Page 46 of Bought For The Marriage Bed

She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep but, as exhausted as she was, it was impossible to ignore Marc sitting so close beside her. She could smell his aftershave and even the fresh fragrance of his newly laundered shirt, and every time he moved in his seat she felt the gentle brush of his muscled arm against hers.

She caught him watching her once or twice, the slightly frowning thoughtful look in his eyes unsettling her deeply. Did he already suspect she wasn’t who she had said she was? After last night he must surely be suspicious. She’d seen the same suspicion in Lucia’s eyes this morning, the way she had looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

When they finally arrived at the airport in Naples they were met by a member of the Marcello staff who had a car waiting. As they drove to Sorrento, Nina could pick up bits of the exchange between the driver and Marc.

‘How is my father, Guido?’

‘He is fading, Signore Marcello. He is living for the moment he sees Andre’s child.’

‘Yes…’ Nina heard Marc’s deep sigh, his tone immeasurably sad. ‘I know.’

The Villa Marcello was situated a short distance out of Sorrento on top of a cliff overlooking the Bay of Naples, the surrounding hills densely wooded where olives and vines grew lushly along with lemon and orange groves. The villa was not old but it was built in the classical style and beautifully maintained with terraced gardens and cobbled walkways.

Nina looked around in quiet awe. The view across the water was nothing short of breathtaking; in the distance she could make out the shape of the Isle of Capri and the gulf of Positano and the warm summer air was scented with lemons and the salty tang of the sea.

She held Georgia close as Marc led her by the elbow towards the front entrance where another member of staff was chatting animatedly with Lucia, who had gone on ahead.

Lucia moved inside as the small Italian woman she had been speaking to turned and bowed respectfully to her employer.

‘Buon giorno, Signore Marcello. Your father is waiting for you in the salon.’

‘Grazie, Paloma.’

Paloma’s dark eyes slid in Nina’s direction but, instead of the frosty reception Nina had been expecting and mentally preparing herself for, the little woman smiled warmly. ‘You are very welcome, Signora Marcello. My English is not good but I will try to be of help to you.’

‘You are very kind,’ Nina responded. ‘Grazie.’

Marc led the way into the palazzo, their footsteps echoing on the marble floors. Yet another member of staff was waiting outside the door of the salon and opened it as they approached.

Nina stepped into the room two steps behind Marc, her eyes going immediately to the figure seated in a wheelchair next to a large sofa.

‘Papa.’ Marc bent over his father and kissed both of his cheeks in turn. ‘It is good to see you.’

Vito Marcello’s thin hands gripped the sides of his chair as Marc brought Nina forward. ‘Papa, this is Nina and your grandchild, Georgia.’

Nina held out her hand but the old man ignored it as his gaze went to the baby perched on her hip. She saw the sheen of moisture in his eyes and the slight tremble of his chin as he reached out a gnarled hand towards Georgia.

Georgia gurgled and dimpled at him, her tiny hands reaching down to him.

Nina had to fight back her own tears at the sight. She lowered the child to his lap and stepped aside, surreptitiously hunting for a tissue. She caught Marc’s penetrating gaze and looked away, pretending an interest in the view from the window.

‘She is so like Andre…and your mother.’ Vito spoke in Italian, his voice husky with feeling.

Nina turned and saw the way Marc’s throat moved up and down as if swallowing the emotion his father’s observation had evoked.

‘Yes.’

‘For once you have done the right thing, Marc,’ his father went on in his own tongue. ‘I know it is not what you want, to be tied to such a woman, but it will soon be over. I have already sought legal counsel. When the time comes you will have no trouble taking the child off her.’

Nina had to fight hard not to reveal her comprehension. She pretended an interest in the view, her spine stiffening with anger.

‘Papa, there are things we need to discuss, but not now,’ Marc said in a low tone, his gaze flicking to Nina standing rigidly by the window.

Vito’s lip curled in derision. ‘You think she understands a word of our conversation? Then you are a fool, Marc. Andre told me she is an uneducated empty-headed whore. Do not tell me you doubt it? What has she done to you, talked her way into your bed?’

When Nina turned back around she saw the way Marc’s jaw tightened as a tinge of colour rose over his cheekbones but she had no other choice than to school her features into a blank mask when his eyes briefly sought hers.

‘Do not forget what she has done!’ Vito continued heatedly.

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