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Authors: Doris O'Connor

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BOOK: Too Cold To Love
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"Don't ever hit me again, or I will not be
responsible for what happens next."

****

Blood rushed in her ears. Cold sweat trickled
down her spine, and Elise's heart hammered against her breastbone. He looked so
angry. With her handprint clearly visible on his cheek, the frost in his
beautiful eyes made her shiver even as the sensation of being pressed up this
close to him excited her on the most primitive level. He felt it, too, this
connection between them. His breathing picked up; his pupils dilated, and he
swore. His hands fisted in her hair, and his mouth branded her with a searing
kiss. She wasn't sure which one of them groaned as he ground his hips into
hers, their tongues on fire, all-consuming need making them forget where they
were. He yanked the flimsy strap of her sundress away and pinched one erect
nipple. Heat exploded in her core as she moaned into his mouth. Her legs
wrapped themselves around his waist almost of their own accord. He grabbed her
backside and lifted her higher against that smooth column. Using his body to
support her, his hands fumbled with the button of his jeans. He groaned into
her shoulder when she went to help him, and her hand closed around his rock
hard penis, which was making a bid for freedom. Sprung from its nest of thick
black hair, its thick purple head glistened, and Elise's mouth went dry in
anticipation of his cum on her tongue.

The sound of the ship's horn penetrated through
the haze of sexual fever surrounding them both, and Elise froze. What on earth
were they doing? They were in full view of anyone who happened to walk on by,
for pity's sake. And was she really just about to have sex with him again,
without having sorted out anything at all?

She tried to shove him away, but he wouldn't
budge. Just stood there, watching her. His broad chest rose and fell as he struggled
to button himself back inside his tight jeans.

Hah, serves you right. I hope you can't walk
properly.

However his next words floored her completely.

"I can't give you children, Elise, ever.
I'm sorry. I should have told you."

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Elise looked across at Marco's scowling profile
and sighed to herself. Some honeymoon this was turning out to be. After that
astonishing statement back on the ferry, Marco had clammed up like the shell
fish they'd had for lunch and completely refused to talk about it.

"It doesn't matter why, Elise. I can't give
you kids, or more accurately impregnate you, as you put it, so let that be an
end to it."

"But... Mimi..." He had cut her
objections off by kissing her with an almost brutal intensity. His hands had bitten
into her arms, and she had not been able to stop her wince of pain. He had
released her immediately. His trembling muscles screamed his agitation at her,
his whole body as taut as a bow string.
 

 
"Please... Elise... just trust me on
this." His whispered words, coupled with the barely concealed pain in his
eyes, had stopped her from pressing him further.

Since then Marco had seemed lost in his own
brooding thoughts, only to inform her that their destination was
Reims
.

"I have a business meeting, and there is a
private party we have to attend."

He sighed, when she couldn't help but snap at
him.“I thought this was supposed to be our honeymoon?"

"It is,
pasticcino
, but this has
been planned for weeks. If it was just business, I would have simply flown over
and been done with it, but this is important to me, and I need you there."

Elise snorted her disdain. "Just like you
needed me at the dinner with your banker? I haven't anything to wear,
Marco."

He smiled grimly at that.

"Mamma G packed your bag. I'm sure you'll
find something in there that's suitable. If not, there are plenty of shops in
Reims
."

She wanted to strangle him on the spot.
That
wasn't the point, damn it.

"Don't you think it might have been helpful
to let me know this in advance?"

He frowned at her. "Why? You will be fine.
Besides all you have to do is smile and make people believe that I am so head
over heels in love with you, they get careless, and things will go my way.
That's not too much to ask of my wife, is it?"

"Not if you actually asked me, instead of
ordering me, Marco. I
am
your wife. I'm not one of your business
associates or employees with added sex duties. Remember that in future!"

He cocked one eyebrow at that outburst before
ignoring her for the rest of the journey. Elise settled for letting the
beautiful scenery calm her. She did love
France
after all.

By the time the signs for
Reims
appeared, a plan had formed in her mind.

Mamma G has packed my suitcase, had she?
Well, no doubt I'll find something extremely suitable in there. I'll show him.

 
He wanted
eye candy; he would get more than he bargained for. Time to show the arrogant
excuse of a man that she had a mind of her own.

****

What the hell was taking her so long? She had
sent him packing with a flea in his ear, half an hour ago when he dared to
point out to her that they were going to be late. He had to talk to her through
the closed bathroom door. What was it with her and locking herself in
bathrooms?

"I'll be there in a minute. Damn it, Marco,
leave me alone, and go and have a drink. I'll meet you in the bar just as soon
as I'm ready. Besides it's fashionable to be late for parties. You should know
that."

"Fashionable maybe, but not professional,
woman."

She stuck her head out through the door, giving
him a tantalising view of bare shoulders, and her low seductive whisper wrapped
itself like silk around him.

"Unless you want me to go naked ..."

 
Her
knowing gaze travelled down to the immediate bulge in his trousers before she
licked her lips slowly, looked him up and down, and then shut the door in his
face again.

"Go away, Giovanni! You want me to dazzle,
so let me get ready! I'll be out soon."

Fuck it, he had created a monster. It was only
the slight tremble in her voice as she told him to go away that stopped him
from breaking that door down. Instead he was sitting here in this goddamn bar
like some love-sick fool waiting for her to make an appearance.

