Giovanna knelt down beside her to tickle Molly under the chin. ‘You are his wife, Signora Marcolini,’ she said, still looking at the baby. ‘He just does not realise it yet.’
Sabrina turned her head to look at her. ‘I think he has a lover,’ she said, trying not to choke up.
Giovanna got to her feet in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘Rich Italian men often have mistresses,’ she said. ‘It means nothing.’
‘It means something to me,’ Sabrina returned. ‘I don’t want to share him with someone else.’
‘Perhaps you would not be sharing him with someone else if you were seeing to his needs yourself,’ Giovanna pointed out.
Sabrina felt her cheeks ripen with colour. She turned to look at Molly, and resumed idling playing with her tiny feet. ‘We don’t have that sort of relationship. It’s not what he wants.’
‘Has he told you that?’
‘Pretty much.’
Giovanna folded her arms across her ample chest. ‘I see the way he looks at you, Signora Marcolini. Maybe you need to make the first move, si?’
Sabrina felt herself quake at the thought. What if he rejected her? How would she bear it? She would feel an even bigger fool to have him spurn her clumsy, awkward advances.
‘Ah, that is him now,’ Giovanna said as the sound of the front door closing echoed through the palazzo.
The housekeeper bustled out and within a few moments Mario came in. He reached up to loosen his tie, shrugging himself out of his suit jacket, his smile as he saw Molly kicking and giggling on the floor totally transforming his face. ‘Come è il mio piccolo prezioso ragazza?’ he asked, flinging his jacket aside. ‘How is my precious little girl?’
Molly cooed at him in delight, kicking her legs all the harder, her tiny starfish hands waving in the air. Mario scooped her up from the floor and kissed her on both cheeks, before turning to face Sabrina. ‘Did you get the clothes I sent you?’
Sabrina raised her chin. ‘There are lovely. Thank you. You must have spent a fortune.’
He held her gaze for a pulsing moment. ‘If you do not like anything in the collection it can always be returned,’ he said. ‘It will not offend me, I can assure you.’
Pride stiffened her spine a little more. ‘I am not used to having someone select my clothes for me.’
He continued to hold her look. ‘You are angry, cara.’
Sabrina blinked at the endearment, her heart giving a jerky kick of surprise inside her chest. ‘No—no, I’m not. It’s just I…Some of the things you bought are very personal, and I…’
‘Did I get the size right?’ he asked before she could finish.
‘Yes.’ She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her face still burning at the thought of those lovely lacy bras and barely there knickers he had chosen for her.
‘I have something else for you,’ he said. ‘It is in my jacket pocket.’
She glanced at his jacket where it was hanging lopsidedly over the back of one of the sofas. ‘W-what is it?’
‘Go and see.’
Sabrina stepped past him to pick up his jacket. She could feel his body warmth still clinging to it, and his particular male smell. She felt tempted to hold the fabric up to her face to breathe in the essence of him, but stopped herself just in time. Instead she reached inside one of the pockets and found a velvet-covered ring box. She brought it out, her heart thumping wildly as she met his gaze.
‘Open it,’ he said.
She opened it with careful fingers, her eyes going wide when she saw the two-ring ensemble inside. Diamonds and white gold sparkled back at her brilliantly. She had never seen anything quite so beautiful before. It made her chain-store costume-jewellery collection look like fairground trinkets in comparison.
‘Like the clothes, I had to take a guess on your ring size,’ he said into the silence. ‘If they don’t fit the jeweller will adjust them for you.’
Sabrina took the rings out with meticulous care, sliding each one easily over the knuckles of her ring finger.
‘They are too loose,’ he observed.
‘Not by much,’ she said, looking up at him shyly.
His eyes held hers for an infinitesimal moment, his expression difficult to read, although his voice when he spoke sounded gruff. ‘You are far smaller than I realised. I should have known after the other night.’
