by Nicola Marsh
‘When I left, I severed all ties.’
‘Why?’
‘For freedom.’
Freedom from fear, from tyranny, from a father who’d morphed into a monster.
Nick frowned in confusion. ‘You moved to London to be free of him and—’
‘But I’m not free. I’ll never be free until I’ve paid back every cent.’
Nick shook his head. ‘You’re not telling me everything.’
He stood, reached out to her, but she stubbornly backed away. ‘Tell me.’
‘I can’t.’
Her whisper faded into silence, finally broken by his exasperated sigh.
‘I’m your husband. I love you. I’m here for you, always.’
The concern, the sincerity, the honesty in that last word broke through her emotional barriers and she sagged against the window sill.
‘He hit me.’
‘That bastard! I’ll kill him!’
She didn’t know what she’d expected when she finally told someone the grimy truth after all these years, but seeing Nick furious, bristling with rage and ready to defend her, she suddenly knew she’d made a mistake bottling all this up.
If he hadn’t told her the truth when she’d left, she’d done him the same discourtesy, and if they were to have a future she needed to tell him, everything.
‘When I came to you ten years ago and asked you to leave, it wasn’t out of some misguided romantic notion. I had to leave. His escalating violence left me no option.’
He swore, viciously and voraciously, clenching his hands as if he’d like to thump something, preferably Darby.
‘He changed the moment Mum left. Then when we got news Mum died a year after she’d run off, the abuse escalated. A shove here, a bump there.’
She swiped a hand over her eyes, determined not to shed one more wasted tear over him. ‘Then he hit me. That’s when I knew I had to get out, as far away as I could get.’
‘You should’ve told me. I would’ve protected you.’
His cold-as-steel voice sent a shiver down her spine.
‘How? You had a farm to run, your dad to help. Besides, I asked you…’
‘And I turned you down.’
He swore again, thumped his fist on a table. ‘If I’d known—’
‘We’d already drifted apart, you’d pulled away from me emotionally, so I guess it came as no surprise when you said no.’
Another curse ripped through the air as he rubbed his neck.
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, I was an insecure jerk who pushed you away before you woke up one day and realised you were slumming it.’
Her mouth dropped open, his rueful grin annoying her more than his ludicrous assumption.
‘Since when did I ever give you the idea I was slumming it? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’
She refrained from stamping her foot, just, as he laid his hands out to her, palm up, in surrender.
‘People talked, I foolishly listened. Not that I needed a reason to sabotage us.’
‘What does that mean?’
Shaking his head, he thrust his hands into his pockets, but not before she’d seen them clench so hard the knuckles stood out.
‘It means I was so cut up about my mum running out on me, I didn’t want to allow another woman to get close, really close, let alone love her. When we first got involved I thought you had the perfect family. Two parents, money, everything you could possibly want, while I had nothing to offer you.’
She held up her hand, stopped him. ‘It was never about the money. Surely you knew me better than that?’
‘I guess I knew it deep down but I didn’t want to believe it. How could someone like you love a nobody like me?’
It was her turn to swear and he smiled. ‘You can’t reason with a young Italian male, especially one trying to hide his insecurities behind a black leather jacket and a Harley. But I’ve grown up, wised up.’
He took a step towards her, another. ‘I didn’t come after you last time because I was too proud and too stupid to risk being hurt. But now it’s different, I’m different, and it hurts too damn much being without you, so here I am.’
She’d wised up too, and if there was one thing she’d learned over the last decade it was to fight for what she wanted.
‘It’s good we’ve been honest if we’re to—’
She faltered, swallowed.
Was she really doing this?
Giving them a chance, ignoring her doubts, ignoring the sterile way their marriage started, ignoring the fear that screamed she’d almost died the first time she’d lost Nick, losing him again if this didn’t work would finish her off?
‘What?’
‘Have a future,’ she murmured, her eyes not leaving his, her heart’s choice vindicated by the explosion of elation in his unwavering stare.
His exuberant whoop echoed in the cavernous room as he picked her up and twirled her around until she was breathless from laughing.
When he finally stopped, she slid down his body, savouring the delicious contact, the spark of heat sizzling between them.
‘Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?’
‘Bet it’s not half as much as I’ve missed you.’
She caressed his cheek, her fingertips scraping the stubble. ‘I love London, but arriving back here and having to mend a broken heart courtesy of you for the second time sure as heck hasn’t been fun.’
‘Hey! You ran out on me!’
‘Oh, yeah…’
Her rueful grin had him chuckling as he pulled her flush against him, their hips moulding perfectly and exacerbating the slow build of heat as he traced lazy circles in the small of her back.
‘You know I love you, right?’
He stopped tracing circles, his gaze locked onto hers. ‘What did you just say?’
‘Don’t make me say it again, Mancini. Once a day is more than enough. A girl’s got her pride, you know.’
‘You’re in love with me? I mean, I’d hoped, but you’ve never actually said it and—’
‘Yeah, no accounting for taste.’
She shrugged, unable to keep a goofy grin from spreading across her face and her heart stopped as he captured her hand and raised it to his lips.
‘I.’
He placed a soft kiss on her palm, his tongue lightly tracing her lifeline until she shivered.
‘Love.’
He nibbled along her knuckles, grazing them with his tongue.
‘You.’
He nipped at the fleshy base of her thumb, sucking it gently until she moaned.
‘Good answer,’ she gasped as his mouth covered hers, stealing her breath along with her heart.
His mind-blowing kiss ignited the store of hope, happiness and dreams she’d harboured for so long, sending a surge of longing through her body that took every ounce of strength she possessed not to ravish him on the spot.
