The Italian's Marriage Bargain (Hot Italian Nights Book 7)

by Annie West

  Like telling herself all the reasons being with Massimo Conti was a bad idea. Because the way he looked at her, at once earnest and determined, reminded her of that summer long ago when he’d declared his love and she’d been so swept away by excitement she hadn’t paused to question how likely that was after such a short time. She’d fallen for him in a heartbeat, but the chance of him truly loving her? Only an innocent would have taken his words at face value.

  His eyes locked on hers as he stepped closer. Not near enough to touch, but at this distance she was fascinated to see his eyes gleamed more green than grey.

  ‘Angela said you’d been hurt by someone. A man.’ He drew a slow breath, as if waiting for her to reply.

  She couldn’t. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. Angela had said that? Gina wished the honey-toned floor would open up and let her disappear. She’d shared barely a hint of her past with her friend. She hadn’t expected her to blab that to Massimo of all people.

  Gina jutted her chin higher, her eyebrows lifting, silently daring Massimo to continue.

  ‘It made me wonder if that person was me. If it was our breakup that made you so—’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ The words gushed out. ‘Angela doesn’t know what she’s talking about.’

  ‘She seemed to.’ Still Massimo didn’t look away. All his attention was focused on her, reminding her of the absolute absorption he brought to bear on things that were important to him. But she hadn’t been one of those things for many years.

  ‘If that’s all I—’

  ‘Because if I hurt you, I’m sorry. I was young and stupid and sure I had all the answers. I know now that I didn’t.’

  Gina felt her jaw sag. Massimo apologising? It was too much to take in. She was torn between wanting to hear more and knowing it was too little, too late. If he’d bothered to say sorry all those years ago maybe they’d have had a chance. But not now.

  Yet instead of changing the subject, of walking away, Gina found herself canting towards him.

  ‘What do you mean – if you hurt me? Of course you hurt me!’

  He’d said he wanted her but then, as soon as his family called, everything they’d planned, everything they’d hoped for, was suddenly unimportant. She’d applauded his family loyalty but what about loyalty to his wife? Surely there’d been room for compromise, but Massimo hadn’t seen it that way. He’d demanded, not asked or explained, much less listened.

  ‘Don’t worry, Massimo. I got over it.’

  ‘So you’re saying the way you are isn’t because of me?’

  ‘The way I am?’ Gina drew herself taller, reminding herself she was an expert at hiding pain and self-doubt. He couldn’t possibly know how hard this was for her. Yet her mouth dried.

  Once more that shrug that made a show of all those delectable muscles.

  ‘You’re vibrant, talented and determined, Gina. But there’s a brittleness too, as if you don’t want me to see how much you feel. You never used to be like that.’

  Shock washed through her like a tide, leaving her lost for words. Gina told herself Massimo couldn’t possibly tell how she felt. He was guessing, based on her friend’s well-meant but unguarded words.

  Yet she felt part of her defences crumble as Massimo took another step towards her.

  ‘Stop right there.’ She put an arm out, palm facing him. ‘Whatever you’re imagining, don’t. I don’t need anything from you, Massimo. Not your apologies or your speculation.’

  He stood, scrutinising her as closely as any director watching a day’s film rushes.

  ‘I told myself it was some other man who hurt you. Some lover after me. But you know what?’ His mouth curled up in a smile that held no humour. ‘The idea of you with anyone else makes me sick here.’ He slammed a hand to his flat belly, the action reinforcing the stunning impact of his words.

  Gina’s head spun. Shock vied with anger and, to her horror, delight, at his jealousy.

  No. No. No. She wasn’t going there.

  ‘You have no right to feel jealous. You gave that up years ago. My relationships are none of your business.’

  Even though there hadn’t been any relationships. She’d thrown herself into work, telling herself one day, when the time was right, she’d find a man worthy of her love. But the time had never been right, just as it had never been right for her to initiate a divorce. She’d supposed she’d get around to it one day. Meanwhile she wasn’t ready for the press frenzy if their spur of the moment marriage became public just because they ended it.

