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

by MELANIE MILBURNE

She shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’

  He twirled the contents of his glass as he held her gaze. ‘I can order some champagne, if you would like it.’

  A rosy hue came into her cheeks and she shifted her eyes away from his, although her voice was curt. ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Have you decided what you would like to order?’ he asked.

  Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she flicked through the menu. ‘I’ll just have some soup and a roll,’ she said, briefly meeting his gaze.

  He raised one brow in a teasing arc. ‘Surely you need more than that to satisfy you?’ he said. ‘You strike me as a woman of—shall we say—robust appetites.’

  Sabrina felt her face grow hot at his double entendre. ‘No, on the contrary, I am not one for over indulging,’ she said, forcing herself to hold his satirical look.

  He smiled a knowing smile. ‘Only when you think you can get away with it, right?’

  She set her mouth. ‘Are we talking about food…or something else?’ she asked.

  ‘If Roebourne is to be believed, you are insatiable,’ he said, still idly twirling the spirits in his glass. ‘He said he had trouble keeping up with you.’

  Sabrina silently ground her teeth. She could just imagine the light she had been painted in, one that made her look like a predatory trollop with no regard for anyone but herself. However, instead of defending herself, this time out of a perverse desire to annoy him she fed right into his assumptions with her response. ‘I am surprised he admitted his failings in that regard. Don’t all men like to portray themselves as full-blooded studs no matter what their age?’

  A brittle look came into his eyes as they held hers. ‘What did you see in him besides his money, I wonder?’ he asked. ‘He’s at least thirty or forty kilograms overweight and as ugly as a hatful, as the saying goes.’

  ‘Unlike men, who place a high value on looks, women are much more accommodating when it comes to choosing a lover,’ Sabrina clipped back. ‘We choose a mate on other criteria.’

  ‘Money being the primary one,’ he inserted with a curl of his lip.

  Sabrina gave her head a little toss. ‘I am the first to admit that money is not everything, but it does show a man who is going somewhere. No woman wants to be tied to someone who can’t enhance her life in some way. What would be the point?’

  ‘What about love?’ he asked.

  She raised her brow. ‘Love, Mario?’ Her tone was just shy of scoffing. ‘I thought you didn’t believe in love. I thought for men like you it was all about the physical, that you would never allow emotions to have a foothold.’

  ‘Just because I have not felt love for a sexual partner does not mean I am incapable of ever feeling such an emotion,’ he countered. ‘The point is I have not met anyone who has that effect on me as yet.’

  ‘What happens if you were to meet such a woman during the period of our marriage?’ Sabrina asked, trying to ignore the strange, tight little ache she felt in her chest.

  He put his glass down on the nearest surface before returning his eyes to hers. ‘That would indeed be a difficult situation to be in,’ he admitted. ‘I have made a commitment to Molly, and yet I do not think Ric or Laura would have wanted me to sacrifice my own happiness indefinitely.’

  ‘What if I meet someone?’ she asked, deciding to play devil’s advocate.

  The hardness in his eyes turned to black marble. ‘I would expect you to do the right thing by Molly,’ he said. ‘We both have to make some sacrifices until she is of an age where she can understand the circumstances of her life.’

  ‘It’s easier for you as a man,’ Sabrina said. ‘You can hold off having children of your own for years and years to come. I am twenty-five years old. I don’t want to have children in my mid-to-late thirties. I would have liked to settle down in the next couple of years and have children while I am young and fit and healthy.’

  ‘I understand that, and that is why this marriage between us is a temporary arrangement,’ he said. ‘By the time Molly is of school age, you will still be young enough to get on with your life.’

  Sabrina frowned at him. ‘But I’ve already told you, I can’t just walk away from Molly like that. And what if the woman you eventually fall in love with resents having someone else’s child to bring up? I know of several friends who have had to deal with stepmothers or stepfathers who made their lives absolutely miserable, especially when they have their own biological children. They always felt like the odd one out, like they didn’t belong.’

