Читать книгу Latin Lovers: Italian Playboys - India Grey, Kate Hardy - Страница 15

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.

Suddenly it was over. He stepped back from her so abruptly that she almost stumbled, her body not quite up to the task of standing without his solid support.

His dark eyes glittered dangerously as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth in an action that intended to inflict shame and embarrassment.

Nina refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how close to the mark he’d come. Instead, she schooled her features into contempt and, reaching for a tissue from her sleeve, lifted it to dab at the swollen tenderness of her bottom lip where her tongue had tasted blood.

She saw his eyes follow the movement of her hand and was surprised to see a dull flush slowly ride up over his cheeks.

‘Forgive me,’ he said heavily. ‘I did not intend to go so far as to hurt you.’

She sent him a scathing look as she tucked the tissue away once more. ‘How far did you intend to go, enough to double my allowance?’

His mouth hardened. ‘I have no intention of handing you anything more than the sum we agreed on. I told you before—our marriage will not be consummated.’

‘Fine by me,’ she snapped. ‘But I suggest you run that past your body for clearance first.’ She gave his pelvis a pointed look before returning her eyes to his. ‘Somehow I don’t think it’s quite got the message.’

His eyes locked on to hers, the air between them crackling with palpable tension.

‘I would advise you, Nina, not to push me too far. You might not like the consequences.’

She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘You’ll have to try a little harder if you want to frighten me. Don’t forget I’m well used to dealing with ruthless men.’

‘I could ruin you,’ he reminded her. ‘One exclusive from me and even a city as large as this will not be big enough to hide your shame.’

Nina felt the pinpricks of fear at his chilling threat. If only she knew what her sister had been up to she might have been able to call his bluff. But she daredn’t risk it, not with Georgia’s welfare to consider.

‘I hardly see what benefit it will be to you to assassinate the character of the woman you have just married,’ she pointed out.

‘I will not act on my threat unless your behaviour falls short of the mark.’

‘How very gracious of you,’ she taunted. ‘But what about your behaviour? Does that, too, come under scrutiny?’ She touched her fingertip to her bottom lip and gave an exaggerated wince.

‘You have my word it will not happen again,’ he said, dragging his eyes away from her full mouth. ‘Not unless you ask me for it, of course.’

Nina’s eyes widened in defiance. ‘How absolutely typical! You can’t control your impulses so you blame me for inciting them!’

‘You were being extremely provocative.’

‘Oh, yeah? Well, you were being a complete and utter barbarian!’ she threw back. ‘It’s no wonder your brother had all the ladies after him. Unlike you, he at least had a certain level of finesse.’

She stalked past him towards the door, but before she could open it his hand came from over her shoulder and slammed against the door to keep it shut.

She could feel him behind her, the heat of his body seeping into hers as surely as if he were touching her again. She kept her gaze fixed on the woodwork in front of her, unwilling for him to see the bright glitter of unshed angry tears in her eyes.

‘Let me go, Marc. I want to check on Georgia.’ To her dismay her voice sounded defeated, nothing like her usual defiant tone.

His hand left the door to touch her on the shoulder, the gentle but firm pressure turning her to face him.

He was so close she wasn’t game enough to draw in a deep breath in case the expansion of her lungs brought her breasts into contact with his chest once more. She raised her eyes to his, doing her level best to control the tremble of her chin as she fought to bring her wayward emotions under control.

‘Don’t make me hate you any more than I already do,’ she said, her voice not much more than a thin whisper of sound.

He held her gaze for so long that Nina felt as if he were seeing right through her flesh to who she was underneath.

To whom she really was.

To what she really felt.

Just as her composure was threatening to crack he dropped his hand from her shoulder and stepped away from her. She watched in silence as he turned to his discarded drink and, tipping back his head, downed the contents in one deep swallow.

Nina took an unsteady breath and eased herself off the flat plane of the door.

‘Marc?’

He turned to look at her, his eyes unreadable as he removed a piece of paper from the pocket of his jeans and silently handed it to her.

She took it with nerveless fingers, unfolding the paper to find it was a bank receipt documenting that several thousand dollars had been deposited in her account that day.

Her allowance.

She stared at it for a long time without speaking, not even noticing when Marc left the room, shutting the door with a soft click behind him.