  Gina had thought it so wonderful when she left Italy for that important audition that Massimo had followed her, producing legal papers for a marriage. Their whirlwind wedding had been impossibly romantic.

  No wonder it had failed. Marry in haste, repent at leisure.

  Massimo folded his arms across his chest, the image of pure, belligerent male. Gina told herself she despised him. Unfortunately she got a secret thrill, watching him.

  ‘We’re still married, Gina.’

  ‘Sure. And I suppose you’ll tell me you haven’t been with another woman since we split.’

  As if!

  Massimo simply held her gaze with the confidence of a man who knew exactly where he stood, while she swayed like a sapling in a breeze. This conversation was so unreal she still couldn’t believe it.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I am telling you that. I haven’t slept with another woman in seven years.’

  Gina slapped her free hand on her hip and huffed her indignation. ‘Quit being pedantic. You may not have slept with any but—’

  ‘I haven’t had sex since you left me. Is that clear enough?’

  Stunned, Gina felt her mouth work but no sound emerged. Shock scrabbled at her windpipe, stopping the breath in her lungs.

  ‘You can’t ask me to believe...’

  ‘Whatever you think of me, Gina, I’ve never lied to you.’ His eyes seared her. She was burning up, combusting from the inside out.

  ‘So you’ve been celibate all this time?’ She’d intended to sneer the words but instead sounded merely stunned.

  ‘Celibate and very, very frustrated.’

  The blaze of heat in Massimo’s steady gaze extinguished any belief that he lied.

  Suddenly everything Gina thought she knew about him, about them, folded in on itself, like a box squashed flat. She stared up into the face of a man who looked stripped bare, except for raw honesty and a pride that dared her not to believe him. As if he’d relish the chance to parry her words.

  Gina’s fingers dug into the soft parcel. Her peripheral vision dimmed and for a second she wondered if she might faint.

  But there was no easy escape from this conversation.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me why?’

  She didn’t want to know. It was none of her business. Their marriage was over.

  ‘Why?’ Her voice cracked on the word.

  ‘Because I never stopped wanting you, Gina.’

  Her breath locked and so did her knees, as her legs turned to rubber. Deep inside emotion swirled faster and faster, into a roiling, uncontrollable mass. She felt her eyes widen.

  ‘I still want you.’

  Gina prided herself on facing what life threw her way, no matter how difficult. Yet, for the second time in twenty-four hours, she wanted to stumble to the sanctuary of her room.

  Instead she made herself stand tall, as if he hadn’t poleaxed her with his words. As if she didn’t fight the urge to snuggle up to him and admit he wasn’t the only one wanting. It was just sex. It had to be. She refused to let it be anything more than that.

  ‘Then I suggest you get over it. Because I’m not, ever, going to be yours again.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  The applause was thunderous, enough to make Massimo’s head spin, especially since he was already lightheaded from lack of sleep.

  Roberto, the House of Conti’s designer, stood, smil
ing and nodding, surrounded by models dressed in the stunning outfits that would hopefully take the Conti name to the next level. Judging by the reception from the crowd, some of the richest, best-dressed people across several continents, plus a slew of fashion writers, they were off to a good start.

  Years of hard work were bearing fruit. The Conti name was no longer in danger of being dragged through the mire. Instead it shone brighter each day.

  Yet it wasn’t enough. Work success and family obligations weren’t enough. He wanted more. Living in the same space as Gina these last few days had only brought home to him how much he’d missed her, how incomplete his life felt.

  ‘They want you.’ The soft voice in his ear was barely audible over the applause.

  He turned as Gina nudged his elbow. He looked down and saw her beautiful indigo eyes held something he hadn’t seen in a long time. Pride. Encouragement. Pleasure.

  The sight transfixed him.