  ‘I will do my best to ensure Molly never feels like that,’ he said. ‘In any case, I do not envisage falling in love with a woman who does not also love Molly. As far as I am concerned, that child is a part of my life now and will be until the day I die.’

  ‘It’s very commendable of you, Mario, but life doesn’t always work out the way you think it will,’ she said. ‘Love isn’t something you can switch on and off. It happens, and it can happen between people who are totally unsuitable in other ways.’

  ‘I am not planning on complicating my life in such a way,’ he said. ‘For the time being my life will continue as it has done. I work hard and I play even harder.’

  ‘Will you be discreet with your playing hard, or am I to constantly be made a fool of?’ Sabrina asked with an excoriating look.

  ‘That, of course, is entirely up to you,’ he said with an arcane smile.

  She eyed him suspiciously. ‘What do you mean?’

  His dark gaze ran over her lazily, slowly undressing her as each second throbbed past. ‘I would have no reason to make a fool of you by playing around if you were willing to entertain me at home.’

  Sabrina felt her spine tingle at his indecent proposal, even though the rational part of her brain baulked at what he was suggesting. ‘You think I would agree to be used by you?’ she asked.

  ‘For a price, I think you would do just about anything,’ he responded cynically.

  ‘I think you need to extend your social circle,’ she said crisply. ‘You have obviously been mixing with people who are not representative of how normal and decent people behave.’

  ‘Come now, Sabrina,’ he chided her. ‘You can hardly describe yourself as normal and decent after what you have done. You have been accused of tearing apart a loving family for a roll in the sack with a man almost old enough to be your father.’

  Sabrina mentally counted to ten. Think of the children, she told herself. It was not their fault they had a sleaze of a father and a cold and vindictive mother. ‘In spite of what you might think, I am quite choosy in whom I sleep with,’ she said. ‘And you, I am afraid, do not qualify.’

  Before she could move to counteract it, he suddenly pulled her up against him with such force the breath was knocked right out of her. She felt every hard ridge of him against her; his belt-buckle dug into her almost painfully, his fingers on her upper arms were like steel clamps and his eyes were like black diamonds as they clashed with hers. ‘You are doing this deliberately, are you not?’ he ground out savagely. ‘Teasing and taunting me with this touch-me-not game. There is of course a rather coarse name for a woman like you. Do I need to remind you of it?’

  Sabrina pulled back against his grip but it was impossible to gain any leverage. She felt fear climb up her spine on long, spidery legs, her heart picking up its pace and her mouth going completely dry. ‘Y-you’re hurting me,’ she gasped, even though it wasn’t quite true. Her traitorous body wasn’t feeling pain; it was feeling desire, hot and strong. The blood was thundering through her veins, making her breathless. Her breasts were swelling, her belly turning to liquid, and her legs trembling as his strong ones bracketed them either side. She felt the bulge of his erection swelling against her, the erotic reminder of all that had pulsed between them from the moment they had first met.

  He wanted her.

  She wanted him.

  And in spite everything she felt about him Sabrina suspected it might not be too long until they both got what they wanted.
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  ‘You would open your legs right here and now if the price was right. But I am not going to pay you any more than I have already agreed on.’

  ‘I don’t want your filthy money,’ she spat at him, eyes blazing with hatred.

  ‘But you want me,’ he said, his fingers tightening a fraction. ‘I can see it in your eyes and I can feel it in your body. When we do it, Sabrina, you will not forget it in a hurry, I can assure you. Your body will hum and throb for days afterwards—I guarantee it.’

  Sabrina felt her head spin at his sensual promise. She could feel his potency, the dangerous heat of him burning its way through her paltry resistance. She was in no doubt making love with him would be totally unforgettable. One stolen kiss had shown her how vulnerable she was to him. She had practically melted in his arms, just like she was doing now. He had only to bring his mouth down to hers now and she would be his willing slave. It galled her to think she was so weak where he was concerned. What was wrong with her? Was she turning into the sensual witch he took her for?

