She gave her eyes a quick roll of disdain. ‘I can see why you have booked the largest suite in the hotel—no doubt it is to make room for your ego.’
Mario laughed as he undid a couple of buttons on his shirt. ‘And I can see how it might be rather fun being married to you. The challenge of taming that quick tongue of yours could prove to be very entertaining.’
Sabrina threw him a filthy look. ‘I can’t stand men who think they can control the women in their lives.’
‘Ah, but you are not really the woman in my life, are you, Sabrina?’ he said. ‘But perhaps you would like to be, sì? That would be the icing on the cake, would it not? A rich man for a husband, a child thrown into the bargain and a lifestyle other people only dream about.’
She gave him a withering look. ‘I can think of nothing worse than being tied to you.’
A light of challenge came into his eyes. ‘I think you are playing a very clever game,’ he said. ‘No doubt you have played it many times before. But with me, young lady, you have taken on much more than you realise. I am not going to be manipulated by you. I know what you want and how far you will go to get it. The next thing, you will be telling me you are in love with me and want our marriage to continue indefinitely.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘As if.’
Mario smiled. He liked nothing better than a woman who was quick with a come back; it showed a level of intelligence that was a match to his. Sabrina’s feisty nature was becoming increasingly attractive to him. He was so used to women simpering around him, bowing to his demands without a whimper of protest.
Sabrina on the other hand fought him tooth and nail, snarling at him like a cat cornered by a snapping terrier. It made him all the more determined to tame her, to have her purring in submission in his arms, welcoming him like a lioness who recognised the alpha male of the pride, giving herself to him because she realised there was no other male who could satisfy her the way he could.
And he could satisfy her. He knew it as surely as he knew where his next breath was coming from. He had not felt anything like the heat he felt in her kiss; he had not felt anything like the fire in her touch as her hands had skimmed over him, barely touching, but setting fires on his flesh all the same. His skin was still smouldering, the ashes of banked down desire still glowing, threatening to erupt into consuming flames if she so much as pressed her soft mouth to his.
‘I am going to catch a couple of hours’ sleep,’ Mario said. ‘Are you sure you will not join me in my bed?’
The disparaging look she gave him made his skin tighten all over with excitement.
Later today she would be his wife.
Legally.
Officially.
And from what he had seen and tasted of her so far he did not think it would be too long before she agreed to be his wife in every sense of the word.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE registry-office ceremony was just as disappointing as Sabrina had imagined it would be. A disinterested official conducted the short, impersonal exchange of vows and the paperwork was signed and sealed in less time than it would have taken a real bride to walk down the aisle of a church. The only thing that stood out for Sabrina was the part where the marriage celebrant gave Mario permission to kiss the bride.
Sabrina had been preparing herself for that moment for hours, but even so when his mouth came down on hers she felt every bone in her body melt. Her lips clung to his, her body sinking into the leanly muscled strength of his tall frame. The kiss was brief but intense—but because Mario was the first to bring an end to it Sabrina felt cheated, wondering if he knew she was secretly longing for more. It was so hard to read his expression; he gave no indication of the event of their marriage affecting him whatsoever, which in a perverse sort of way upset her even more.
The press were in their droves on the street outside, but Mario had already organised a security team to keep them at bay. It was impossible to prevent them from taking a few snapshots, however, and Sabrina was glad she had gone to the trouble of wearing her best outfit, a pale-pink suit and a string of pearls and earrings that had belonged to her mother. She had piled her hair in a casual but still elegant knot on her head, and taken extra care with her make-up, recognising she was now playing a role that required all the poise and sophistication she could muster. She didn’t want any of Mario’s previous and future lovers to look at her and think he had married trailer trash. She was determined to show everyone, including Mario himself, that she was a young woman who knew how to carry herself in the public eye.
There was no reception following the service, no crystal flutes of the best champagne to toast the future, no throwing of the bouquet—there wasn’t even a single flower for her to toss. Instead there was a flurry of activity as Mario’s driver ushered them into the waiting limousine to take them to the airport for her departure to Rome.