Nick Mancini loved her.
Her husband loved her.
She’d finally found the ‘something’ that had eluded her for so long and she couldn’t be happier.
‘So you’re serious about staying around?’
‘Hell yeah.’
He kissed her to prove it, a delicious, desperate, devastating kiss packed with emotion and feeling and love, so much love.
When they finally came up for air, he smiled, the slow, sexy smile that set her pulse tripping as he reached to cup her face in his hands.
‘I thought starting the Phant-A-Sea chain was the best thing I’d ever done, but I was wrong. You’re my fantasy and there’s no one I’d rather live my dreams with than you.’
‘Keep that up and you’ll have me blubbering again.’
‘I love you, Red. Will you live the dream with me? For ever? As my wife?’
He kissed her, tenderly, softly, as if knowing she needed a moment to recover from the ecstasy of hearing the guy she’d loved for ever pledge his life to her.
‘You bet I will,’ sh
e whispered against the side of his mouth, knowing that, as far as dreams went, this one was the stuff made of legends.
EPILOGUE
‘YOU sure you wouldn’t like to elope?’ Nick asked, sitting on a suitcase while Brittany struggled with the zip. ‘We’ve got the most romantic cities in the world on our doorstep. How about Paris? Or Venice? Wouldn’t you like to renew our vows there?’
‘We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. And the answer is still no.’
Brittany tugged on the zip, wondering how she always managed to pack way too much stuff considering she ended up only using half of it. ‘Just move your butt a little to the left, if you don’t mind.’
‘Like this?’
Nick wiggled towards her with a sexy grin.
Biting back an answering grin, she slapped his butt playfully, letting her hand linger on his firm muscles. ‘As impressive as I find this fine piece of anatomy, could you actually concentrate on the task at hand?’
‘Hey, I’m not the one losing concentration here.’
He picked up her hand and returned it to the zip. ‘Now, hurry up. The sooner you finish, the sooner you get to have dessert.’
Her mouth always watered at the prospect of Nick’s cooking, and tonight she had a feeling he’d whipped up one of her favourites.
‘Tiramisu?’
‘Maybe.’
‘You’re a hard man, Nick Mancini.’
‘Only around you, sweetheart,’ he murmured, his double entendre sending an illicit thrill through her.
Heat seeped into her cheeks and she gave one, last hefty tug on the zip, grateful when it finally slid into place.
‘You’re wicked too. Now, where’s my reward?’
Nick slid off the case and hauled her into his arms. ‘Right here.’
She feigned indifference, a difficult job considering her favourite place in the world was right here in his arms. ‘Dessert sounds more tempting.’
‘I’ll show you tempting,’ he muttered, nuzzling her neck in the sensitive spot at the base, just above her collarbone, until she squealed.
‘Okay, okay. You’ve made your point. Now can I have dessert?’
She slid her hands up his back, caressing the sinews, revelling in the hard muscles beneath her hands.
She’d lived with this man for one, incredible year and, rather than tiring of each other, their love grew stronger every day. How did she get so lucky?
Nick dropped a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips. ‘You’re insatiable.’
‘For food too. Now, dessert!’
Chuckling, he held her hand and led her into the kitchen of her Chelsea apartment, sat her down and made a big show of unveiling dessert.
‘I hope this is to your satisfaction, miss?’
He bowed low while placing a huge serving of tiramisu in front of her.
She licked her lips and patted his butt again. ‘Oh, I’m very satisfied. Care to join me?’
‘Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,’ he said, slipping onto the chair next to her and opening his mouth for the little piece of heaven on a fork she offered him.
Taking a healthy mouthful herself, she sighed in bliss as the blend of sweet ecstasy burst on her taste buds. ‘You really are one heck of a catch. Master chef, billionaire hotelier, plantation owner. Which, by the way, was a master stroke of genius, hanging onto the farm so we can let our kids get their hands dirty when they tire of playing hide and seek in all those fantasy rooms at the hotel. Sure you want to be stuck with little ol’ me?’
Every now and then, the fear of the past ten years—the endless, lonely years when she’d convinced herself Nick didn’t care—raised its head. Thankfully, he quashed it in typical Nick fashion.
‘You’re the love of my life, Red. Where else would I be but by your side? Besides, I need to stick around if we’re to make some of those kids you just mentioned…’
Her throat clogged with tears, she leaned forward and kissed him, licking a tiny glob of cream from the corner of his sexy mouth.
‘Eloping sounds kind of neat, but I think we should head back to Jacaranda to renew our vows like we planned.’
He pulled back, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt.
‘You sure? We’ve made our own memories here. Why not leave the past in the past?’
‘The past can’t hurt me any more. I made my peace with Dad before he died and nothing I feel now is going to change what happened. But Jacaranda means a lot to you and to me too. It’s where we grew up, where we met, where we first fell in love…’ She trailed off, blinking back the tears in earnest now.
‘I can’t believe you actually loved me all those years ago. I was convinced you were only interested in having me along for the ride to London because you were scared of being alone, being the uptight little princess you were.’
‘And you’d be the expert to judge, being the troublemaking rebel you were.’
He laughed and cupped her cheek. ‘You’re gorgeous when you fire up. Always have been.’
‘Yeah, well, you bring out the worst in me.’
‘And the best.’
He inched towards her, his fingers feathering against her face, caressing with infinite skill and patience. ‘I love you. Now and for ever.’
‘Now and for ever,’ she murmured, a second before their lips met in a burst of sweetness and light and untold promise.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4798-1
MARRIAGE: FOR BUSINESS OR PLEASURE?
First North American Publication 2010.
Copyright © 2009 by Nicola Marsh.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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