"My family is a confused affair,” he said, not offering anything more. “Eat your breakfast, cara mia, we have a busy day."
"Sounds promising."
Framed by the door, he turned to her. “Was yesterday so terrible? Do you need to bury yourself in the sand with your laptop?"
"No ... I,” she stuttered. “Once I'd gotten over the shock of being alone with a virtual stranger—correction complete stranger,” she said, giving him a tentative smile only to have her pulse lurch when his brows rose in tandem and he winked at her. She coughed and cleared her throat. “Actually, it turned out to be a rather nice day,” she agreed.
"Nice?"
"Yes, nice. Is there something wrong with nice?"
Marco laughed and gave her a teasing smile. “We fly on my magic carpet to an island paradise, I indulge your fantasies, and you call it nice."
Fantasy—if only he knew.
"Once I decided to give in, rather than fight it, I did begin to enjoy myself."
"That's a relief to this genie's ears. To think it was only nice, would destroy the myth of this genie,” he chuckled, slapping a hand across his heart in mock horror.
"Well we can't have that.” Carly tossed the bed covers back, forgetting her barely there nightdress until it was too late, but when she caught the momentary flicker of boldly assessing awareness in his gaze before he looked away, she faltered, then decided to brazen it out. “So what have you planned?"
"Eat, put some clothes on,” he instructed. “Then see what the day holds."
"Great.” She shot him a smile. “Now get out of here. Can't have a genie in the boudoir too long. I need to dress."
Placing her palms firmly on his shoulders she turned him around and gave him a playful pat on the derrière.
He left pronto, and her gaze followed him out of her bedroom, focusing on that way too cute butt of his.
Oh boy, big mistake.
Heat scalded every inch of Carly's body and when she glanced down to her open hand, she was surprised there wasn't a burn mark on it where her fingers had touched his taut jean-clad derrière.
"Don't touch what you can't afford,” she muttered to herself.
This was bad. Very bad.
She slammed the bedroom door shut and retreated to dress. She had better get her head around this before day two began.
* * * *
"Pure bliss,” Carly drooled as she took the last step onto the patio.
"You deserved a good day."
And it had been. Her genie had seen to that. Relaxing by the shore, swimming. Marco peeling the exotic fruit, feeding her. All the things a genie should do. The weather had been perfect, the day perfect. Which surprised her. Carly hadn't expected to enjoy her time here. She was focused. Centered. But somehow, Marco had wiped the slate clean and she hadn't thought about work all day.
She turned to face her genie. “It has been a lovely day. Thank you."
Marco bowed low. “My pleasure."
Pleasure. Pure pleasure. Suddenly, her tongue thickened and she struggled to speak. “You're good company,” she finally managed to say.
He leaned against the railing, eyes narrowed, shading from the glaring late afternoon sun. “You sound as if you're surprised."
"No. It's just...” Carly sucked in a lung full of air, exhaling with a loud sigh. “Let's face it, we didn't exactly know each other before this, um..."
"Experiment,” he suggested.
Embarrassed, she looked away.
"The trouble is no one is going to know about it, and more importantly, your friends won't even know the mystery man turned up."
"No. I was thinking about that. I thought maybe I could say Mr. Invisible and I had a row."
"A row?"
"We'll have a blazing argument and I'll tell my friends Mr. Invisible was really a big jerk and I tossed him."
"A jerk? You're going to dump me?” Marco's voice held a hint of astonishment.
Surprised at his reaction, Carly took a sideways glance at his inscrutable face and her heart did a gigantic flip. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but one look at the ever-changing color of Marco's eyes only served to augment her mounting urge to bolt. With every passing hour she was increasingly out of her depth.
But something, whatever it was, held her back. Besides, swimming to the mainland wasn't an option in paradise.
"Not you exactly,” she corrected, “but my so called mystery man."
"That is me. A man has his pride, cara mia,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “You're going to dump me?” he reiterated.
Carly's head tilted sideways, biting her bottom lip “Well It's not really you. I mean, you came, but it could have been a thousand other men."
