Married By Christmas Bundle: Anthology

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘How refreshingly honest,’ Marco drawled, despite the unexpectedly painful way her words stabbed into him. ‘To be able to speak the plain truth will be a relief. It was growing tedious thinking up new ways to flatter you. At least now we both know where we stand.’

  She stared up at him, her flashing eyes showing nothing but anger as she slid off the edge of the desk and stood facing him.

  ‘Come here and look at what’s happened!’ she demanded, pointing to the top of the desk where several ugly gouges scarred the leather and wood. ‘You knew that would happen. You made me leave my stilettos on deliberately.’

  Marco looked down at the gouges dispassionately. It had never occurred to him that that would be a possible outcome of leaving her shoes on.

  ‘Believe me, damaging the desk was the last thing on my mind,’ he said, remembering the erotic sight of her lying there half naked, bare breasts heaving, ready for the taking.

  ‘It was another part of your revenge,’ she accused him. ‘Deliberately defacing my father’s property.’

  ‘Your family took over the house fully furnished,’ he grated. ‘That was my father’s desk before it was your father’s. And, trust me, deflowering his daughter was far more satisfying than vandalising his furniture.’

  A wave of heightened colour washed across her skin, but she stood her ground, continuing to glare up at him.

  ‘How can you be so heartless?’ she asked. ‘With any luck he’ll be coming out of hospital soon. What’s he going to think when he sees that?’ She gestured towards the scarred desktop.

  ‘Look on the bright side,’ he said. ‘At least he’s not dying.’

  There was a sickening pause, his words hanging in the air for a moment before Claudia responded.

  ‘You beast!’ she gasped.

  The look in her eyes seared into him like a poisoned blade and a cold wave of self-disgust crashed through him.

  He was about to apologise—a comment like that could never be justified, no matter what a person had done. But then she rounded on him again, before he had a chance to speak.

  ‘Is there no blow too low?’ she demanded furiously. ‘Are there no depths you won’t sink to in your crusade against my family?’

  Her question struck deep, far too close to the bone for comfort, but his pride forced him to stare back at her steadily, not letting her see any reaction.

  ‘You bring out the worst in me.’ He shrugged, ignoring the slash of heat he felt burning on his cheeks.

  ‘I still want to collect the things my father asked for,’ Claudia said, picking up her bra and putting it on in front of him, without any sign of modesty about her body.

  That was a change from before, Marco realised. She seemed more confident in her actions. Normally she dressed shyly, trying to keep her body covered as much as possible while she struggled awkwardly into her clothes. He’d always liked watching her, finding it endearing. After all, if she was getting dressed, that probably meant they’d just been completely naked, making love.

  Now she seemed almost like a different person. It was as if bringing everything out into the open between them meant she no longer had to put on an act for him.

  That thought bothered him a disproportionate amount. He’d always known she was a liar. But he did not like the idea that even little things, like the way she got dressed, had not been real.

  ‘Make it quick,’ he said, turning away to pick up his jacket.

  He had to get out of the house. Just being there was messing with his head—making him lose his focus.

  ‘Your back!’ he heard Claudia gasp and he turned towards her. ‘There’s blood on your shirt,’ she said.

  He twisted round and looked in the large mirror that hung over the traditional fireplace. Sure enough, there were three streaks of blood on one of his shoulder blades, seeping through scarlet-red against his white shirt. Claudia must have dug her nails into his back when he’d brought her to the point of ecstasy.

  ‘It looks like the desk wasn’t the only thing to get gouged,’ he said.

  The sight of her mortified face in the mirror made him do a double take, but when he spun around to look at her properly she had erased her expression.

  ‘I hope it stings,’ she said coldly.

  Then a moment later she ducked down to pick up her lacy briefs from the floor, but not before he’d seen her expression return to one of embarrassment and discomfort.

  ‘Hurry,’ he said. ‘We have to get out of here.’