  He’d forced her to Milan with threats. Nothing between them was resolved. Yesterday she’d roundly rejected him and had avoided him ever since, not difficult given his crazy work demands.

  Yet here she was, moved by the success of the show. His show. Warmth filled him. Because she was happy for his success.

  Or maybe she’s just showing what a spectacular actress she really is. She’s probably relieved to be halfway through this week together.

  Urgency cramped his innards. He needed more, so much more.

  ‘They want you up there, Massimo. Go and take your bow.’

  He didn’t want to leave Gina. Massimo felt good with her at his side. Even if her attentiveness was a charade for public consumption.

  But Gina was pushing him forward and the spotlight was on him, so he nodded and went up to accept the accolades. He waved to the crowd as he crossed the room, but inside he felt galvanised with a grim determination. He had to break through to his wife before their week ran out. Nothing, not even the admission he’d been faithful to her, had moved her.

  She was an ice queen, cool and remote. Yet he knew, none better, that at heart she was passionate and vibrant. His belly turned molten as he remembered Gina in his arms, feisty and feminine, demanding and delicious.

  It had been so impossibly long that just thinking about her response to him turned his walk stiff as he fought to control his body’s unruly arousal.

  Finally Massimo made it to the podium, acknowledging the applause. This was another huge step towards the success he’d envisaged for the company and it was a real pleasure to give a short speech acknowledging the hard work of the Conti team.

  Even so, much of his attention was on the red-headed beauty in a bright fuchsia pink dress that stood out from all the predictable black. She was the most eye-catching, stunning woman in the room. He didn’t even care that he’d had to field questions on why she wasn’t wearing the Conti label. All he cared about was breaking through to her. Keeping her.

  But how could he win her back?

  He’d apologised for hurting her. He’d even laid himself bare, admitting he hadn’t been with a woman since her. Yet she remained resolutely unimpressed.

  He snared her eyes across the crowd and the instant arc of sizzling connection gave him his answer.

  It was time for something stronger, something he knew she’d respond to.

  Seduction.

  *

  Gina hurried into the apartment building beside Massimo, trying to keep up with his long-legged stride. She was hampered by eye-wateringly high heels, but she’d been determined to hold her own amongst a who’s who of the fashion industry, knowing she’d be under microscopic scrutiny.

  The show had been enormously successful and, despite her seesawing emotions, Gina couldn’t help but be proud of what Massimo and his team had achieved. The House of Conti would be on everyone’s lips with those fabulous designs. There’d been a younger vibe to the collection, appealing to a much broader audience than she’d expected from an old, family-run company.

  Her conversations with Sonia, the independent Australian designer, had given her a new appreciation of how much work had gone into reinventing the Conti label. Especially when Sonia had heard rumours that Gina hadn’t, about some unspecified but significant problems in the business that had now been overcome.

  What were they? For years Gina had assured herself she wasn’t the least bit interested in the Conti company. Now she wished she’d kept her ear to the ground.

  Was it crazy to respect what Massimo had achieved? After all it had been at the cost of their marriage, since he’d demanded she quit her career to support him while he ran the family company. How perverse was that?

  Gina slanted a sideways glance at the handsome man beside her and felt that too-familiar tug of awareness through her insides. What she needed was distance.

  She tried to conjure indignation at Massimo’s outrageous blackmail. But for once that didn’t work. Indignation wasn’t effective against the man who’d admitted he’d made mistakes in their relationship and actually apologised.

  The man who’d looked at her with that sizzle in his eyes and told her he hadn’t been with a woman since they split.

  Gina told herself it was a tactic to blindside her. But Massimo had never outright lied to her before.

  When he’d looked her in the eye and said he still wanted her, it felt like he was about to eat her all up. And she’d quivered in anticipation! She’d only just managed to escape to her room before she did something mind-numbingly crazy like tell him she’d been celibate too, because no man had ever made her feel the way he did.

  Crazy indeed! She’d loved him madly but losing him had almost destroyed her. Only stubborn pride and the frantic need to throw herself into acting had saved her.

