Claiming His Secret Love-Child: The Marciano Love-Child / The Italian Billionaire's Secret Love-Child / The Rich Man's Love-Child. Maggie Cox

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Claiming His Secret Love-Child: The Marciano Love-Child / The Italian Billionaire's Secret Love-Child / The Rich Man's Love-Child - Maggie  Cox

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tonight and prove to him that I’m not interested. I’ll take some sketches and layouts, and keep things formal and businesslike at all times.’

      ‘Yeah…right.’

      ‘What do you mean, “yeah…right”?’

      Roxanne didn’t answer, but her expression was communication enough.

      ‘You don’t think I can do it, do you?’ Scarlett said.

      ‘I think you’re in very great danger of getting hurt all over again,’ Roxanne said. ‘History has a habit of re-marking its territory.’

      ‘Repeating itself,’ Scarlett corrected. Roxanne was always mixing her metaphors. ‘History has a habit of repeating itself, not re-marking its territory.’

      ‘It’s kind of the same thing, though, isn’t it?’ Roxanne said.

      Scarlett was glad the front door of the studio was opened by a client at that point, so she didn’t have to answer.

      CHAPTER SIX

      MATTHEW WAS already sound asleep by the time Roxanne arrived, so Scarlett offered her a drink and sat down to chat to her while she waited for the car Alessandro was sending for her to arrive.

      At ten minutes to the hour the doorbell rang, but instead of seeing a chauffeur standing there Scarlett came face to face with the tall, commanding figure of Alessandro himself. ‘Oh…It’s you.’

      He cocked one dark brow at her. ‘You were expecting someone else?’

      ‘No, but you said you’d send a car for me. I thought it would be a limo driver or…or something.’

      ‘I was not prepared to take the risk that you would refuse to be transported to my house by my driver, or indeed not turn up at all.’

      She glowered at him. ‘I’m not that much of a coward.’

      Alessandro cast his gaze around the small flat, and encountered Roxanne sitting on the sofa with a bemused expression on her face. ‘Good evening, Miss Hartley,’ he said. ‘Are you babysitting for Scarlett?’

      ‘Yes, but don’t hurry back,’ she said. ‘I’ve brought a good book, and there’s a late-night movie on the TV I’ve been dying to see.’

      Scarlett sent her a ‘what do you think you’re doing?’ glare, but Roxanne deflected it by sending a beaming smile in Alessandro’s direction.

      ‘That is indeed very kind of you, but I will not keep Scarlett out too long,’ he said. ‘I have an early flight to catch in the morning.’

      ‘Milan?’ Scarlett couldn’t quite remove the trace of hopefulness from her voice.

      His eyes collided with hers. ‘Melbourne, actually.’

      ‘Another hotel makeover?’

      ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But I will make some time for pleasure as well.’

      Scarlett wished she hadn’t asked. She followed him out to his car with her stomach churning with jealousy all over again, imagining him with yet another glamorous starlet hanging off his arm. She sat stiffly and silently in the passenger seat as he drove the short distance to the exclusive suburb of Double Bay, but her eyes couldn’t help but widen when he turned the powerful car into a driveway she was all too familiar with.

      She swung her gaze to look at him. ‘You knew I redecorated this property, didn’t you?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes. I like what you have done to the place. That was one of the reasons I thought I would use you for the Arlington makeover.’

      Scarlett didn’t give him time to come around to her door, but leapt out clutching her portfolio to her chest like a shield. Her brow was furrowed as she followed him into the house, her thoughts going off in all directions like a box of out-of-control fireworks.

      ‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked as he led her into the huge living area she had designed with meticulous attention. ‘I have white wine, champagne, and all the usual aperitifs.’

      ‘White wine, thank you…’ she said, still trying to get her head around things.

      She had spent a lot of time on this house; the makeover had been total, and she had felt so thrilled with the results. It had gone from being a large but tired 1930’s house to a luxury mansion with every modern fixture and appliance. The kitchen and walk-in pantry were huge, the living area twice the size of her flat. Each of the six bedrooms had an en suite done in Italian marble, and the main bathroom was second to none in terms of opulence. It had been one of the biggest projects she had ever done, and the payment she had received had helped her and Roxanne move out of the cramped office they had rented in the outer suburbs to their current studio in trendy, upmarket Woollahra.

      Alessandro walked to where she was standing, and handed her a glass of white wine as he raised his glass in a toast. ‘To a successful completion of our contract,’ he said.

      A little hammer of suspicion was tapping away inside her head as she held his inscrutable look. ‘What’s going on, Alessandro?’ she asked.

      ‘We are having a drink, are we not?’

      ‘I mean about you happening to be the owner of this house,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t just a coincidence, was it?’

      He gave her one of his enigmatic smiles. ‘I had one of my employees oversee the work. He spoke very highly of your professionalism and meticulous attention to detail.’

      ‘That would be Mr Rossi, wouldn’t it?’ she asked, her mouth pulled tight. ‘So, he was acting for you.’

      ‘I trusted him to see that the house was brought to a satisfactory standard.’

      Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. ‘I hope you’re happy with what I’ve done.’

      His eyes glinted. ‘Very. The master bedroom in particular is pure sensual indulgence. I can see your touch everywhere.’

      Scarlett could feel a blush rising from the soles of her feet to pool in her cheeks. ‘I only did what I was asked to do,’ she said, with a white-tipped set to her mouth.

      ‘Yes, but you did it with your own personal flair,’ he said. ‘It is like making love, no? You have moves and touches no one else can even imitate.’

      She gripped her glass even tighter, trying not to be pulled into his force field. She could feel the magnetism of his presence: the way his eyes held hers, the way his too-close body radiated its warmth and very male scent, so that her nostrils flared of their own volition to take more of him in.

      He put his wine glass down and stepped closer, tipping up her chin with a lazy finger. ‘Just like the properties you have designed, you have left your indelible mark on me, Scarlett,’ he said softly. ‘No one has ever been able to erase it.’

      Scarlett could feel herself drowning in the deep green and brown of his eyes, her whole body on high alert. The blood rushed through her veins, her skin prickled, her breasts

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