dark gaze inscrutable.
She swallowed and turned back to the celebrant, who was smiling at them with indulgent approval.
For better or worse she was now married to Marc Marcello.
The reception was little more than a brief lunch with some of Marc’s colleagues at a private function centre and as soon as it was over Nina changed into one of her sister’s outfits, a silky sheath of a dress which clung to her rather too lovingly. She stood in front of the mirror in the powder room and tried to adjust the fabric so it didn’t reveal too much of her cleavage, all the while doing her best to ignore the nervous flicker of unease in her eyes.
She ran her tongue over her lips experimentally. Her mouth looked the same but it somehow felt different. Her lips felt highly sensitive now, as if the brush of Marc’s mouth on hers had triggered something under her skin, making her want more of his touch. Recalling the way his kiss had felt, his warm sensual mouth and the looming threat of his tongue about to slip between her lips, still made her stomach tilt alarmingly. Even now she could imagine how it would feel to have the rough maleness of his tongue searching for hers to mate with, arrogantly, demandingly—devastatingly.
She remonstrated with herself for craving something she could never have. What was wrong with her? What quirk in her personality made her ache for his desire, his approval, for a smile of affection or even a kind word?
She had no right to desire such things, certainly since it had been her own deception that had brought about their marriage. What would he do if he ever found out?
Once she made her way back out to the last of the lingering guests Nina found herself being escorted to where Marc’s car was waiting, Georgia already settled in her baby seat in the back.
He drove to his house in Mosman, seemingly content not to engage in conversation during any part of the journey.
Nina used the time to get her head around the fact she was now his wife. His legal wife, she reminded herself with another deep lurch of her stomach. In name only, though. The mental reassurance restored some order to her insides, but then she thought about his kiss and her belly did another somersault.
‘I have given Lucia the rest of the day off,’ Marc said as he pulled into his driveway. ‘There is a meal already prepared for later.’
Nina had never felt less like eating in her life. The thought of being alone with him in the big house with only her tiny niece as chaperon unsettled her terribly.
‘I think Georgia needs feeding and changing,’ she said once they were at the front door.
Marc held the door open and she slipped past him, holding Georgia like a shield.
‘I have a couple of calls to make,’ he said. ‘Let me know if you need a hand with anything. I will be in my study.’
She was halfway through feeding her niece a little while later when Marc came into the kitchen. She looked up to see he had changed out of his suit and was now dressed in casual trousers and a long-sleeved dark T-shirt which hugged his broad chest, highlighting his superb physical fitness.
Nina tore her eyes away to concentrate on Georgia.
‘Would you like me to take over so you can change before dinner?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m almost done,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t seem all that interested in this anyway.’ She put the spoon down and got to her feet, reaching for a cloth to wipe up a spill.
‘She looks tired,’ Marc observed as Georgia began to rub at her eyes.
‘Yes.’ Nina twisted the cloth in her hands, lowering her gaze to avoid his studied look. ‘Nina …’
She turned away and scrubbed at the bench once more. ‘I think I’ll give dinner a miss, if you don’t mind.’ She tossed the cloth in the sink and turned back to reach for Georgia in her baby chair.
Before 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