Marrying the Italian: The Marcolini Blackmail Marriage / The Valtieri Marriage Deal / The Italian Doctor's Bride. Caroline Anderson

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      Claire felt her eyes flare in panic. ‘You can’t mean for me to spend the night with you? Not yet. I’m not ready. It’s too soon.’

      He gave her an imperious smile, like someone who knew the hand they were about to spread out on the table was going to be a royal flush. ‘You want to pull out of our deal?’ he asked, reaching for his mobile. ‘I can call Frank and tell him the police will be there in half an hour to pick up your brother and press charges on him.’

      Claire clenched her hands beneath the table again. ‘No, please,’ she choked. ‘Don’t do that…I…I’ll stay with you…’

      His dark eyes travelled over her face for a pulsing moment. ‘I will not force myself on you, Claire,’ he said. ‘You surely do not expect me to act so boorishly towards you, do you?’

      She compressed her lips, waiting a beat or two before she released them. ‘I’m not sure what to think…’ she confessed. ‘We’re practically strangers now…’

      ‘Even strangers can become friends,’ he said. ‘If nothing else, would that not be a good outcome of this three-month arrangement?’

      Her eyes were wary as they met his. ‘I can’t imagine us exchanging Christmas cards and newsy e-mails, Antonio. Besides, we come from completely different worlds. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking, getting involved with you in the first place.’

      ‘Then why not tell me about your world?’ he said. ‘You hardly ever mentioned your family when we were together. You did not even want them to come to our wedding, though I offered to pay for their flights. I have never even seen a photograph of any one of them.’

      Claire felt a tide of colour creep into her cheeks. ‘They are my family, and I love them,’ she said, knowing she sounded far too defensive. ‘They’re not perfect—far from it—but things have not been easy for any of them. My mother in particular.’

      ‘What is she like?’ he asked. ‘You told me so little about her in the past.’

      She tucked a corkscrew of curls behind her left ear, wondering where to begin. ‘She’s had a hard life. She lost her mother when she was in her early teens, and I guess because she felt so rudderless got pregnant at sixteen. Like a lot of other girls left holding the baby, she looked for love in all the wrong places, with each subsequent relationship producing a child but no reliable father. As the eldest and the only girl I kind of slipped into a pseudo-parenting role from an early age. My brother Callum is doing OK now, after a bit of a wild time in his teens, but it’s Isaac I worry about. He’s a little impulsive at times. He acts before he thinks.’

      ‘He is young, and will eventually grow out of it if he is pointed in the right direction,’ Antonio said. ‘Frank Guthrie will be a good mentor for him. It sounds like your brother needs a strong male influence.’

      Claire lifted her eyes back to his. ‘Where did you meet this Frank guy?’ she asked. ‘I don’t recall you mentioning him in the past.’

      ‘I operated on his brother Jack about eighteen months ago,’ he said. ‘He was involved in a head-on collision just outside of Rome. There was a lot of facial damage. We had to put plates and screws in his forehead and cheeks, and rebuild both of his eye sockets. He was lucky to survive. No one thought he would come through, and certainly not without heavy scarring or disfigurement. I got to know Frank, who had flown over to be with him. He spent a lot of time at the hospital, so we often had a coffee and a chat after my ward rounds.’

      ‘It must be very rewarding, seeing people recover from something like that,’ she said. ‘Your parents…I mean your mother…must be very proud of you.’

      He gave her a wry half-smile. ‘My father made it very clear when I first announced I was going to study medicine that he would have preferred me to take up the reins of his business. And my mother complained for years about the long hours I work. But I have always wanted to be a surgeon for as long as I can remember.’

      Claire picked up her soda water again. ‘How is your mother coping after your father’s death?’ she asked.

      A shadow passed through his gaze as it met hers. ‘She is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances,’ he said.

      Claire was even more certain now that his father’s death had everything to do with Antonio contacting her about this trial reconciliation. There would be certain expectations of him as the firstborn son of a wealthy businessman. An heir would be required. But he could hardly provide one whilst still legally married to his estranged wife.

      A divorce between them had the potential to be messy, and no doubt very public. In their haste to marry close to six years ago, when Claire had announced her pregnancy, there had been no time for drawing up a prenuptial agreement. Antonio could not be unaware of how the family laws in Australia worked. She would be entitled to a considerable share of his wealth, including that which he had just inherited upon the death of his father, even though they had been living apart for so long.

      She toyed with the edge of the tablecloth, struggling to keep her expression shuttered in case he saw how confused she was. It would be different if she still loved him. She would take him back without hesitation. But her love for him had died the day she had seen him in Daniela Garza’s arms.

      Or had it?

      Claire looked at his face, her heart giving an uncoordinated skip as her gaze came into contact with his coal-black eyes. She had been aware of a disturbing undercurrent the whole time they had been together this evening. Every time her eyes met his she felt the zap of attraction—unwilling, almost resentful, but no less unmistakable, and it definitely wasn’t one-way. Her body recognised him as her pleasure-giver. She had not known such pleasure before or since, and while she imagined in her most tortured moments he had experienced physical ecstasy with many other women, she was more than aware of his ongoing desire for her. She could see it in his eyes, in the way they locked on hers for a second or two longer than necessary. She had felt it in the way his fingers had wrapped around hers in that possessive way of his, their warmth seeping into the coldness of hers. She could only imagine what would happen if he should kiss her at some point. Her lips could almost sense the gentle but firm pressure of his, and her tongue snaked out to try and remove the sensation. She didn’t want to remind herself of all she had felt in his arms. She had locked away those memories. They were too painful to recollect.

      They were far too dangerous to revisit.

      ‘Have you finished playing with your meal?’ Antonio asked.

      Claire put down the fork she had been using to move around the seafood risotto she had been vainly trying to push past her lips. ‘I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was,’ she said, her shoulders going down on a sigh.

      He took out his wallet and, signalling the waiter, placed his credit card on the table in anticipation of the bill. ‘I will give you a night of reprieve, Claire,’ he said. ‘Go home and get a good night’s sleep. If you give me a spare key to your flat I will send someone over tomorrow to shift your things to my suite at the hotel. Do not worry about your lease or the rent for the next three months. I will see to that. All you need concern yourself with is stepping back into your role as my wife.’

      He made it sound so simple, Claire thought as she drove back to her flat a short time later. All she had to do was pack a bag or two and slip back into his life as if she had never been away.

      Even more worrying—how many nights СКАЧАТЬ