The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

He ran a lazy hand down the length of her arm. She was wearing a cashmere-blend cardigan over her uniform but still every nerve stood up and took notice, especially when he encountered her hand. His fingers closed around it and then he brought it up to his mouth. Alice watched in a state of mesmerisation when his lips brushed against the backs of her knuckles, his eyes holding hers in a lock that made something fall off a high shelf inside her stomach. The scrape of his stubble sent a shockwave of lust straight between her thighs. The clean sharp citrus scent of his aftershave teased her senses until she felt slightly drunk. She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth—the shape of it was pure male perfection. Strong and firm, and yet with a sensual curve that could unravel her self-control in a hummingbird’s heartbeat.

‘Are you free this evening?’ he said. ‘I would like to bring you dinner.’

Alice could have done with a bit of that self-control right about now. She knew saying yes would be saying yes to other things besides dinner. How long would she be able to resist that mouth? Those hands? That body? So far he hadn’t kissed her. So far. But how long before he did? ‘Yes, I’m free.’ Sucker.

A smile lifted the edges of his mouth and he released her hand. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

* * *

Cristiano walked back to his hotel after he left Alice at her salon. His mind ran back over their conversation. In the past she had told him a bit about her background but he hadn’t realised—or been astute enough back then—to read between the lines. He had been quietly envious of her having both parents still living so hadn’t been able to see how complicated her relationship was with both of her parents. Her mother sounded like a petulant child, and her father asking Alice for money now he was back in her life after years of no contact was nothing short of scandalous.

But one thing he did know was that kids—no matter how difficult they were—loved their parents. It was a fact of nature. Bonds were created in childhood and it took a lot to destroy them.

Alice had been adamant about not marrying. She had voiced her opinions on the subject volubly. Heatedly. Stridently. He had—naively, perhaps—thought she was only saying it because she hadn’t wanted to come across as a gold-digger. He was well aware of how his wealth made him an attractive prospect for a woman who was looking for security. That was another fact of nature. Women had good reason to want to connect with a man who could provide for her once it came time to have children.

But Alice insisted she didn’t want children. That was another thing he didn’t take all that seriously back then. What young woman of twenty-one wanted children at that stage of their lives? He’d been confident—too confident—she would change her mind once they were married.

Cristiano had been too proud to go after her when she’d rejected his proposal. Proud and angry. Bitterly, blindingly angry. He’d expected her to come crawling back. That was another thing he’d been far too confident about. He’d thought she’d go home and think about what she was throwing away and call him and say she’d changed her mind. But the only thing she’d changed was her phone number.

That was the nail that finally closed the lid on his hopes.

But now he wondered what was really behind Alice’s adamant stance on marriage. Lots of kids of divorced parents went on to have successful marriages themselves. Was it because she was a staunchly independent career woman? Having a career didn’t mean you had to give up everything else. Did she still hold those views or had she shifted some ground over the passage of time?

Her friendly little employee gave the impression Alice was a big fan of weddings. Word on the street was she was the go-to girl for bridal make-up. Did that mean she secretly dreamed of a white wedding with all the trimmings? But she hadn’t dated anyone seriously in years. That was another thing he’d found out from her loquacious little workmate. Alice virtually lived and breathed work. She had no social life to speak of and always made excuses when friends tried to hook her up with potential dates.

He didn’t want to admit how pleased he was about that. If he hadn’t been happy for the last seven years then why the hell should she be? But then, she was a tetchy little thing. Not many men would put up with her quick temper and acid tongue. But behind that prickly exterior was a warm-hearted person. Some of the time.

Funny, but her sharp tongue had been one of the things he’d most admired about her back then. The fact she didn’t kowtow to him because he was super rich. Losing his parents so young had made everyone—even his grandparents at times—tiptoe around him. No one ever said no to him or argued the point with him. He was so used to getting his own way he hadn’t factored in anyone else’s opinion on things until he’d met Alice. She never ran away from an argument or a difference of view. She didn’t cave in to please him. She stood her ground and wouldn’t budge if she believed she was in the right.

But what if she had changed? What if those rigidly held opinions on marriage and children had softened?

Too bad.

Cristiano wasn’t going down that road again. Family life was for people who could handle the risk of losing it in the blink of an eye. He had already lost one family. He wasn’t going to sign up for a second.

His grandmother’s machinations meant he had no choice but to jump through the hoops like an obedient circus dog, but that was as far as it would go. He had considered a register office ceremony but decided if he was going to get married then it would be the old-fashioned way. Besides, his nonna would come back to haunt him if he didn’t repeat those wedding vows in front of a priest.

But you don’t love Alice now.

Cristiano ignored the prod of his conscience. God would have to forgive him for borrowing His house of worship as a means to an end. Over the years he had downgraded his feelings. Told himself he hadn’t loved Alice at all. It was too confronting, too painful to admit he had loved her and lost her. Instead he filed it away as nothing but a lust fest. A mad, once-in-a-lifetime passion that had taken him over like a raging fever. Consuming rational thought. Sideswiping common sense.

He was no longer that idealistic young man blinded by lust. He was older, wiser, harder. He could control his passion. He could control his desire. He could control his emotions.

A quiet church wedding with limited guests was the only way to go. There would be no chance of Alice misreading his motivations if he kept things clean and simple. And less complicated when it came time to end it.

For end it he would.

CHAPTER FIVE

ALICE TOLD HERSELF there was no reason she should be cleaning her house like someone with a serious case of obsessive-compulsive disorder but she wasn’t going to have Cristiano counting the dust bunnies hiding under the sofa. She had never been able to justify employing someone to clean because she was hardly at home to make much of a mess.

Once she’d sorted the house, she got working on herself. That saying about plumbers with leaky taps equally applied to beauticians. When was the last time she’d waxed her legs? And as for a bikini wax...? It was so overgrown her ‘lady land’ looked as if Sleeping Beauty had taken up residence.

Well, come to think of it, maybe she had.

It had been about a hundred years since there had been any activity down there.

Alice reached for her perfume and spritzed her wrists and neck. This was probably a good time to ask herself why she was going to all this trouble.