Her Wedding Night Negotiation (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Chantelle Shaw

  ‘When I was a boy I lived in England, in that big old house where you fell in the lake.’

  It hadn’t been the best start, Marco admitted, recalling how he’d scolded Nicky then. He remembered that Leah had been furious with him as she’d sprung to his son’s defence.

  ‘My papà used to take me out on that lake in a boat,’ he’d told Nicky.

  Memories had surfaced of times when he and his father had gone fishing together. Happy memories that he’d forgotten, or maybe buried inside him when his father had died so suddenly. And Marco had realised that he had a lot to tell his son about Vincenzo De Valle—Nicky’s grandfather.

  Two weeks had passed since then, and there had been a huge improvement in Marco’s relationship with Nicky. The little boy no longer shied away from him, and he seemed more relaxed when they were together—which was often.

  Marco had discovered a world of train sets, toy cars and Nicky’s favourite books. Goals had been erected on the lawn so they could play football, and daily sessions in the pool meant that Nicky could now swim without water wings.

  Things were good—but they would be even better if Marco wasn’t so sexually frustrated that he was climbing the walls.

  He glanced over his shoulder to the stern of the motor cruiser, where Leah was sitting with Nicky. The little boy loved going on the boat, and they were returning from a trip to visit the famous Blue Grotto. As they sped over the waves the breeze blew Leah’s red curls around her face and she laughed and caught her hair in her hand, winding it up and securing it with a clip on top of her head.

  She became more beautiful every day, Marco mused. Her skin had gained a light tan, and he now knew that the golden freckles on her nose and cheeks were also sprinkled over her breasts.

  That night she’d come to his room to wake him from his nightmare was constantly in his mind. Her gorgeous body had been so responsive to his caresses, and her soft cries as she’d climaxed beneath his hand had fuelled his desire. He hadn’t trusted himself to be near her and had left the villa early the next morning, having requested his PA to reschedule a business trip to Germany and make it start immediately.

  Since he had returned to the villa the connecting door between his room and Leah’s had remained closed. Marco had spent sleepless nights, his body aching with frustration.

  He knew Leah was aware of the sexual chemistry between them—it was almost tangible. And if she hadn’t been a virgin he might have tried to seduce her into his bed. But her innocence held him back. She deserved more than he could give her, and he sensed that for Leah desire would be inextricably linked with deeper emotions—like love.

  In every other respect she was proving to be an ideal wife. She had accompanied him to dinner parties given by his friends in Capri and Positano, and looked stunning dressed in designer gowns. But Marco preferred her as she was now, wearing frayed denim shorts that revealed her toned thighs and a tight-fitting T-shirt that moulded her firm breasts.

  No bra, he noted, his gaze lingering on the outline of her nipples.

  Desire corkscrewed through him and he tore his gaze from her and concentrated on driving the boat.

  It was not long before they reached the private beach belonging to Villa Rosa, and after he’d secured the boat with a rope tied to a mooring post he jumped onto the jetty and turned to help Leah and Nicky disembark. The little boy ran ahead of them up the steep driveway.

  ‘Nicky, wait!’ Marco called as a delivery truck rumbled past on its way to the house. He glanced at Leah. ‘I’ve left my sunglasses on the boat. You go on with Nicky while I run back for them.’

  He jogged down the driveway and was almost at the bottom of the incline when he heard Leah scream.

  ‘Marco, look out!’

  Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the truck hurtling towards him. He realised in seconds, as it gained momentum, that the driver must have turned the vehicle at the top of the hill and parked, but couldn’t have applied the handbrake properly. The driver was not behind the wheel, and the truck was almost upon Marco.

  With nowhere else to go, he leapt over the wall and swore as he half fell, half scrambled down the rocky cliff before landing on a ledge. From above him he heard a crash, and guessed that the truck must have hit the wall.

  His arms were covered in scratches from the brambles, and no doubt he would find bruises on his body, but he’d been lucky. If Leah hadn’t alerted him the truck would have ploughed into him.

  He hauled himself back up the cliff and hooked a leg over the wall to climb over it.

  ‘Papà! Papà!’

  Marco turned his head towards the house and saw Nicky, chased by Leah, running down the driveway. The little boy was sobbing hysterically.

  ‘Papà!’

  His son’s distress tore at Marco’s heart. Nicky had not cried since the accident, but now tears poured down his cheeks.

  ‘Nicky, it’s okay,’ he said huskily, hunkering down and wrapping his arms around his son’s quivering body.

  Nicky stared at him. ‘You went away and another man came,’ he choked through his tears.

  ‘Do you mean at the hospital? I was there with you, Nicky. But maybe I looked different,’ Marco said slowly, as he began to comprehend why his son seemed afraid of him.

  He glanced at Leah.

  ‘After the accident I had to leave Nicky in the children’s ward while my cheek was stitched up. My face was covered in bandages for days, but it never occurred to me that Nicky might have thought I was a stranger. I must have looked terrifying to a child. It would have been another trauma on top of everything else he’d been through.’

  Marco touched his scar and grimaced when he discovered the blood on his face.

  ‘You’ve got a nasty cut above your eyebrow,’ Leah told him.

