gaze to his. ‘Do you trust me now?’

  He gave her a studied look before answering. ‘My earlier misgivings have been somewhat resolved. However, I would be happier if I were officially documented as Georgia’s father.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said, buying for time.

  ‘I suppose I will have to be satisfied with that for the time being, but I am warning you, Nina, I will not rest until I get what I want.’

  Nina knew he meant every word. She saw it in the hard glitter of his eyes and the determined thrust of his chin. The only trouble was, she was in the way of him achieving his goal. He could never be Georgia’s legal father, not unless he was to become fully aware of her deception. The web of lies she’d spun was threatening to choke her, each tiny gossamer thread pulling painfully on her heart as she thought about losing not only Georgia but Marc as well.

  ‘There’s something else I wish to tell you,’ he said after a short tense silence. ‘I have a business dinner tonight in Positano. I can’t get out of it—there are people who wish to see me before I return to Sydney. I know it is short notice, but I would like you to come with me. Lucia will mind Georgia; I have already cleared it with her.’

  Nina hesitated.

  ‘Have you got something else planned?’ he asked, his tone sharpening a fraction. ‘No. No, of course not.’

  ‘We will leave at seven. Wear something long; it is a formal affair.’

  * * *

  Lucia gave Nina an approving smile as she came down the stairs later that evening dressed in clinging black satin, her long hair twisted into a casual but stylish knot on top of her head, the escaping tendrils drifting over her cheeks giving her a softly sensual look.

  ‘Will I do?’ She twirled in front of the housekeeper.

  ‘He will not be able to resist you tonight, Nina,’ Lucia said.

  Nina felt her cheeks heating and hastily covered her embarrassment by plucking at a tiny thread on her shoulder strap.

  ‘You of all people know why he married me, Lucia.’

  ‘Yes, but things have changed, have they not? You share his bed like a proper wife. That is good.’

  Nina met the housekeeper’s dark eyes. ‘He doesn’t love me. He hates me for what … for what I did to his brother.’

  ‘But you didn’t do anything to his brother, did you, Nina?’ Lucia asked, her dark gaze never once leaving hers.

  A tiny footstep of apprehension stepped on to a nerve in her spine. ‘What do you mean?’

  Lucia smiled a knowing smile. ‘You might have fooled Signore Marcello but I am not so easily duped. It took me a few days to work it out but you are not Georgia’s mother, are you?’

  Nina’s hand tightened a fraction on the banister. ‘W-what makes you say that?’

  ‘You could not possibly be the woman who seduced Andre.’ ‘W-why not?’

  ‘Because I have met the woman you are pretending to be.’

  Nina stared at her in shock, her hand falling away from the banister. ‘You’ve met Nadia?’

  Lucia nodded. ‘Yes. She came to the house to see Andre. I had stayed later than usual and ran into her. She was everything I had expected her to be: shallow and vain. She didn’t even acknowledge me; I was just a nameless servant to her. Those first few days after you came I was confused. You acted like her, looked like her and even sounded like her. Then I had my suspicions, and when that phone call came and the voice sounded so like you I finally realised what was going on. I have twin sons myself. They are all grown up now but they often used to switch places for sheer devilment.’

  Nina swallowed painfully. ‘Have you told Marc?’

  ‘No. I thought I would leave that to you.’

  Nina caught her lip between her teeth for a moment.

  ‘You have to tell him, you know,’ Lucia said.

  ‘I know.’ She gave the housekeeper an agonised look. ‘I just don’t know how to do it. He has been through so much just lately … I didn’t want to hurt him any more. I feel so guilty.’

  ‘That guilt belongs to Nadia, not you. I suppose she left you with Georgia?’

  ‘Yes. Believe me, it’s the habit of a lifetime.’ She gave a ragged sigh. ‘Our mother was exactly the same: restless, moody, impulsive and irresponsible with a propensity to chase after totally unsuitable men.’

  ‘He will understand,’ Lucia assured her. ‘He is a good man, Nina. He will be good to you once he knows who you really are.’

