My Italian Beast (Part One)

by Marian Tee

  “Could you please release me?”

  “Not a chance.” His tone was soft and devilish, and the sound had my insides knotting up.

  “I mean what I said.”

  “So did I.” His hands on my waist tightened as his spoke.

  Crap.

  It was stupid, really stupid, but his touch just felt so ridiculously hot I was tempted to check my skin for burn marks.

  When I felt Marcus’ gaze trail down my body, I couldn’t help crossing my arms over my chest even though I was completely covered from the neck down.

  “May I ask a question, bambina?”

  The laughter in his voice made it easy for me to guess what he wanted to ask, and so I said with as much dignity as I could muster, “I’d rather you don’t.”

  But he only chuckled and went on asking, “Has no one ever told you that scuba suits were meant to be worn when you’re…” He paused then finished casually, “…actually going for a dive?”

  “I know that.” But I shouldn’t have bothered answering. Marcus was already too busy laughing to even hear me.

  “It’s just my thing,” I said defensively. And I wasn’t lying. Not wanting Marcus Ravelli to see my not-thin body in a bikini could be a thing. Right?

  When I looked back at Marcus, his laughter had receded, but his dark eyes were still gleaming with humor as he murmured soothingly, “You look cute in it anyhow.”

  This time, I really had to roll my eyes. Here he was again, saying thing he couldn’t possibly mean.

  “I mean it, bambina.”

  “No, you don’t.” I forced myself to face him, saying challengingly, “Look at me in the eyes and say---”

  He didn’t let me finish. He simply lowered his head, and staring deeply into my eyes, he said succinctly, “You’re cute.”

  Oh, crap.

  There he went frying my brain again with those cunningly chosen words of his!

  My knees buckled, and he let out a soft laugh. I tried pulling away, but his hands still had me chained in place.

  “Not so fast, bambini.”

  When he said it like that, it just made me want to escape even more. So I tried twisting away and shoving him back---

  Big mistake.

  I froze, my hands on his bare chest.

  I had seen my brothers in all states of undress, and logic told me that their naked chests weren’t any different from Marcus’. Their abs weren’t any different from Marcus’ abs.

  I knew that…so why did the sight of Marcus’ bronze chest seem so enticing?

  And why, dear God, why couldn't I seem to take my hands off his naked chest?

  I stared at my hands, desperately willing them to move, but they remained on his hot, hard skin, my fingers becoming more and more sensitive with every second.

  Danger. This was the very definition of danger. And yet I couldn’t move a muscle.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” he muttered under his breath. “Haven’t you?”

  “No.” Yes.

  I felt his eyes narrowing on me. “You’re lying.”

  Duh. What did he expect? Did he think I liked getting up at five in the morning just to have a swim? Did he think I liked volunteering my ass off at the festival just so I could fall into an exhausted sleep at night?

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said finally. “It’s not like you’ve been lacking for things to do.”

  His lips tightened.

  Good. At least he had the decency not to pretend he didn’t know what I was talking about. Marcus had only been with us for a week, and countless girls had already phoned the house, asking about him.

  Was he home?

  Did we know if he was going to this party or that?

  Could he have a girl back in Italy?

  “Don’t let them get to you,” Marcus muttered. “They don’t mean anything to me.”

  And I was supposed to believe that?

  “Anneke.”

  I bit my lip hard. Oh, crap. The way he said my name still got to me.

  “I missed you.” When I shook my head at him, he said forcefully, “I’m not lying. I did miss you---”

  “Then you must also think I’m stupid!” How could he miss me when he had been painting the town red practically every night? How could he possibly miss me when he didn’t really even know me?

  His jaw clenched, and I suddenly felt tired. I hated that he was making me act out again, but I just couldn’t help it.

  Everything in my life used to make sense.

  Everything was meant to make sense, but he was proving to be the lone exemption, and he was making everything fall apart.

  “Can we just stop this?” I swallowed. “Please?”

  Marcus’ face became expressionless, and I suddenly had the most awful feeling that I had somehow…hurt him.

  And I didn’t want it.

  I really didn’t want it.

  But before I could think of something to say, I heard him speak---

  “Nic and Jaak often told me stories about you, you know.”

  I froze.

  “We go to the same soccer club, your brothers and I. It’s how we met.”

  Oh. I knew what he was talking about. It was an annual one-week sports camp that Jaak and Nic had started attending as part of their therapy, following our parents’ unofficial exile from Amsterdam.

  “I also went for therapeutic reasons.”

  Marcus’ tone was casual, too casual---

  “That’s how – or rather, it’s the reason why your brothers and I mainly got along, when normally we would’ve beaten each other up because we were too similar.”

  And it hurt.

  “Was it---” I tested a tentative smile on my face. “Too many big fish in a small pond, that kind of thing?”

  “More like too much ego and trauma for one soccer team to handle, but yeah, you could say that, too.” His ironic tone made me smile a little, but his words also made my heart squeeze.

  “They’d probably never admit it to you, but your brothers were always homesick when they were away from camp, and telling me stories – about you in particular – helped make them feel better, I suppose.” His lips twisted. “There were times when I wished I could have my turn. I wanted to tell them stories, too. But I didn’t have any.”

