Latin Lovers: Italian Playboys. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ she could unbuckle the clasp Marc’s hand closed over hers and she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

      She edged her hand out from under his and straightened to her full height but he still towered over her, his body far too close for her to breathe with any comfort.

      ‘Even if you do not choose to eat I have things I wish to discuss with you,’ he said.

      ‘W-what sort of things?’

      ‘Ground rules, that sort of thing. I do not want you under any misapprehensions as to our arrangement.’ ‘I can’t imagine what you mean by that.’ ‘Can you not?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Living in the same house will mean we will, by necessity, be sharing a certain level of intimacy. I would not want you to get the wrong idea.’

      She elevated her chin and injected her tone with sarcasm. ‘Who exactly are you reminding of the terms of our agreement—you or me?’

      His eyes hardened a fraction and a tiny nerve began to leap at the side of his mouth as if he was fighting with himself to remain civil.

      ‘From what my brother told me, it appears you do not always play by the rules. It would do you good to remind yourself of them just in case you are tempted to act outside the boundaries I have laid down.’

      ‘While we’re speaking of breaking the rules, I thought your kiss was a little inappropriate at the ceremony,’ she put in crisply.

      His dark eyes hardened as they held hers. ‘There will be times when we will be required to keep up appearances.’ ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘We will have functions to attend occasionally and as my wife you will be expected to act in a certain way towards me.’ ‘You mean fawn over you?’ She gave him a disgusted look. ‘I would not have put it quite like that.’ ‘How would you put it?’

      ‘All I am asking is for you to show some level of maturity when we are in the company of others. Apart from my housekeeper and of course my father, everyone else assumes this is a normal marriage.’

      ‘I’ll do my best but I’m not making any promises,’ she said.

      ‘Good. As long as we both know where we stand.’

      He turned away and left the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

      Nina looked down at her niece, who was staring up at her with dark eyes bright and round with interest.

      ‘Men,’ she said, scooping her up into her arms. ‘Who can work them out?’

      Georgia gave her a wide toothless smile.

      ‘Maybe I should try that,’ she mused as she cuddled Georgia close. ‘It seems to work for you. You only have to look at him and he melts.’

      She buried her face in the soft down of the baby’s dark hair and sighed.

      Once Georgia was asleep later that evening Nina had a shower and changed into one of her comfortable tracksuits. Her damp hair was scraped back in a high ponytail, her face free of make-up and her feet bare.

      She was on her way down the stairs when the door of the large lounge opened and Marc stood in its frame, his eyes taking in her casual appearance in a sweeping glance.

      ‘Dressing down for the evening?’ he commented wryly.

      ‘One gets so tired of haute couture.’ She fabricated a bored yawn, ‘Besides, lugging all that expensive material around sapped my energy.’

      ‘You look about fifteen years old.’

      ‘Would you like me to change?’ she asked, giving him a direct look.

      ‘No.’ He stepped aside to let her in the room. ‘You look fine. Great, in fact.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she said simply, clutching the small compliment to her gratefully, hoping he wouldn’t see how much he had affected her.

      ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked.

      ‘Something soft,’ she answered.

      ‘No alcohol?’

      ‘I don’t drink.’

      He gave her an assessing glance as he handed her a glass of sparkling mineral water. ‘A reformed drinker?’ he observed. ‘How very commendable of you.’

      Nina wished she had the courage to toss the contents of her glass into his arrogant face. However, given her sister’s behaviour over the last few months, she knew that his opinion, although distasteful, was probably warranted. Nadia had come in far too many times in a state of heavy inebriation for her to be under any illusions about the truth of his comment.

      ‘There are a lot of things I have changed in my life lately,’ she said instead.

      He took a leisurely sip of his drink before responding. ‘Dare I hope Andre’s death has made some sort of impact on you to bring about these changes?’

      If only he knew how it had impacted on her!

      ‘It would be an insensitive person indeed who wasn’t in some way affected by the untimely death of another,’ she answered.

      ‘Do you miss him?’

      Nina stared into the contents of her glass, wondering how Nadia would respond.

      ‘I try not to think about it,’ she said.

      ‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘If you thought about it you would have to take some responsibility for it, would you not?’

      She kept her eyes down, unwilling to face the venom in his. ‘I did not have anything to do with the death of your brother.’

      She heard the sharp chink of his glass as he set it back down and stepped backwards instinctively as he came towards her, his eyes narrowed into dark slits of wrath.

      ‘Do you think by saying that enough times it will change what you did?’ he asked.

      Nina wished she could tell him the truth. The words hovered on her tongue but every time she opened her mouth she thought of Georgia and swiftly closed it again.

      ‘You have guilt written all over you,’ he said. ‘I can barely look at you without thinking of my brother’s final agonising minutes trapped in that car while he bled to death.’

      Nina felt sick.

      Marc swung away to refill his glass and she took the chance to draw in a ragged breath, her hands twisting in front of her in anguish.

      She knew he was still grieving and was entitled to feel the whole spectrum of human emotions, including anger, but it didn’t help to have it directed solely at her. She didn’t have the hardened exterior of her twin to deal with such heavy criticism. Each time he berated her she felt as if another part of her was dying.

      She turned to leave the room.

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