"A thousand. That's rather unique. I didn't know you'd interviewed a thousand."
"I didn't."
"Good, I'm glad to hear it."
"You are?"
"Competition is good, but a thousand other men. Even I know the odds,” he chuckled.
Wordless, Carly stared at her hired Romeo. Even if there were a hundred thousand other men, she reasoned, Marco would have won hands down. That particular thought shocked Carly and she began to tremble, overtaken by a light-headedness.
"You all right?” Marco reached for her hand, holding it in his. Touch to touch, skin on skin, his thumb stroking a path across her palm. He laced his fingers through hers and gently massaged her hand.
Once again words hung in her throat as she stared down at her own pale hand dotted with the sun's kisses, resting in the broad expanse of his. His touch was surprisingly soft, a caress, slow and languorous, a hypnotizing motion that teased and soundlessly promised more.
Carly blinked several times and pulled herself roughly out of Marco's grasp. That was enough of those wayward thoughts, Ms. Mason, she chided silently. This was getting ridiculous.
Vainly, she tried to steady her shaking hands and shoved them behind her back as if it would hide the heat Marco's touch ignited. “I'm fine,” she lied, keeping her face averted. Marco had a way of seeing into her thoughts, her soul, and she wasn't going to fall into that trap. “I need some time alone, that's all."
"You want to run away again, cara mia."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Am I? Think about it. You relax, you begin to enjoy yourself, and then you want to hide away, to not think, to not feel. You are scared of feeling."
"Am not,” Carly denied hotly, realizing at the same time she sounded like a petulant child.
But Marco merely smiled, the soft lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling, sending blood rushing to her temples. Beneath her shirt her breasts thrust against the constraints of her lacy bra. This was pure, unadulterated heat—and lust.
He stood close by. Too close for comfort.
And yes, she wanted to run—sort of.
"Last night you didn't run from my touch. You welcomed my arms around you."
"I was cold."
Marco chuckled, his tone richly bold and inviting. “Hmm, but you warmed under my touch."
"I'm not my sisters, Marco Valente. Nor my mother. Don't even think I'll have a fling with you. I've worked hard and hauled myself out from the cyclic environment of my family. I've succeeded beyond my dreams.” Carly broke her monologue and gasped for air. She felt Marco's eyes bore down on her and folded her arms across her chest, lifting her chin up with defiance.
"But what about your wildest dreams, cara? What about those."
"I don't have any."
"Liar,” he whispered. His intense gaze speared right through her and she tried to look away, but his fingers gripped her chin, holding it fast.
"Everyone has dreams, Carly. Even you. Dreams. Fantasies. What about them?"
Her lips pursed into a thin, disapproving line.
"Don't deny it, cara. Dig a little deeper, search for them."
And she did. Her mind whirred with images, provocative and exciting, igniting flights of fancy she thought buried long ago
. The very thought of them flung her into a forgotten world, tingling with an intensity that brought her to life. Seconds ticked by and she thought she couldn't stand another moment, that her overwhelming need to touch and feel, to taste Marco's lips on hers, would send her over the edge.
But what on earth was she thinking?
An affair with a stranger? That wasn't her.
With a sharp groan, she wrenched herself from his grip and spun on her heels, racing for her room and slammed the door so hard it rocked on its hinges with a fierce shudder.
Wake up. This is paradise, fake reality. Carly sank down onto a cane chair and dropped her head into her hands. Heaven help her, she was just like her mother and sisters.
For a long, silent while she shut herself in her room sitting beside the window overlooking the golden sand. She hugged a cushion to her chest and stared numbly out at the view. A seagull, perched atop a craggy rock pool uncovered by low tide, cawed several times before flapping its wingspan and taking to the clear skies. Such a peaceful existence. No worries, no cares.
No dreams!
Carly sprang up. She didn't want to think about dreams, wild or otherwise. She had goals—clear, determined, get-out-of-my-way-I'm-coming sort of goals. Goals that didn't include a fantasy four-day fling, or any other sort of fling for that matter, and definitely not with a stranger.
