Too Cold To Love (14 page)

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Authors: Doris O'Connor

BOOK: Too Cold To Love
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But he promised himself to spoil her, and now
that they were in
Italy
,
he wanted to show her all the delights his home country had to offer. They had
been proper tourists for the last few days, exploring
Milan
on foot, and Elise had soaked the
culture up, her huge eyes bubbling with excitement breaking through his wary
cynicism.

It had been huge fun, in fact, seeing everything
through her eyes. When she had looked up at
La Scala
with a small sigh
yesterday, murmuring almost to herself that she had never been to the opera,
well, what else was a man to do? He was fast getting addicted to her almost
childlike enthusiasm.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed
as much, and as he joined her in the lift, her hand in his, he realized with a
start that he was happy, truly happy. Even at Mimi's birth he hadn't been this
carefree. As elated as he'd been to be a father, there had been the niggling
doubt that the adorable baby girl he was holding might not be his. They were
such grim days until the paternity test had proven that she was indeed his.
He'd sworn to himself to be the best father and husband he could be, only to
have Jennifer throw it all back in his face a few weeks later.

He felt the tug on his hand, followed by Elise's
kiss, which turned into a raspberry against his lips.

"Oi, the least you could do is pretend to
be listening to my riveting conversation, Marco Giovanni." Mischief warred
with just a hint of worry in her tawny eyes, and he forced a smile on his lips.

 
"Well,
cara mia
, when you have
something interesting to say I will make sure to be listening."
 
That earned him a swift, playful kick to the
shin from Elise, and a chuckle from the lift attendant, as they reached the
ground floor. Arm in arm they crossed the lobby and walked the short distance
to the famous opera house.

****

Elise let the powerful music wash over her,
dimly aware of Marco's intense gaze on her back. She didn't understand a word,
of course, but the music wrought its own magic. Tristan and Isolde was such a
tragic love story, she'd been in tears at the interval. Marco calmly produced a
handkerchief, wiped her tears away, and then kissed her senseless, like he had
a habit of doing lately.

His low suggestion in her ear that they could be
staying behind in the box for some fun of their own behind the curtain did
little to help her regain her wayward emotions. She never knew whether he was
joking when he suggested these things, and she knew her cheeks had been flaming
when they made their way to refreshments. After all, there had been some
interesting interludes on the leisurely drive down from
Reims
.
One romantic picnic in particular Elise would remember for a long time yet, as
would the elderly couple who had happened to stumble upon them. A fresh wave of
heat worked its way into her cheeks. She'd never been so embarrassed or
frustrated in her life, even though the couple hadn't actually seen anything,
thanks to her long dress and Marco shielding her with his body. Still....

Marco had been all concern at the scratches left
by the tree bark on her sensitive skin, and once they were safely up in their
room at the charming B&B, en route to
Milan
,
he had run her a bath in the cast iron period bath tub. His large hands
caressing those scratches made her forget all about them, and she pulled him
into the tub, clothes and all, to finish what they had started earlier that
day.

In fact she had a hard time keeping her hands
off him at all. Back at the interval, he had parked her in a corner, flashed
his wicked smile at her, and joined the throng for refreshments. Elise had a
perfect view of his broad shoulders in the impeccably tailored Italian suit.
She had blushed some more at her own wayward thoughts as her gaze wondered down
his length, over the strong thighs, their outline just visible through the
fabric of his trousers and back up to the black hair, starting to curl over his
collar again. The look he threw her over his shoulder made her blush deepen.
Way
to go girl, caught ogling your own husband again.

It wasn't just the mind-blowing sex either.
Elise had nothing to compare him to, a few kisses and embarrassing fumbles
pre-Marco notwithstanding, but she was pretty sure that her instant reaction to
him was not the norm. Ever since
Reims
, he'd
made a real effort to get to know her, and Elise was astonished at how much
they actually had in common. Conversation was easy, and even their silences
were comfortable. They'd agreed to not discuss the events in
Reims
.

"It's nothing,
pasticcino
.
It's sorted, and I would rather talk about you."

And by an unspoken agreement they'd also not
mentioned the subject of kids, her sister, or their return to
England
and the
impending custody battle over Mimi.

They had talked about everything else though,
childhood dreams, favorite books, films, Mamma G, and the impossible nightwear
she had packed for Elise. Actually they didn't really talk about that too much,
nor had she been in any of the outfits for any length of time.

Marco's hot breath on her neck, as he leaned
into her now, made Elise gasp. Dancing butterflies invaded her stomach, and she
leant back into him, her heart rate going into instant overdrive at the
feather-light kisses going down her bare back.

"Having fun,
cara mia
?"

Elise turned in her seat to throw him what she
hoped was a scathing look. She knew it failed miserably when the full heat of
his gaze hit her, and he groaned, "I want to fuck you so bad right
now."

****

Elise sighed in awe at the scenery around her.
They had reached Grosetto and the Giovanni family vineyard, the last leg of
their honeymoon.
Tuscany
was beautiful beyond anything she ever imagined. They drove up to the main
house through endless rows and rows of vine. The late afternoon sun bathed
everything in a warm glow, and Elise felt as though she was part of some fairy
tale.

In large that was entirely due to Marco's
attentiveness. Gone was the arrogant man, and in his stead was a laughing,
teasing, incredibly sexy version, who made Elise feel as though she was the
only woman in the world that mattered. If he occasionally brooded quietly as
though he was miles away, she could forgive him that. She had her own secrets
after all, but she would not think about that now. They had three days left,
before reality would no doubt come crashing round their ears again.

