Forbidden Marquis

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Forbidden Marquis Page 6

by Victoria Pinder


  This wasn’t part of what he thought the honeymoon might entail and he instinctively took a step backward.

  She followed him a step but kept her distance. “What about your mother?”

  He’d rather run and never think about that day. He sank his feet into the ground like he needed to defend himself physically as he asked, “Is that one of your questions?”

  She walked up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. His muscles were less tight where she touched. “Yes, but just one. We’ll label this the past question. So please answer.”

  The three question rule should have ended on the plane, but he nodded. He jerked back as a memory of his mother laughing and playing a song on the piano behind Rosalind washed through him, like he saw a ghost. He blinked and turned toward Rosalind as he sucked in a painful breath. “She died in this room. I found her on the piano, hunched over.”

  She clutched her heart with both hands and then opened her arms wide. “I’m sorry.” She hugged him and asked, “What did she die of exactly?”

  Rosalind might be the first person to hug him at all since his mother had died. The faceless women he’d taken to bed certainly hadn’t hugged him. As she let him go, he said, “A heart attack.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She took his hand in both of hers, not letting him go.

  Right. Now that he’d told her, he took a few steps into the room and stared down at the grand piano. “It was a year after she moved me back here from Venice. She’d worked so hard on restoring this room, that I left it exactly how she wanted it.”

  Rosalind rubbed his shoulder like she could massage out the pain of his past. “Well, I don’t play any instrument to disturb the memories, but we’ll need to clean the piano.”

  “Agreed.” He turned toward her.

  This time she slipped away from him but tugged his tie as she walked toward the door. “Now show me to your… our bedroom. I want to take my shoes off.”

  “This way.” He placed his hand on her lower back as they walked into the hallway again.

  He led them down the main hall to the stairwell, where she whispered, “And Stephano?”

  “Yes?” They took the first step up the red carpet that overlaid the marble stairs.

  “I’m almost ready with my next two questions.”

  His lips tingled to kiss her. He wrapped his arms around her hips and said, “Whenever you have them, I’m obliged to answer.”

  “Perfect.” Her eyes fluttered closed.

  His pulse grew steadier as his body hardened. He lowered his head. “That I’m not, but I’d like to please you.”

  Stephano brought Rosalind as close as could be and kissed her thoroughly—the rest of the world disappeared as he finally had the chance to taste his bride.

  Rossie stretched in the bed that was clearly made for comfort. The pillow offered support and she snuggled next to one of the hottest men on the planet. She curled into Stephano and slowly opened her eyes.

  His stare made her insides quake, just from the memories, again. She reluctantly released him.

  He sat and raised his arms to stretch as well. She turned toward him and said, “I’d like to see your estate and that pool.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “After breakfast? Did you pack a swim suit?”

  Parts of her were still sore from last night, but it was a nice sore. Her face felt hot as she remembered their passion though she shook her head. “No. I didn’t think I’d need one in Paris.”

  He brushed his hand down her side and tugged on her hip. She curled her legs around him as he said, “Then order something so you have it for after breakfast.”

  A few problems. This was a foreign country. She had no idea what was close. And it was early in the morning. She raised a brow and asked, “What store delivers that fast?”

  Stephano pulled open a drawer on the nightstand by his bed and lifted a tablet, finding a shopping app before passing it to her. “Here, use this for this morning. Order what you want.”

  While she didn’t speak his language, the translator said one hour shipping. She scrolled through and clicked on a bathing suit and then chose her European size.

  Then the screen read “ordered.” Seriously? This was faster than the two day shipping she was used to. Stephano got up without a word. She put the tablet down and reached for his wrist. “Wait.”

  “What?” He didn’t stop but headed toward the en suite bathroom.

  She held her tongue and slipped on a t-shirt. He came out with clean teeth and she quickly said, “Before coffee, there is something else I want first. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “What’s that?” He stopped. She held up one finger and ran past him and cleaned her teeth too. She needed to smell minty. Then she rushed back.

  Without a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes as she said, “A kiss.”

  He laughed and held her close. “Rosalind, I get the feeling you’re insatiable.”

  “That’s funny.” She puckered her lips. No one had ever thought her sexy like he made her feel.

  A chuckle escaped him though the moment his hard demanding lips met hers, she ached for him, again.

  Perhaps in a decade or more she’d grow tired of him, but right now he sparked parts of her she never knew existed.

  He released her and said, “I have to check on one thing and then we can have the rest of the day together.”

  Hmm. He went to a bureau and took out his laptop, sitting on the bed. She followed him and hugged her knees as she sat beside him. “What’s so important?”

  “I need to check on some investments.” He showed her his spreadsheet that updated with numbers.

  And for the first time in forever, she didn’t just take out her own laptop from her bag and start working beside him. Instead she picked up the tablet and decided to check her social media. “I ordered the swim suit. It’s strange not working on some new business marketing or thinking about my wedding business.”

  As he finished clicking a few buttons that added numbers to his financial program, he asked, “Are you going to give the business to Clara?”

