She sucked in a breath as he lifted the hem of her nightshift, the slow glide of his hand up the length of her thigh instantly reminding her of why she was in his bed in the first place.
‘I can’t.’ She captured his hand to stall him, an apology in her eyes as she met his. ‘My period, remember?’
He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes so dark she felt herself drowning in their midnight depths.
‘I did not have you picked as coy about such things,’ he said at last. ‘It is terribly old-fashioned to be so squeamish about a perfectly normal bodily function.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘You have been doing a lot of apologising just lately.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘Is there anything else you need to get off your chest while you are at it?’
Nina’s eyes skittered away from his, her cheeks instantly growing warm. ‘No! No, of course not.’
‘Just asking.’ He brushed a strand of hair away from her mouth with a gentle touch which brought her troubled gaze back to his as he’d intended. ‘Sometimes, Nina, I think you are holding something back from me. Something important.’
He watched her throat move up and down in a small swallow, the nervous shadow moving behind her grey eyes another indication of her increasing uneasiness around him.
‘What could I possibly be hiding?’
‘I don’t know.’ He watched the play of emotions flitting across her face. ‘I have been trying to work out who the real Nina is but I keep drawing a blank.’
‘I find it hard to be myself around you,’ she said, absently plucking at the sheet with her fingers.
‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Because of my brother?’
No, because of my sister, she wanted to say, but couldn’t.
‘You’ve been so angry at me all the time,’ she said instead. ‘I’m not used to dealing with such a barrage of negative emotion.’
She heard him release a heavy sigh. ‘You are right. Andre’s death on the top of my mother’s knocked me sideways. I have not been myself for ages; sometimes I wonder if I ever will be again. But I meant what I said about a truce for Georgia’s sake.’
She lifted her eyes to his, her expression soft with empathy. ‘I do understand, you know.’
He gave her a twisted smile. ‘Yes, I suppose you do. You lost him as well and, even though you say you did not love him, when all is said and done he was still the father of Georgia, and that must count for something, surely.’
‘It counts for a lot,’ she said softly.
Marc settled himself back down with another deep sigh.
‘Better get some sleep, Nina,’ he said with his eyes closed.
Nina watched him for a long moment. The normally harsh lines of his face were more relaxed than she had ever seen before. She wanted to reach out with her fingers and trace over his aristocratic eyebrows, feel the ridge of his nose where it looked as if it had been broken some time in the past. She wanted to press her lips to the line of his, feel the way his mouth responded to her, fought with her, mated with her.
‘Marc?’ She whispered his name in the silence.
‘Mmm?’
‘I want you to know that I think you’re a wonderful substitute father for Georgia.’
She felt him reach for her hand, his long fingers squeezing hers momentarily. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I love her as if she were my own.’
‘So do—’ She stopped, her heart giving a hard ram against her ribcage at the slip of her tongue.
She waited in agonising silence for him to pick her up on it, her stomach rolling in panic, her heart racing until she could feel the blood thrumming in her ears. But his breathing had evened out, his chest rising and falling at neat intervals, indicating he was already asleep.
Nina eased herself back down beside him, her breathing gradually returning to normal as she realised that so far her secret was still safe.
But it had been close.
Far, far too close.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NINA woke the next morning to find Marc lying propped up on one elbow, silently watching her. She felt warm colour instantly flood her cheeks and wished she had the aplomb of her sister so that she could wake up next to a full-blooded man without blushing to the roots of her hair.
She made a move to leave the bed but his hand came down over hers and stalled her.
‘No, don’t run away. Lucia is caring for Georgia. You are entitled to a morning or two off. How are you feeling?’
She shifted her gaze. ‘I’m fine. The cramps have gone.’
‘Good.’ She heard him get out of bed but didn’t chance a glance his way, not sure she could cope with seeing his body without the shield of his clothes. ‘I have plans for you.’
‘Plans?’ She met his eyes briefly.
He shrugged himself into a bathrobe. ‘This is your first visit to Sorrento, is it not? I think it would be nice if we left Lucia with Georgia this morning while I show you around a bit. We can visit the church of San Francesco and have lunch at one of the restaurants in the centre of Sorrento at Piazza Tasso. Tomorrow we can explore the ruins of Pompeii and then drive to Positano for a late lunch.’
‘Are you sure Georgia will be—’
‘She will be fine,’ he reassured her. ‘My father will want to spend time with her, under Lucia’s supervision, of course. In the light of what occurred last night, I think it is best if both of us are not there.’
Nina was inclined to agree but didn’t voice it. She was still feeling terribly unsettled by the exchange between Marc and his father. Vito Marcello was undoubtedly an ill man and his drinking of obvious concern to Marc, but when she considered the back to back grief he had experienced so recently she could hardly hold it against him.
‘If there’s anything I can do…’ she offered, lowering her gaze once more.
It seemed a long time before he responded. ‘Just be yourself, Nina. You cannot do any more than that.’
His words were like a dagger to her heart. If only she could be herself!
