The Italian's Marriage Bargain (Hot Italian Nights Book 7) Page 5

  He’d never seen Gina in tears. Never seen such terrible pain on her face.

  That fact slammed into him like a race car under a chequered flag.

  It made him physically ill, remembering.

  Because he’d kissed her?

  Because she couldn’t bear his touch?

  Fire licked his skin even as his bones turned to ice. The notion was unbearable.

  But then he recalled the avid way she’d clung to him. That kiss hadn’t been just about him. Gina had made demands of her own.

  Then why was she so upset?

  Because that kiss made her unfaithful to her lover, De Laurentis?

  Massimo’s stride faltered and he came to an abrupt halt in front of the marble fireplace. He grabbed the carved mantelpiece with one hand, sucking in oxygen till the stars circling his vision vanished.

  When the security buzzer sounded he thought at first it was the dull throb of pain in his skull. Till it sounded again. Instantly he was across the room, striding into the entry hall and pressing the control panel. Maybe it was Gina. Maybe she’d forgotten her key.

  ‘Hello, Gina?’ Massimo didn’t know the woman’s voice. All he knew in that first instant was the crash of disappointment that it wasn’t her.

  He closed his eyes and breathed deep, marshalling his control. He wasn’t a weak man. He didn’t let emotion master him, ever. But in this moment Massimo felt pinioned by despair so sharp it pierced his lungs, winding him.

  ‘Hello? Gina?’ The woman’s voice came again.

  Massimo pressed the button to allow her entry then waited for her to come upstairs, curious to see his wife’s visitor. He opened the door as she raised her hand to knock.

  ‘Oh. Sorry.’ She looked flushed and surprised, her blonde hair bright against her dark winter coat. Then recognition hit. Of course he’d seen her before. Angela De Laurentis. Screenwriter and wife of Matteo De Laurentis, Gina’s co-star. The man the world believed she’d been having an affair with.

  ‘Signora De Laurentis.’ Massimo inclined his head and stood aside with a gesture of invitation. ‘Please come in.’

  Curiosity and excitement outstripped every other emotion. With luck now he’d get to the bottom of Gina’s relationship with her co-star.

  The woman smiled. ‘You’re Massimo Conti, aren’t you? I’m so pleased to meet you.’

  She crossed the threshold and followed his gesture towards the main salon. That’s when he noticed the bulky package she carried.

  ‘Please, call me Massimo.’ He gestured to the package. ‘May I?’

  The woman paused when she saw the sitting room was empty. ‘This is for Gina. I haven’t missed her, have I?’

  So his absent wife had arranged to meet this woman at a time when she thought Massimo would be working.

  ‘She had to go out but I’m expecting her any time.’ He’d make sure he stayed till she arrived. ‘Please, won’t you take a seat?’

  Angela nodded and headed for a long lounge.

  ‘Can I take your parcel?’ He was intrigued by the fact the two women, who according to the popular press, were rivals for the same man, were on friendly terms. And by the parcel Angela carried so carefully.

  She shook her head, placing it gently on the seat beside her. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to give it to her myself.’

  Intrigued, he nodded. ‘Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Or,’ he recalled that she was half Australian, ‘tea?’

  ‘No, thank you, I...’ She paused and shrugged. ‘Perhaps some water?’

  ‘Of course.’ Massimo smiled and watched her relax back against the sofa. ‘I’ll just be a moment.’

  A few minutes later she took the glass he proffered and gave a tentative smile as he sat opposite her. ‘I really am glad to meet you.’

  Massimo tilted his head in silent encouragement. ‘I feel the same. I’m fascinated by the film project Gina’s been working on.’ Especially her relationship with this woman’s husband. ‘I hear the screenplay is fantastic.’

  The blonde blushed. ‘It seems to have worked well.’ She paused and looked him directly in the eye. ‘You and Gina must be very...close. In Venice she didn’t mention having someone special...’

  ‘Yet here we are, together.’ Massimo stuck on a smile that hid his chagrin at the fact he’d had to threaten his spouse into sharing his apartment. And a pang of something like hurt that he wasn’t significant in her life anymore.