  ‘Admit it, damn you,’ he continued in the same rough tone. ‘You want me to beg like all the others have done. That is how you get off, is it not? You like to have power over the men in your life. That way, you can get what you want from them.’

  Sabrina was way out of her depth, but doing her best to struggle to the surface. ‘You are wrong, Mario,’ she said somewhat shakily. ‘I don’t want any such thing.’

  ‘So innocent,’ he said with the customary cynical twist to his mouth. ‘Even Ric fell for it, and he was usually so adept at identifying a fraud.’

  ‘I am not a fraud,’ she said. ‘I am just like you—trying to do the best thing for Molly under incredibly difficult circumstances.’

  He put her from him almost roughly. ‘I have no idea why Ric and Laura nominated you as co-guardian,’ he said. ‘But I swear to God, if you put one foot wrong you will never see that child again. Do you understand?’

  Sabrina held her ground but on legs that were trembling. ‘You can’t take her away from me,’ she said in a voice that was nowhere near as strong and determined as she had intended.

  His eyes burned like a laser beam into hers. ‘You just watch me.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SABRINA made herself scarce until their room-service order arrived. Her stomach was in knots of tension and she wondered if she would be able to do the light meal justice with Mario sitting opposite her looking at her in that contemptuous way of his. The injustice of it all was stinging. She had nothing to be ashamed of, other than her blindness to the devious ways of men like her previous employer. If only she had suspected Howard Roebourne’s motives from the start she could have done something to prevent the shame of being labelled as the seductress who had shattered the harmony of a supposedly loving family. Imogen Roebourne had latched on to Sabrina as the culprit, not for a moment listening to her denials of any wrongdoing. Imogen had been determined to switch the anger she should have been feeling towards her wandering husband on to the babysitter instead. Sabrina still cringed when she thought of how poorly she had been portrayed in the press. She was almost grateful now she had no living relatives to witness the shame that had been dumped on her. Her foster parents now lived interstate, and rarely kept in touch, but if they were to hear of the rumours Sabrina knew they would automatically assume she was the guilty party.

  Sabrina’s mother had been a young single-mother in the days when it had still been a stigma to have no man claiming paternity of the child. Sabrina had never known who her father was in spite of her longing to do so, especially since her mother’s death. The sense of not belonging to anyone by blood made her longing for a family of her own all the more intense. From a very young age she had dreamed of building a relationship with a reliable and faithful man, bearing his children and raising them in a home that was happy, loving and secure.

  Her hopes and dreams would have to be shelved now, for she could see no way how she could abandon Molly—and, attractive as he was, Mario was not the sort of man to settle down and agree to provide Molly with a stepbrother or sister or two. He was intent on doing the right thing by Molly, certainly, but only as far as it didn’t interfere with his easygoing playboy lifestyle. That was where Sabrina came in. She would be the wife on paper, the substitute mother, until he found someone more suitable to occupy his bed. Whether or not his future bride if he chose to have one would also occupy his heart was not something Sabrina could decide. It was hard to imagine Mario Marcolini falling in love. He didn’t seem the type to allow himself to be vulnerable to anyone. There was an element of the bad boy about him, a fast-living playboy who was untameable in every possible way. And the way he had orchestrated everything so far made her realise how seriously outclassed she was in dealing with him.

  But, while Mario was wild and worldly, Sabrina on the other hand desperately wanted to find someone who would love her and protect her—someone who would be there for her no matter what, the sort of man who would look at her with love shining in his eyes, adoring her for who she was, not for how she looked. Not that her looks were anything to be ashamed of. She knew she was fortunate to have inherited her mother’s slim figure and model-like cheekbones. Her grey eyes were thickly fringed with dark lashes that hardly needed the boost of mascara, and her skin was fine and clear apart from a light dusting of freckles on her nose.

