Too Cold To Love (12 page)

 
"Dance with me, Marco. People are
staring." She whispered the words into his ear, the killer heels she wore
making her almost as tall as he. He lost himself in the expressive chocolate
pools of her eyes, and his feet started to move to the music. They swayed
together, and the rest of the room faded away, until he was only aware of the
woman in his arms and the need to brand her as his.
 
He drew her closer into him, and she gasped
when his erection brushed against her tummy. He kissed her neck, her sigh of
submission replacing her earlier anxiety. Her eyes drifted close, and her head
rested on his shoulder. He let his hands explore the silky soft expanse of her
bare back, and dropped butterfly kisses along her jawline. She pressed closer
into him, and his dark mood lifted, until a tap on his shoulder brought with it
the smiling face of Lucien.

"Allow me to cut in, Marco."

Like hell he would.

"I don't think so, Lucien." He mumbled
the words, aware of Elise seeking refuge behind him. She wrapped her arms around
his middle, and he interlinked his fingers with hers.

"Oh come on, Marco. You can dance with me,
for old time's sakes." Genevieve's smile set his teeth on edge, but he
couldn't cause a scene in the middle of a crowded ball room.

Elise must have come to the same conclusion,
because she released her trembling hold on him and stepped forward.

"Just one dance, then." She smiled up
at him, and before Marco could do anything that creep, Lucien, took advantage
of the opportunity; and he whirled a startled-looking Elise away.

Several dances later he finally managed to leave
the dance floor. But where the fuck was his wife?

****

Elise stood rigid in the corner, her arms
clamped to her sides, a smile plastered on her face.
Shit, shit, shit
.
She knew she hadn't managed to fasten the hooks on that blasted dress properly.
And Mr. Wandering Hands hadn't helped, she was sure. Where was Marco? If ever
she needed him now was definitely that time. But he was dancing with the
pregnant hostess, his face unreadable as he guided her around the dance floor
with infinite care.
Damn, I can't move. What am I going to do?
She could
just imagine Marco's anger, should she end up flashing everyone. He'd made it
abundantly clear that this party was important. That was the only reason she
hadn't given in to every one of her female instincts screaming at her to make
Mr. Lecherous Hands sing soprano for at least a day, if not a week. Hell, make
that permanently.

Oh blast.
He
advanced on her now, his tawny eyes raking her up and down in such a way, Elise
felt violated. She had met his kind before, of course, but then she'd been in
her sensible clothes, not this dress made for seduction.
 
What had she been thinking? This wasn't her.
She was a nanny for God's sake, an office temp, a fish out of water in this
room reeking of old money and success. She should never have agreed to marry
Marco. They moved in such different circles; it was never going to work. Any
minute now she would embarrass herself and Marco, and probably cost him a good
deal of money in the process.

"Now what could possibly have caused
Marco's beautiful wife such distress?"

Lucien's heavily accented English grated like
nails on the chalkboard of her mind. She tried in vain to scoot away from him
as he stepped deliberately into her personal space. The move made her top slip
even more, and she swore under her breath.

"Oh I see, what happened here? Let me help
you. It's the least I can do." And with a wide grin he reached around her.
He drew her into him whilst holding onto her dress and steering her out of the
open French doors.

The cool night air hit Elise's naked skin. She
shivered at Lucien's hands roaming freely over her back, and bile rose in her
throat as he tried to slip one hand under her dress.

"How dare you!"

"Oh come on, you've been asking for it,
cherie
.
Marco need never know. His last wife and I had so much fun."

Elise almost let go of her dress at that
statement.

"So you think to just pick up with me? Are
you
insane
? Whatever sick arrangement you had with that woman, it's not
going to include me."

Elise backed away from him slowly until she hit
a solid wall of warm male muscle and Marco's familiar scent wrapped itself
around her.
Oh, thank God.

Marco's low growl vibrated through her, and
despite the situation they found themselves in, her breath hitched. That had to
be the sexiest sound ever.

"What the hell have you done to my wife?
Give me one good reason why I shouldn't redecorate the shrubbery with the
remains of your face."

Arms of steel held her against his tense body,
and he rested his head on her shoulder for one moment, before he released her.
He shrugged out of his suit jacket and placed it around her shoulders and
unease travelled up Elise's spine when she dared look at him. The fury in the
swirling storms of his eyes wrapped an ice cold fist around her heart, and she
stepped away from him.

"Marco, I..."

"Save it, woman. We're getting out of here,
just as soon as I've dealt with this scum."

And before she could blink, Lucien's smug grin
was wiped off his face with a sickening crack, when Marco's fist broke the
man's nose.

Chapter Thirteen

"Oui, merci beaucoup. C'est
parfait."

Marco looked up at Elise's whispered words.
 
She was taking a bucket of ice off the wide
eyed young woman at the door. He flexed his bruised hand experimentally and
winced.
That fucking hurt.

It had been worth it, mind you, to see the
weasel go down like a sack of potatoes. Marco smiled grimly, recalling how
Lucien had held his bloodied nose. The fucker had screamed like a girl.

No one touched what was his ever again. He'd
literally seen red when he'd seen Elise in Beauchamp's arms heading for the
garden. This was the bitch of his ex-wife all over again. If Elise thought for
one minute that he would allow himself to be made a fool of again, then she had
another think coming.

