Marcello & Grace (Royals of Valleria #2) (9 page)

He shifted the angle of his head, and she barely kept up. God, she thought. This was what she had been missing all those years. All those years. All those years.

Her own small palms slid down his chest and she felt him shudder, but he didn’t stop kissing. She wrapped her own arms around his waist and let out another gasping breath.

His lips moved to her neck and she tilted her head back to give him better access, as her long, golden hair fell like a curtain behind her. “I don’t ever want to hear again how you’re a terrible kisser. You're so good at it that it’s taking all my energy to stay standing. You make my knees weak.”

“But you did all the work,” she said, her eyes closing as she felt his hot breath against her skin.

“You did plenty, believe me,” he muttered and pressed his erection against her. When she tried to draw back, he held her close. “That’s what you do to me, Grace,” he whispered. “Don’t ever apologize for that.”

He was aroused by her? She could not remember the last time a man had been aroused by her; Daniel certainly hadn’t been in the last several years.

Stop it
, she told herself.
Stop comparing Marcello to Daniel
. It was not fair to either of them, and it wasn’t fair to herself, either.

“You’re thinking too much again,” he whispered.

“How can you tell?”

“You get a crease right here,” he said as he kissed the spot between her eyebrows. Grace wasn’t sure why, but a gentle kiss on her forehead moved her almost as much a passionate one did.

“I can’t seem to help it. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing so damn much,” he said without any anger and nuzzled her neck. “God, you smell amazing. What is that? I can’t get it out of my head.” He brought his eyes to her again. “I can’t get you out of my head,” he said before he kissed her again.

The kiss was gentle and sweet, and reminded her of the first kiss she'd ever had at the tender age of thirteen. She almost felt she were that age again, for all the inexperience she felt.

Marcello pulled back to rest his head against hers. His hands shifted along her spine in a soothing motion, as sensation warred with the emotions swirling within her. "Are you all right, fair Grace?"

"Yes."

"Good," he said and kissed her forehead before pulling back. "Do you want some more tea?"

"No, thank you," she said as she took a step back herself. Now free of his warm arms, she felt a sudden chill and hugged herself in defense of it. "I've got too much to see to before dinner."

"It's a shame we aren't going to have any dancing tonight," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I really liked holding you in my arms, and I'd like to do it again."

"I don't think I'd mind it if you did," she said, then swallowed. His eyes glanced to her neck while his body remained stiff but not angry; it was almost as though he were holding himself back.

"I'll remember that," he said in a low voice that reverberated through her.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, well, I think I'll just go see to the arrangements for tonight," she said as she turned away from his intense gaze. As she walked back through the closet and bedroom, his laptop caught her eye.

The screen was covered with a photo of a dense forested area, and a bright red 'X' marked the top of a dark gray building. What looked like latitude and longitude coordinates were stamped across the image. Before she could glean any more information from the image, the lid of the computer shut. She swiveled her head around to meet his impassive face.

"Sorry, you weren't meant to see that," he said.

"I didn't mean to intrude," she said, then took a closer look at his face. He was hiding something, though that should not have surprised her considering he was in military intelligence. "What's going on, Marcello?"

"Nothing."

The word echoed in her mind.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing
. She had heard that word many times from Daniel. Sometimes it described her, sometimes it was a lie he had told when she had asked about his overly friendly behavior with other women. She did not care for the word at all.

"Don't tell me it's 'nothing'," she snapped and his face registered surprise. "If you can't tell me what's going on, fine, but I won't stand for lies. Not in my house."

His hand touched her arm, and he said, "I'm sorry. You're right. I was lying and it was wrong. I can't tell you what's going on, though."

She nodded and stepped away, but his hand stayed on her arm, holding her back. "Are you angry with me?" he asked.

She wasn't sure what she was. "I don't know."

"You don't know if you're angry with me?" he asked, his voice mildly amused. To Grace, the tone felt as though he were laughing at her, and her feelings. She’d been laughed at too many times over the years.

Unwilling to face a confrontation with him, however, she tore her arm free from his hold and ran out of the room and down the hall towards her own, Marcello following quickly behind. When she couldn't get her door open fast enough, his hand came over hers on the doorknob.

A flashback of Daniel had her jerking back and away from him, gasping as she instinctually held her palms out in front of her. She could feel the anger rise within him, sharp and fast. She saw it in his eyes and his contorted face.

He opened the door with a swift flick of his wrist and, in a thin voice, said, "Get inside."

When she did nothing but slowly lower her hands, he sighed and said, "Please."

