Latin Lovers: Italian Playboys: Bought for the Marriage Bed / The Italian GP's Bride / The Italian's Defiant Mistress. Kate Hardy
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didn’t know. It’s been a … recent thing. I wanted to improve myself … for Georgia’s sake.’
‘Doesn’t one have to study at university in order to be a librarian?’
‘Er … yes, I did that a few years ago … before I … you know … went off the rails a bit.’
Nina knew she was skating on ever thinning ice. She could see the suspicion growing in his eyes as he watched her.
‘How important is this job to you?’ he asked after a small pause.
She looked at the now sleeping baby in her baby seat in the back. ‘Not as important as Georgia,’ she answered softly.
Marc drew in a breath and opened the passenger door for her. ‘Get in. We will talk about this later.’
Nina slipped into the seat and clipped on her belt, all the time wondering if she had blown it. She hoped not, for the thought of never seeing her niece again was unbearably painful.
She spent the rest of the silent journey wondering how she was going to maintain her charade. When she looked up she saw that they were not at her flat but in the driveway of an imposing looking mansion in the exclusive harbourside suburb of Mosman.
She turned in her seat to look at him. ‘This is your house?’
He looked at her for so long without responding that she wondered if she had just made another slip. She’d always assumed that Nadia had met Andre in hotels but it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps she had visited him at home—this home.
‘Do you not remember coming here?’ he asked. She disguised a nervous swallow. ‘It looks vaguely familiar,’ she hedged.
The line of his mouth thinned in anger. ‘You appear to have a very convenient memory pattern, Nina. You simply delete the things you find distasteful to recall.’ He got out of the car and came around to open her door, his expression still tight with fury. ‘Let me remind you, then. You came here the night before Andre was killed, banging on the door and making a general nuisance of yourself. God knows where you had left Georgia. My brother had no choice but to let you in and once inside you tried to seduce him.’ His dark eyes glittered dangerously. ‘Remember now?’
She opened and closed her mouth, not sure how to answer.
‘I could go into more detail if you would like,’ he added. ‘Or are you starting to remember all by yourself?’
‘I don’t need you to tell me how dreadfully I behaved,’ she said, lowering her gaze. ‘I was … upset and lonely, and I didn’t know which way to turn.’
Marc watched her in silence, wondering if he was being too harsh. There was so much about her that was confusing. Just when he thought he had her all figured out she would go and do something that would contradict his assessment of her. Lately he had even started to question all his brother had told him, wondering if Andre had deliberately painted a worse picture in order to exonerate himself from any wrongdoing on his part.
Having a baby without the support of the father was undoubtedly a stressful, worrying experience and, although her behaviour had been outrageous, a part of him wanted to find an excuse so that he didn’t have to hate her quite so strenuously. It had only been just over four months since she’d given birth; she might even be suffering from some sort of hormonal imbalance and the last thing she needed was the heavy hand of judgement. It intrigued him that she could be so shallow one minute and yet so devoted to her daughter the next. Unless it was all an act for his benefit, he knew he would have a fight on his hands convincing any magistrate she wasn’t a fit mother. The truth was, as far as he could tell so far, she was a wonderful mother. The very fact that she had tried to juggle work and childcare in order to provide for her daughter without a handout from him, even though he’d offered it, surely demonstrated that she was keen to turn her bad reputation around.
‘It is pointless discussing it now,’ he said. ‘What is done is done and cannot be undone.’
As they approached the large front door of his house a woman in her late fifties and of Italian descent appeared in its frame. She greeted her employer with deference but the look she cast Nina’s way would have curdled milk.
Marc spoke to her in Italian but, to Nina’s surprise, he didn’t say anything remotely derogatory about her. He simply informed the housekeeper of his plan to marry within the next few days and that Nina and Georgia were to be made as comfortable as possible.
The woman muttered something Nina didn’t quite catch and Marc admonished her. ‘Yes, Lucia, I do know what I am doing and why I am doing it. You will treat both Nina and Georgia with respect at all times.’
The housekeeper grunted something in reply and sidled away as Marc turned to Nina. ‘Just as well you do not understand my language,’ he said. ‘You have not made a good impression, it seems.’
‘No, I imagine not.’
She followed him inside and tried not to look too much in awe of her surroundings, but it was impossible at times not to openly gasp at the priceless works of art which hung from every wall and the plush furnishings that spoke of unlimited wealth.
‘I will have Lucia bring us coffee shortly,’ Marc informed her as he opened the double doors leading to a formal sitting room. ‘But first I would like to speak to you about the arrangements I have made for our marriage.’
Nina followed him into the room, watching as he repositioned Georgia, who was still fast asleep in his arms. He indicated for her to be seated and once she had sunk to the sofa he too sat down, his long legs stretching out in front of him as he tucked Georgia close to his chest.
‘I have to go to Hong Kong on business,’ he said. ‘I will be away until the day before our wedding.’
‘I see.’
‘I would like you to move in here while I am away to settle Georgia into her new home. Lucia can help you with Georgia so you can continue to work, if that is what you would like to do, although you will need to take some leave of absence, as the day after the wedding we will be leaving for a short trip to Sorrento in Italy to visit my father.’
Nina had to stop herself from springing off the sofa in agitation. She stared at him in shock and consternation. She couldn’t leave the country with a child that wasn’t hers! And, even if she dared to do so and wasn’t stopped, how would she cope with a long-haul flight after what had happened the last time she’d flown? Her flight home from a friend’s wedding in Auckland had hit severe turbulence during a storm. It had been the most frightening experience of her life and she had not flown since. The mere thought of boarding a plane made her break out in a sweat, but boarding it with a small child in tow could only be a hundred times worse.
‘I—I can’t go,’ she said. ‘I don’t like flying.’
‘Oh, really?’ He gave her one of his cynical looks. ‘Is this a recent thing?’
‘Yes. I had a bad experience three years ago.’
‘But I assume not bad enough to prevent you from flying to Paris last year to hound Andre,’ he observed.
Nina had forgotten all about Nadia’s trip to Paris.
‘I … It comes and goes. The fear, I mean. Sometimes I’m fine, other times I get all panicky.’
‘Well, perhaps flying in my private jet with my staff to wait on you will alleviate some of your fears,’ he said coolly. ‘I will need your and Georgia’s passports to make the travel arrangements.’
‘I would really prefer not to go.’ She got to her feet and began to pace back and forth. ‘I have to work.’
‘I think in the interests of Georgia you might consider taking leave from work. Most new mothers take a few months off. I am providing you with a generous allowance, so unless you are in particular need of any mental stimulation your job provides, I would suggest taking a break.’
Nina