  He intended to change that.

  ‘I’m glad.’ Another pause then Angela continued in a rush. ‘Gina deserves some happiness. I’m so pleased she’s finding it now, with you.’

  ‘You like her very much, don’t you?’ Massimo was intrigued. Many women would feel intimidated by Gina’s vivacious beauty and talent, yet he sensed Angela was a genuine friend.

  ‘Absolutely. You’re very lucky to have her. I hope you know that.’

  Massimo read the warning in her expression. Was she threatening him? The idea intrigued.

  ‘I do.’ Even though the relationship, such as it was, wasn’t at all as Angela thought. Even though it frustrated the hell out of him right now.

  ‘She helped me through a very rocky time.’ Angela spread her hands. ‘Then all the world thought she was having an affair with my husband, which was nonsense, as you know.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, the muck they can rake on the basis of a misinterpreted photo! Gina helped me dampen the awful rumours. She even spent time with our friend, Niccolo Marchesi, pretending they were a couple, just to get the paparazzi away.’

  Massimo found himself leaning back in his seat, his heart hammering as relief filtered through him, easing tense muscles one at a time.

  Here was the confirmation he’d needed. The thought of Gina with De Laurentis had driven him crazy with jealousy. Then he’d seen pictures of her out with Italy’s playboy race driver and it had been the last straw. He’d almost scotched his plan to force Gina here to Milan. Except he’d known that he couldn’t simply walk away from her. Seven years of separation had proved that.

  ‘So it was all a lie?’

  ‘Of course.’ Angela raised her eyebrows. ‘Gina’s a good friend. One of the kindest, wisest women I know. She understands what it is to be alone and unsure of yourself.’ Another pause, as if she selected her words carefully. ‘She doesn’t talk about her past much but I know she’s been badly hurt. Let down by someone she trusted. A man.’ Angela shot him a meaningful glance that definitely held a warning. ‘She’s still...bruised from that and I’d hate to see her hurt again.’

  Massimo stared back, thoughts and emotions tumbling over each other so fast he felt winded.

  Gina alone and unsure of herself.

  She had such a vibrant personality he’d never thought of her in those terms. She always seemed so confident. On the other hand he knew she was an only child whose mother lived on the other side of the world, married now to an American and totally absorbed in her new life.

  Seven years ago Massimo had felt alone, burdened by family demands he’d felt wary of sharing with his new bride. His father’s illness, the shocking revelation that the family company teetered on the brink of failure and the shameful reason for it. Plus the sheer neediness of his mother who’d broken under the pressure.

  Gina had seemed so independent, so together, he’d forgotten she’d had no-one but him.

  An unseen blade carved a slice through his conscience. Had he been so wrapped up in his family’s problems, so ready to take things at face value because of his pride, that he’d missed what should have been obvious?

  Gina hurt.

  Gina let down by someone significant in her life.

  The cynical, disillusioned self he’d listened to for years said it must have been some other lover who’d broken her heart.

  But another part of him felt, with a certainty so strong it was like a thunderclap on a cloudless, sunny day, that the hurt Gina nursed dated from their marriage. From him.

  Could it be?
>
  He was torn between wanting it to be true and hating the idea.

  Gina didn’t seem wounded. But then nor did he, to the outside eye.

  What about the defiant way she’d challenged him to think the worst, not deigning to explain her relationship with De Laurentis? Or the fiery emotion he’d read in her eyes even when she stared up at him with that chilly look of disdain? Was that because he meant nothing to her anymore, or because she kept secrets like he did?

  His hands dug into the soft leather of his chair.

  ‘Massimo?’

  He blinked and refocused on the blonde woman before him, realising he’d been so lost in thought that he’d forgotten her. He opened his mouth to say something when they heard the sound of the front door opening.

  Massimo was on his feet in a second, turned towards the entry foyer and the woman stepping inside, already shedding her long coat.