The morning was sunny and clear, the cobbled streets filled with avid tourists intent on seeing this exquisite part of the Amalfi Coast. The view from the public gardens above the typical Italian square of Piazzo Tasso was spectacular and Nina couldn’t help feeling as if all of her worries and fears were gradually disappearing on the light breeze that gently stirred her loose hair whenever she faced the sea.
Being in Marc’s company was like a potent drug; the more she had, the more she wanted. She drank his presence in, filling her senses with everything she most loved about him: his tall commanding figure, his darker than night eyes that now held no trace of their previous hardness, the softer line of his mouth now that a smile had replaced its earlier line of contempt and the way his hand reached for hers, his long tanned fingers threading through hers as if he never wanted to let her go.
He walked beside her, his broad shoulder against hers as he pointed out various sites of interest, his deep voice stroking over her like a soft caress. ‘According to legend, it was here at Sorrento that Ulysses heard the tempting song of the Sirens, the nymphs who tried to entice passing sailors.’
Nina looked out at the sparkling water, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight as she tried to concentrate on what he was telling her instead of the way his lips moved when he spoke and how her stomach fluttered like a handful of butterflies every time he looked at her.
‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said and, after a short pause, turned to look up at him. ‘You must miss it terribly now that you live in Sydney.’
Marc’s eyes left hers to gaze out over the water. ‘Yes, but after my mother died I felt it necessary to get away.’ He gave a small sigh and turned back to look down at her, leaning his back against the terrace railing. ‘My father had decided Andre should set up the Sydney branch but it became clear after a while that he was not doing a good job of it.’
Nina held her breath, wondering if he was going to break his promise of a tru
ce and blame her sister—and thereby her—for distracting Andre from his work, but to her surprise he didn’t.
‘Andre was a party animal, not a merchant banker, but my father refused to admit it. He resented the fact that I could handle business better than his favourite son,’ he went on. ‘But I think, given enough time, my over-indulged brother would have ended up very much like my father is now—a bitter, broken man with the crutch of alcohol doing a very poor job of keeping him going.’
She put her hand on his, her fingers curling around his, her expression empathetic as she held his gaze. ‘Marc, I know you won’t believe this, but I know what it is like to be the unfavoured child. It hurts so deeply to think that no matter how hard you try you can never quite please the one you love the most.’
Something briefly flickered in Marc’s eyes and a small frown appeared on his forehead. He looked at her very intently and said, ‘I thought you were an only child.’
Nina froze.
‘How can you know what it is to be the unfavoured child when you are the only child?’ he asked when she didn’t respond.
The silence seemed endless as she hunted frantically for something to say.
‘I—I meant I can imagine what it must be like…you don’t have to have personal experience of something to understand what it is like—might be to feel that way…’ Her fractured sentence trailed helplessly away.
It was only a second or two at the most before he responded, but to Nina it felt as if a century had passed.
‘We should get back,’ he said, pushing off the railing and taking her arm. ‘The sun is starting to burn your face. I should have thought to tell you to bring a hat.’
Nina walked on unsteady legs as he led the way back to the car, her heart-rate all over the place at how close she had been to giving the game away.
The next few days passed in the same manner. Each morning Nina woke with Marc’s arms around her, his body warm and protective, although he did not touch her intimately, even though her body ached for his possession. After breakfast he would take her out for the morning while Lucia cared for Georgia so Vito could spend time with her in his favourite private garden on one of the many terraces.
Nina was fascinated by the site of Pompeii. The crumbling buildings with their tragic history, the ancient relics, including bodies frozen in time by volcanic ash, chilled her blood as she stood silently looking at them, wondering how the people must have felt trying to escape the fury of Mount Vesuvius.
‘It’s just so sad,’ she said when they came back out to the sunshine. ‘To think that they had no time to escape, nowhere to run and hide, no hope of protecting their loved ones…’
Marc looked down at her troubled expression as she gazed out over the vista of ancient ruins. It was hard at times like this to imagine her as anything other than a thoughtful caring young woman with a soft heart for those who suffered. Where was the selfish little whore now? he wondered.
During the first few evenings Vito Marcello ate alone in his suite, sending word down, usually at the last minute, that he did not wish to join them, but on the fourth evening when Nina came downstairs a short time after Marc she found both Marc and his father waiting for her in the dining room.
At first the meal was a somewhat stilted affair but it became apparent to Nina that Vito Marcello was doing his best to make up for his rudeness on the first evening she’d arrived at the villa. He also seemed to be making an effort not to drink to excess.
‘Georgia is a beautiful child,’ he said at one point. ‘I have enjoyed my time with her each morning. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of getting to know her.’
‘I’m glad you have enjoyed her, Signore Marcello,’ Nina said softly. ‘She is very special.’
He gave her a lengthy look and added, ‘Lucia has told me what a good mother you are. And, since my son has informed me you speak our language, I must beg your forgiveness for speaking of you so insultingly the other night.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve forgotten all about it.’
He cleared his throat and continued. ‘I must also apologise for the letter I sent you. Some of the things I said were…unforgivable. I am surprised you still agreed to marry Marc when you had such a weapon to use against us.’
Nina sat very still. Nadia had briefly mentioned a letter from Andre’s father but she hadn’t shown her the contents. Was Vito right? Had there been a way out of marrying Marc that her sister had deliberately kept hidden from her?
