‘I will arrange for a special license,’ Mario said, watching as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the middle of each of Molly’s tiny palms.
Sabrina continued to dress Molly with hands that were not quite steady. ‘How soon do you expect it will be before we…?’ She faltered over the word. ‘Er, marry?’
‘As soon as it can be arranged,’ he answered. ‘No longer than a week, maybe even less.’
Sabrina felt her stomach lurch sideways. A week? She picked up the baby and laid her against her right shoulder as she faced him again. ‘That seems…rather rushed.’
‘Do you have a current passport?’ he asked.
‘Yes, but—’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I will need that and your birth certificate to make all the arrangements.’
‘Mario, I—’
‘It is imperative we get going on this, Sabrina,’ he said with an indomitable look. ‘Besides, I want to get back home to where my business commitments await me.’
No doubt your mistress awaits you too, Sabrina thought resentfully as she took out Molly’s bottle, which was encased in the Thermos container, and settled down to feed the restless baby. Once Molly was sucking contentedly, Sabrina looked up at Mario who was standing a short distance away, watching her like a predator with its targeted prey.
‘You said it wasn’t to be a real marriage,’ she said, feeling her cheeks bloom with colour, and her whole body shiver in reaction as she thought of what a real marriage to him would involve if he put his mind to it. ‘You also intimated it was temporary. What sort of time limit are you thinking of?’
‘Molly is a tiny infant,’ he said. ‘She needs a full-time mother at least until she is of nursery-school age.’
Sabrina felt suspicion crawl up her spine, making her sit more upright in her chair. ‘So what happens then?’ she asked.
‘I will engage the services of a nanny and then you can have your freedom.’
Sabrina frowned at his arrogance. ‘So I am to be expelled from Molly’s life just like that?’ she asked.
‘Not necessarily from Molly’s life,’ he said. ‘But from mine. We can have a quiet dissolution of the marriage and then both get on with our lives.’
‘So let me get this straight,’ she said with a guarded look. ‘You get full guardianship of Molly in Italy while I get sent back to Australia, is that what you’re suggesting?’
He gave an indifferent lift of one broad shoulder. ‘That will be entirely up to you, of course,’ he said. ‘As my ex-wife you will have full residency in my country, but whether you choose to live in Rome or Sydney will ultimately be your decision.’
‘Do you really think I would just walk away from Molly as if she meant nothing to me?’ she asked, still frowning furiously. ‘And what about what Molly wants? She will have come to look upon me as her mother. She’s practically doing it now. What you are suggesting is not just outrageous, it’s cruel to both Molly and to me.’
He lifted his dark brows at her vehemence. ‘Come now, Sabrina,’ he said coolly. ‘You have looked after young children before, becoming involved with every aspect of their lives, only to leave when the family no longer requires your services.’
‘That’s not the same thing at all,’ Sabrina argued.
‘Are you saying you did not have any affection for the children you were employed to look after?’ he asked.
Sabrina could feel her hatred of him simmering in her veins. It was pulsing through the intricate, narrow network in her body, threatening to burst out at any moment. She knew what he was doing; he was going to sideline her right from the start. She would be more than useful to him during the next two or three years while Molly was a baby and toddler, but after that she would be dismissed, just like any other servant in his employ.
‘Of course I develop great affection for the children in my care, but Molly is my godchild, the daughter of my best friend. It’s an entirely different relationship, especially given the circumstances now.’
‘Your marriage to me will not be permanent,’ he said. ‘As long as you understand that, there will not be a problem if you wish to continue to see Molly once our marriage is brought to an end.’
Sabrina stood and lifted the baby against her chest to wind her, gently patting the tiny back, her eyes still tussling with his. ‘You think you’ve got this all worked out, haven’t you? I know what you are doing, Mario. You want a cheap babysitter while you continue to live your playboy lifestyle.’
He gave her a smile, his eyes reflecting its mockery. ‘Cheap, Sabrina?’ he said. ‘Is that how you would describe yourself? Certainly the press called you such, and a whole lot more, if I recall.’
She gave him a flinty glare. ‘I am not going to be dismissed from Molly’s life at your say-so. I want to remain a part of her life no matter what happens between us.’
‘Nothing is going to happen between us, Sabrina,’ he said. ‘Or have you got other ideas, hmm? A little affair with me to pass the time, just like you did with Mr Roebourne, sì?’
This time her look was withering. ‘I have met some creeps in my time, and up until now Howard Roebourne was at the top of that list. But you, Mario Marcolini, have just bumped him off.’
His smile was still mocking as he came up close and stroked a long finger down the baby’s cheek. Sabrina sucked in a breath; he was so close she could see the sandpapery stubble on his jaw, and the unfathomable black holes of his pupils in the deep, dark chocolate of his eyes. The air around her face carried a trace of his scent, a mixture of aftershave and male pheromones, making her heart give a funny, out-of-time beat.
She quickly lowered her eyes and encountered the flat plane of his chest and stomach; she could almost imagine the six pack of ridged muscle lying beneath his designer shirt. She daren’t look any lower; she had spent too many nights as it was thinking about how he was made. The hardened length of him in full arousal as he had taken control of her amateur kiss at Molly’s christening had made the blood race frantically in her veins both then and since.
She felt his finger beneath her chin as he lifted her face upwards. ‘Is that how you did it?’ he asked with a curl of his lip and a hard glint in his eyes. ‘Is that how you lured a respectable married man away from his wife, by looking at him with those smoky, grey come-to-bed eyes of yours?’
Sabrina would have pulled away from his touch but she didn’t want to disturb Molly, who had drifted off to sleep against her shoulder. ‘I did not seduce him, or anyone,’ she said, glaring back at him.
His finger moved from beneath her chin and came to her mouth, tracing a pathway over the fullness of her bottom lip, barely touching, making every sensitive nerve begin to leap and dance beneath the skin. ‘Ah, but that is not quite true, is it, Sabrina?’ he said in a low spine-loosening murmur. ‘It is not hard to see why so many men would find it hard to resist a taste of its sweetness. I have not forgotten how tempting it was to taste it myself when you so very kindly offered it to me.’
Sabrina stood very still, barely able to breathe in case she betrayed herself. She wanted to taste his finger, to draw it into her mouth, to suck on it, to see if his pupils would flare with desire the way she suspected hers were currently flaring. Her gaze flicked to his mouth, the sensual contours of it pulling on the secret strings of desire deep and low in her belly. It was like torture to stand so close and not touch him. She had blamed the champagne the day of the christening, but she was stone-cold sober now, and still she wanted his mouth to set hers alight. What was wrong with her? Was she somehow turning into the raunchy Jezebel the press had made her out to be?
His hand dropped from her face. ‘I need