She lowered her gaze as she examined the rings on her finger. ‘They are truly beautiful.’ She looked up at him again. ‘I have never had anything quite so beautiful before.’
‘I had it specially designed using diamonds from the Marcolini collection.’
Sabrina looked back at the exquisite rings on her finger, thinking wryly of how willingly she had dived into his bed without the lure of priceless diamonds. Was he thinking the same? she wondered as she glanced back at him.
He transferred Molly to his other arm, holding her with casual ease as if he had been taking care of infants all of his life. ‘I have made some enquiries about a nanny for Molly,’ he said.
Sabrina felt her scalp prickle in apprehension. She feared once a nanny was firmly established in Molly’s life there would be no need for her any more. Had the clothes and rings he had given her been part of a consolation prize to make her go away without a fuss?
‘Do we need a nanny?’ she asked. ‘It’s not as if I have anything I would rather do with my time.’
Mario cradled Molly’s head against his chest with one of his large hands. ‘Some of my business associates are keen to meet you.’
‘They could meet me here,’ she offered. ‘We don’t have to go out to entertain. I could help Giovanna with the meal. I’ve done some gourmet cooking courses, and—’
‘What is the problem, Sabrina?’ he asked, looking at her intently.
Sabrina lowered her gaze again. ‘I am not sure I can be all that convincing as a pretend wife. I have the clothes and the rings, but I’m not sure that’s really going to be enough to convince anyone.’
‘It will have to be enough,’ he said, drawing in a breath. ‘The press have already announced our union. We will be expected to be out and about like any other recently married couple. I have an important business dinner scheduled for tomorrow evening. People will start to ask questions if you are not there with me.’
She began to twist her hands together. ‘But who is going to look after Molly?’ she asked. ‘We can’t leave her with a total stranger.’
‘Giovanna will stay overnight,’ Mario said. ‘She has several grandchildren of her own, so she is used to babies. I am sure she will have no trouble for three or four hours while we are out.’
Sabrina looked at Molly, who had fallen asleep against his broad chest. No wonder the little baby felt so safe and secure in his arms. He was such a big man, tall and strong, and yet surprisingly gentle when the need for it arose. How she longed to feel him touch her again, to tantalise her with his mouth, to captivate her senses until she could think of nothing but how he made her feel. Her body craved him; even now she could feel the pining of her flesh, the nerves so sensitive to his nearness they were making her skin feel too tight for her frame. Her breasts ached for his touch, the graze of his teeth and the sweep of his tongue. Her inner core had stopped hurting days ago, but she missed that tender, intimate reminder of how he had so briefly possessed her. He had been so kind and considerate afterwards, so apologetic it had made it impossible for her not to fall in love with him.
‘I think this little girl is ready for bed,’ Mario said, carefully handing her back to Sabrina.
She took the sleeping baby from him, her heart racing like a Formula One engine as one of his hands inadvertently brushed against her breast. Her eyes met his for a beat or two before she lowered them to the child in her arms. ‘You are very good with her, Mario,’ she said. She lifted her gaze back to his. ‘She is lucky to have such a wonderful guardian.’
A shadow passed through his dark eyes, like strong sunlight blocked by the passing of thick clouds. ‘She would
have been much better off with her real parents,’ he said. ‘There is no substitute for the real thing, is there?’
‘No, I guess you are right,’ Sabrina said on the back of a sigh. She had often wondered what it would have been like to have a father, especially after her mother had been taken from her when she’d been so young. She had often dreamt of what he would look like, how he would sound and the things he might say to her if they ever met. Why he had not stayed to support her mother she would never know. She had been too young to ask, and now it was too late. When she had seen the words “father unknown” on her birth certificate it had felt like an arrow piercing her heart. It was so hard to accept she didn’t belong to anyone. She wondered now if she ever would belong to anyone. Mario had made it pretty clear he was only interested in a temporary arrangement, but how she longed for things to be different.