  “I s-see.”

  And I did see.

  I was beginning to see why he needed a reminder about the world being a good place, and it just made my heart ache even more.

  “Why were they telling you stories,” I heard myself ask, “about me?” Why not Fleur? Or why not just our family in general?

  “They thought I was too cruel with the girls I dated.”

  “Oh.” I was seriously stunned, and because I couldn’t help it, I blurted out, “Really?”

  He smirked. “It’s the complete truth.”

  Now I was even more confused. Jaak had been a notorious playboy even when he was still in high school, and he had only gotten worse over the years. Nic, on the other hand, was devastatingly ruthless when it came to getting rid of girls he found too clingy, stupid--- the list went on, really. Nic was rather picky when it came to the girls he dated.

  The point was, Jaak and Nic were far from being perfect boyfriend material, and now Marcus was telling me those two brothers of mine thought they were qualified to give their friend advice about how to properly treat girls?

  “How bad are you?” I couldn’t help asking. “Do you, like, beat up the girls you date?”

  It was obviously supposed to be a joke, but Marcus’ lips only curved. “Something like that.”

  Riiiight.

  “So you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong with you,” I guessed.

  “Something like that.” His hands left my waist all of a sudden, but before I could even think of moving away, he had placed his hands over mine, pressing my hands closer to his chest, and I found myself ensnared in a different way.

  Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

  Should I have seen that comi
ng?

  Or had I not wanted to see it coming?

  Where Marcus Ravelli was concerned, I just didn’t know the difference between what I did and didn’t want anymore.

  “Your brothers told me that not all girls were bitchy, vain, selfish, and dumb.”

  “O-oh?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. On one hand, I felt he was being more than a little sexist. I could say the same thing about guys, too. But on the other hand, there was the way he was looking at me--- oh, he was looking at me like I was everything the other girls couldn’t be – and it was making my lungs suddenly incapable of functioning properly.

  “So they started telling me stories about you, and the more they talked about this paragon---”

  I was a paragon?

  “Who couldn’t possibly be real---”

  I wasn’t real?

  “The more I wanted a chance to meet you.”

  This was the point where my heart went wild, and all I could do was plead silently for it to stop---

  Please heart, please, please be still---

  “When Jaak told me he was skipping camp this year, I practically left him no choice but to invite me to Bruin Hemel.”

  Oh please stop thumping so hard---

  “When I first met you, and you were in your pajamas, and Jaak told me you hadn’t even taken a shower---”

  Stop racing so fast---

  “I looked at you, and I knew every word they said was true.”

  Because if you don’t, I just might let myself forget how dangerous Marcus Ravelli was.

  A faint cry almost escaped from my throat at the thought, and I swallowed hard. “I---” My mouth snapped shut. I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to say. All I knew was that this was too dangerous, and I was starting not to care that it was so.

  “I just…” I took a deep breath and tried again. “Marcus---”

  His eyes blazed, and my voice faltered.

  “That’s the first time you’ve said my name.”

  His rough voice made me shiver, but his words just threw me back to the deep end. How else was I supposed to call him?

  “Say it again, bambina.”

  I said slowly, tentatively, “Marcus.”

  The look in his dark eyes became hotter, and I shuddered as everything became clear.

  Oh.

  I tore my hands from his grasp---

  Oh!

  And this time he let me go.

  “Marcus.” His name spilled out in a helpless little tone, and when I saw his nostrils flare in response, I knew I hadn’t been imagining things.

  This time I knew why my name on his lips made me feel strange, knew why his name on my lips seemed to have the same effect on him.

  This time, I knew what he had known all along.

  He wanted to have sex with me.

  And I wanted to have sex with him.

  The knowledge left me reeling. I was confused and breathless, disbelieving and uncertain. But most of all I was terrified, and without thinking, I licked my suddenly dry lips---

  His eyes blazed again, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or run away.

  And I found myself asking dazedly, “Really?”

  Something that simple could arouse him?

  But Marcus only shrugged, arrogantly unrepentant. “Yes.” I supposed I should be thankful he was being honest.

  “I’m a very sexual man.”

  Or not.

  I felt my breasts start to ache under my scuba suit, the pain unlike anything I had ever experienced before---

  Definitely not.

  “Do you really think,” I whispered, “it’s possible for us to be friends?”

  “No.” His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “But there’s no harm in trying, is there?”

  Chapter Five

  And so we tried to be friends, which was easier said than done since Marcus didn’t seem to understand what friends were supposed to be. As a friend, he wasn’t ever supposed to look at me like he wanted to ravish me. As a friend, he wasn’t ever supposed to bristle if he caught me talking to one of the local boys who had come to work at the estate. As a friend, he wasn’t ever supposed to act proprietary every time we headed out of town---

  There were a lot of things that he wasn’t supposed to do as a friend, but then who was I to talk?

  As a friend, I wasn’t supposed to keep thinking about him like he was the only person that mattered. As a friend, I wasn’t supposed to ache when he was near, and I definitely shouldn’t feel guilty every time we were with my brothers.