  Give? If Rosalind ended her business, Clara might make the best choice. She was smart, even if she’d had bad luck lately. Was Clara even an option? She’d talked with that duke more than once. Rossie put the tablet down. “I… I’ll ask her at the end of the week, though I’m curious. What’s the deal with your friend Astorre?”

  Stephano closed his laptop as he snorted. “Chelsea was more interested in meeting Astorre too.”

  The name buzzed in her ear like she was supposed to know the woman. She pressed into his shoulder to get his attention and asked, “Chelsea?”

  “The woman I was going to marry.” He stood to put his laptop away.

  Right. Her mind zipped with questions. She handed him the tablet that he also put away. “Tell me about her.”

  He turned and looked down as she still sat on the bed and asked, “Is that one of your questions?”

  Question. She nodded then said, “Wait. I’ll reword it for it to be a good question, but this isn’t part of the big question. Chelsea is who Clara and your friends are going to see today?”

  “Yes.” He sat beside her.

  Right. Now was the time then to ask him about his past. She hadn’t wanted to be jealous but she couldn’t put this off. His mother and now the woman he’d almost married both seemed important. She settled in to sit beside him. “Tell me about how you almost married her but married me instead.”

  He ran his hand on her bare thigh and then patted it as he met her gaze. “I asked open-ended questions so I guess yours is only fair.”

  She nudged his shoulder with her own. “Absolutely, so talk already. Is she pretty?”

  Right. He jumped off the bed and took out the tablet, opening one of his apps. A moment later he gave it to her with a pretty blonde woman’s profile opened. “She’s my friend on social media. Judge for yourself.”

  Rossie scrolled the
pictures and saw Chelsea’s wedding photos to a nice looking man. “Okay, she’s beautiful. So talk.”

  He put the tablet back on the nightstand and returned to her side at a snail’s pace. “Chelsea and I went to school together for years and we shared multiple friends in common.” He sat but was rigid as he continued, “While her parents were wasteful, she had the right heritage and understood how to run an estate.”

  Once he said that, he slumped his shoulders like talking stole all his energy.

  Rossie gently stroked his arm. “You talk like she was just acceptable, but those pictures you showed me make her seem happy and beautiful.”

  He turned toward her and their knees met on the bed. “She’s happy now that she’s married to her vintner and lives on a farm.”

  Good. They were opening up. She held back a smile, and continued to stroke his arm and shoulder. “If she’s in love, then that’s all that matters.”

  He froze. “But you don’t believe in love.”

  Fair. She’d said that. She stopped moving, swallowed and nodded. “I believe we choose our own happiness. It sounds like she found a man that made her happy.”

  “Yes, and it wasn’t me or my money,” Stephano said with his nose in the air, like he’d been personally offended.

  Maybe he’d been in love. Her body stilled at the thought, but she didn’t know for sure. Her eyebrows rose as she asked, “And you’re upset?”

  Stephano scooted closer and played with the hem of her t-shirt. “Not now. Not at all.”

  If she let him take off her clothes, she’d not have the answers. She took his hand and redirected it between them as she asked, “Why? Because you married me?”

  He gave her a wicked smile that read like he remembered every detail about her body. “Yes, that’s true. I traded up.”

  She laughed and pushed her hair behind her ears. “Really? You think that?”

  “I never lie, Rosalind.” He held his hand up like he was sworn into a courtroom.

  She waited for him to relax. “The last person to call me by my full name was my grandmother. She told me to be proud of my name.”

  “Why? And what happened to her?” He stroked her bare knee.

  “She said one day I’d be prettier than a rose.” His touch built a fire inside her though she ignored it and remembered her grandmother, who always dressed in all black. “She died when I was a still a girl.” She stopped his stroking to focus on her questions and leaned closer as she squeezed his palm. “But we’re talking about you and Chelsea.”

  “There isn’t much left to discuss about her.” He frowned.

  Why did he close up now? She lifted his hand to trace her cheek. “Did you kiss Chelsea?”

  “No.” His face went white and his brow wrinkled. “That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”

  Her heart skipped, but she’d not get too enthusiastic. “But you wanted to marry her?”

  Stephano spoke like he was in a board meeting. “She was available and met my qualifications.”

  “Which were?” She wondered if he'd had the same rationale when he’d asked her.

  Or had he just been desperate and anyone filled the need?

  He traced her arm like he read her mind. “Able to do figures in her head, reliable, and well-trained.”

  And Rossie more than met those qualifications, except for the breeding and training. Being a lady sounded awful. “Seems like you wanted to hire a secretary or even get a pet.”

  He brushed against her skin, leaving a warm trail of goosebumps--her body remembered last night, intimately. The second part was true as he said, “Chelsea’s always been a friend so we knew we’d get along.”

  Maybe he harbored feelings he wasn’t ready to face? She took his hand again and said, “But she chose love.”

  He stood and went to get a pair of pants from his closet. “That was something I hadn’t predicted. Like us, she’d said she didn’t believe in the emotion.”

  Rossie went to her bag but realized none of her clothes were there. He pointed to the closet and she followed his directions as she clarified, “It’s not that I don’t believe in the emotion.”

  He pulled on his pants but stopped at the belt. “What do you mean?”

  She tugged on a dress she’d wear to a pool if she had a suit. “As I said, we choose to be happy and who we want to be happy with.”