  Gina blinked and realised she’d stopped behind Massimo as he worked the security device on the apartment’s front door. She had no memory of coming up from ground level. She’d been so lost in abstraction, thinking about the man before her. The man whose broad shoulders filled her vision and who turned a sombre suit into the hottest thing she’d seen in years.

  Gina swallowed hard as he swung the door open and gestured for her to precede him inside.

  The scent of spice and pines and hot man filled her nostrils as she hurried past, transporting her to the weekends they’d once spent in the mountains. They’d stayed in a snug little chalet with spectacular alpine scenery that had fascinated city-bred Gina. Not that she’d got to explore the mountains very much. She’d been too busy exploring Massimo’s toned, hard body with its fascinating ridges and lines of muscle and its incredible capacity for pleasure.

  Heat drenched her as surely as if she’d walked into a sauna. She felt her cheeks flame and was grateful for the painstaking effort she’d put into her makeup. Massimo could have no idea how he affected her.

  Except, as she looked up to where he now loomed beside her, it was to find his gaze locked on the fluttery pulse in her throat. Worse, she’d lifted her hand to that unsteady throb, so her fingers hovered there, a dead giveaway.

  Gina dropped her hand and stepped further into the apartment.

  Massimo moved with her, his tall frame mirroring hers, making her falter to a stop halfway across the entry hall.

  Her heart beat rough and hard and she had to work to unlock seized vocal chords.

  ‘I need to go and get out of these shoes.’ Her voice sounded scratchy. She forced a smile. ‘Congratulations again on your huge success. You must be pleased.’

  ‘Thank you. I am.’

  Yet Massimo didn’t look as if he had the House of Conti on his mind. His gaze traced a line of fire from Gina’s throat, down to the straight cut of her bodice across her breasts. Too tight now that her breasts swelled under his regard. The perfectly comfortable bra she wore now seemed too small and the silky fabric rasped her nipples like sandpaper.

  Gina breathed slowly, searching for control. She wasn’t a naïve innocent anymore to be distracted by a man’s stare. Even if that star
e was glazed hot with arousal.

  Even if that stare found its echo in her own eager regard.

  She shifted back a half step and once more Massimo mirrored the movement.

  ‘Stop it!’

  ‘Sorry?’ His gaze trawled back up, this time to her mouth, and Gina felt a shudder of animal response. Just to his stare!

  It was infuriating and unacceptable. It made a mockery of her vaunted independence from this man, this...blackmailer.

  ‘Stop these games, Massimo. I don’t know what you think you’re up to but I don’t want to play. I’d appreciate it if you’d get out of my way.’

  Somehow he’d got between her and the door into the rest of the apartment. Gina put a hand behind her and found she’d backed up to a wall.

  ‘I’m not playing games, Gina.’ His eyes lifted and she felt herself falling into that mesmerising gaze. ‘I’ve never been more serious in my life.’

  Serious about what?

  No, she didn’t want to go there. She knew that look, just as she knew the once-experienced-never-forgotten tug of carnal excitement low in her body.

  ‘I’m not in the mood for celebrating your success with sex.’

  A muscle jerked in his jaw and those brilliant eyes snared hers again. Did she imagine it or was that a splinter of hurt she saw there?

  Impossible. Despite what Massimo had said about not being with another woman in years, it was Gina who’d been hurt when they split, not him. She’d left a vital part of herself behind with him, and it had been a struggle to go on, whereas he hadn’t once looked back, until he decided he wanted to cash in on her fame.

  His mouth lifted at one corner in an expression that revealed grim humour.

  ‘This isn’t about celebrating, Gina. This is about us.’

  She shook her head, soft curls bouncing around her shoulders. ‘There is no us.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ His words were whispered but she heard them clearly for now the space between them had dissolved and they stood toe to toe. Gina’s head tilted back so she could maintain eye contact. Even in heels she couldn’t match his height.