A commotion at the entrance to the bar made him
look up. The scantily clad blonde was causing quite a stir, every male's eyes
in the room drawn to the vision in clinging silver who sashayed towards him.

He groaned at the poor devil whose job it would
be to keep every male in a ten mile radius from wanting to jump the woman's
bones. His own appreciative smile faded when he realized he was staring at his
own wife.
 
The floor length, strapless
shimmering silk clung to Elise like a second skin, and showed her luscious
curves off to perfection. Her spectacular breasts barely covered, a brooch on
her hips cinched the fabric in, revealing acres of naked flesh. She twirled in
front of him, and God help him, the damn thing was indecently low cut at the
back, only a small strip of fabric across that creamy skin holding her assets
in place.

He swallowed convulsively, as the force of his
arousal kicked him in the gut with such intensity, his dick hardened to the
point of pain.

****

Marco's intense gaze heated Elise's skin from
across the crowded room. This had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but
now, she wasn't so sure.

When she twirled in front of him his face had
been priceless until his expression turned murderous. He'd marched her out of
the hotel and into a waiting taxi, barking their destination at the driver with
a curt, “And keep your eyes on the road!"

"
Dannazioni,
Elise, if we weren't
already late, I'd march you back up to our room and make you change. That isn't
a dress, it's ..."

She'd smiled at him, running one stilettoed foot
up his leg. "It's what, Marco? I'm only following your instructions like a
good little wife. If you don't like the dress, blame Mamma G."

He'd sworn in Italian, and she'd smiled to
herself as he visibly tried to get himself back under control. He'd shaken her
foot off with yet another muttered curse whilst readjusting the bulge in his
trousers.
Oh yeah, two could play this game.

Unfortunately she hadn't counted on the amount
of male attraction she would receive at the party. Everyone acted surprised to
see Marco married. The women mostly threw her dagger looks, and the men made
fools of themselves to talk to her.

One in particular had hounded her all evening
with an unsettling persistence. Unfortunately the host seated him next to her
at the elaborate sit down dinner. His hands constantly wandered over her bare
back, and Elise bit back the smart retort bubbling on her tongue. Marco would
not thank her for making a scene. She inched away from him as much as she could
and pretended interest in the conversation around her.

Marco sat to the far right of her, seemingly
deep in conversation with the owner of the chateau the party was held at. He
glanced across, when the woman sitting on her left leaned into Elise with a
conspiratorial wink, her voice carrying across the table in a loud stage
whisper.

"So, I must say I never thought I would see
Marco getting married again. He was so in love with Jennifer. They were
childhood sweethearts, you know.
So
romantic. She broke poor Marco's
heart, of course. We all tried to console him, but alas, he wouldn't have us,
would you, dear Marco?"

Marco's azure eyes drew together in a frown, and
his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't believe a word Genevieve tells you,
Elise. She has a wonderful gift for exaggeration."

"Ah, Marco, you tease. But then you know
what he's like, right? I bet before too long you two will be making bambinos
like our host here."

Genevieve smiled at her, and Elise's heart
dropped as the whole table seemed to take a sudden interest in the subject of
babies.

Marco's smile froze on his face. One hand
clutched the napkin in front of him in a white-knuckled grip. The careful way
he moved his head in acknowledgment at the ribald humor erupting around the
table, spoke volumes, to her at least.

"If and when my wife and I decide to add to
the Giovanni, we'll make sure to inform you, shall we, Genevieve?"

He grimaced, and he drained his wine glass in
one long swallow before he set it down very carefully.

"Oh, do make sure you do, Marco."
Genevieve's annoying tinkle next to her grated on Elise's last nerve. She
groaned whilst trying to get away from the slimy hand wandering over her back.

Could this evening get any worse?

****

Marco was going to kill that weasel. All through
dinner he'd seen the creep manhandling her, and there wasn't a damn thing he
could do about it. Lucien de Beauchamp was a known sleaze-ball, as well as his
host's cousin. As much as he would like to rearrange the man's face, it
wouldn't be good for business. The Beauchamp vineyard were one of his best
customers, the fine Italian pastries his family recipes produced much admired
by the vineyard's staying guests.

Damn it all to hell
, he couldn't think straight tonight. Elise was as hot as sin
itself, and he knew that every man in that goddamn room had been mentally
undressing her all evening. Well, with the exception of Antoine. His stomach
clenched seeing his business partner caress the visibly rounded abdomen of his
heavily pregnant wife. They had been trying for some time, and he was happy for
them, truly he was, but fuck it hurt. Images of Elise heavy with his child
assaulted him out nowhere.
Dannazioni,
that was never going to happen.
He'd no idea how he was going to tell her. Bile churned in his stomach at the
thought of her reaction. She had a right to know. Hell, he owed her that much
at least.

She was his wife after all, for better and for
worse, definitely worse in this case. Could she handle it? Or would she make
him feel worthless, too?

Jennifer's sneering face swam in front of his
eyes.

"Call yourself a man, Marco? Don't make me
laugh. No one will want you, once they find out. Damaged goods that's what you
are."

Her cold laugh reverberated around the corners
of his consciousness. The door to that murky past suddenly flung wide open.
Fury, guilt and pain crashed down on him until he could hardly breathe.
 
Elise's arms around his neck, her soft curves
pressing against him, brought him back to the here and now as he took a deep
breath of her unique sweetness, and he crushed her to his long frame. She
melted into his embrace, her lush curves filling the distance, and soothing his
pain.

BOOK: Too Cold To Love
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