The Innocent Behind the Scandal (The Marchetti Dynasty 2)
She asked, ‘How did you know he would be capable of hitting a young girl?’
Maks’s insides felt like lead. ‘Because I’d seen him hit one of our young maids. And I’d seen him hit our mother when I was much younger, before they divorced.’
‘I’m sorry you experienced that.’
Maks took her hand back and kissed her fingers, relishing their coolness. ‘I think I would have liked your house.’
Zoe smiled, but it was sad. ‘I never saw it again after the crash. It was dealt with by lawyers and the state. They offered to let me go back and get my things, but I couldn’t bear to... Everything was put in storage for me, but I’ve never visited the storage unit.’ She shrugged and looked down. ‘I’m a bit of a coward.’
Maks’s chest felt tight. He tipped up her chin and saw her eyes were like two oceans of green and blue. ‘You’re not a coward, Zoe. Far from it.’
* * *
Zoe looked up at Maks. He should be the hardest person in the world to talk to, but things that she never spoke of to anyone tripped off her tongue with an ease that shocked her.
He threw back the rest of his aperitif and said, ‘Come on, let’s go.’
Go where?
Zoe didn’t even want to ask, not wanting to burst the incredible bubble of being with this man in this beautiful place. She felt like a miser, wanting to hoard every tiny moment.
After turning a dizzying number of corners they emerged into a small quiet square with a large ornate church at one end. Maks was leading her through to another street when she heard it. The sound of singing.
Zoe stopped. She walked over to have a closer look. Posters advertised an opera, due to take place the following evening. The singing was more audible now, coming from inside, and she looked at Maks, who shrugged and followed her into the dark interior.
People were up on a stage in costume, but no make-up. She whispered to Maks, ‘It must be the dress rehearsal. Can we stay a while?’
He nodded. She was about to sit down at the back, but Maks grabbed her hand and led her up a flight of narrow winding stairs. They came out onto a balcony on the upper level that had a view of the whole church and stage.
They were rehearsing one of Zoe’s favourite operas, La Traviata. The music swelled and washed over and through her. She was captivated. But not captivated enough to be oblivious to Maks beside her, his long legs stretched out carelessly.
The opera company stopped for a break. Zoe sighed as the echo of the music lingered in the church walls and rafters. She glanced at Maks, who was looking at her and smiling. She felt wary. ‘What?’
He snaked a hand to the back of her neck and tugged her towards him. ‘You constantly surprise me. They’ll be coming here tomorrow in ballgowns and tuxedoes, but I think you prefer this, don’t you?’
He saw her. Damn him.
She nodded. He pulled her closer and pressed his mouth to hers. The fire ignited instantly. Voraciously. It was only a discreet but forceful cough that made them pull apart.
A priest was standing in the aisle below the balcony, looking up. Zoe went puce. Maks raised a hand to indicate that they were leaving. When they got outside, Zoe broke into a fit of giggles. Maks caught her, and her giggles stopped abruptly when he kissed her again, stealing her sanity. Stealing her soul.
He stopped the kiss. ‘Let’s go back to the hotel.’
Zoe nodded. She couldn’t speak.
He led her down to the canal and they took a gondola. As they entered the Grand Canal from a smaller one the sun was setting behind the huge palazzos and bathing everything in a rosy golden light.
It was so beautiful that Zoe’s breath caught. She lifted her camera, even though she knew that to try and capture it would fail miserably. But she needed to have some record of this moment, even if it would be infinitely inferior. Because she knew it wouldn’t happen again.
When they arrived back at the hotel Maks barely acknowledged the manager who leapt to attention. Zoe shot him an apologetic smile as Maks pulled her into the elevator with indecent haste.
As soon as they got to the suite he closed the door and looked at Zoe. For a charged moment neither one moved. Zoe had no idea who moved first, but she was in Maks’s arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, her mouth on every bit of exposed skin she could find as he walked them into the massive bedroom.
The French doors were open, and the curtains moved gently in the warm evening air, but Zoe was oblivious to everything but the spectacle of Maks’s body being revealed, inch by delicious inch, as he stripped off his clothes until he was naked.
‘Now you...’
He started undoing her shirt, pushing it open, pulling the lace cups of her bra down so he could cup her breasts and push her nipples into pouting peaks, begging for his hot mouth. Zoe clasped his head in her hands as his wicked mouth tended to her sensitive flesh, his hot tongue leaving a trail of fire.