  Nicky was still crying, and Marco put his hands on his son’s shoulders. ‘It wasn’t another man at the hospital, it was me, Nicky. My face looks different, but I am still your papà.’

  Marco swallowed hard. He did not find it easy to reveal his emotions, but Leah had been right when she’d said Nicky needed to know that his father cared about him.

  ‘You are my son and I love you,’ he said softly. ‘I will always love you, and everything is going to be okay.’

  This time when he drew Nicky towards him the little boy wriggled closer. Marco pressed his face against his son’s dark curls and felt tears burn his eyes. He looked at the smashed wall and the crumpled front end of the truck and knew he might have been killed if the truck had hit him.

  Life was infinitely precious. He could never regain those first years of his son’s life that he’d missed, but thanks to Leah he had a lifetime with Nicky ahead of him.

  ‘I think we need ice-cream,’ he said gruffly as he stood up and lifted Nicky into his arms.

  He looked at Leah and saw a tear slide down her cheek. Her emotional response evoked an odd tug in his chest. Seeing her with his son for the past weeks had been a revelation. She was compassionate, and her beauty was much more than skin-deep.

  It was becoming harder and harder to remember that she had blackmailed him into marriage. The situation between them couldn’t continue. He was going out of his mind with wanting her.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly as they walked back to the house.

  She shook her head. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

  ‘You saved my life. I didn’t hear the truck because its engine wasn’t running. More importantly, you have shown me how to connect with my son.’

  ‘You’ve won Nicky’s trust by spending time with him. You’re a good father, Marco.’

  Her smile stole his breath, and he felt a tug beneath his breastbone so intense that he pressed his hand against his chest.

  ‘A couple of bruised ribs,’ he lied when she looked concerned. He looked at his watch. ‘The nanny will be arriving soon. I employ
ed Silvana when I first brought Nicky to Capri, and since her father has passed away she is happy to come back to Villa Rosa. Silvana will take care of Nicky while we go to Rome.’

  ‘We?’

  She stared at him and he saw a mutinous expression replace her smile. They had reached the house, and Nicky ran inside. Leah stood in the entrance, framed by the profusion of white roses that clambered around the front door. Once again Marco pressed his palm to his chest and felt the erratic thud of his heart.

  ‘Assumpta has told me that you are going away for the weekend. I wondered when you were going to mention it,’ she said pointedly. ‘But I’m not coming with you.’

  ‘The annual charity ball sponsored by De Valle Caffè is the most prestigious event in the company’s calendar, and it attracts the support of businesses and celebrities from all over Europe. You are the new wife of the CEO and it will look odd to the board members and shareholders if you are not with me. If there is any hint of a scandal the paparazzi will hound us, and negative publicity could harm the company.’ Marco ignored the glitter in Leah’s green eyes. ‘In fact, I think we should practise showing a united front to the cameras.’

  ‘Practise how?’ she said suspiciously.

  ‘Like this.’

  He lowered his head until his lips were centimetres from hers and watched her green eyes darken to the colour of a stormy sea. Something held him back from claiming her mouth.

  A memory slid into his mind of that time when she had suggested he might force her to sleep with him. She’d dented his pride then, and now he needed to be sure she was caught in the same web of desire that held him prisoner.

  ‘Marco...’

  The husky plea in her voice shattered his control and he brushed his mouth over hers gently, taking his time to savour her soft sigh of surrender. Only then did he coax her lips apart with the tip of his tongue.

  She tasted like nectar, and the heady fragrance of her perfume mingled with the scent of the roses and teased his senses. Passion exploded between them as he deepened the kiss until she melted against him and her lips clung to his.

  The sound of someone shouting made him reluctantly lift his head, and he glanced up and saw the delivery driver running around the corner of the house.

  Leah’s face was flushed, and Marco ran his knuckles over her peachy skin. ‘That wasn’t bad,’ he drawled, deliberately teasing her to stop himself from throwing her over his shoulder, caveman-style, and carrying her to his bed. ‘But you’ll need more practice at kissing if you’re going to convince the public that you are besotted with your husband.’

  He laid his finger across her lips. He could see from the furious glint in her eyes that an angry retort was about to burst forth. She sank her teeth into his finger and he cursed.

  ‘Wildcat. Be ready to leave in an hour.’

  Hunger was a vicious beast, clawing in his gut.

  ‘And know this: bite me again and you’ll have to be prepared for the consequences, beauty.’

  The party was the most spectacular event Leah had ever attended and then some. It was held in the ballroom of the most exclusive hotel in Rome, and the great and the good of the Eternal City had gathered there beneath glittering chandeliers to drink champagne and feast on exquisite canapés.

  An auction had raised a phenomenal amount of money for various charities, and Marco had given a moving speech about the work of a charity for homeless children which was close to his heart.

  Leah’s gaze had been riveted on him as he’d stood there on the podium. He looked breathtaking, in a black dinner suit that moulded his muscular frame. But she wasn’t the only woman to be fantasising about loosening his bow tie and ripping open the buttons on his white silk shirt, she’d realised, when she’d noticed the admiring looks that practically every female in the room sent him.