  He was suddenly keen to be on his way back to the city. Claudia might have seen another side of herself when she’d realised she’d dug her fingernails into his back while they were making love.

  But he was unsettled for an altogether different reason. Since they’d arrived at the house, he’d seen a side of himself he didn’t much like.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CLAUDIA stared at the Piedmont countryside slipping past outside the car window through a haze of unshed tears. She bit her lip, refusing to cry. She would not give Marco that satisfaction.

  But when she let herself think about everything that had happened that afternoon, and about all the awful things she had discovered, she felt as if she were falling into a monstrous black hole—as if she were being crushed into oblivion, until there was nothing left of her.

  It was impossible to come to terms with everything. There was too much to take in and she simply couldn’t process it all.

  Earlier that day, when Marco had told her that her father wasn’t dying, she’d been so happy. For a brief moment it had felt, somehow, that she’d got her own life back—as if things could return to normal.

  Then she’d remembered her wedding to Primo Vasile. Even though they’d lied to her about the severity of her father’s illness, she could not escape from Vasile’s blackmail. If anything, it made it vital that she cooperate. If her father was going to regain his health and eventually leave hospital, Vasile’s threat to take incriminating evidence to the police became more meaningful.

  Once again, it had seemed her life was horribly out of her own control and she would still be forced to submit to Vasile’s blackmail.

  Then Marco had launched his attack on her.

  And suddenly her whole world had been thrown into a tailspin of an altogether different magnitude.

  Just about everything Marco had said and done that afternoon had horrified her. She’d been subjected to a relentless bombardment of vicious accusations, unbelievable deceptions and harsh truths about the past.

  But nothing had hurt as badly as the discovery that everything that had ever happened between them had been a lie. Marco had been deceiving her from day one.

  Claudia shut her eyes and tried to close her mind too. Horrible thoughts were churning in her head, threatening to tear her apart from the inside. She couldn’t let herself think about any of it yet. It was too raw. Too overwhelming.

  She took several steadying breaths, opened her eyes and focused on the view outside the window, determined to keep calm.

  A magnificent winter sunset filled the western sky, painting it a brilliant tangerine with wide contrasting ribbons of silver-grey cloud slicing through it. The sun was a blazing ball of fire at the centre, made all the more dramatic by the stark black silhouettes of winter trees in the foreground.

  Suddenly her eyes filled with tears once more. Although she knew it was crazy, she wanted to talk to Marco about the sunset. She knew it was an irrational desire brought about by the memory of the relationship she’d once believed in—the relationship that had been a total sham—but that didn’t make the longing to talk to Marco any less real.

  They’d talked about anything and everything—she’d thought it was part of what had made them grow so close. He’d always understood what was on her mind, and never teased her when she wanted to talk about things other people might find silly.

  Her discovery that Marco had been using her should have obliterated any positive feelings she had for him. Those feelings had been bu
ilt on a web of deceit and should have come crumbling down when that web was destroyed.

  Instead, she wanted to talk to him about the sunset, and she found herself longing to go back to when things between them had been good.

  Why did her heart still yearn for him?

  Why did she want to talk to him when he had hurt her so badly?

  Because she was in love.

  Her heart skipped a beat and she clutched her hands together on her lap. She was still in love with Marco. After everything that had happened, every horrible thing he had said and done to her, she still loved him.

  She squeezed her eyes shut but she couldn’t squeeze out the truth. Marco had set her up. Lied to her. Manipulated her in the worst possible way.

  How could she still love him?

  ‘Are you going to answer that?’ Marco’s voice cut through her thoughts and she suddenly realised her mobile phone was ringing.

  She shook her head, trying to pull herself together, and drew the phone out of her bag. It was Francesca. Her stepmother had called repeatedly over the last few days, but after the first time Claudia had left her phone on silent, letting her voicemail pick up. She hadn’t wanted to speak to the woman who was in cahoots with her blackmailer. She’d agreed to do what they’d asked of her—wasn’t that enough?