With shoulders squared, and a determined set to her jaw once more, she eyed her reflection in the mirror. Wild hair haloed her elfin face and she screwed her nose up in distaste as she spied the light spattering of sun kisses.
Eyes, the color of deepest emerald and flecked with shards of gold stared back. They were alive with excitement.
Outside she heard Marco moving about and for a moment she stared at the closed bedroom door. She couldn't stay locked away. She had to go out and face her demons.
And right now, Marco Valente was her demon.
A tentative smile tilted the soft curve of her mouth. She scraped the pad of her thumb over her lips and for a fraction of a second her eyes shuttered as she remembered his touch, the feel of his body pressed against hers. His lips on hers, pliant and inviting, and definitely delicious. Oh yes, he was a demon to be handled with kid gloves. He needed a sign tattooed on his forehead—handle with care. She hadn't been prepared for Marco Valente.
"Feeding time at the zoo,” she announced as she opened the door with a flourish.
"I thought you had gone into hibernation?” he called as she stepped out from her sanctuary.
"Just a minor set back."
"Set back?” His eyes darkened. “I hope nothing serious."
"Nope. Everything is fine, absolutely dandy, and back on track."
"Back on track?"
Carly laughed. “Do you always repeat what people say?"
But he didn't smile. His expression was deadly serious. “Only when I'm completely lost as to the change in a person.” He turned away abruptly.
"Where are you going?"
"Out.” He shot back over his shoulder. “This genie is taking a break."
"Trust a man,” Carly muttered. “Can't stand the heat in the kitchen, they take off."
Damn it. Where had she heard that before? Heard it, and lived it.
"You don't know the meaning of heat,” Marco snarled. “Perhaps I should show you.” In two long strides he closed the gap between them and pulled her to him, crushing her in the circle of his arms. “Heat, cara, is this.” Swiftly, his lips sought hers. Hard and demanding it sent a shiver spiraling up and down her spine, easing only a fraction when he nibbled the corner of her mouth, his tongue flicking over the kiss-swollen pad of her bottom lip.
Full-blown pleasure radiated to the very tips of Carly's fingers. She laced her arms around his neck, and slid the tips of her fingers through is silky hair. It was so soft. She let out a mewling gasp of delight.
It was all the invitation Marco needed and his tongue teased a sensuous dance with hers, hands caressing her back, cupping the curve of her buttocks, pressing her into his hardness.
Carly felt it all and it thrilled her. Her heart raced and her pulses sang with a passion and seductive sensuality she had never felt before. Liquid heat beat a path to her loins, moistening her center, melting in its intensity.
Outside, the sounds of crashing waves reached up the beach, sharply breaking the barrier of her wanton need for more. A jolt of ice laced around her heart and she stilled.
"Cara?"
"No,” she pleaded, refusing to even look at him. She wrapped her arms around her as a protective coat of armor. “Don't say anything."
Marco's fingers caressed her shoulder, but Carly yanked herself out of his reach. “Please, Marco. Just leave me."
"You tease, cara."
"Tease?” Carly accused. “You started this Marco. It was you who kissed me."
"You can't deny you liked my touch."
"I do deny it. Don't touch me, Marco. Ever.” Unable to stop the tears, they streamed down her face.
"So you run away again, Carly Mason. Run from life, from living, from your fantasies."
"You're not my fantasy."
"Am I not?"
Carly heard the challenge in his voice and shivered. She was no match for him. “You're my paid employee, remember?” she shot back.
"Your gigolo?"
"The hired help, Marco. Paid to be attentive. But remember, I call the shots."
"Well see about that.” Gritting his teeth, his face steely and eyes darkly menacing he spun on his heels and stomped from the room.
* * * *
"Heat,” Marco spat out as he stormed up the beach. “She doesn't know what she's talking about.” He'd done everything he could to make her days a pleasure and then she went and froze him out. The moment he thought he'd broken through her self-imposed shell, the reserve she hid behind, she iced up and retreated.
