Bound By The Marcolini Diamonds (The Marcolini Men Book 2)

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Once the lawyer had left, Mario began to tug at his tie. ‘I thought I might do a few laps of the pool,’ he said. ‘You can join me, if you like.’

  Sabrina gave him a testy look. ‘We have the custody of a baby, remember? You can continue to have your freedom, but I for one am taking my responsibilities seriously where Molly is concerned.’

  His eyes collided with hers. ‘Are you suggesting I am not taking my responsibilities seriously?’

  She folded her arms across her body. ‘Let’s be right upfront about this, Mario. You hardly have to do a thing where Molly is concerned. That’s why you’ve got me, isn’t it? Your life can continue without interruption while I am left to look after the baby.’

  His tie hung loosely around his neck as he came up close. ‘Forgive me if I am wrong, but I thought your chosen career was to care for babies and small children?’ he said. ‘Or are you being particularly bitchy because you do not like the fact that I have prevented you from getting your hands on my fortune when our marriage is eventually terminated?’

  She glared up at him, desperately wanting to step backwards, but forcing herself to stand her ground. ‘Everything is always about money to you, isn’t it? You think I want anything from you? I hate you. I can’t believe Laura agreed to nominate you in her will as Molly’s guardian. In fact, I can’t even believe Ric suggested it, since he knew you longer than Laura ever did. He of all people should have known how unfit for the task you are. I have never met a more unsuitable father figure in my life.’

  His dark eyes hardened to smouldering black coals of contempt. ‘You are a fine one to talk, Sabrina Halliday. You have the morals of an alley cat in heat, opening your legs for the highest bidder.’

  Her eyes flashed with pure venom, her whole body quaking with rage. ‘At the risk of repeating myself—you are disgusting.’

  He stepped closer, so close she had to flatten her spine against the wall. ‘How about if I were to make a bid for you, hmm?’ he asked in a slow, sexy drawl. ‘One that your greedy little hands will not be able to resist?’

  Sabrina felt the valves of her heart tighten as his warm breath skated over her face. Her breathing became even more ragged; her legs felt like dampened paper, barely able to keep her upright. ‘No amount of money would tempt me to sleep with you,’ she said, flashing him a feisty glare.

  ‘OOh, I do not want you to be asleep when we come together,’ he said with a sinfully sexy smile. ‘Far from it. I want you writhing and convulsing and panting beneath me. That is what you want too, is it not, Sabrina? That is what you have wanted from the first moment we met.’

  Sabrina had never felt such an explosion of heat erupt in her face or in her body before. His words, his incendiary, carnal words, had set off fires all through her, each one singeing her like a burning ember pressed to her skin. Images of their bodies locked together in passion flooded her brain, shockingly erotic images that were disturbing, not because she didn’t want them to happen but—God help her—because she did.

  Denial was her only defence, and as hastily assembled defences went hers was about as unstable as any could be. ‘You are mistaken,’ she said in a voice that was not quite as steady and controlled as she had hoped. ‘I have no interest whatsoever in becoming another notch on your belt.’

  He picked up a few strands of her hair, coiling them like a silky rope around two of his fingers, his eyes still burning down into hers. ‘It is early days, la mio piccolo seductress,’ he said. ‘We are not yet married; perhaps when you have my ring on your finger and your body in my bed you will change your mind.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ she said, still glaring at him, her heart beating like a hyperactive jackhammer.

  He gave her hair a gentle tug, pulling her inexorably closer to the hard ridge of his body. Sabrina felt her breath skid to a halt in her chest, her body set alight by the arrantly male and primal probe of his.

  The atmosphere tightened; the air around them was brooding, dangerous, and suddenly full of irresistible temptation.

  Sabrina felt each ‘thud, thud, thud’ of her heart like a swinging anvil against her chest, her insides quivering at the brooding intensity of his dark gaze as it held hers. She moistened her lips—discreetly, she had thought—but his gaze flicked downwards, the thick screen of his dark lashes giving him a heavy-lidded, sexy look that sent every thought in her head scattering like startled sparrows.