When she came back downstairs after putting Molly to bed, Mario was mixing himself a drink at the bar in the salon. He turned as she came into the room. ‘Would you like an aperitif?’
‘Just tonic water, no gin. Thank you,’ she said as she sat on the edge of one of the sofas.
He gave her an ironic look as he handed her the glass of tonic water. ‘Keeping a clear head, cara?’ he asked.
Sabrina took the glass with fingers that felt as if the nerves had been severed. ‘Why do you keep calling me that when there is no one around to hear you?’
‘Does it bother you?’
She pressed her lips together and looked at the cubes of ice rattling in her glass. ‘Not really. It just seems a little unnecessary.’
‘I do not find it unnecessary,’ he said. ‘It is all part of the act, no?’
Sabrina met his satirical gaze. ‘How are people ever going to believe you chose someone like me to be your wife?’ she asked.
He took a leisurely sip of his drink before he answered. ‘You underestimate your charms, Sabrina. You are a very beautiful young woman. I have always thought so, right from the first moment we met.’
She couldn’t hold back a churlish retort. ‘You thought I was a gold-digger.’
His mouth momentarily tightened. ‘And I was wrong. I have apologised, Sabrina. I can do no more.’
She crossed her legs, cradling her drink in both hands in case she spilt it. ‘If you thought I was so beautiful, why did you feel the need to revamp my wardrobe?’
His eyes warred with hers for a tense moment. ‘I can see that has become somewhat of an issue with you,’ he said. ‘Believe it or not, I was trying to help you. I would imagine it is not easy shopping with a small infant in tow. But, since you don’t appreciate the gesture, I will have everything taken back. I will arrange for you to have your own credit card with maximum credit.’
Sabrina felt sudden tears thicken her throat as he turned away from her to refresh his drink. The tension in his back and shoulders made her regret her childish response to his act of thoughtfulness. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘It was wrong of me to be so ungrateful. I realise you were only trying to be helpful.’
Mario turned to face her. ‘You are not used to people being kind to you, are you, tesore mio?’
Sabrina brushed at her prickling eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry for being so…so emotional right now.’
He put down his drink and came over to where she was sitting, hunkering down in front of her like he would a small child. His eyes were soft as they held hers, his fingers as he stroked her tear-stained cheek even softer. ‘You are not the one who should be apologising for anything, Sabrina,’ he said. ‘We have both been through a dreadful time. It is to be expected that we will have shifts of mood in these early days and months of grief.’
‘I know.’ She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. ‘I know…’
Mario traced a fingertip over her trembling bottom lip. Again he was amazed at how soft and pillowy her mouth was. He ached to feel it under his, but he knew where it would lead if he kissed her again. She had affected him much more than he had realised; that bittersweet taste of her had left him wanting in a way he had never wanted before. His body throbbed to feel her moist warmth again, but she was shy and hesitant around him, and he could hardly blame her for it. He had treated her appallingly. He loathed recalling some of the things he had said to her; doing so made his guilt all the harder to bear. He had done his best to make it up to her, but she seemed to be offended no matter what he did. Most women would have been mollified with gifts of jewellery and designer clothes, but she had turned her freckled, retroussé nose up at them.
He had lain awake the last few nights thinking of how he had hurt her. She was so petite, it tortured him to think of what damage he might have done. He had brutalised her in his savage desire for satiation, arrogantly assuming she was with him all the way when she had probably not even been aware of what she had been doing, nor what she had been communicating. Her instincts had taken over and he had exploited them.
‘You have such a soft mouth,’ he said. ‘Do you realise I have never seen you smile at me?’
She gave him a tentative half-smile. ‘Really?’
He smiled back. ‘Really.’
She shifted her gaze from his, her mouth turning down at the corners. ‘I guess I haven’t had all that much to smile about just lately.’