Molly thankfully had slept through the proceedings and didn’t wake until Sabrina had to lift her out of her baby carrier in order to go through the security check-point.
In no time at all they were led to the waiting jet, and once the safety demonstration was over, the sleek plane taxied along the runway before it finally took off like a giant metallic bird.
Sabrina was glad she had Molly’s needs and comfort to see to as it kept her attention away from the silent figure seated beside her. She was intensely aware of him, however. He only had to turn over the page of the thick folder of documents he was reading for her to shiver in reaction at the occasional brush of his arm against hers.
Eventually the stress and emotional turmoil of the day got the better of her, and, with Molly asleep in the bassinet against the bulkhead, Sabrina closed her eyes, promising herself she would have a little power-nap to refresh herself before Molly next woke.
Mario breathed in the sweet light fragrance of Sabrina’s light brown hair as she leant against his shoulder. She smelt of fresh spring flowers, sweet peas and jasmine, a subtle but alluring combination that made his concentration drift away from the article on fund management he was supposed to be reading.
He looked at her small, slim hands lying on his right thigh, their ringless state reminding him of his need to organise an engagement and wedding ring to add credence to their sudden marriage.
He had phoned his brother and briefly explained the situation, and Antonio had encouraged him to concentrate on what was best for Molly. Building a long-term relationship with Sabrina was not something Mario had ever considered, but he was starting to see how the baby responded to Sabrina as if she was indeed her biological mother. He didn’t want to think too far into the future, but he comforted himself that lots of children survived the divorce of their parents or guardians. Being stuck in a loveless marriage was not an option for him; his parents had enjoyed a mostly happy and fulfilling relationship up until his father had suffered a fatal heart attack. His mother’s decline over the last five years and recent death had made Mario even more convinced marriage was not for him. He didn’t like the thought of being dependent on someone for anything, including emotional support. He had seen what had happened to Antonio and his wife, how the tragedy of their stillborn first child had torn them apart for five long years.
Did he want that sort of emotion in his life? It was hard enough being responsible for Molly, whom he loved as if she was indeed his own. He didn’t like the uncertainty, the sense of vulnerability, that giving all of yourself to another person created. He had never been in love, and often wondered if it was an overrated emotion to cover more base desires, which in the end usually burned out all by themselves. He knew too many married couples who could barely stand the sight of each other, grudgingly staying together for the sake of children or combined assets.
Even if he had been thinking along the lines of marriage Sabrina was not the sort of woman Mario had ever envisaged as wife material. She might have a knack with infants and children, but what man wanted a wife who was likely to stray at the first opportunity? For the duration of
their marriage he would have to keep a very close eye on her. He didn’t want her making a fool of him behind his back. He was the first to admit he had more than his share of pride, and he had no doubt from what he had seen so far that Sabrina was just the type who would find it entertaining to grind it into the dust.
Although, looking at her now totally relaxed in sleep, it was hard to imagine her with the bed-hopping reputation she had been tarred with. He supposed that was why she was so successful at luring unsuspecting men into her orbit. She had a little-girl-lost look at times that had the potential to confound the hardest of hearts. He knew he had to watch himself around her. He was so used to playing the game with women who had the same motives as himself: sex without ties, fun on the run, nothing permanent and certainly no emotional investment. Sabrina challenged all that with one look with those smoky-grey eyes, not to mention her all-female body with its promise of passion in every delicious curve.
Mario moved his arm to encircle her as she nestled closer. A soft sigh escaped her lips, her hands moving farther up his thigh to where his blood was already pumping like a piston. She was so practised at her game she could seduce a man in her sleep, he thought wryly.
She murmured something and lifted her head, blinking at him groggily. ‘What time is it?’ she asked, brushing at her disordered hair, the action releasing another whiff of its fragrance into the air.