  ‘I could have you right now, Sabrina, and you damn well know it,’ he said in a low, deep tone, his warm, hint-of-mint breath caressing her lips.

  Sabrina’s gaze was mesmerised by his mouth. Those firm lips were tilted in a smile that promised mind-zapping passion, and her lips tingled in response, aching for the pressure of his. All she had to do was stand up on tiptoe to close the gap between their bodies, like she had that first time. His fire would melt her ice with one brush of that commandeering mouth of his on hers.

  Just in time she felt the undertow of commonsense tugging at her, pulling her back from temptation. Oh, she wanted him all right, but that would be feeding right into his cynical opinion of her as a good-time girl after a fast buck and an even faster tumble in his bed.

  With the sort of strength she had no idea she possessed, she pulled out of his hold. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, mentally berating herself for not sounding as determined as she had planned. The trouble was she didn’t know if it was possible to resist him. She was fighting herself more than him, and wondered if he knew it. Desires and needs she had never felt before shuddered through her almost constantly in his presence. Her body felt hijacked, hijacked by a need to be possessed by his hot, hard heat. The heat she could still feel on her skin even though she had put some distance between their bodies.

  He waited a beat before asking, ‘If it is not more money that you want, what exactly is it?’

  Sabrina turned away. ‘I realise you are used to having whatever you want, but I am not for sale.’

  ‘Every woman is for sale,’ he countered cynically.

  ‘Not this woman,’ she said, turning to face him again, her chin up.

  The smile playing about his mouth was sardonic. ‘We will see.’

  ‘I mean it, Mario,’ she insisted.

  He rocked back on his heels, his eyes still holding hers. ‘Do you ever think about that kiss?’ he asked.

  She schooled her features into indifference, although her mouth was tingling at the mere mention of that mind-blowing moment when she had tasted his mouth. ‘What kiss?’

  His smile deepened the grooves either side of his mouth, making him look even more devastatingly attractive. ‘You know what kiss.’

  ‘Oh, that.’ She waved her hand dismissively. ‘I forgot all about it. I was drunk. I can barely remember what I did that day.’

  His dark eyes glinted. ‘Liar. You remember every last detail, don’t you? And you were not drunk—a little tipsy, perhaps, but definitely not drunk.’

  She pulled back her shoulders. ‘I was not in control of my behaviour that day, and for that I am deeply ashamed,’ she said. ‘I promise you, it won’t happen again.’

  ‘You had better be able to control your behaviour in future, Sabrina, for during the time you are in my bed I expect it to be an exclusive arrangement.’

  Sabrina gave him a glowering look. ‘Are you usually so confident in the face of rejection?’

  His glinting gaze teased hers. ‘Always.’

  ‘Then this time you are heading for disappointment,’ she said, wondering if she was tempting fate by sounding so confident when she was anything but. He was so potently attractive; every pore of his strong, male body promised an explosive passion. One kiss had shown her how weak her defences were. Hating him clearly wasn’t a big enough barrier, for she knew if he took it upon himself to capture her mouth right now she would be lost within seconds.

  ‘If you would like to stretch your legs, I can mind Molly for an hour if you tell me what I need to do if she wakes up,’ he offered after a
moment.

  Sabrina met his dark eyes. She wished she knew what was going on behind that enigmatic expression of his. Was he sizing her up, calculating how long it would be before she capitulated to his advances? Did he know how seriously tempted she was? How could he tell what sort of turmoil her body was going through? Was she giving off some secret signal or something?

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said, shifting her eyes just out of reach of his. ‘Her routine is a little out of sorts just now. She might not wake at all, or she might wake as soon as she hears the door opening and closing.’

  He pulled his loose tie away from his neck, coiling it as he stood before her. ‘When we get to Italy I can engage a part-time nanny for the times you feel you need a break,’ he said. ‘There will be the occasional function we will be expected to attend as husband and wife, so we will need the services of a nanny in any case.’

  Husband and wife.

