The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

‘That’s quite a change from the man seven years ago who couldn’t wait to start a family.’

‘I have different goals now.’

‘What did your grandmother think about that?’

Cristiano’s expression turned rueful. ‘She wasn’t happy about it. She only had my father and would’ve loved more children but it never happened. She had a stillbirth before my father and numerous miscarriages after.’ He let out a long slow breath and continued. ‘She adored my mother. She treated her as if she were her own daughter. There was none of that mother-in-law angst everyone talks about. My mother loved Nonna as much if not more than her own mother. Family was everything to Nonna.’

Alice had seen that love of family first hand when she’d met Volante Marchetti. Even though the old woman had not long ago lost her husband Enzo, she had been nothing but warm and loving and welcoming towards Alice. And when it came to Cristiano, well, Alice had felt slightly envious to see the depth of love the old woman had for him. There were parents who didn’t love their children more than Volante had loved her grandson. ‘Why do you think she wanted you to marry me? Surely she must’ve known it was the last thing either of us would want?’

‘I’m not sure...’ He dragged a hand down his face, the sound of his palm scraping against his stubbly jaw loud in the silence. ‘No, that’s not quite true. She was unhappy with how I was living my life. She was quite vocal about it towards the end. She wanted the best for me, and, in her mind, didn’t think I was getting it.’

Alice gave a soft little snort. ‘I hardly think I’m the best thing that’s ever come into your life.’

Cristiano’s gaze met hers for a long beat of silence. ‘Nonna would disagree.’

‘That’s very kind of her, but I’m—’

‘It’s fine, Alice,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to hold you to our agreement longer than necessary. I’m only allowing it to go this far because I can’t allow those shares to get into my cousin Rocco’s hands. I’m not going to watch everything my parents worked so hard for go down the mouth of a poker machine or on a gaming table.’

Alice frowned. ‘Didn’t your grandmother know about his gambling tendencies?’

He shook his head, his look grim. ‘I made the decision not to tell her. Stupid, I know now in hindsight. But she was so ill and frail and I didn’t want to send her to her grave with that worry on top of everything else. She changed her will a week or two after her diagnosis.’

‘Would you have tried to stop her if you’d known at the time what she planned to do?’

He seemed to consider it for a moment. ‘I’m not sure... Yes, no, maybe. It was what she wanted so what right did I have to try and change her mind? She wasn’t suffering from dementia or any mental impairment brought on by her illness. She had a right to compose a will that reflected her dying wishes, and yet... I wish I’d warned her about Rocco, but, to be honest, I’m not sure I would have even if I’d known what she planned to do. She adored him. He’s her late sister’s only child and her godson. It would have broken her heart to know he wasn’t the golden boy she believed him to be.’

Alice shifted her mouth from side to side, thinking about Volante Marchetti with her razor-sharp mind and intelligent gaze. Not much would have escaped that wise old bird’s eye. ‘What if she did know?’

Cristiano looked at her blankly. ‘Know what? About Rocco?’

‘Yes. Maybe she knew you would do anything to save those shares from being frittered away,’ Alice sa

id. ‘Anything, as in marrying your enemy.’

He gave her a sideways smile and glided a hand down the length of her bare arm, making her skin lift in a veil of goose bumps. ‘Is that what we are? Enemies?’

Alice put her hand to his face, sliding it down the raspy skin of his cheek. ‘Well, you could say we are, except now we’re making love not war.’

He gathered her close, locking his hips against hers, stirring her senses into overdrive with the heated probe of his body. ‘I thought you were going to take a shower?’

She moved against him, her inner core leaping in excitement to find him hard as stone. ‘I was. Want to join me?’

He unwrapped her from the throw, his eyes going to her breasts. He bent his head and covered one tightly budded nipple with his mouth, drawing on the puckered flesh until she was restless with clawing need. She worked on his trousers, unzipping them with more haste than finesse. His mouth came down on hers in a scorching kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a tango of lust that made her blood all but sizzle in her veins. She could feel the swell of her most intimate flesh, the dragging sensation of need that was part pain, part pleasure. His hands gripped her by the hips, holding her to the pulsing heat of his body, his chest crushed against her breasts, the masculine hair tickling and teasing her sensitised skin.

Cristiano took her by the hand and led her to the en suite. He prepared himself with a condom while he waited for the shower to get to the right temperature, and then stepped in with her. The water cascaded over their bodies, heightening Alice’s senses as his hands skimmed her wet, naked flesh. She pressed her lips to his chest, kissing her way down to his navel, circling her tongue and then bending down in front of him so she could take him in her mouth. She had never pleasured another partner this way. Had never wanted to. Had made excuses not to. The thought of doing it with someone else was almost repugnant. But with Cristiano it felt like a sacred act, one that was mutually pleasurable, for she loved feeling the potent strength of him against her lips and tongue. She loved hearing his groans, and witnessing his knees buckle when she drew on him. She loved feeling his hands gripping her head to anchor himself against the tumultuous throb of release.

But this time he wouldn’t let her take him over the edge. He pulled away from her and brought her back to her feet. Then he bent down so he was between her parted thighs, his mouth working its magic on her feminine folds. He knew exactly what pressure and what speed to trigger the explosion. It rocked through her body like a torpedo, sending ripples of delight through every cell until her thighs tingled as if they were being trickled with fine sand.

Alice tugged him by the hair to get him to stand up, pressing her mouth to his and tasting her own essence on his lips and tongue. He moved from her mouth down to her neck, nudging and nuzzling her while he positioned himself. She guided him with her hand, lifting one leg so it was balanced on his hip, a gasp puffing out of her lips when he surged into her with his own raw groan.

The water falling over them added another sensory delight, the rocking speed of his thrusts ramping up her need until she was on the knife-edge, teetering there but unable to go any further. Cristiano pulled out and, with a sexy glint in his eyes, turned her so that her back was to him. Alice planted her hands on the marble wall of the shower, standing on tiptoes so he could gain the access he wanted.

There was something about this position that had an element of wickedness about it. A primitive wickedness that was as thrilling as it was slightly shocking. He moved between her buttocks, the hot glide of his engorged flesh tantalising her senses until she was breathing hard in excitement. He surged into her wetness, the different angle catching her right where she needed it, the fast-moving friction of his urgent thrusts triggering an orgasm so powerful she felt it move through her like a high-speed missile. The whirlpool of pleasure stole every conscious thought, leaving her spinning in a swirling black sea of magic.

Cristiano gave three more powerful thrusts, his legs quaking against hers, his breathing rough and uneven next to her ear. Alice waited for him to collect himself before she turned in his arms, locking her arms around his neck and pressing a lingering kiss to his mouth. His hands settled on her hips, his mouth moving against hers with slow, heart-tripping deliberation.

After a long moment, he lifted his head, his gaze dark, rich and gleaming with sexual satiation. ‘Like old times, sì?’