  But now there was something important she wanted to ask Francesca.

  ‘Claudia, darling? Where are you?’ Francesca’s voice rang in her ears. ‘Why haven’t you returned my messages?’

  ‘I told you that I’d be there. And then I left you a message confirming when and where we’d meet in the Caribbean,’ Claudia said. ‘There was nothing else to say. I already told you I didn’t want to discuss the arrangements any more.’

  ‘But there’s so much to finalise. You haven’t chosen your—’

  ‘My father is not dying,’ Claudia interrupted. ‘Why did you lie to me?’

  There was a deathly silence.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Francesca asked. It was the first time Claudia had ever heard her sound so uncertain.

  ‘I was at the hospital today. The doctors explained everything—he’ll be well enough to come home soon.’

  ‘Yes, isn’t it wonderful?’ Francesca’s voice was falsely high and enthusiastic. ‘I was going to tell you the good news when I saw you in person—it’s not the sort of thing to leave on voicemail.’

  ‘Why not? It’s good news,’ Claudia asked.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Francesca said. ‘We’ll talk about it more when we meet up. But first there’s the question of your dress, the flowers—’

  ‘I’m not interested in any of that,’ Claudia said shortly. ‘You choose the dress.’

  ‘But really, darling—’

  Claudia snapped her phone shut, switched it off and tossed it back in her bag.

  Her worst suspicions had been confirmed. Francesca had deliberately lied to her when she’d told her that Hector was dying. She lifted her hands and pressed them over her face, subconsciously trying to rub away the feelings of betrayal and loneliness that were swamping her.

  She’d always known Francesca didn’t love her, or even like her very much. But she’d never thought her capable of such a cruel, unthinkable thing. Who could lie about something like that? Who would even want to?

  Claudia didn’t think of herself as naïve, but now she realised that was exactly what she had been. Francesca and Vasile had obviously been planning to blackmail her for some time, and had concocted the story about her father’s illness being terminal to give themselves extra leverage over her. How inconvenient it must have been for them when they’d discovered his health was improving.

  She’d been naive with Marco too. Maybe not at first. But when he’d appeared in London, and then in Wales, she should have sent him packing.

  But she couldn’t dwell on that now. She still had to think about her father and what she could do to keep him safe from Vasile. If Marco really intended to keep her from the wedding, then she was in trouble. Or rather—her father was. Because then Vasile would carry out his threat, and take the evidence he had on her father to the police.

  ‘Everything all right?’ Marco asked blandly.

  ‘Don’t try to sound like you care,’ Claudia said. ‘I thought you were the one who was pleased we were finally being honest with each other.’

  ‘You’re right, I do appreciate honesty,’ Marco said. ‘I thought I detected some tension in your telephone conversation. I was curious what it was about.’

  ‘That was my stepmother.’ Claudia was beyond guarding what she said. ‘She wants to know what dress I’ll be wearing for the wedding. I told her to choose for me.’

  ‘You do seem to have left that decision a little late,’ Marco said. ‘Will you be saying your vows on the beach at sunset?’

  ‘You tell me,’ Claudia snapped. ‘You seem to know more than I do.’

  ‘Details of the wedding and following celebrations are rather sketchy,’ Marco said without expression. ‘I can tell you the name of the official who is booked to perform the ceremony but, apart from that, not much. I suspect limited cash flow might be causing a problem.’

  Claudia turned sideways to look at him. It was rapidly growing dark—the roadside was lined with trees, which blocked out the final rays of light from the western sky—but she could just about see his face.

  ‘Why are you taking me to the Caribbean?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s where you want to go,’ he said. ‘You’ve just told your stepmother you’ll be there.’

  ‘It’s not where I want to go,’ she said. ‘And you told me you were not going to allow the wedding to go ahead—so why take me there?’

