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

‘Since your own clothes are designer labels, surely your child is entitled to the same?’ A hard edge had crept into his voice.

Nina tensed as she pushed the lid back down on the baby wipes container. She’d picked up one of Nadia’s cast-offs thinking it was one of the more conservative of the collection she’d left behind, never dreaming it was actually haute couture.

‘This old thing?’ she quipped with a disdainful glance down at the cashmere she was wearing.

Marc’s mouth curled. ‘I suppose you only wear an outfit once before it is thrown to the back of the wardrobe?’

Nina almost laughed at how close he was to describing her sister’s attitude to clothes. She could have afforded designer wear herself if she’d been given a dollar for every time she’d picked some discarded article up off the floor after one of Nadia’s wild nights out.

She tossed her long hair behind one shoulder and smiled up at him saucily. ‘Is it my fault I get bored easily?’

‘You know something, Nina Selbourne?’ He gave her a cutting look. ‘I am almost looking forward to being married to you so I can teach you how to behave. You are the shallowest young woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet. I think it will be a great pleasure to bring you to heel as someone should have done a very long time ago.’

Nina pretended to shudder in trepidation. ‘Oh! I am sooo scared of you, Mr Marcello.’

His black eyes glittered with contempt. ‘If I was not holding Georgia right at this minute I would be tempted to begin lesson one right here and now,’ he bit out.

Nina’s eyes flashed at him with false bravado. ‘You lay one finger on me and you will be the poorer for it.’

‘It would be worth it, I can assure you,’ he shot back.

‘You think?’ She tilted her chin at him. ‘Your brother certainly thought so.’

Nina knew the only thing that saved her at that point was the fact that Georgia was in his arms. Her tiny starfish hands were clutching at the stark whiteness of his business shirt, her little elfin face looking up at him as if in wonder, her brown-black eyes so like his own with their thick fringe of lashes.

Nina saw the struggle he had to control himself playing out on his features as he stood before her. The line of his mouth was grim, his jaw tight with suppressed anger and his eyes sparking at her as if he wanted to torch her to the ground right then and there.

The intercom on his desk broke the brittle silence.

‘Mr Marcello?’ Katrina’s cheerful tone entered the room like a light being switched on in pitch blackness. ‘Your father is on line two.’

Marc handed Georgia back to Nina without meeting her eyes. ‘Excuse me.’ He turned his back to attend to the call.

Nina reached with one hand for the baby pouch where she’d left it earlier when she heard the first few words of Marc’s conversation with his father. Even though he spoke his native tongue rapidly she had studied the language long enough to pick up on the general gist of the exchange.

‘Yes,’ Marc said. ‘I have found a solution. I am marrying her on the fifteenth.’

Nina couldn’t hear what his father said in response but she could more or less piece together the rest on Marc’s reply.

‘No, she insists she does not want any money or anything to do with Andre’s estate … I am not sure but I suspect she is trying to butter me up by pretending to be a changed person. Yes, I have arranged an allowance but it will not take her long to work her way through that, I am sure. Yes, I know she is everything that Andre said and more. I know, I know … she is an unprincipled whore …’

Nina had trouble keeping her reaction disguised. She silently fumed and vowed revenge on his insulting assessment of her as she eased Georgia back into the pouch.

‘Yes … I know, I will watch my back, and yes.’ Marc gave a distinctly male chuckle ‘… my front as well. Ciao.’

Nina smiled guilelessly as she turned back to face him. ‘So, where are we going shopping?’

A short time later, as they began trawling the department stores as well as exclusive designer boutiques, Nina had cause to wonder if she had catapulted herself into some sort of shopaholic’s dream. Marc’s credit card was flashed so many times she thought she was going to go blind with the amount of currency going past her eyes as he bought item after item for his niece. Beautiful clothes, expensive toys, special feeder cups for when she came off her bottle—all were parcelled off to be delivered to his office.

When it was time for Georgia’s next feed Marc suggested they go to a quiet café where she could feed the baby whilst they had a coffee and a sandwich.

Nina wished she wasn’t starving so she could refuse, but she’d missed breakfast due to Georgia’s crying bout and her stomach was letting her know in no uncertain terms it was well and truly time for a pit stop.

They were soon seated in a booth in a café overlooking the lively shopping mall below. The rushing lunchtime crowds and talented buskers performing below added to the high energy of the city.

Georgia’s bottle was soon heated and brought back to the table by a young waitress. Once she’d gone, Nina was about to offer her niece the bottle when she caught Marc’s dark gaze on her.

‘Would you like to feed her?’ she found herself asking him. His dark eyes held hers for a brief moment of silent hesitation. ‘Sure, why not?’ he finally answered and, standing up, reached across the table to gather Georgia in his arms.

Once he was seated, Nina handed him the bottle and a soft cloth she used to catch any drips. She leaned back in her own seat and watched as he positioned the teat for Georgia’s searching mouth.

Seeing the way he held the child set off a funny reaction deep inside Nina’s belly, like the sudden unfurling of a tightly wound ball of string. She shifted in her seat and forced herself to look at the menu the waitress had left for their perusal but the words all seemed a blur to her as her thoughts shot off in all directions.

Marc was so at ease handling his niece and she wondered if he had ever wanted children of his own. If so, why was he tying himself to her in a loveless paper marriage?

She knew Italians had a deep sense of family, and the value of children in their lives was high. But surely marrying a stranger, even though she was supposedly the mother of his brother’s child, was going a little too far in terms of familial duty?

It had occurred to her that he might annul the marriage at some point in the future and apply for full custody of Georgia. It was an uncomfortable scenario as she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance once her true identity became known. She would be seen as a scheming, manipulating liar and no magistrate would hand her niece to her, even for access visits, let alone assign her full or partial custody.

Suddenly her earlier gnawing hunger faded and she pushed the menu away with a slump of her shoulders.

‘Not hungry?’ Marc’s eyes met hers across the table.

‘I’ll just have coffee.’ She shifted her gaze from his. ‘Black.’

The waitress came over and took the order from Marc, lingering to hover over the baby who had by now finished her bottle.

‘How old is she?’ the young girl asked. ‘Four months,’ Nina answered.

The waitress smiled as she looked between the baby and Marc. ‘She’s like her daddy, isn’t she?’

It was on the tip of Nina’s tongue to say that Marc wasn’t actually Georgia’s father but something stopped her at the last minute.

‘Yes,’ she said instead, shocked that she hadn’t seen it before now.

Georgia did have a look of Marc about her, seemingly more so as each day passed. Her olive colouring was one thing, so too the dark eyes and silky black hair. But she could also see evidence of herself and Nadia in the rosebud mouth and the slightly retroussé nose and wondered if he could too.

The waitress bustled off to get their coffee and Nina watched as Marc eased Georgia up against his shoulder, gently patting her tiny back as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

‘Have you given any thought to having a child of your own some time in the future?’ she asked before she could stop herself.

Marc’s expression gave little away but Nina was sure she saw a flicker of regret pass through his dark-as-night eyes before he quickly disguised it.

‘No.’ He shifted Georgia to his other shoulder. ‘I had not planned on marrying and doing the whole family-rearing thing.’

His answer intrigued her. She knew there were plenty of sworn-in life members of bachelordom about the place, but somehow Marc didn’t seem the type.

‘Was this your father’s idea for us to marry?’