When he'd seen that slime bucket advance on her,
the horrified expression on her face had only served to stoke the fires burning
in his gut. However, a small part of him had rejoiced at Elise's outrage and
the way she'd leant into him for support. He'd wanted to kill that bastard who
had her trembling like a leaf against him.

He hadn't of course, due to Elise hanging onto
him, her frightened cries echoing in his ears.

"Marco, don't, he's not worth it. Leave him
be, please. Marco. Let's just get out of here, please..."

They'd left, after he'd managed to hook her back
in her dress before the rest of the party had come into the garden, and all
hell had broken loose. He would have a bucket load of explaining to do tomorrow
that's for sure.

The sudden pain in his hand made him swear and
brought him back to the here and now.

"Sorry, Marco, but this should help. You're
lucky you didn't break it. What were you thinking?"

Elise knelt in front of him. She held the ice
wrapped in a towel to his bruised, nicely swelling knuckles, and the concern in
her eyes made his chest feel tight. He wasn't used to being fussed over.

"I'm sorry, Marco, this all my fault. I
never should have worn this dress. I don't know what I was thinking really,
it's just..."

"What,
pasticcino
?"

The hand she rested lightly on his thigh made
him forget the ache in his knuckles instantly. If only she'd move that just a
little higher, she'd know exactly how much he liked her in that dress.

"Nothing wrong with your dress, or lack of
it Elise. Scum like him just can't keep their hands to themselves. You look
stunning."

She shook her head. "I only wore it because
you pissed me off so much, Marco. I'm not proud of myself, and I let you down.
Instead of helping you, I've probably cost you a fortune, right?" She
glanced up at him. His gut clenched uncomfortably when he saw tears shimmering
in her eyes. He didn't deserve those tears. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"It's only money; other things are more
important, Elise. Protecting what's mine is one of them. He had it coming,
forget it; I deal with the fallout in the morning."

"I guess... the things he said about
Jennifer." She threw him a startled look at the expletive he couldn't help
but throw into the room.

"All true, I'm afraid. Our marriage was a
walking disaster area. I was just too dumb to see it at the time."

"You loved her that much." It wasn't a
question but a quietly uttered statement, and he closed his eyes at the force
of long buried emotions battered the frozen layers around his heart into
smithereens.

He shook her hand off. He couldn't just sit
there, he had to move, he had to...
Fuck it!
He wanted to break
something so badly right now, anything to not feel, to not let himself remember
the love-struck fool he'd once been.

"She really did a number on you didn't she,
Marco?"

He stopped his pacing and smiled grimly. He
leant against the wall to feign a nonchalance he was far from feeling.

"I learned my lesson well. Love is for
fools; it doesn't exist."

Her soft gasp reached him through the layers of
pain and misery.

"I don't believe that for a minute, Marco.
You love your family, I know you do, and not all women are like Jennifer. Don't
give up on all of us because of one sorry excuse for one."

"And I suppose you're the one to cure me of
my misconceptions, are you? I'd like to see you try."

****

The coldness of that reply stung like a slap to
the face. A direct contrast to the way his eyes devoured her, sending sensual
awareness skittering along her exposed skin where his heated gaze burned as
though he was physically touching her.

As a result, her reply was far breathier then
she would have liked.

"If you really feel like that, then why
force me into this marriage? I know, I know, you want her out of Mimi's life,
but you can't tell me your hot-shot solicitor couldn't have achieved that by
some other means. After all according to your logic, I'm just going to be one
huge disappointment."

Elise's heart was hammering in her chest so
loudly, she was sure it could be heard down in reception when Marco's smile
turned wicked. His gaze holding hers captive, he slowly advanced towards her
until he stood so close to her, her senses were drinking in Marco the man on
all levels.
 
He smelt so good, damn it.
The heat of his body warmed her exposed skin, and anticipation of his touch
made her sway slightly towards him. Her pussy clenched, and a gush of liquid
soaked her panties.

"Never a disappointment,
pasticcino
."
His low voice sent more delicious anticipation shivering down her spine,
waiting for the kiss that didn't come.

Instead, Marco stepped away from her. He shook
his head, muttering to himself in Italian.

Elise swallowed the bile of bitter
disappointment down. Something about the set of those big shoulders gave her
pause for thought, and acting purely on instinct she followed him across the
room, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Talk to me, Marco, please. Let me
help."

"There is nothing to talk about, Elise. You
must be exhausted. go to bed."

Elise let go of him.
Damn the stubborn man
.
She had to get him to open up somehow.

"I beg to differ, Marco Giovanni. For
pity's sake, talk to me. And you still owe me an explanation about the whole
kids issue."

Marco’s furious snarl resonated through her, but
she refused to budge. She stared him down instead until he grimaced.

"Fine, have it your way. What do you want
to know?"

****

Emotions flitted across Elise's expressive
features, as he told her the details of his visit to the specialist, he'd made
the week before the wedding.

"So, you see there is more chance of
winning the lottery than there is of you falling pregnant, at least not from
me."

He walked away from her, not wanting to see the
condemnation or heaven forbid pity in her beautiful eyes. He'd had a bellyful
of it from the eminent fertility specialist; he consulted in the vain hope that
there may have been an improvement since Mimi's birth.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Giovanni, but the latest
results are not good. If anything they're worse. Not uncommon at all. You've
been under a fair amount of stress, which won't have helped. I wish I could
say, take a holiday, relax, and the count will improve, but that would be
giving you false hope. It's highly unlikely that you will ever have another
child, even with intensive medical intervention."