  But he was hers—in public, at least.

  She was shocked by the fierce possessiveness she felt. He’d told her that they must act like happy newlyweds and she had thrown herself into the role, offering no resistance when he slipped his arm around her waist and held her close against his side as they strolled around the room and mingled with the other guests.

  While a buffet was being served in another room the hotel staff cleared the ballroom of the tables where people had sat for the auction. Soon the band struck up, and Marco swept Leah into his arms and led her onto the dance floor.

  ‘You have never looked more beautiful than you do tonight,’ he murmured, his warm breath stirring the tendrils of curls that framed her face.

  She wore the front of her hair up and had left the back loose. The white rose that Marco had given her was tucked into her hair. Her heart missed a beat when he wound a long curl around his finger. She wanted to say something flippant in response to his compliment, but the gleam in his eyes as he looked intently at her made her feel beautiful.

  Her strapless sea-green silk evening gown felt sensuous against her skin as Marco whirled her around the ballroom. The diamond earrings dangling from her earlobes and the diamonds at her throat must be worth a fortune. She had protested about wearing them when he’d presented the jewellery to her after she’d emerged from her bedroom in the penthouse suite of the hotel where they were staying for the weekend.

  ‘Humour me, hmm?’ he’d drawled as he’d fastened the clasp of the necklace and pressed his lips to the side of her throat.

  A quiver had run through her and she’d accepted that trying to resist him was futile.

  She wanted to make love with him. It was as simple and uncomplicated as that.

  When she’d watched that delivery truck roll down the driveway and realised that Marco was unaware of the danger he was in she had been terrified. In those horrifying moments her thoughts had clarified into a stark truth. She could no longer deny her desire for him.

  Tonight’s glamorous party was his world, not hers, but their hunger for each other made them equal.

  She did not fool herself that he loved her—which was what her mother had done every time she’d begun another affair. And Leah assured herself that she had more sense than to lose her heart to Marco. But she liked him, and she felt safe with him. Not safe in the way her passionless relationship with James had made her feel. Marco had shown her that her difficult childhood had made her strong and that she could handle a sexual relationship with him. That sometimes being in control was about knowing when to let go.

  The tempo of the music changed to a slow number and Marco pulled her close, so that she felt the hard ridge of his arousal nudge her thigh. He smelled divine: of spicy cologne and another indefinable scent that was excitingly male. With a faint sigh she rested her head on his chest and heard the powerful thud of his heart. He brushed his lips over her shoulder, sending a shiver of reaction through her.

  She realised that he’d been flirting with her all evening, taking every opportunity to caress her with a hand stroking her bare back or his mouth brushing over her cheek. He was clearly intent on seducing her. But instead of pulling away from him she pressed her pelvis against his and heard him groan.

  ‘You are driving me insane,’ he said thickly. ‘How much longer are you going to make me wait, cara mia?’

  Fire licked through her. ‘Well, I suppose we should stay here in the ballroom until the party ends at midnight as you are the host...’

  ‘Like hell we should.’

  He stopped dancing and clamped her to his side as he strode towards the exit.

  ‘Won’t you be missed?’ she murmured when he ushered her into a lift.

  ‘I don’t give a damn.’

  He leaned back against the lift wall and pulled her towards him, one hand splaying over her bottom, the other tugging at his bow tie. His urgency heightened her anticipation and her pulse quickened when the door opened directly into the penthouse suite.

  She’d expected Marco to lead her straight
to the master bedroom, and butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach. But he strode across the sitting room and opened the sliding glass doors that led out onto the balcony. Rome was spread out before them, a blaze of lights against an inky sky.

  Leah followed him over to where he stood beside the balcony rail.

  ‘Why did you want your inheritance so badly?’ he asked. ‘Was it really to get on the property ladder, as you told me?’

  His curiosity took her by surprise. She bit her lip. ‘Does it matter why?’

  ‘You must have had plans for how to spend the money if you were prepared to marry a virtual stranger to get your hands on it,’ he said harshly. ‘But everything I’ve learned about you indicates that you are not money-driven.’

  He gently captured her chin between his lean fingers and tilted her face up so that her gaze collided with his.

  ‘Leah, do you trust me?’

  Her breath left her on a long sigh as she realised that she did. Trust did not come easily to her, but Marco had been devastatingly honest when he’d confided that he did not know how to be a father to his son.

  ‘I needed the money for my mother. I’ve done my best to look after her for most of my life,’ she admitted.

  Marco said nothing and his eyes did not leave her face.

  ‘Mum is...an alcoholic. She’s always liked a drink, but after my brother died she started drinking heavily.’

  Leah tensed, expecting Marco to be disgusted or judgemental—which were the reactions she’d had in the past if she ever spoke about her mum’s reliance on alcohol.

  ‘It must have been difficult when you were growing up—having to be responsible for a parent when she should have been the one taking care of you,’ he suggested.

  She nodded. ‘I felt helpless. I didn’t want anyone at school to know that my mum was different to other mothers, or that a normal weekend for me was to find Mum passed out on the bathroom floor. I used to get up early to take the empty vodka bottles to the bottle bank so that no one would see me.’