  Oh, how casually he said those words, Sabrina thought with a savage twist of her insides. They meant nothing to him; they were just words. They did not signify for him the relationship as it was meant to be, the relationship she had longed for all her life—one of closeness, security and friendship. Her mother had been denied it and now Sabrina was suffering the same fate. Life was cruel.

  ‘I would also like Molly to learn my language,’ he added. ‘It is important she hears you speak it as well as me.’

  ‘But I am not qualified to teach her,’ Sabrina said, frowning at him in agitation. ‘I can only speak a few words of Italian. I can barely say please and thank you. I’m afraid I don’t have much of a talent for languages.’

  ‘I will organise some tuition for you,’ he said. ‘It is imperative that young children hear both languages from an early age in order to become bilingual.’

  Sabrina shrugged her acquiescence, even though she knew he would be wasting both his money and the tutor’s time. ‘As you wish, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  ‘I would also like you to update your wardrobe,’ he continued. ‘I will make sure you are well funded to do so.’

  Pride stiffened Sabrina’s spine. ‘There is nothing wrong with my wardrobe as it is,’ she said. ‘I like my clothes.’

  ‘In my opinion you would look better without them,’ Mario teased.

  Colour burned in her cheeks as she tried to stare him down. ‘You haven’t seen, and nor will you see, me without them,’ she said. ‘That is not part of the deal.’

  His eyes roved over her, scorching her, making her feel as if she was standing in nothing but her goose-bumped skin. ‘We could always make it part of the deal,’ he said, locking his searing gaze on hers. ‘How about it, Sabrina? How about another five-hundred-thousand euros to warm my bed?’

  Sabrina felt her legs loosen and fought to stand firm. ‘N-no,’ she said, annoyed that her voice sounded so thready.

  He undid the buttons on his shirt. ‘If you change your mind, let me know.’

  She tried not to stare as his masculine chest was revealed: dark, springy hair, tanned skin, sculptured pectoral muscles and a stomach that was flat and rock-hard. She felt her mouth go dry as she forced her eyes back to his smiling ones. ‘What do you think you are doing?’ she asked.

  ‘I am getting undressed.’

  ‘Here?’ The word came out like a tiny squeak.

  ‘Where else do you suggest I do so?’ he asked. ‘This is my hotel room, is it not?’

  Sabrina set her mouth into a prim line. ‘Yes, but—’

  He unhooked his belt. ‘I could always do it in the corridor, but then the manager or other guests might have something to say about that, si?’

  ‘I am sure there are changing rooms on the pool deck,’ she said, swallowing as he heeled himself out of his shoes.

  ‘Yes, I suppose there are.’

  She spun away when she heard the rasp of his zipper. ‘Do you mind?’ she choked.

  ‘Sabrina, we are going to be officially married within days,’ he said.

  She hunched her shoulders, keeping her back turned. Did he have to keep reminding her? She was having enough trouble dealing with the reality of being tied to him, without him figuratively hitting her over the head with it at every opportunity. Was he doing it on purpose to show how he had all the power and control? ‘So?’ she said in a tone that asked ‘what does that have to do with anything?’

  ‘So you will have to get used to seeing me without clothes. I do not want my staff to think I have an unwilling wife in my bed.’

  Sabrina felt her consternation increasing. ‘You said it wasn’t going to be a real marriage,’ she said hollowly, still with her back turned towards him, every vertebrae feeling as if it was being unhinged as she listened to the rustle of his clothes being dispensed with.

  ‘Nevertheless, we will have to share a bedroom from time to time.’

  She spun back to face him, her heart pounding in her chest. ‘What?’

  ‘I have dependable, trustworthy household staff at my villa in Rome, but when we stay abroad I must insist we share a bedroom like any other married couple,’ he said, folding his trousers over the back of a chair. ‘I do not wish the press to make a laughing stock out of me for not having a normal relationship with my wife.’

  Sabrina stared at him in rising alarm, her heart rate soaring. ‘But…but can’t we have separate beds at such times?’

  ‘No.’