Mario got to his feet and, taking one of her hands, pulled her up to stand in front of him. He slid his hands down the length of her arms, relishing the silky feel of her smooth skin, his groin tightening in response. He held himself away from her, not wanting to reveal how turned on he was in case she was frightened. She looked up at him with her clear grey eyes, and he felt something move inside his chest, like a lever being shifted to a position it had never been in before.
The silence swelled and swelled, making the air thick, heavy and drugging.
Mario’s gaze went to her mouth, his heart rate picking up its pace as he saw her moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue. He felt the blood surge in his veins, the primal urge to feel her against his hardness too much for him to withstand. He muttered a short, sharp imprecation and then lowered his mouth to hers.
CHAPTER NINE
SABRINA melted against him as his kiss deepened, the movement of his tongue against hers unlocking every vertebra of her spine. Her legs felt woolly, and her belly did crazy zigzags, like a Buick on black ice, as his hands found the small of her back and pressed her up close to his erection. Her body burned at the intimate contact; it felt like flames were leaping beneath her skin, scorching her in every secret place. The feminine heart of her began to ache with an on-off pulse, a deep, throbbing ache that she knew instinctively no one could ever satisfy but him.
His kiss became more and more urgent as she laced her arms around his neck, his tongue calling hers into a fast-paced tango. Electric sensations danced along her skin, her chest wall reverberating with the pounding of her racing heart.
He tasted so fresh and so arrantly male, his unshaven skin scraping her tender face as he angled his head to change position. The kiss this time was slower, tantalisingly so. Sabrina could feel herself being swept away on a sensual tide of longing so intense she felt as if her body had completely taken over her mind. There was no room for rational thought, her body had already decided what it wanted and was doing everything in its power to communicate it to him. She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth, gently, playfully, teasingly, until he growled deep in his throat and did the same to her. Shivers cascaded down her spine as his strong white teeth captured her kiss-swollen lip, his tongue sweeping over it before his teeth made her his slave again.
Sabrina felt his hands move from her lower back to skate up her sides, resting just beneath the gentle swell of her breasts. Her nipples tingled in excitement, the puckered flesh pressing against the lace of her bra, desperate for the hot, sweet suck of his mouth and the lick and glide of his raspy male tongue.
She gave a little whimper when his thumbs brushed over her, his mouth still commandeering hers. Her hear
t thundered in her chest, the drum beat of her pulse roaring in her ears like the tumultuous waves of a wild ocean.
Mario lifted his mouth from hers and looked down at her with eyes blazing with desire. ‘This might be a good time to stop,’ he said. ‘Before things get out of hand.’
Sabrina’s body felt cold and unstable without the solid prop of his. His hands were now holding her by the upper arms, but she longed for the hot press of his body against hers. She swallowed the ropey lump of disappointment in her throat, her spirits wilting at the realisation of how easy it was for him to release her. His desire for her was a transient, controllable thing, unlike hers, which had reduced her almost to the point of begging.
‘I suppose your mistress might not be too happy about you sleeping with your wife as well as her.’ She spoke her thoughts out loud.
His eyes studied hers. It seemed a decade before he spoke. ‘You know, for a moment there I thought you sounded jealous.’
Sabrina felt her colour rise but raised her chin regardless. ‘I don’t want to be laughed at by everyone.’
‘No one is laughing at you, cara mia.’
Tears burned like acid at the back of her eyes. ‘Stop calling me that,’ she said, desperately trying to control the wobble of her chin. ‘Please don’t make fun of me. I can’t bear it.’
Mario’s hands moved from her upper arms to encircle her wrists, his fingers overlapping each other. ‘What is this about, Sabrina? What is it really about?’
Her throat moved up and down as if she was shuffling through the words before she spoke them. ‘I’m not sure…’
‘Look at me.’
She slowly raised her eyes to his, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.
‘I do not have a mistress right now,’ he said.
Her pupils went wide, like black saucers. ‘Y-you don’t?’
Bound By The Marcolini Diamonds (The Marcolini Men Book 2) Page 12