  Nina wished she had her confidence. Somehow she didn’t see Marc taking the news that well. No man liked to be made a fool of, and she had done that and more.

  She heard the sound of his voice as he spoke to one of the staff as he came down the hall and she sent the housekeeper a tremulous smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. ‘Wish me luck, Lucia.’

  ‘Just be you, Nina,’ Lucia advised. ‘That is all you need to do.’

  The dinner was held in a small but elegant hotel, the function room decked out with fragrant summer flowers and candelabra, the majority of the guests suited men with the occasional wife thrown in here and there. Nina had never felt less like socialising. She stayed close to Marc’s side, her arm linked through his and smiled her way through the many introductions, but her heart wasn’t in it and she couldn’t wait for the night to be over.

  After the meal was over a small band began to play and several couples got up to dance. Nina excused herself from the table and made her way to the ladies’ room, more to escape the prospect of Marc’s arms going around her on the dance floor than any other reason.

  She locked herself in a cubicle and took several calming breaths, garnering up the courage for what she had to say to him as soon as they returned home.

  She suddenly became aware of two women speaking just outside her cubicle, their voices rising above the sound of the hand dryer next to the basins. Though they spoke in Italian Nina was able to understand every damning word.

  ‘I heard she was a topless dancer at a nightclub when his brother met her first. Apparently they had a hot affair for a while but then Andre Marcello decided he had better return to the respectability of his fiancée’s arms.’

  ‘I heard she’d had a baby,’ another female voice said.

  ‘Yes, rumour has it that’s why Marc agreed to marry her. He wants his brother’s child and marrying its mother was the only way to get it.’

  ‘I hope he doesn’t live to regret it. Women like Nadia Selbourne are trouble.’

  ‘Apparently she goes by the name Nina now,’ the other woman said with a little snicker. ‘No doubt she wants to distance herself from her foray into blue movies. Apparently there was some other scandal that was hushed up too. Mind you, she has a great body considering she’s not long had a baby. I wonder if Marc has been tempted to sample her for himself?’

  ‘They’re married, aren’t they?’

  Nina heard the cap of a lipstick tube being replaced.

  ‘Marc Marcello is known to be highly selective
in the women he chooses to sleep with,’ the woman said. ‘He only married her to get access to the child. But you know what they say about men: they don’t think with their brains but what’s between their legs.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind having a look at what he’s got between his legs,’ the other woman said as they left the ladies’ room.

  Nina put her head in her hands and stifled a groan. Could it get any worse?

  Marc rose when she came back to the table, his hand cupping her elbow. ‘Would you like to dance?’

  She wished she could think of an excuse but decided it was better to be on the dance floor with him than sitting at the table with the rest of the party who had heard God knew what else about her sister.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘But I must warn you, I have two left feet.’

  Marc led her to a less crowded corner of the dance floor and drew her closer, his chest brushing up against hers from time to time as he manoeuvred her around the other dancers.

  ‘Andre told me you were a phenomenal dancer,’ he said as he deftly turned her out of the way of another couple.

  Nina quickly untied her feet. ‘I don’t know about that.’ She sucked in a breath as he pulled her closer, her eyes skating away from his.

  He frowned down at her. ‘You have been on edge all evening. What is wrong? Are you worried about having to stay in Sorrento longer than we planned? I am sorry but there was nothing I could do. I have to tie up things here before we can return.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not that.’ She lifted her eyes to his, finally coming to a decision. ‘Can we go home? I really need to talk to you—alone.’

  He slid his hands down her arms and brought her closer. ‘Is that what you want?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He turned her towards the table where his jacket and her bag were and, after a few brief farewells, escorted her towards the exit.

  Marc barely spoke on the way home and Nina didn’t know whether to be worried or grateful for his silence. She sat twisting her hands in her lap, pretending an interest in the passing view of twinkling lights in the distance. He pulled into the driveway a few minutes later and she waited until he came around to open her door, her heart thumping in apprehension as she got out.