Kate Hardy

Latin Lovers: Italian Playboys


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the tiny eyelids fluttered closed.

      Nina couldn’t help admiring his technique. God knew she’d been up for hours trying to get the baby to settle to no avail. A part of her felt resentful that he’d achieved it instead of her. Another part of her secretly admired him.

      ‘Go and get ready.’ Marc spoke to her in a lowered voice so as not to disturb the child. ‘We have a few minutes up our sleeves but the traffic at this time of day is always an unknown variable.’

      Nina made her way to her room and softly closed the door behind her. She peered into the contents of her wardrobe with dismay. Most of her clothes were either too conservative or out of date. Her work as a librarian didn’t require any degree of fashionable attire, and as she’d so often had to bail her sister out of debt she hadn’t bought anything new for herself in ages. She had jeans in abundance, mostly cast-offs from Nadia, and a collection of tops, also from Nadia, most of which showed far more than they concealed.

      In the end she chose one of Nadia’s cast-offs. She was supposed to be her sister so she figured she might as well dress like her, even though she cringed at the thought of showing off so much of her body, especially to someone so discerning of female flesh as Marc Marcello.

      Everything about him unsettled her. It wasn’t just the fact that he thought her to be her sister, although that in itself was a major stumbling block, especially to her peace of mind, but his whole manner seemed threatening in an overtly male sort of way. Although she was aware that deep down he was acting out of similar motives to her own, she couldn’t help feeling on edge around him. She knew some of it probably came from her lack of experience with men; she just didn’t know how to manage a man who was so strong, so in control and so determined.

      Marc Marcello wasn’t exactly the type of man one could ignore. He was the sort of man who was used to being obeyed—insisted on it, in fact.

      She sighed a little shakily as she straightened the close-fitting dress. She wished pretending to be her sister was as easy as putting on her twin’s clothes: that way she wouldn’t feel so nervous all the time in case he saw through her act. She snatched up a cashmere cardigan, slung it casually around her shoulders and made her way out to where Marc was waiting.

      He was standing with the baby in his arms, the usually hard lines of his face soft as he gazed down at her sleeping form.

      Nina drew in a painful breath at the sight before her. He clearly adored his brother’s child and would do anything to protect her, even going so far as to marry a woman he loathed.

      Marc turned to look at her and his expression instantly hardened. ‘Are you ready?’

      She nodded and, scooping up Georgia’s changing bag, followed him out of the flat.

      The trip to Marc’s office was a silent one and Nina was immensely grateful for it. Georgia had finally accepted a bottle and fallen asleep not long after she’d been placed in the baby seat in the back of Marc’s showroom-perfect car. Marc himself was concentrating on the thick morning traffic in front of him, his dark unreadable eyes looking straight ahead, his gaze never once veering her way.

      Nina inspected her chewed nails for a moment as she considered what lay ahead. What had he told the lawyer about their sudden marriage? Was she supposed to pretend things were normal between them just like any other couple, or had Marc informed his lawyer of the particulars, Georgia of course being the primary one?

      She curled her fingers into her palms and drew in a ragged breath.

      Five words, she reminded herself. Five words and it could all end right here and now.

      Sure, he’d have the power to remove Georgia from her custody, but maybe she’d be able to convince him to let her see her occasionally. Aunts had some sort of rights, didn’t they? Not only that, she was also Georgia’s godmother, although she’d never really understood why Nadia had bothered with the formality since the last time she had been in church was probably when she had been christened herself.

      She sent him a covert glance but his head was turned towards the parking turnstile beneath the office tower he’d turned into, his hand reaching out of the driver’s window to swipe his entry card.

      The car surged forward as the boom rose and Nina turned back to face the front, not sure she wanted him to see the indecision and guilt written all over her face.

      Once they were parked she got out of the car and began fitting the baby carrying pouch to her chest, her fingers almost shaking as she tried to fasten the buckle.

      Marc handed Georgia to her, helpfully feeding the infant’s legs through the appropriate holes. Nina felt the brush of his hand on her left breast and reared backwards as if he’d touched her with a heated brand.

      His eyes met hers, the dark depths of his black gaze glittering with dislike.

      ‘I would advise against any overt displays of distaste for my touch whilst we are in the presence of my lawyer,’ he said. ‘He believes this to be a normal marriage and I would prefer him to continue to do so in spite of what we both know privately to be true.’

      Nina’s eyes flashed as she adjusted the baby-carrier straps over her shoulders. ‘It’s not exactly normal to force someone to marry you.’

      He activated the central locking and alarm system on his car before responding. ‘You will be more than adequately compensated for your efforts.’

      ‘Isn’t the fact that I’m coming here to sign a pre-nuptial agreement going to make him suspicious?’ she asked.

      ‘Pre-nuptial agreements are commonplace these days. Besides, I have shareholders and investors I need to protect, not to mention my father, who started the business from scratch. I will not stand by and watch a money-hungry little whore take half of all we have both worked so hard for if the marriage were to end.’

      Although Nina knew everything he said was reasonable under the circumstances, she still felt hurt by his assessment of her motives. She wished he could see through her thin guise to the person she really was, not an opportunistic money-grabbing bed-hopping pleasure seeker, but a young woman who cared deeply for her tiny niece, so deeply, in fact, that she was prepared to marry a complete stranger.

      She closed her mouth on her response and followed him into the lift he’d summoned. She stared fixedly at the numbers on the panel rather than look at him, but she was acutely aware of him standing beside her, his broad shoulder not quite touching hers, although she could feel the warmth of his body all the same.

      The lift felt too small. Her chest felt too tight. Her legs felt like wet wool instead of toned muscle and bone. Her mind was a mess of disordered thoughts—thoughts of escape, thoughts of telling the truth, thoughts of what would happen if she went along with the lies she’d told, spending the rest of her life waiting for the axe to fall when the truth finally came out, as she knew it most certainly would.

      So far she’d been lucky. He hadn’t asked for Georgia’s birth certificate, but it wouldn’t be long before he did, particularly if he intended to formally adopt her. She knew he intended for his father to see his only grandchild, which would mean a trip to Italy. Would it even be legal for her to take Georgia out of the country? What if somebody asked to see the birth certificate and found out she wasn’t in fact Georgia’s mother? What then?

      Suddenly conscious of Marc’s probing gaze, she quickly covered her inner disquiet by plastering a vacant smile on her face. ‘What are you smirking at?’ Marc looked down at her derisively. ‘How quickly you are going to work your way through your allowance?’

      ‘That depends on how generous it is,’ she tossed back.

      Marc rolled his eyes and stabbed at the lift button once more as if to hurry its pace.

      ‘We are not married yet so I would advise against counting your pennies until they have been dispatched,’ he growled.

      The lift doors sprang open and Nina followed the rigid line of his back as he made his way to his suite of offices.

      It