  Something about his intractable tone annoyed her beyond measure. ‘You think I am going to sleep with you without a fight?’ she asked, still trying not to look below his waist. He was still wearing his underwear, but with one involuntary glance she had seen enough to make her body crawl all over with traitorous desire.

  ‘I expect you to know which side of your bread is buttered and how thickly, Sabrina,’ he returned. ‘I am paying you to act as my wife, and that is what you will do when I need you to do it.’

  ‘I am not sharing a bed with you and that is final,’ she said with a glittering glare.

  ‘Then I will have to think of a way to convince you to do so,’ he said. ‘Leave it with me. I am sure I will come up with something.’

  Sabrina was immeasurably annoyed that he was so confident she would cave in just like every other woman in his life had before. She was even more annoyed because she suspected he was going to succeed with her in spite of her paltry attempts to hold him off. ‘How?’ she asked with a curl of her lip. ‘By using blackmail?’

  His eyes held hers with steely purpose. ‘If necessary.’

  She drew in a wobbly breath. She was in no doubt of his ruthlessness. He had a hard edge to him that for some inexplicable reason was part of his lethal charm. He was aloof, untouchable, in control and powerful at all times and under all circumstances. ‘I hardly think you could say anything about me that hasn’t already been said,’ she pointed out. ‘My reputation is hardly pristine and worth protecting.’

  ‘I was not thinking about using the threat of exposure to the press as my tool,’ he said. ‘As you say, what would be the point? Everybody already knows what sort of woman you are.’

  Sabrina ground her teeth. Oh, how she wished she could prove him wrong. He would not look down at her in that imperious manner of his then. What would he say if she were to tell him the truth—that he wasn’t marrying a sleep-around slut but a totally inexperienced virgin?

  He would laugh at her, that was what he would do, she reminded herself. It was hardly something you could prove one way or the other, or at least not these days when women were physically active from a young age. It would be her word against her reputation, hardly a level playing-field, given what the press had said about her from day one of the Roebourne affair.

  ‘Not going to deny it?’ he asked in the throbbing silence.

  ‘What would be the point?’ she asked in return. ‘You have already made up your mind about me.’

  He held her gaze for endless seconds. ‘You are rather a surprise package, Sabrina Halliday. Behind that demure façade you pack
quite a sensual punch. I am almost tempted to refresh my memory of how passionate and tempting that soft mouth of yours can be.’

  Sabrina stepped backwards, her heart giving a little skip and trip of alarm. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

  He smiled an indolent smile that creased up the corners of his eyes. ‘Oh, I am thinking about it, Sabrina,’ he assured her. ‘I think about it all the time.’

  Panic beat a rapid tattoo in her chest as he stepped closer. ‘S-stop it, Mario,’ she said a little desperately. ‘Stop flirting with me. That’s what started it, you know—you flirted with me non-stop at the wedding. Don’t do it. It…it annoys me.’

  ‘Do you know what I have been thinking?’ he asked as if she hadn’t spoken, his dark eyes holding hers like headlights aimed on a frightened fawn.

  ‘No,’ she said, running the tip of her tongue over her lips. ‘No, I do not want to know what you’ve been think—’

  ‘I have been thinking about how it would feel to have that soft mouth around me, your tongue licking me, until I—’

  Sabrina pressed her fingers against his firm lips to stop him from going any further. ‘No, don’t say it,’ she said hoarsely.

  His eyes continued to burn their way into hers as he pushed his tongue against the pads of her fingers, the erotic action sending zigzags of electric heat right to her toes and back.

  She pulled her hand away as if it had been burnt, her chest going up and down as she tried to control her erratic breathing.

  ‘We could have fun together, Sabrina,’ he said, still holding her gaze. ‘Lots and lots of fun.’

  She pursed her lips, trying her best to sound firm. ‘I would rather watch paint fade…1 mean dry.’

  He laughed, the deep, rich sound having much the same effect on her as his tongue had against her fingertips. ‘It will be interesting to see if that holds true once we are legally married,’ he said, reaching for his bathrobe.