Heat. Hell, his body was on fire like Mount Vesuvius and ready to explode. He bit back his hunger and passion. Held it in check. He was a man. He had to have control. Marco let out an agonizing groan and ran a hand through his hair. He was wrestling with his desire as never before.
Why on earth had he come here? He didn't need this. Playing cupid for some uptight woman who preferred a laptop on the beach to having a life; so much so, Marco reasoned, she had to hire a man to pose as her boyfriend.
Yeah, but you didn't have to agree to do it.
"That's a lie,” he spoke aloud. From the moment he saw Carly he would have done anything to meet her again. This oddball chance was a fortuitous bonus. Well, it would have been if he weren't so frustrated that he wanted to behave like Tarzan and carry Jane off to the treetops and make wild, passionate love to her.
Rounding the corner of the cove, Marco headed for one of the sand dunes and sat down. He yanked his mobile out of his pocket and a wave of guilt flashed over him. He'd told Carly he didn't have one. The opportunity to stay alone with her had been fervently overwhelming, so he had lied. Only a small one he rationalized, though somehow it didn't make him feel a whole lot better, simply worse.
Flicking the phone on he called his office, ensuring everything with the hotel plans were on course. Chad Burns reassured him, but as he hit the off button, a niggling worry twisted his gut.
It'd be okay. Only two more days. Then back to business. Back to what he knew and what he felt comfortable with.
Chapter 6
"I thought I'd managed to rid you of that accessory."
Carly threw a guilty look over her shoulder and struggled to douse the flutter in her stomach elicited the second she heard the heart-stopping timbre of Marco's voice. “You sneaking up on me again?"
Marco strode towards her and her tummy performed another series of flip-flops, the ever-present butterflies dancing an unbridled tango without so much as a whiff of concern for her sanity. It seemed every time he came within an inch of her, those same butterflies erupted into wild abandon whether she liked it or not.
As he came alongside
he offered her a luminous smile, a flick of his dark hair falling across his forehead. Her fingers itched to touch it, brush it back, to...
Stop it!
She clenched her jaw, gnawing at her bottom lip and her hands balled to fists at her side. Her nerves were shot.
"How much longer are you going to stay attached to that toy? You're wasting a beautiful day,” Marco advised as his gaze scanned the sun now high in the sky
"Not long.” Sighing, Carly turned back to her laptop, saved the document and sat back. “All finished. Satisfied?” She gave him an impish grin.
"Woman, don't you know about relaxing?"
"Sure I do. We did that yesterday. Besides I slept like a log, so I must have been relaxed, sort of, while you on the other hand Mr. Genie, paced up and down for hours.” Carly refused to listen to the silent nagging of her conscience. Truthfully, she hadn't slept a wink either. And it wasn't because of the heat. No siree. Marco Valente had a lot to answer for.
But this morning, as she stared up at him and a smile twisted the corners of his full mouth, she decided it best to ignore their heated ‘discussion’ from last night. Best to ignore the fire that raced through her every time he came within ten feet.
Carly laughed at his sheepish grin. “At least you have the decency to look guilty. How's a girl to get her beauty sleep with a genie waltzing around all hours of the night?"
For a moment Marco didn't speak, but when he did his voice was tinged with a velvety sexual undertone.
"Cara mia. You don't need beauty sleep. You are beautiful."
Sudden tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Marco. No one has ever said that to me before you."
"Never? What about boyfriends?"
"Boyfriend, singular. I don't have time to date.” Embarrassed and suddenly feeling defensive, she looked away, but Marco leaned forward and when his fingers grazed her cheek, his middle finger tipping her chin up so that her gaze was caught in the rich cerulean intensity of his, she didn't flinch.
"Look at me, Carly.” His authoritative tone was one she couldn't ignore and as a physical heat passed from the tips of his fingers to her own sensitive skin, she obeyed. It was as if he pierced her soul and could see right through the layers, the facade, and her defenses.
Hiring Cupid Page 6