‘Rome time or Sydney time?’ he asked, trying to resist the urge to tuck a loose tendril of her hair behind her ear.
She straightened in her seat, her eyes going straight to the sleeping baby. ‘Has she woken?’
‘No, she slept like a …’ He suddenly smiled. ‘Like a baby.’
Sabrina turned and looked at him, her heart giving a little jerky movement in her chest at his smile. The smile had travelled all the way up to his eyes, making him look so utterly gorgeous that her breath stalled. She swallowed and tore her gaze away, concentrating with fierce intent on the sleeping baby. ‘Yes, well, whoever made up that adage obviously hadn’t had a baby,’ she said to fill the silence.
‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said, stretching out his legs.
‘How soon before we land?’ she asked as she looked out of the window to distract herself from the proximity of his long legs so close to hers.
‘The pilot has already started his descent,’ he said. ‘It won’t be long before the cabin crew will want us to prepare for landing. It seems a shame to wake Molly, but she is safer strapped in one of our laps than in the cot.’
The announcement came through as Mario had predicted, and Sabrina cuddled Molly close as he helped fix the infant seatbelt-attachment to hers. She barely breathed as his long-fingered hands dealt with the clip and straps, her stomach sucked in tightly in case he inadvertently or indeed deliberately touched her. She could feel her heart doing crazy back-flips at his proximity, the masculine scent of him dancing around her face.
Before he sat back in his seat his gaze found hers, holding it for a pulsing beat or two of silence. Sabrina was the first to pull her gaze away, her desperate attempt to act cool and composed spoilt somewhat by the blush she could feel spreading over her cheeks. She drew Molly close and, taking a shallow breath, settled back in her seat as the plane began to make its way down.
Within a few minutes they were safely on the ground and soon after they’d made their way through customs, and finally to the chauffeur-driven vehicle waiting outside. The press took a couple of photographs, and Sabrina noticed Mario seemed to be particularly annoyed by the intrusion as he swore at one of the paparazzi as he shouldered his way past, keeping Molly close against his chest.
Sabrina absorbed the view as they drove towards the city. The ancient ruins of the Colosseum went past, and a flicker of excitement travelled through her belly in spite of the circumstances of their paper marriage. Her only overseas trip prior to this had been to New Zealand, and, although stunningly beautiful and with its own ancient Maori history, it was nothing like the eternal city of Rome. There was so much to see, so much history and so much beauty, it was almost too much for her to take in.
Mario pointed out the various points of interest along the way, including the Celian Hill and then the Vatican in the distance. ‘I will be busy at work but I will organise someone to accompany you on a guided tour of all the sights,’ he offered as they drew close to his palazzo.
Sabrina was surprised at the tiny jab of disappointment she felt. It wasn’t as if she even liked his company; why then should she want him to be the one to show her around? ‘I am sure I will be perfectly able to find my way around by myself,’ she said as the car purred to a stop outside an imposing-looking palazzo.
‘I am sure you are more than capable, but I must insist on Molly’s welfare being attended to at all times,’ he said as he helped her out of the car. ‘Rome is a beautiful city, but like a lot of cities its size it has it dangers—congested traffic being one of them. You are not used to cars being on the other side of the road, for instance. You would only have to push Molly’s pram out on the road ahead of you for tragedy to strike if you were not concentrating.’
Sabrina could see his point, but she couldn’t help noticing it was Molly’s safety he was primarily concerned about, not hers. If anything it could prove to be rather convenient for him if something was to happen to her. He hadn’t wanted a wife, and certainly not one with the sort of reputation she had.
She pushed her pique aside as Mario led the way inside the palazzo. The housekeeper came bustling towards them, barely gracing Sabrina with a glance before turning in delight at the baby, who was soundly asleep in the baby carrier.
Mario made a few cursory introductions, but it was clear to Sabrina he had been brutally honest with his staff about the woman he had married. A hard nut of anger lodged in her throat and she clenched her teeth behind her coolly polite smile each time another staff member was introduced to her. She was determined to have it out with Mario in private, however. Surely it had been unnecessary to swing the jury before she had even stepped over the threshold?