  But men like Mario Marcolini wanted perfection in their partners, and she was hardly that. She didn’t possess anything glamourous in her wardrobe, which he had already alluded to; nor did she have expensive make-up in her cosmetic bag, nor did she wear handmade designer shoes. She was a chain-store girl out of necessity, not choice, although she knew how to highlight her best features when the situation called for it. No wonder Mario thought she was trash, she thought. Men born to privilege could be appalling snobs when it came to mingling with the other half, and she was very definitely the bottom end of the other half.

  The room-service attendant arrived with a loaded trolley, the aroma of delicately prepared cuisine stimulating Sabrina’s flagging appetite.

  Mario tipped the attendant, and once the door closed after the young man’s exit Sabrina felt the intimacy of the set-up all over again. She was alone in the luxury suite with him, a delicious meal set before them with no possibility of interruptions by other guests or staff like there would be in a restaurant. A bottle of wine was on ice, the scene set for seduction if he put his mind to it.

  She chanced a glance at him, trying to read his expression. She felt that tiny quiver in her belly when her eyes met his, the rumble deep inside like a miniature earthquake, reminding her of how much he affected her. Those dark brown, almost black eyes of his contained both cynicism and something else that she suspected was a glint of determination. He wanted to conquer her, to show her to be the wanton woman he thought she was.

  The trouble was Sabrina thought he might very well be right. She felt wanton and out of control when in his presence. It wasn’t just his debonair looks and worldly charm; it was something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She wanted to toss caution to one side and experience the passion he promised in every taut and muscular line of his body. As lovers went, she suspected he would be right up there on the scale of demanding, adventurous and earth-shatteringly satisfying. He would expect full participation and do everything possible to achieve it. Her intimate muscles contracted in delight at the thought of experiencing his sensual attentions. She suspected her body would shatter into a thousand pieces of pleasure under the expert touch of his mouth, hands and very male body.

  She had seen enough of him so far to know he was not lacking in that department. He wore his sensual expertise like a second skin; she could feel it whenever he touched her. Just minutes ago when he’d had her rammed tightly against him she had felt the power and potency of him, the need building in him to subdue her, to claim her, to make her his in the most primitive and yet natural way possible. Her body recognised him as her nemesis.
He was the one man she had no resistance to. She turned into putty when he touched her.

  It frightened her to think she had no defences to hold him off. That one kiss four weeks ago still taunted her. She had thought of nothing else since. Her mouth even now was tingling with the need to feel the commandeering pressure of his, to feel his thrusting, searching tongue conquering hers. She had seen how powerfully he was made; she had felt him swollen and erect against her. His dynamic male body would totally consume her smaller one, stretching her, making her a woman in the real sense of the word, showing her a world of feeling that was way beyond what she had experimented with so far.

  She had been kissed before, but not with the heated passion Mario’s mouth offered. He made every kiss she had ever received seem like a chaste peck on the cheek in comparison. After that first move of hers, he had plundered her with a ruthlessness that had shocked and delighted her at the same time. He had triggered a response in her that she had not been able to damp down since. It was simmering there, keeping the network of nerves under her skin in semi-arousal mode, actively waiting for the next caress, the next touch, that would activate them into hot, throbbing life again.

  Sabrina knew she had to be extra vigilant around him. He was too practised at this. He had women all over the globe falling over to experience his possession. She would lose valuable ground in joining them. She had never been one for jumping into the fire; unlike many other women her age, she could delay gratification. It was more or less her hallmark. For all of her adult life she had ignored the advances of men to keep her goals in sight. She wanted more for her life than a temporary liaison that had the potential for heartbreak, as her mother had experienced. And as far as Sabrina could tell Mario Marcolini had ‘heartbreak’ written all over him. God knew how many women he had already cast aside with their hearts in tatters. She certainly didn’t want to be one of them.

  ‘Take a seat,’ Mario said as he lifted each of the silver dome-lids covering their meals on the trolley.