The Sicilian's Bought Bride by Carol Marinelli

Author:Carol Marinelli [Marinelli, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Fiction, Romance, General, Man-Woman Relationships, Love Stories, Arranged Marriage, Italians, Custody of Children
ISBN: 9780263185263
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2003-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

All of that she could have dealt with.

Could have fought his fire with her own.

Only it never came. For an age he didn’t answer, just calmly walked over and flicked off the taps she had forgotten were even running, and when he straightened up, when he turned to address her, his voice was incredibly even, his icy demeanor more chilling than any heated confrontation.

‘You make it sound as if you still have a choice, Catherine. You make it sound as if you are still considering the proposal I made back at the hotel.’ He held up his left hand, the heavy gold band she had placed there catching the light as he crossed the room towards her. ‘Might I remind you that we have a legally binding commitment to each other? The register you signed wasn’t a birthday card, or a casual letter you can rip up and forget about.’ His face was so close she could feel every word he uttered skim along her cheek, feel the tension in every muscle as he stood before her, body taut, eyes blazing. ‘You are my wife now, Catherine, with all that that entails.’

‘Surely you can’t expect us to share a bed? Surely after all that’s gone on you don’t expect us to sleep together?’

‘Back at the hotel I remember us sharing a bed together. I don’t remember you needing space then!’

‘That was then,’ Catherine retaliated. ‘I was confused, lonely…’ Pleading eyes begged him to understand, and if he’d just taken her in his arms, told her it was all okay, that it wasn’t just for appearances’ sake he wanted her in his bed, she’d have gone to him without hesitation—would have settled, even, for a convincing lie. But Rico was a closed book. Not one flicker of his face betrayed how he was feeling. Every emotion was guarded fiercely behind the mask he so readily wore.

‘I can’t do it, Rico. Please don’t make me.’

Her plea was genuine, for with one crook of his finger she knew she would dissolve like jelly in hot water—fall into his arms and betray herself with the words he didn’t want to hear. Or maybe he did, Catherine realised.

After all, if she loved him, he won.

‘We don’t have a choice.’ He nodded to the window. ‘Did you notice the press when we came home, Catherine? Are you foolish enough to think that they’ve got their pictures and gone home now?’ He gave a mocking laugh. ‘They don’t believe in fairytales any more than I do, and each and every one of them will want to be the first to prove their point—lights flicking on in the guest room will do just that. And if by some chance we manage to fool them on that score, how long do you think it will be before one of the staff decides Christmas should come a bit early?’

‘I don’t understand…’

‘Trust no one, Catherine,’ Rico said darkly, a mocking smile curving on his lips. ‘Except maybe me.’

‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better?’ Her pulse was pounding in her temples now—not gently, though.

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