  It wasn’t like we had done anything wrong.

  Right?

  Tonight’s dinner was another semi-awkward affair, mostly because Marcus had managed to take the seat beside me on the table and for the past fifteen minutes, he had been torturing me with these tiny soft touches.

  “Have some salad,” Marcus would say, and of course he’d make sure our fingers would come into contact as he gave me the bowl.

  “Want some more water?” Marcus would ask, and at my nod he’d pour some into my glass, all the while leaning close – too, too close that his scent would seduce my body into melting.

  Little things really, but when they were all added together, they were more than enough to drive me crazy.

  This was not how friends were supposed to be---

  “Anneke?”

  I glanced at him warily.

  “Your napkin’s slipping.”

  I stiffened. Crap. That sounded bad.

  “Let me fix it for you,” he murmured dulcetly under his breath.

  “It’s okay,” I said hastily. “I can---”

  But he had already reached for one corner of the napkin, and after whipping it out to straighten the creases, Marcus gently laid the napkin on my lap.

  I reached for my glass of water, trying to act casual.

  The fabric settled on my lap, just as his fingers caressed my knee.

  I choked.

  Seated at the head of the table, Willem paused in his discussion with Nic, asking politely, “Is everything alright?”

  I quickly summoned a smile. “Yes.” I quietly shoved Marcus’ fingers off my knee. “I’m sorry for interrupting. Please carry on.”

  On my other side, Fleur leaned towards me, saying slyly, “I saw that.”

  I froze.

  “Promise me you’ll help me sneak out next week,” she whispered, “and I promise to stay blind.”

  I kicked her under the table. “You’re my sister. You’re not supposed to blackmail me.”

  “Well, those guys---” She nodded towards Jaak, Nic, and Willem, who were deep in discussion about something that had to do with our grandmother’s latest orders. “---are our brothers, and you’re not supposed to have any secrets from them.” She smirked. “Aren’t you?”

  Before I could tell Fleur what a horrible person she was, Willem suddenly addressed both of us, and we immediately straightened in our seats. He had always had this effect on us, probably because he had been more a parent to the others and me than our real parents were.

  “It’s our turn to host this year’s Carnival Week,” Willem informed us. “I expect everyone to be available for the entire week.”

  Fleur opened her mouth to protest.

  “Understood?” Willem said very pleasantly.

  Fleur snapped her mouth shut.

  “Carnival Week?” Marcus echoed curiously. “It sounds interesting.”

  I nodded eagerly. “Oh yes. Our carnival’s like no other.” I knew I sounded more than a little proud, but I couldn’t help it. “Everything still comes with a bookish twist. We have bespectacled swan boats, and if you take a ride on the Ferris wheel, you’ll see that each cabin is stocked with a mini library. Then there’s the---”

  “Whoa.” Marcus was grinning. “Maybe it’s better if I experience these things firsthand?”

  “Oh yes.” I nodded vigorously even though I knew I was beginning to sound like a broken record. But I couldn’t help it either
. Bruin Hemel was a vastly underappreciated town in my opinion, and nothing made me feel giddier than having an opportunity to get other people to see the place the way I did.

  “What time does the festival start?”

  “Nine-ish?”

  “That sounds good,” Marcus murmured. “How about you take me to town tomorrow?”

  “Oh ye – what?” I blinked, uncertain if I had heard him right. But then I saw everyone – including Willem – turning to look at me.

  A penny could be heard dropping at the silence that swept over the dining room, telling me I hadn’t misheard Marcus Ravelli.

  Oh.

  Jaak started to smirk, and he was looking at Marcus and me like we were about to embark on a live vaudeville skit. Nic was frowning, as if trying to understand how our houseguest could be so stupid.

  “This should be fun,” Fleur whispered slyly to me, and I kicked her under the table again.

  This was not fun. This was downright embarrassing and awkward, more so when I saw Willem’s icy blue gaze settle on Marcus as he asked in a too-pleasant voice, “Is that your way of asking my sister out on a date?”

  Okay, that officially made this the most awkward and embarrassing moment of my life.

  Marcus’ dark gaze met my brother’s. “Not at all.” His voice was completely unruffled. “Anneke and I are just friends.”

  Perfect answer, I cheered silently inside my mind. You go, Marcus---

  “But if I do choose to ask her out on a date, it should be a private matter between your sister and me---” Marcus’ gaze captured mine. “---don’t you think?”

  No! You no go, Marcus!

  I stared at him in dismay. What the heck was wrong with him? Both of us knew he didn’t want to date me. Friendship was the only thing he insisted upon, so why was he saying things like he was baiting my brother?

  “I see,” I heard Willem murmur.

  Oh no.

  Oh crap, oh no.

  Willem never said anything he didn’t mean, so when he said those dreaded words, then there was something he did see.

  The question was – what was he seeing?

  My heart stopped moving when Willem reached for his knife, and I saw my other brothers tense.

  But then all Willem did was cut himself a slice of steak. “I hope you enjoy the carnival.” And then he fed himself the piece of meat and began to chew, elegantly, of course.