Delucca's Marriage Contract

* * *

Keelin hated that she felt bizarrely excited. She should be steamingly angry. The threat of Gianni washing the spray tan off her body himself had been enough to galvanise her into the bathroom earlier that day, locking herself inside and scowling when she heard his mocking, ‘Later, cara,’ through the door.

A veritable army had then appeared in the apartment when she’d emerged from the shower with skin pink from scrubbing and had proceeded to take her in hand, undoing all of the hard work she’d put in to appear as trashy as possible.

And now she hated to admit that she didn’t look a million miles off what she’d choose to look like, if she didn’t have a war of personal independence on her hands.

She was wearing a strapless dark green dress that made her eyes stand out. Fitted around her breasts, it fell in soft swirls of silk and chiffon from below her bust to the floor where she wore delicate high-heeled sandals.

She was back to her habitual paleness, and felt a little naked now without the copious amounts of make-up and tan. Her hair had been teased and coiffed out of its natural wildness and lay over one shoulder in glossy soft waves, held back on the other side by a long diamond comb.

Make-up was subtle and enhanced her features. Her cheekbones stood out, and her mouth looked even bigger than usual. She wanted to scowl at the reflection in the bathroom mirror as she inspected herself, but in truth she felt a funny catch in her throat at the thought of Gianni seeing her like this, as if she was meeting him for the first time all over again.

‘Keelin?’

Speak of the devil. Her heart thumped hard and she took a deep breath, cursing the fact that she’d allowed herself to get distracted enough not to analyse what had been said earlier and figure out what her next step would be.

She heard Gianni come closer. ‘Keelin, so help me, if you’re not here and ready—’

He appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom en suite and stopped talking, those dark eyes raking her from head to toe. Heat climbed up over Keelin’s chest to her neck and face.

She registered how gorgeous he was in his tuxedo, clean jaw, hair short. Suddenly there was no air; her skin felt tight and hot. Terrified he might see her reaction she moved forward and pushed past him. ‘I am here.’

When she was on the other side of him the hardness of his body registered on her brain with a searing flash of heat. She stalked out into the main living area, desperate to put some space between them, sucking in a deep breath. When she turned around again, Gianni had followed her and was leaning against the door frame, hands in pockets, eyes hooded and unreadable.

Keelin’s hands clutched the bag that went with the dress. She wanted to squirm; no man had ever looked at her so intently.

‘Well, well, well,’ he drawled softly. ‘I knew there was a gem hiding underneath all that artifice.’

Keelin was about to say something waspish but Gianni added, ‘But I had no idea how beautiful that gem would be.’

For a moment she felt stunned. Even though he’d kissed her, somehow this felt more intimate, as if he was stroking his tongue along hers all over again, that hard mouth demanding she give up her softness to him. Demanding she expose all her weaknesses and vulnerabilities.

At a loss as to how to respond, and feeling gauche when she recalled how she’d noticed he hadn’t complimented her the previous evening, Keelin just said, ‘Save your breath for the woman who’ll become your fiancée for real some day. She’ll be far more appreciative.’

Gianni stood away from the door and came towards her. Keelin’s feet were glued to the floor. He stopped far too close and answered, ‘Cara, you’re the only fiancée I’m ever going to have, so you might as well give in to the inevitable—unless you’re willing to walk out that door right now, we will be getting married in two weeks.’

The fact that Keelin couldn’t seem to find the urge to walk away from Gianni now that she had the opportunity was not as annoying as the suspicion that it had less to do with her father’s ultimatum and intransigence and more to do with the fact that something enigmatic in his black gaze held her to the spot.

An hour later Keelin’s feet burned in her high heels. She was in a sleek and sophisticated private suite at the Harrington Hotel surrounded by beautiful and equally sleek people with white besuited waiters moving through the crowd carrying trays of sparkling champagne, and yet all she could see were the women openly lusting after Gianni, and sending her less than friendly glances. She felt like saying to them, Take him! while alternately battling a very curious urge to gouge their eyes out.

He bent close and said by her ear in his deep voice, ‘Your parents are here.’ Instantl

y she tensed all over, an inevitable reaction, her hand tightening on her glass of champagne. The drink she’d not even touched. No point in pretending she liked it any more.

She barely noticed Gianni sending her an assessing sidelong glance as her mother came forward with arms outstretched to envelop Keelin in a stiff hug and a noxious wave of perfume. Keelin couldn’t help tensing even more. She’d learnt long ago that these rare displays of affection were for appearances only, never to be repeated in private.

Her father gave her a kiss on the cheek. Equally awkward. Keelin felt old emotions rise—a mix of anger, disappointment and frustration, and swallowed it down with effort.

Her mother was oblivious, beaming at Gianni and gushing, ‘So pleased to meet you, Mr Delucca. Liam’s told me all about you. You’ll take care of our beloved Keelin, now won’t you?’

He was oozing charm as they shook hands. ‘Call me Gianni, please.’

Beloved Keelin. It had been the wrong moment to take a reflexive sip of her drink; it promptly went down the wrong way and Keelin had a coughing fit, earning a familiar look of irritation from her mother and a hand on her bare upper back from Gianni which was far more disturbing. Keelin wasn’t someone who felt comfortable around tactile people but whenever Gianni touched her she felt the disturbing urge to close her eyes and purr gently.

‘Okay, cara?’

His careless endearment sent shivers through her. She nodded and blinked quickly and croaked, ‘Fine.’