***

She walked cautiously towards him, as though he might use his anger against her. The idea was like a swift slash of pain across his chest. How could she think that about him? Why would she think that about him? She moved like a deer who knew it was hunting season.

When she stepped by him to enter her room and her damn scent reached him again, he wanted to reach out and shake her or kiss her senseless until she knew he was not her dead, worthless husband.

"Grace," he said in an unexpectedly emotional voice. "I'm sorry for scaring you. Truly, I am."

Her arms were wrapped around her, as if she were broken and trying to hold herself together. The sight tore at his heart.

When she didn't respond, he continued. "I would never hurt you. Can't you see that I'm not the same man your husband was?"

"Then why did you run away from me this morning?" she blurted out.

"I already shown you what you do to me," he said and saw pink stain her cheeks. "The truth is that I’ve got feelings for you Grace."

“You've got feelings for me? You mean physically.”

“I mean personally. It’s true I’m attracted to you, Grace. Good God, look at you; you’re beautiful.”

When she just stared at him wide-eyed, he inched closer to her. “I’ve also got feelings for you, Grace. I don’t quite know what to do about it, but I’ve got some ideas."

"Ideas? Like what?"

"Kiss you for starters."

"I don't understand," she said and walked away to the window, leaving him with a view of her slim, straight back.

“What don’t you understand?”

“We barely know each other. How can you feel anything for me?”

“I don’t know, Grace,” he said as he walked over to her. He leaned against the window and her eyes, as light a blue as the walls surrounding them, swirled with emotion as they stared back at him. He lifted his hand to caress her cheek. “You were tugging at me long before I ever met you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since Cat first mentioned you to me, almost a month ago, I felt something for you.”

“What? What did she say about me?”

His thumb was stroking her soft cheek, and he was pleased she hadn’t stepped back from him. “She just said you’d had it tough, with your husband dying young.”

“That’s all she said?”

Marcello paused, but knew the truth would go farther even while it brought her pain. “She thought you hadn’t had the easiest marriage, but she didn’t mention any details.”

Grace looked out the window for a minute before she spoke. “Cat didn’t know any details, not about my life after I got married. I made sure no one knew.” He shifted slightly closer while she continued, and his hand took hold of hers.

“In the end, I guess the joke was on me; everyone knew but no one said anything.”

“Grace.”

“No, it’s true. What you felt when Cat spoke about me, it was just pity. I’ve had enough of it to last me a lifetime and I don’t care for any more.”

When she shifted to turn away again, he held her hand steady and firm, forcing her to look at him. “Maybe that was part of it, in the beginning,” he said truthfully. “But none of that held true once I met you. I don’t pity you, Grace,” he said as he deftly wrapped an arm around her and brought her close.

“Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t pity you. I adore you,” he said and knew as soon as he had spoken the words that they were absolutely true. “I don’t know everything about you, just as you don’t know everything about me, but I know that much.”

She tried to pull away. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying. I saw you on a stormy night, your golden hair in a braid I just wanted to unravel,” he said as he drew one hand through her long, soft locks. “I wanted you, as a man wants a woman. I’ve never felt lust so strong before in my life.”

“Never?”

The truth again, he decided. “I wasn’t innocent when I came here, Grace. I loved once before, and it ended badly. I realize now, knowing the feelings that are growing inside me for you, that what I felt for her was nothing compared to this.”

“Who was she?” she asked and then blushed. “I’m sorry. I don’t have a right to ask.”

“I told you to stop apologizing so much, and I meant it. You can ask whatever you want, and I’ll answer if I can.” The mission flitted through his mind, but he pushed it out again.

He took a deep breath. Only a few people, like Alex and his sister, Arianna, knew about Julia. “She was another intelligence officer I was working with, American, on a covert mission. I can’t give you details about that.”

“I understand.”

“What I can tell you was that it was a long con. Julia and I spent months and months together. When you go deep undercover like that, well, it’s hard not to get too close with someone, the only one, who knows who you really are.”

“And your being royalty wasn’t an issue? You weren’t recognized?”

“Let’s just say I looked different, and no one would have put two and two together. Being the fourth child and third son of a king has its upsides; no one really pays attention to you.”

“What happened?”

“She betrayed me. In the end, she turned out to be a double agent. She double crossed me, but I managed to pull the mission off without her.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I was young and reckless, stupid on top of that, and needed to prove myself to my country and my family.”

“Don’t call yourself stupid,” she said fervently. “It’s a terrible word.”

He wondered how many times her husband had called her that. “Well, I was certainly naïve, if nothing else.”