Latin Lovers: Italian Playboys: Bought for the Marriage Bed / The Italian GP's Bride / The Italian's Defiant Mistress

As she had more or less expected, there had been no further contact from Nadia. Nina had tried her mobile repeatedly, but each time the message service informed her the phone was out of service, and the numerous text messages she’d sent went unanswered. As her sister hadn’t given her a forwarding address it made it even more impossible for Nina to escape the tight net that was surrounding her minute by minute.

She tossed the letter from Marc aside to respond to Georgia’s cries for attention, doing her best to keep her mind away from the thought of being married to a man who hated her so much.

As she came back out to the small sitting room with Georgia tucked close to her, the phone rang and she reached to answer it.

‘Nina.’ Marc’s deep voice sounded in her ear. ‘It’s Marc.’

‘Marc who?’ She was back in Nadia’s personality as if by simply hearing his smooth as melted chocolate voice an internal switch had flicked back on inside her.

She heard his indrawn breath and mentally congratulated herself for winning this small battle even though she knew he was more than likely to win the war in the end.

‘I am quite sure with the reputation you have worked on so assiduously you have doubled up on some names by now,’ he drawled insolently.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ she threw back.

‘Did you get my letter?’

‘Let me see …’ She rustled the small collection of bills that had gathered on the table beside her just to irritate him. ‘Ah, yes, here it is. It’s a pre-nup, isn’t it?’

‘You surely did not think I would marry you without protecting myself?’

‘That depends on what sort of protection you’re talking about.’

‘This is a business deal, Nina, nothing more and nothing less.’

‘Fine by me,’ she said. ‘As long as you don’t try and go back on your word. How do I know if I can trust you?’

There was a brief but tense pause.

Nina imagined him grinding his teeth on the other end in an effort to maintain some sort of politeness and her stomach gave another funny little quiver.

‘You will get your allowance as soon as the marriage is conducted and not a second before,’ he bit out at last.

‘Don’t you trust me, Mr Marcello?’ She used her sister’s tone with relish. ‘Do you think I might try and dupe you?’

‘I would very much like to see you try,’ he challenged her darkly. ‘I am sure I do not have to warn you of the consequences if there is any double-dealing on your part.’

Nina couldn’t help an inward shiver at the irony of his coolly delivered statement. As far as double-dealing went, hadn’t she already dug her own grave?

‘By the way,’ he said, ‘since we are marrying in a matter of days it is hardly appropriate for you to continue to call me by my surname.’

‘Marc.’ She breathed his name seductively. ‘Is that short for Marco?’

‘No, it is short for Marc,’ he said. ‘It is French, like my mother.’ ‘Do you speak French as well as Italian?’ ‘Yes, along with several other languages.’ She was privately impressed but wasn’t going to acknowledge it to him.

‘What about you?’ he asked when she didn’t immediately respond.

‘Me?’ She gave a quick snort. ‘All that foreign rubbish? No way! English is the universal language, why anyone would bother chattering away in anything else is completely beyond me.’

She was more or less fluent in both his mother’s tongue and in Italian, but had decided to keep it to herself. She’d studied languages at both school and tertiary level and enjoyed a certain level of proficiency. But it suited her purpose to let him think her a complete airhead who had nothing better to do than primp and preen to fill the time.

‘I have made an appointment with my lawyer to meet us at my office for us to sign the pre-nuptial agreement. You will also need to bring along your birth certificate so I can arrange the marriage licence,’ he said. ‘Is ten a.m. tomorrow convenient?’

Nina’s heart started to pound with misgivings. Pretending to be her sister had been manageable to begin with, but now she was going to be signing binding documents in the presence of a lawyer. What if she were sent to prison for fraud? What would happen to Georgia then? Just as well she’d told him her real name was Nina, and even more fortunate she was the older twin, for only her name appeared on the document, making no mention of her twin as was the practice at the time. But what if he ever looked at Georgia’s birth certificate? Nadia’s name was printed there, not hers. How would she be able to explain that?

‘Nina?’ His deep voice interrupted her quiet panic.

‘Sorry.’ She hitched her niece a little higher on her hip. ‘Georgia was slipping.’

‘You are holding her?’

Just then Georgia gave a happy little gurgle as if she were responding to the sound of her uncle’s voice.

‘Yes,’ Nina said, smiling down at her niece. ‘I was about to put her back down for a sleep when you called.’

‘How is she?’

‘She’s fine.’

‘Does she wake much at night?’

‘Once or twice,’ she told him. ‘But she soon settles back down.’ ‘Tell me something, Nina.’ An indefinable quality entered his voice. ‘Do you enjoy being a mother?’

Nina didn’t hesitate in responding, ‘Of course I do.’ There was a strange little silence.

She wondered if she should have been quite so honest. Perhaps Nadia would have answered completely differently and he was temporarily thrown by the sudden change of character.

‘You do not strike me as the maternal type.’ His tone was laced with scorn.

‘What do I strike you as, Marc?’ she asked in her most seductive voice, determined to make amends for her previous lapse in character.

Sitting in his office, Marc sighed, ignoring her last remark. ‘I’ll pick you up at nine-fifteen tomorrow,’ he told her.

‘Do you have a baby seat in your car?’ she asked.

Marc frowned. He hadn’t even thought about those sorts of details.

‘I will have one fitted this afternoon.’

‘I can catch a bus,’ she offered. ‘Where is your office?’

‘I insist on picking you up.’

‘I won’t be going with you if your car isn’t adequately fitted for carrying a child. It’s not safe.’

Marc released his tight breath. ‘I will have the seat fitted if it is the last thing I do, all right?’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Can I trust you on that?’