‘Let me get this right. You’re offering sex as a bonus?’
A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw. ‘A normal marriage. The possibility of adding to our family.’
‘Forgive me.’ She was on a roll, and like a runaway train she couldn’t stop. ‘I’ve experienced your version of normal, and I hated the way it worked out.’
‘And nothing I say will convince you otherwise?’
Shannay drew herself up to her full height and glared at him with a look that would have seared a lesser man to a crisp. ‘No.’ With that she turned on her heel and began retracing her steps.
The thought of sitting opposite him calmly forking food into her mouth didn’t appeal. Besides, she wasn’t hungry.
Instead, she’d retrieve a book, go settle somewhere and read.
It would have been a good plan if she’d been able to concentrate on the written word.
After a while she tossed the book aside and turned on the television, only to channel-hop in a bid to find something of interest.
A cooking programme looked good, although it only served to remind her that she’d deliberately missed dinner.
OK, so admit you’re mad at him.
To think of agreeing to his so-called proposal is an insult.
It hadn’t been his wealth and position that had attracted her to him in the first place. Dammit, she hadn’t even known who he was!
The next few weeks couldn’t pass quickly enough, then she’d return home with Nicki and resume an ordinary life.
She must have slept, for she came sharply awake at the sound of a child’s cry, followed by a heart-wrenching sobbing.
Ohmigod … Nicki.
Shannay raced through the connecting en suite to find Nicki sitting up in bed drenched in tears, and she scooped her onto her lap and held her close.
‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’
The words had barely emerged from her mouth when Marcello entered the room, crossed to her side and queried quietly,
‘A bad dream?’
Concern shadowed her features. ‘She’s never woken like this before.’ She pressed a cheek to Nicki’s temple. ‘Tell Mummy, darling.’
Gradually the sobs reduced to intermittent hiccups, and Shannay was hardly aware of Marcello’s absence until he pressed a damp face-washer into her hand, which she proceeded to use.
‘There,’ she murmured gently. ‘That’s better.’
Marcello hunkered down and took hold of his daughter’s hand, only to mask his feelings as Nicki looked at him with large sorrow-filled eyes.
‘I don’t want Bisabuelo Ramon to die like Fred.’
He spared Shannay a quick, enquiring glance, then smoothed a hand over Nicki’s head on hearing the brief explanation. ‘Sometimes when people and animals are very very sick and medicine can no longer help them get better, they go to a special place where they’re no longer in pain.’
‘Like Fred.’
His smile held gentle warmth. ‘Yes, just like Fred,’ he agreed softly.
‘I talked to Fred all the time when he was sick.’
‘As you do when we visit Ramon, si?’
An earnest look entered her childish features and pierced his heart. ‘Can we see him tomorrow?’
‘Of course.’
‘Every day?’
‘Every day, I promise.’
‘I like him a lot.’
‘And he loves you very much.’
Nicki turned her head and looked at her mother. ‘I think I’ll go back to sleep now.’
The simplistic logic of children, Shannay perceived as she preceded Marcello out onto the gallery and quietly closed the door behind her.
He was close … too close, and she was conscious of the black T-shirt moulding his muscular frame, the jeans he’d quickly dragged on at the sound of Nicki’s first cry.
Did he still sleep naked between the sheets?
Shannay tried to ignore the image that rose too readily to mind … and failed miserably.
How was it possible to crave the touch of a man she professed to hate?
It didn’t make sense to be so drawn, to want to lean in against him, lift her mouth to his and savour all he chose to gift her.
Marcello caught the darkness in her eyes, the way her lower lip trembled a little … and lowered his head to her own, tasting the sweetness that was hers alone, heard the soft sigh whisper in her throat, and chose a gentle exploration that teased and tantalised, until she reached for him, holding his head fast as she angled her mouth into his own.
It felt good. He felt so good. The way his hands slid over her shoulders to rest at her waist as he drew her slender frame in against him, and she sensed his hunger, knew it met and matched her own.
His mouth became flagrantly sensual, deepening with devastating effect as he swept her steadily beyond rational thought to a place where nothing else mattered … except the need for more, so much more.
The long oversized T-shirt she wore proved no barrier to his questing hands as they sought the hemline and settled on silken flesh.
One hand cupped her bottom while the other slid to caress her breast, shaping the soft fullness as he brushed a thumb back and forth across the tender peak, feeling it swell and harden beneath his touch.
He eased his mouth free from her own and traced a path down the arched line of her throat to settle in the hollow at its base, before seeking the sensitive curve at the edge of her neck.
An open-mouthed kiss there sent a shivery sensation arching through her body, and her fingers sought and freed the snap fastening of his jeans in the need to explore warm muscle and sinew.
With one quick movement she tugged his T-shirt high and slid tactile fingers over the hard musculature beneath his ribcage, then slipped to trace his navel, before easing low over his arousal to cup his scrotum … and squeeze a little.
A husky growl sounded close to her ear, and strong hands slid beneath her knees as he carried her down to the master suite and used the heel of one foot to close the door before easing her down the hard length of his body to her feet.
Feverish hands rapidly dispensed with what clothes remained, and Shannay uttered a sharp cry as Marcello lifted her high and wrapped her thighs round his waist before lowering his mouth to her breast.
Sensation radiated from her central core, and she gasped out loud as he took the tender peak between his teeth and rolled it gently, taking her from intense pleasure almost to the edge of pain.
It was she who sought the curve at the edge of his neck … and suckled there, deliberately marking him before soothing the bite with the tip of her tongue.
He shifted slightly, and slowly lowered the most vulnerable and sensitive part of her anatomy over his swollen arousal, held her there, then gently rocked her until she groaned out loud in frustration.
‘Now.’ It was a muttered agonised plea he refused to heed, and she dug her fingers in his hair and tugged a little.
‘Please.’
In one smooth movement he slid her down and onto him, then inch by tortuous inch until he filled her.
Oh, dear heaven, it felt so good.