  She hadn’t seen him and he had a moment’s leisure to observe the grace of her movements, the lovely curve of her calves beneath the straight black skirt and the even more delicious curve of her breasts against the turquoise of her silk shirt as she turned to hang up her coat.

  His response was like a winter avalanche, catapulting through his body, battering down defences he’d spent seven years erecting.

  He wanted this woman.

  No, he needed her.

  Last night’s kiss had shattered any final pretence that he didn’t. Desperation clawed at him. He had to close the distance between them, to make her his. Especially since that kiss had proved she wasn’t immune. He’d told himself it would be enough, to begin with, to rekindle the physical passion between them. Yet even as he’d said it, he’d known he wanted far more.

  Now, after listening to Angela, Massimo felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps Gina felt more than just the physical hunger which had always been so flammable between them.

  Maybe her heart wasn’t as closed as she pretended.

  Which meant he had to work out a way to get through to her. To break the ice crystals that had formed around her heart. To make things right again.

  ‘Gina.’ His voice sounded curiously husky, sharp on the last syllable, making her freeze where she stood, arm outstretched to the coat rack. Massimo modulated his tone to a smoother note. ‘You’re just in time. I’ve been having a delightful chat with your friend, Angela. But I know it’s you she wants to see.’

  There. Just for a second something slipped across his wife’s frozen features. Fear?

  But she’d only be afraid if she thought Angela might reveal something she didn’t want Massimo to know.

  Satisfaction curled deep inside.

  So it was true.

  Gina guarded secrets close to her heart. Past hurts. And maybe hopes too?

  The idea that Gina might feel even a little of what he did buoyed Massimo. It seemed he’d trudged through a lifetime of darkness and here was light ahead. He grinned and watched Gina’s eyes widen as if dazed.

  ‘I’ll leave you two ladies alone, shall I? I’m sure you have a lot to discuss.’ He walked over to Angela, took her hand and kissed it. ‘It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, Angela. I look forward to doing so again.’

  The blonde smiled up at him. ‘So do I, Massimo.’

  He turned, approaching Gina who stood now beside another long lounge. She stiffened as he drew near. He could almost feel the tension twanging through her taut frame.

  ‘Until later, tesoro.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  Gina closed the door behind her friend and repressed a shiver.

  Until later.

  Massimo’s words, in that deep voice with the velvety undertone, held a promise she couldn’t ignore.

  Did he mean to finish what he’d begun last night?

  Her skin flushed with heat then cold as she recalled her unbridled responses. Massimo had awoken the girl she’d been seven years before, the gullible innocent who’d given her all to the handsome, charming man who’d introduced her to pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings. Who’d made her believe in happiness.

  The whole time she’d sat, chatting with Angela, Gina had been aware of the jittery tingle of anticipation down her spine and the searing liquid heat between her thighs. One heavy-lidded look from Massimo’s glittering eyes, one casual promise in that rumbling low voice and she was turned on.

  Despite knowing he was no good for her.

  Despite her determination not to respond.

  Last night she’d barely even tried to resist Massimo’s practised seduction.

  Pain cramped her belly. How many women had there been since they separated? Massimo could seduce the birds from the trees and sane women into madness. Look at her, believing love could conquer all when her own childhood was proof that lust, not love, ruled and that men couldn’t be trusted to stay the course.

  No, that wasn’t true. Matteo and Angela had had their problems but it was obvious they loved each other deeply. They shared more than physical desire. Love did exist.

  That was Gina’s problem. She’d truly loved while to Massimo she’d been a passing attraction. A novelty.

  ‘I like your friend.’ Massimo’s voice was warm, rippling like a balmy wave across sensitive nerves.

  Gina’s shoulders hitched up, the skin of her nape drawing tight and prickly. Slowly she turned to find Massimo on the other side of the sitting room. He’d shed his jacket and tie and undone the top few buttons of his shirt, giving her a tantalising glimpse of bronzed flesh.

