Читать книгу Bound By The Marcolini Diamonds - Melanie Milburne, Melanie Milburne - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

THE hotel Mario was staying in was exactly where Sabrina had expected someone of his ilk to stay: top-end luxury, panoramic harbour views, several five-star restaurants, as well as a piano bar and an in-house gym, and a health spa which was second to none in terms of decadent indulgence. His penthouse suite was superbly decorated with the latest in high-street trends, the modern open-plan design making it feel more like a mansion than a hotel apartment.

The views from every window were breathtaking, even for someone who had lived in Sydney all of her life, Sabrina conceded. The harbour was dotted with colourful yachts and the bustle of passenger ferries criss-crossing the sparkling waters to take commuters and tourists wherever they needed to go.

Molly was still sleeping in her carrier, which gave Sabrina time to unpack a few things into the spacious wardrobe Mario had told her she was to use during their short stay.

However, she resolutely turned her back on the massive king-size bed made up in a thousand threads of Egyptian cotton, with numerous feather pillows, and a doona that looked as if it was filled with air. But even so she couldn’t help thinking of Mario lying there, possibly naked; yes, she decided, he would definitely be a naked sleeper, his long, tanned limbs splayed out in any number of erotic poses.

She gave herself a stern mental shake and concentrated on the job at hand. She had a tiny baby to settle into yet another routine, and in a few days a long-haul flight to another country, a country where she knew only the basics of communication, in spite of Laura’s giggling tutorage over the last few months.

It struck Sabrina again, then, how surreal the last few days had been. Laura, the one friend who had understood her passion for connection and belonging, was gone, never to return. She kept thinking someone was going to shake her awake and tell her it was all a mistake, that the bodies taken from the wreckage of Ric’s car were not those of him and Laura but someone else, strangers, no one she knew—no one she loved so dearly and would miss for the rest of her life.

Just like the day her mother had died, Sabrina was alone again… Well, not quite alone. She had Molly, dear, precious little Molly, who was thankfully oblivious to what had passed in the last few days. There would be a day when she would need to be told the truth about her real parents. Sabrina could only hope she would be around to tell Molly what a wonderful and loving mother Laura had been, how much she had loved her baby and had wanted the best for her, leaving her in the care of the two people she had trusted most in the world: her husband’s best friend and hers.

How ironic that those two people hated each other, even though they both loved the child, Sabrina thought as she folded another pink baby-suit and laid it on the shelf.

The baby gave a grizzling sound, and Sabrina went over to her, scooping her out of the carrier and cuddling her close, breathing in that sweet infant smell, her hand cupping the black down of that tiny, silky head. ‘Shh, my precious,’ she said softly. ‘I know this is all new to you. It’s all new to me too. We’ll have to take one day at a time until I can think of a way out of this.’

Mario heard Sabrina’s voice just as he came to the door of the bedroom. So she was thinking of an escape route, was she? Not while he had anything to do about it, he determined. She would likely face a kidnap charge if she left without consulting him as co-guardian.

Ric’s wife had had nothing but good to say about her friend, but that didn’t mean Sabrina hadn’t personally woven the wool she had pulled over Laura’s eyes. Mario had to admit Sabrina had an innocent look about her that was beguiling to say the least. Ric had obviously fallen for it too; he had told Mario at the wedding how delightful Sabrina was, how charming, how unworldly, shy and self-effacing, even dropping broad hints about what a suitable partner she would make for him. Mario had laughed off the suggestion; he had met plenty of supposedly shy women in the past and in his experience they were the ones who turned out to be the most devious and coolly calculating. It was the quiet ones you had to watch.

And he had been right about Sabrina. His interesting little conversation with Howard Roebourne the evening before Molly’s christening had confirmed what a go-getter Sabrina was behind that sweet girl-next-door exterior. The woman who had thrown herself into his arms for those few stolen moments had been hot and hungry, her mouth like an open fire, her tongue a flame that had scorched his, branding him with an imprint he had not been able to erase. He could still taste the sweet temptation of her cushioned lips, the way they had moulded so perfectly to his. Their passionate clinch had been interrupted before he’d been able to take things any further, but he was in no doubt he could have had her then and there. In fact, he was in little doubt he could have her any time he wanted to if he put his mind to it. He saw the way she looked at him with those smoky-grey eyes of hers, the sensual need in them unmistakable.