  “So it’s a choice?” he asked.

  She adjusted her dress around her top. “Maybe it is.”

  A maid knocked on the door. He stepped back. “Well, I’m happy it’s you that I married. This is probably the clothes you ordered.”

  A moment later he brought in a box with the store label on it. Hopefully everything fit. She took the box and fished out her purchase. “I’ll put my swimsuit on. Join me?”

  She tugged on the bathing suit bottom and then squirmed into the shoulders as he watched her in fascination. This covered her so he’d not see her obvious flaws she wanted to ignore as well. Once she'd almost finished, he said, “Absolutely. In whatever pool you choose.”

  She put the dress back on and walked toward the door with a wink. “So many decisions all at once.”

  He gently touched her hips and she turned into his arms. His mouth descended on hers and all her doubts and fears disappeared. He hadn’t been in love before. This was good. Maybe they had a shot at happiness and forever. His kiss certainly made her believe it was possible.

  Stephano walked beside Rosalind as they headed toward the outdoor pool. She wore her white sundress with cheery yellow flowers. He was fascinated at the way she swayed her hips. Rosalind seemed to naturally fit in among the olive trees and the colorful rose bushes that doubled as a butterfly garden.

  Her application of makeup showed off her artistry, though he knew underneath the artifice Rosalind was even more beautiful and kissable.

  His lips tingled at the memory of her warm mouth. As they approached the pool, he laid the towels on beach chairs, side by side.

  She stripped that dress of hers off and tossed it on the beach chair.

  The one piece she wore covered more skin than any suit he’d seen in years.

  In fact, she probably wore more material around her than the last five women in bathing suits if he put the suits all together.

  And somehow her sensual shape made him hard, as he’d seen what she had under the suit.

  She dove into the pool, letting her hair get wet.

  He jumped in after her. As her head came out of the water, she said with a pleased expression, “It’s heated.”

  “Did you expect anything less?” He took his first stroke into the water.

  She stayed where she was and held onto the side as she glanced out at the butterfly garden in the distance. “No. Your estate is dreamy.”

  “Our.” She’d helped him keep this luxury that he'd enjoyed for years. And now they lived here together, so the view would become second nature to her. He took a lap.

  As he finished and began his second, she said, “So tell me more about these parties I’ll host and what the budgets were for them.”

  He stopped and floated next to her as he tried to remember the final budget. “I believe Chelsea spent about one hundred thousand euros on the small Holiday party. I’ll be sure to send you the files I have on it, including who was contacted, when and the prices. She was good at using spreadsheets.”

  Her lips curled at the mention of Chelsea but he kept silent. Rosalind would learn the ropes of being a lady, fast enough. She let out a small sigh and said, “One of the more expensive weddings I’ve been part of had that sort of budget, though it was just makeup and hair. I remember plenty from the wedding coordinator and she might have good advice.”

  “However you want to handle it is fine.” At least she didn’t start in on questions about Chelsea again. Rosalind’s dark hair made a bit of a halo around her when she floated near the sun.

  No amount of artifice could hide her natural beauty. It was in the shape of her eyes
, the contour of her cheek. “Will you miss making people beautiful?”

  She shrugged and then decided to do a lap beside him as she said, “I’ll adjust.”

  They swam back and forth in silence. But once they tagged the wall they’d just left, she asked, “So is that the budget for this year’s party?”

  “I suppose.” Honestly, he hadn’t thought much about any of his parties, too concerned with keeping his title. He offered her a smile. “But if you need to increase it, we’ll talk about it. It all depends on who we’re hosting. I think I kept all of the spreadsheets.”

  She splashed him. “How many of these parties has Chelsea run for you?”

  Right. So they were talking about Chelsea. He turned for another lap but answered her. “She did all three over six years I think. I stopped noticing.”

  She swam next to him but at the other end of the pool, Rosalind asked, “But she wasn’t your girlfriend?”

  “Friend,” Stephano repeated firmly. Chelsea had probably said no to his proposal as he was rather bossy with her. He recognized it now and hoped to not do the same to Rosalind. His own father stated many times that he’d made Stephano’s mother upset when he became bossy, so he needed to be aware. He brushed Rosalind’s arm with his own and said, “Chelsea also threw Matteo’s parties too--we're going to his wedding in a few days.”

  Her face softened. His skin prickled. Had Rosalind been jealous? She then asked, “Was there a shortage of ladies that you both used her?”

  He laughed but turned to take another lap as he said, “Actually yes. There are more men in Avce at the moment.”

  She did the same but once they reached the other end, she said, “If it’s a lot of work as you make it seem perhaps that’s why she chose to live on a vineyard.”

  He stopped and treaded water to be beside Rosalind. Part of him wanted to push her against the wall and take her, right here in the pool. However he knew enough about women to answer her questions so she’d not worry about another woman. So, he leaned closer and said, “Or, her sister wore her down with all that talk about love and her computer program.”

  Her eyes widened and she didn’t respond to his nudge to go back toward the wall. Instead she treaded water where she was and pushed on his shoulder gently. “Wait. Computer program? As in Cassidy Bright?”

 

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