It didn’t help that everyone spoke Italian in a rapid-fire manner that made it impossible for her to pick up some of the very few words she had managed to learn from Laura. It made her feel all the more shut out, as if they were determined not to make any allowances for her.
‘Giovanna will show you to your room,’ Mario informed her. ‘I have to call in at my office to catch up on some paperwork which needs my immediate attention. I will no doubt see you later this evening.’
Sabrina wondered if the paperwork he was going to catch up on was slim and blonde with breasts you could serve a meal off. She pushed her resentment down with an effort, turned and followed the housekeeper up the huge flight of stairs, trying not to show how overawed she was by the opulent furnishings on the way. Priceless works of art hung upon the walls, marble statues and busts were displayed along the lower and upper landings, and even the runner of carpet that followed the curve of the staircase felt as it if had been woven from air.
The housekeeper opened a door about halfway down the second-floor landing. ‘This your room,’ she said. ‘The bambino next door. Signore Marcolini next door to that.’
Sabrina thanked her, and without another word Giovanna left with a disapproving rustle of her starched, black uniform.
Molly made a noise from the carrier, and Sabrina sighed and bent down to take her out. She held her close, silently promising she would see this through for the baby’s sake, no matter how difficult it turned out to be.
Sabrina resisted falling asleep too early in case she couldn’t sleep that night. She felt jet-lagged, but with Molly to bathe and feed it gave her a focus to keep going. But once Molly was settled in the nursery next to her room there was little else for her to do but wait until it was a reasonable time to go to bed.
The housekeeper had informed her earlier that evening that dinner would be served at eight-thirty, but when Sabrina went downstairs she ended up eating alone as
Mario hadn’t yet returned. There was no message from him that she could find, and although she longed to ask Giovanna if Mario had told her when he would be back she resisted doing so.
The large dining-room with its solitary place-setting on the highly polished, seemingly endless table made her feel all the more isolated. The food was delicious, however, and although her appetite was affected by the change of time zone she still managed to do the meal justice. She even drank a glass of wine, figuring it would help her to relax when it came time to go to bed.
She thought about waiting until Mario got home to speak to him about the housekeeper’s coldness towards her, especially in view of Molly—who although still so young would before too long become aware of undercurrents of tension—but she decided against speaking with him until she was more rested. He was hard enough to resist with all her faculties working; God only knew what would happen if she locked horns with him in the edgy state she was currently in. She felt jittery and agitated, restless and frustrated. Trapped might be a better word, Sabrina thought as she finished the last of her wine. She was trapped by her own traitorous thoughts of Mario pleasuring her, introducing her to the sensual world of sexual pleasure. She felt a little shudder rumble through her as she remembered the passion in his kiss, the teasing of his tongue and the way her body had responded.
Was this energy always going to be simmering between them? she wondered. Or was he dealing with his desire by taking the edge off it with his mistress? Jealousy tightened Sabrina’s insides to coils of barbed wire. She hated thinking about him with another woman— any other woman. For all the weeks since that kiss she had tortured herself with thoughts of his mouth passionately exploring other women’s mouths. It was stupid of her to act like a put-upon wife, but she couldn’t help it. She had taken his name and she was damned if she was going to be made of fool of, even if it was just in front of his household staff.
Sabrina made her way upstairs and, once she was confident Molly was still sleeping peacefully, she found herself eyeing the other door leading off the nursery. What would it hurt to have a quick peek into Mario’s domain? He wasn’t home, and even if he did return she would surely hear him come along the landing, as she had heard Giovanna earlier. She wavered for a moment. Will I or won’t I? The temptation was dangling there, just waiting for her to give in to it.
Melanie Milburne Bestseller Collection 201209/The Marcolini Blackmail Marriage/Bound by the Marcolini Diamonds Page 24