She felt Marc’s suddenly intent gaze and turned back to his father. ‘We all do and say things on the spur of the moment.’
‘You are very gracious,’ Vito said. ‘I had not thought you capable of it. I am afraid Andre did not paint a pretty picture of your personality.’
Nina found it almost impossible to hold the older man’s gaze. Lying to an old man, a dying one at that, seemed to her to be morally reprehensible no matter how altruistic the motivation behind it. She looked down at her plate, wondering how on earth she was going to get through the rest of the meal, when there was a knock at the door and one of the staff members came in at Vito’s command and politely informed Nina that there was a telephone call for her.
She felt the full weight of Marc’s gaze as she rose from the table, her legs threatening to give way beneath her as she made her way to the nearest telephone extension in the library down the hall. She closed the door behind her and, taking a deep breath, picked up the phone and held it to her ear. ‘Hello?’
‘Nina, it’s me, your alter ego,’ Nadia said with a giggle.
Nina’s hand tightened on the receiver. ‘How did you get this number? I told you not to call me! It’s dangerous.’
‘Surely I can call my own sister,’ Nadia said sulkily. ‘My married-to-a-billionaire sister,’ she added with a suggestive drawl.
‘You planned this, didn’t you? You purposely didn’t show me that letter.’ Nina asked. ‘You let me think I had no choice but to do as Marc and his father said, not telling me I had an escape route all the time.’
Nadia gave an amused chuckle. ‘You fell for it so easily. Now who is the smarter twin? You think you’re so clever with your university degree and gift with languages but you couldn’t even get out of the Marcellos’ plan for revenge.’
‘What do you want?’ Nina snapped. ‘I’ve transferred the money into your account. Don’t tell me you’ve already spent it.’
‘I have, actually,’ Nadia replied. ‘That’s why I’m calling you. I want more.’
‘More?’ Nina choked on the word.
‘You heard me, Nina. I want regular instalments, starting tomorrow.’
‘But I don’t have—’
‘Ask your husband to up your allowance.’ Nadia cut her off. ‘I want you to give me the bulk of it. That’s only fair, don’t you think? You have my baby so I should have your allowance.’
‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. What’s happened to Bryce Falkirk and your big film career?’
‘Like most of the men I’ve been involved with, he’s shown his true colours and left me high and dry,’ Nadia said. ‘That is why I’m relying on you to turn my life around.’
‘Surely that is up to you?’
‘One phone call, Nina,’ Nadia reminded her coldly. ‘That’s all it will take. Or maybe I will pay your husband a visit. That would be even more effective, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ Nina said through gritted teeth.
‘Oh, wouldn’t I?’ Nadia goaded.
‘He would take Georgia off me without a moment’s hesitation,’ Nina said. ‘She would be devastated; she thinks I’m her mother now.’
‘Do you think I care what happens to that kid? This is about money, Nina. Just do what you are told and your little secret will be safe. Ciao for now.’
Nina replaced the receiver and made her way back to the dining room with a sinking heart. She knew she had no choice but to tell Marc the truth before her sister got there first, but sh
e couldn’t imagine how she should go about it. How could she frame the words in any way that would not incite his bitter anger? He had every right to be furious at what she had done.
Marc rose from the table as she approached. ‘Is everything all right, Nina? You look as if you have heard bad news.’
‘No…nothing important.’ She forced her stiff lips into a smile that encompassed both Marc and his father. ‘I’m sorry for interrupting dinner.’
‘Not at all,’ Vito said, gesturing to the staff member nearby. ‘I am retiring early anyway. I am very tired. Buonanotte.’
Marc waited until his father had left before reaching for her hand across the table, his eyes holding hers. ‘Do you know what I think we should do, cara?’
‘N-no…what should we do?’
He gave a slow smile and rose from the table, pulling her with him. ‘I think we should do the same as my father and retire early. While you were on the phone Lucia assured me Georgia is still sleeping peacefully so we have the rest of the night to be together. It is time to commence our marriage in the proper sense of the word.’
‘Marc…I…’ She stopped mid-sentence. One night in his arms, and then she would tell him. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask? She would spend the rest of her life regretting it if she didn’t have him make love to her properly just this once.
‘I will not hurt you this time,’ he said, stroking a finger over her anxious brow.
She stepped closer, loving the feel of his arms going around her, trusting him with all her heart. ‘I know.’
He led her upstairs, his arm around her waist as they made their way to his suite, her heart picking up its pace when he closed and locked the door once they were inside.
He brushed his mouth with hers, once, twice, three times. His hands skated over her, his touch light but warm as he gently removed her clothes while she fumblingly did the same to his.
He pulled back the covers of the bed and sat down, tugging her down beside him, turning her so that she was beneath him as he pressed her backwards with a heated kiss. Her body responded hotly with each tantalizing thrust of his tongue, reminding her of the intimacy of the union she craved. He moved his mouth from hers and caressed each of her breasts in turn, the warm moistness of his mouth stirring her into a mindless frenzy of need.
Bought For The Marriage Bed (Bedded By Blackmail) Page 15
