The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge

But for this man to imply—

No, he hadn’t implied anything—he had clearly stated that he held Simon responsible for his sister’s death.

But that still didn’t explain how Cesare Gambrelli jumped from that accusation to demanding that she marry him!

She straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin as she once again met that angry black gaze. ‘The accident was a tragedy for both our families, Mr Gambrelli.’ She spoke softly. ‘I don’t believe that either of us attaching any sort of blame as to its cause is going to help the situation. It certainly won’t bring my brother or your sister back to us!’

‘Or Marco’s mother,’ Cesare Gambrelli put in.

Robin hesitated. This conversation had become surreal several minutes ago, but now she had definitely lost the plot!

‘Marco…?’ she repeated.

His mouth twisted humourlessly. ‘Something else you have chosen not to acknowledge? Or did you seriously not know?’ he added scathingly, his dark eyes narrowed on her pityingly now.

‘Know what?’ she echoed dazedly.

‘That at the time of her death Carla was the mother of a three-month-old baby boy!’ Cesare declared.

Robin’s knees buckled slightly as nausea washed over her, and she staggered back slightly to drop down onto the sofa.

Carla Gambrelli had been a mother when she’d died so prematurely?

Her death had left a three-month-old baby motherless?

Robin swallowed hard, trying to fight down the nausea. Losing Simon had been traumatic—a tragedy neither she nor her father would ever get over. But Cesare Gambrelli’s loss was just too awful to contemplate…

She looked up sharply. ‘Where is the baby—your nephew—now?’

Cesare Gambrelli looked down his haughty nose at her, with no sign of softening in his expression at her obvious shock at what he had just told her. ‘Marco is with me, of course,’ he replied.

‘But I…What of his father?’ Robin prompted.

‘There is no father.’

Well, of course there was a father. There had to be a father! Even if, as Cesare Gambrelli’s manner indicated, he perhaps refused to acknowledge his son…?

Which, considering Carla’s brother was Cesare Gambrelli, was either very brave or very stupid of him!

‘There is no one but me,’ Cesare Gambrelli informed her tersely. ‘Which is why Marco is now my adopted son. A son who needs a mother,’ he concluded pointedly.

Robin gave a pained frown. Was this the reason? Was Marco the reason this man was demanding that she marry him? So that she could act as replacement mother for Marco, because Cesare believed her brother, Simon, had taken Carla away from him?

It was ridiculous.

Insane.

Cesare Gambrelli couldn’t seriously think she would ever—

He did, she realised, as she looked up into his hard, uncompromising face.

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I really had no idea. But it still doesn’t change the fact that your marriage proposal is a preposterous idea—’

‘It was not a marriage proposal, Robin, but a statement of intent,’ Cesare told her, totally unmoved. ‘You will become my wife as soon as the arrangements can be made.’

‘You can’t force me to marry you, Mr Gambrelli,’ she came back defiantly.

‘I thought we had agreed that you would call me Cesare,’ he reminded her.

‘You decided that!’ Robin corrected. ‘And no amount of bullying on your part is going to make me marry you!’ she added determinedly.

Cesare remained impervious to her claim, seeing the two wings of angry colour in her cheeks as she looked across at him.

‘Is it not?’ Cesare’s voice was velvety soft. ‘Oh, but I think it will, Robin,’ he assured her.

She looked up at him uncertainly, her gaze searching the complete implacability of his expression.

His original plan of retribution on the Ingram family had not involved marriage, Cesare admitted, but since meeting Robin almost a week ago he had decided that this was a much more practical solution. Marco would once again have the mother he was so desperately in need of, rather than the nanny who cared for him now. A mother who, as Cesare’s wife, would also provide him with suitable entertainment.

Entertainment Robin Ingram had not seemed to view as so unpalatable a short time ago…

‘Come, Robin,’ he bit out impatiently. ‘Sharing my bed would not be so…unacceptable, would it?’

Sharing his bed. Robin’s panic-stricken thoughts echoed his words desperately.

Minutes ago she’d had only to look at this man to know she wanted him in a way she could never remember feeling before. But it was a desire that had completely deserted her once he’d told her that he intended marrying her out of misplaced revenge!

She had already escaped one marriage, which had been so disastrous she had no desire ever to repeat the experience. Had spent the last year totally avoiding even dating, let alone becoming seriously involved with anyone, knowing she had earned herself the reputation of being frigid and aloof.

Something Cesare Gambrelli’s overt sexuality didn’t even allow for!

She didn’t need to know any more about him to realise that a marriage between herself and Cesare Gambrelli would be even worse than the disaster of her first marriage!

She gave a firm shake of her head. ‘That question doesn’t even merit an answer—What are you doing?’ she gasped as Cesare Gambrelli reached her side in one forceful stride to pull her to her feet and straight into his arms.

‘Well, if you do not know, Robin, then perhaps I had better show you!’ he came back mockingly, before his head lowered and his mouth claimed hers.

She was too surprised initially either to fight or respond to the sudden onslaught—was aware only of a leaping of her pulse rate, of the way her hands moved up to grasp the broadness of his shoulders in order to stop herself falling, of how strong and muscled they were, as was the rest of his leanly hard body as he pulled her in tight against his arousal.

Robin wanted to resist him. Knew she should resist him. That she should push him away, should once again ask him to leave.

But as he moved that hard arousal sensuously against her she felt the return of that moist heat between her thighs, groaning low in her throat as his tongue parted her lips even farther and plunged hard and hot into her mouth in a rhythm that matched his thighs as they moved so seductively against hers.

Her body felt consumed by liquid fire, every part of her alive and responsive to Cesare’s slightest touch. Her nipples were hard and throbbing as he tore his mouth from hers, to lower his head and capture one of those hard peaks though her thin blouse and bra into the burning heat of his mouth, teeth gently biting even as his tongue moved moistly against that sensitive tip. Robin’s spine arched as she sought a release for the spasms of pleasure between her thighs.

So aroused, so lost in that pleasure was she, that she could only stare up at Cesare dazedly when he suddenly raised his head to look down at her triumphantly.

‘No, Robin,’ he mused. ‘I do not think sharing my bed will be unacceptable to you at all!’