  ‘You’re right—it won’t go ahead as planned,’ he replied. ‘But I want Vasile to see you with me. And I want you to see what happens to people who cross me.’

  ‘I’ve already seen what you’ve done to me,’ she said bitterly, thinking about how he’d lied to her and made her trust him. How he’d humiliated her with her desire for him, even after she’d found out the truth.

  ‘No, you haven’t,’ he said. ‘I’m nowhere near finished with you yet.’

  A cold shiver prickled down her spine and she turned her head forward. The sports car was speeding along the country road, hungrily eating up the distance to the city. Soon they’d be on the motorway and she’d have barely any time left.

  The last few days had been overwhelming for her and she no longer felt any confidence in her own judgement. But suddenly she found herself considering telling Marco about the blackmail.

  What more harm could it do? She’d believed Marco when he’d told her that he would not allow the wedding to take place. But, if she didn’t marry Vasile, he would turn her father in to the police. She couldn’t let that happen—protecting her father was all she had to cling on to in the mess her life had become.

  ‘It’s not my choice to marry Primo Vasile,’ she blurted.

  ‘We always have a choice,’ Marco said, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.

  ‘They’re going to hurt my father if I don’t do it,’ she said.

  ‘How?’ Marco demanded, glancing at her with his piercing gaze. ‘How are they going to hurt him?’

  ‘I knew I shouldn’t trust you!’ Claudia cried, folding her arms across her chest and hugging herself tightly. ‘You just want to know what it is they have on him, so that you can use it yourself!’

  ‘I’m just interested,’ Marco said. ‘In all the years I’ve been following the situation, I’ve never found anything on your father. As far as I can tell, he’s kept his nose clean.’

  ‘The situation,’ Claudia echoed. ‘You are so cold! You are talking about my family.’

  ‘Because of what they—you—did to my family,’ he responded.

  ‘I was thirteen years old when we came to Turin!’ she gasped. ‘When all this started.’

  ‘You’re an adult now,’ Marco said. ‘Responsible for your own actions. You make your own dec
isions.’

  ‘I didn’t just decide to marry Primo,’ she said. ‘I told you—they are blackmailing me. Threatening to hurt my father!’

  ‘Blackmail—that’s a serious accusation,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can add that to the catalogue of crimes I’ll be using as evidence against Vasile. But I’ll need to know the details.’

  ‘I can’t tell you. I’m scared you’ll use the information against my father,’ she said, dragging her fingers through her hair, which was still tangled from their lovemaking. ‘And Primo will use it if I don’t go through with the wedding,’ she finished in dismay.

  ‘So it’s going to come out anyway,’ Marco said. ‘You might as well tell me now.’

  She bit her lip and turned away to stare blindly out of the passenger window. She didn’t know what to do, but she had to find some way to stop her father getting hurt.

  Marco put the folder of documents back into his briefcase and looked across at Claudia. She was still sleeping, curled up under a blanket in the aeroplane seat. They were halfway into their private flight to the Caribbean and she had already been asleep for a couple of hours.

  Marco was far too wired for sleep, despite the fact that he hadn’t had much rest over the past few days. He’d been trying to read the documents detailing the evidence he’d compiled against Vasile and Francesca—it was almost impossible to believe that his family would finally be avenged. But his thoughts had been completely overtaken by Claudia.

  He watched her sleeping. She was exquisite—more beautiful than when they’d first met four years ago. Maybe it was because she’d grown her fringe out and he could see the delicate arch of her brows and the smooth width of her forehead, but her stunning bone structure seemed to be even more defined. And her clear skin looked even more luminous, with the softest sheen like the finest silk.

  He looked at the gentle arc of her dark lashes, and pictured the incredible colour of her eyes. It wasn’t just the warm shade of golden brown that made them so arresting, it was the way they appeared to be lit from within, almost like tiger’s eye gemstones, which seem to glow in layers, drawing the eye deep into the precious stone.