  She bit her bottom lip to stop a breathless gasp of excitement. But she couldn’t stop that melting sensation pooling between her legs. Because he looked better than ever. Because she’d spent all night imagining what would have happened if she hadn’t retreated to her room.

  Because, despite the ruthless way he’d manipulated her, Massimo Conti still had the power to seduce her to the edge of insanity. The compulsion to close the distance between them and beg him to seduce her was almost overwhelming. Though it would be easier simply to seduce him. He’d always been breath-takingly ready for sex.

  ‘What do you want, Massimo?’ She crossed her arms, furious with her wayward self. ‘Shouldn’t you be working? With the runway show coming up I thought you’d be busy.’

  He shrugged and she wished he hadn’t. In his shirt sleeves, with the cuffs rolled up to reveal sinewy forearms, the movement accentuated his powerful frame beneath the fine tailoring. Massimo was tall and lean rather than chunky and gym-pumped, but he was all hard-packed muscle.

  Dismayed, Gina registered another ripple of response low inside.

  ‘You’re right. I need to go again soon.’ Yet he made no move to leave. His stillness, and the predatory watchfulness of that bright gaze, unnerved her.

  As did the way she wanted to run her hands over that powerful body and let the carnal appetites she’d squashed for so long have their head. Seven years was a long time, yet not one man had tempted her. Until her husband stormed back into her life.

  She gritted her jaw. She refused to think about it, despite the fact her body was a riot of sparking awareness.

  ‘Well, don’t let me delay you.’ Unwillingly she moved back into the room, heading for the parcel Angela had delivered. The dress made for Gina by Angela’s designer sister, currently visiting from Australia.

  Gina had admired the stunning outfits Sonia had made for Angela and begged her help. If she had to spend a week pretending to be her ex’s partner, she’d do it in style. Her own style, not something vetted and approved by condescending eyes in the House of Conti.

  ‘Do I make you nervous?’

  Strange. Gina could almost believe that was regret in his tone.

  ‘Of course not.’ She’d die before she revealed that. She didn’t trust his power over her because she didn’t trust herself, especially after last night.

  ‘Then why won’t you look at me?’

  Gina stilled, clutching the bulky package in both arms. Slowly she swung arou
nd to meet his laser stare. She felt it like ice burning her chilled flesh. But far worse was the memory of his supple, clever hands on that same flesh, evoking heat and ecstasy.

  ‘We’re not in public now, Massimo.’ She swallowed, hating the way her throat closed convulsively on the once-familiar name. Hating how just saying it conjured memories of her whispering his name in the dead of night, hoarse with pleasure. Or laughing so hard at some shared joke that she could barely form the syllables. In those days they’d shared so much. ‘We don’t have to pretend for an audience.’

  He took a step nearer and lifted his hands, palm up. ‘Does it all have to be for an audience?’

  What game was this? ‘I don’t want to be here. You know that. I came because you forced my hand. Don’t expect me to pretend to enjoy your company when we’re not playing your precious masquerade.’ Ostentatiously she glanced at her watch. ‘I don’t have to perform that particular role again for a while.’

  He didn’t flinch or frown but his mouth tightened. Was he annoyed? Good!

  Gina spun away, heading towards her bedroom.

  ‘Gina. Please.’

  Her footsteps stuttered to a stop, her heart beating high and hard against her breastbone.

  Please?

  It wasn’t just the word. It was the way Massimo said it, as if it was wrung from his very soul.

  She shut her eyes, telling herself not to be sucked in by lies. Or by her own yearning. He wanted something more from her, that’s all. Something he’d forgotten to specify when he’d proposed this devil’s deal. Maybe he wanted her to suck up to someone important at their next party.

  ‘Gina?’

  She drew a deep breath and opened her eyes, taking a second to compose her features before turning towards him.

  ‘What is it?’

  He gave nothing away, except for the slight hollow in one cheek as he clenched his jaw.

  ‘There’s something I want to talk with you about. Why don’t you take a seat?’

  Gina was shaking her head before he finished speaking. ‘No. Whatever you have to say, just say it. I’ve got things to do.’