The thought made her sigh, and she felt Marco's
warm hand on hers, as he glanced at her.

"Penny for them,
cara mia
."

"Oh nothing.I was just wondering what your
cousin is like."

To her surprise he stopped the car and motioned
for her to get out. Elise joined him looking out at the slightly rolling hills,
criss-crossed with Giovanni vine as far as the eye could see and wondered what
the scowl on Marcos's face meant.

He pulled her into his hard frame, and they
stood for a long time, drinking in the scenery, Elise quietly content to just
be held.
Oh you are turning into such a sap, girl; you really are.

****

Marco watched the rolling hillside with mixed
feelings. Bringing Elise here had seemed such a good idea. He could kill two
birds with one stone and get the last bit of business finished with Giorgio.

Now, the thought of having Elise in the same
room as his womanizing cousin sent a wave of cold dread down his spine, and he
tightened his hold on her involuntarily. She stirred in his arms, and he
loosened his hold. He nuzzled into her neck, and smiled at her barely
controlled shiver. He loved her responsiveness, and not once had he seen her as
much as glance towards another man. But, this was Giorgio, playboy
extraordinaire, who women couldn't help but flock to. Most men, too, found
themselves under his spell, should he choose to weave it, one reason why the
Giovanni vineyard was fast becoming a force to be reckoned with.

But behind the easy smile and the playboy
attitude Giorgio was a shark, with finely honed instincts both in business and
in his private life, not to mention some dangerous connections. They had been
at loggerheads ever since Marco had decided to sell his pastries to the
Beauchamp vineyard.

"You should be keeping them in the family,
not selling them to my competition, Marco."
 
It was a frequently heard bone of contention
between the cousins.

Marco was going to settle it once and for all.
His conscience stirred, thinking of his original plan to shamelessly use the
distraction of Elise to get his cousin off his case. Now, the mere thought of
Giorgio as much as looking at Elise had him want to castrate the man.

"What's wrong, Marco?"

Elise turned herself around in his arms and
linking her hands behind his back smiled up at him trustingly. Another thing he
loved about her. Damn it all to hell, he didn't even believe in love, but the
affection shining in those brown eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. In the
short time he'd known her, Elise had made him re-evaluate everything he'd ever
believed in. How did she do that? He couldn't afford to go soft now, damn it.

Her teeth worried her bottom lip in that
self-conscious way she had when she was unsure of something, and he kissed her
nose in an effort to reassure her.

"I'm just wondering how to get that good
for nothing cousin of mine to keep his hands off you,
cara mia
."

Elise laughed, wrinkling her cute, little nose
at him. "Aren't you rather assuming here that I would let him anywhere
near me to get his hands on me? That happened once, and I learnt my lesson,
Marco. Besides," and she took his hand, kissing the fading bruises,
"I don't think you'd be much good to me with a broken hand, now would
you?"

She threw him a sassy look and ran one hand
under his t-shirt. Her fingernails scraped along the ridges of his abs, and he
sucked his breath in at the contact. Her hand slipped lower, until she cupped
his surging cock. Fuck it, if she kept that up, he would have to drag her
behind the nearest vine.

"
O-or
," her seductive voice
wrapped itself around his senses until his dick pressed painfully against the
zipper of his jeans, "are you telling me that this Giorgio is
irresistible."

"He certainly seems to think he is."

Hell, is that rough voice really yours? Get a
bloody grip, man; she'll think you're a right sap.

Elise's voice was an angry whisper when she
shoved him unexpectedly.

"I told you, I am
not
her! He may be
God's gift to women, but I am
your
wife, and I would never, ever do that
to you. Surely even she wouldn't have had a fling with your cousin? "

Marco bit back a curse.

"
Cara mia
, if I had a penny for any
no good for nothing excuse of a male who had a bit of my ex-wife – you get the
picture I'm sure."

Elise's anger evaporated in front of his eyes as
she shook her head at him.

"If he could sink so low, why in God's name
are we here? I swear if he as much as looks as me funny, I will not be held
responsible for my actions. In fact, can I just slap him?"

Something shifted inside Marco at the quiet
steel behind her soft words, and an invisible weight lifted off his shoulders.

"I'm afraid you can't,
pasticcino
,
but you may want to hit me in a minute when I tell you why."

"Okay, spill, why?"

"I have some business to discuss with him
that really can't wait. I'm sorry, I know I said no more business, but whilst
we're here—"

"In that case you'll owe me big time, Marco
Giovanni. Can I at least give him a piece of my mind, once you've sorted it all
out?"

Marco drew her back into his embrace. She was so
goddamn beautiful when she got this sassy. But before he could say anything
else, the high pitched wail of a car engine being gunned to the extremes of its
capacity, followed by the loud screech of tires, made him swing around with a
groan.

Giorgio Giovanni unfolded his long frame out of
the low slung sports car, ran one hand through his scraggly black hair and with
the grace of a panther flashed his smile towards Elise. She stiffened in
Marco's arms.

Marco ground his teeth in frustration at the all
too obvious male interest in his cousin's slate grey eyes. Elise whispered in
his ear.

"Relax; you can't kill him.He's
family."

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

Elise sighed to herself hearing the raised
voices through the closed door. The cousins were at it again. Marco and Giorgio
did not seem to be able to be in the same room for five minutes without
arguing. At least they seemed to have reached an agreement concerning Marco's
expansion plan. His chain of bakeries was to be converted into a bistro style
coffee shop/winery chain with both Giovanni and Beauchamp finest on offer.
Giorgio was still in negotiations with some smaller vineyards, and he was going
to use his influence to secure their backing.

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