a long time later with her hair piled on top of her head and some damp tendrils hanging about her face. She was wearing one of the hotel’s fluffy white bathrobes. Without her make-up and high heels, she looked young and dainty, her cheeks pink-skinned from her bath. As she moved past him to access her suitcase, Nic noticed she barely came up to his shoulder in her bare feet. Her toenails were painted black. They looked stark against the porcelain white of her skin.
‘What happened to my massage appointment?’ he asked.
She tucked a strand of hair behind one of her small ears without looking up from her open bag. ‘I cancelled it.’
‘You had no right to do that,’ he said. ‘I was looking forward to it.’
She glanced at him as she moved with a bundle of clothes to the wardrobe. ‘I can give you one if you like,’ she said. She hung a skirt and top on the silk-padded hangers. ‘I’m told I’m very good.’
‘I am sure you are,’ Nic said, watching her move back to her bag.
She held up two dresses against her chest. ‘Which one do you think? ‘
Nic had to give himself a mental shake. She was doing it again: sideswiping him with her rapid change of demeanour. One minute the raging virago, the next a little girl playing at dress up. There would be another tantrum soon enough, he thought. ‘The red one,’ he said, striding over to the champagne sitting in the silver ice bucket. He poured himself a glass and sipped from it as he watched her dress.
She did it as if it were a strip show in reverse. She had slipped out of the bathrobe while he had been pouring his drink, but now she was stepping into a pair of black and red lacy French knickers that were gossamer-thin, so thin he could see the waxed clear feminine cleft of her body. His blood pounded all over again, making him uncomfortably stiff. He took another deep draught of champagne but he couldn’t bear to drag his eyes away from her. She picked up a matching push-up bra. Not that she needed any mechanical help in showcasing her breasts. They were beautifully shaped, full and yet pert with rosy-red nipples. She adjusted the creamy globes behind the lace and then shook her head so her hair cascaded down over her back and shoulders.
Nic was fit to explode and he hadn’t even touched her.
‘Aren’t you going to shower and change?’ she said as she moved past him with her make-up bag.
He caught her arm on the way past, his fingers fizzing with the stun-gun effect of her warm flesh under his. He locked his eyes on her sea-glass green ones. ‘How about that massage you promised?’ he said.
She gave him a sultry look from beneath her lashes. ‘Later,’ she said. ‘Dinner first. If you’re a good boy I might give you a rub down when we get home.’
He tightened his hold when she made to pull away. ‘Is this how you get every man to do what you want? To make them beg like starving dogs for your favours? ‘
She tossed her head again, making her hair swing back over her shoulders. ‘You won’t have to beg, Nic, because there will be no favours,’ she said. ‘This is going to be a paper marriage.’
Nic laughed out loud. ‘Oh, come on, Jade. How long do you think that’s going to last? You are a born sybarite.’
She glared at him as she tugged at his hold. ‘I am not going to sleep with you.’
‘Then what was the little tease routine for?’ he asked.
She gave him a haughty look. ‘You can look but you can’t touch,’ she said. ‘That’s the deal.’
Nic dropped her arm. ‘There is something you need to learn about me, Jade,’ he said. ‘I choose my own sexual partners. I do the chasing. And I do not beg. Ever.’
She turned away and sat at the dressing table, opening various pots as she applied moisturiser and make-up. ‘We’ll see,’ she said, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Nic clenched his teeth and strode into the bathroom. We’ll see, indeed, he thought as he turned on the shower full blast.
When Nic came out, Jade was sipping more champagne. She had her face on—the face he was used to seeing: heavy smoky eye-shadow and eyeliner, scarlet lipstick and a brush stroke of bronzing powder to highlight her model-like cheekbones. She was back in another pair of heels, even higher than the previous ones, and she had dangling earrings on that sparkled now and again behind the dark screen of her loose hair. She had a sulky look about her mouth, however, which warned him there might be another scene on its way.
He had thought through his options in the shower.
He would marry her because he didn’t really have a choice, but he would dictate the terms. She thought she had manipulated him into agreeing to it but he wasn’t doing it for her, but for his family.
‘Before we go to dinner I want to lay down some ground rules,’ he said as he reached for a fresh shirt.
She crossed her legs and swung one high-heeled foot up and down in a bored schoolgirl manner. ‘Go on then, tell me what they are and I’ll tell you whether I’ll agree to them or not.’
Nic whipped out a tie from the wardrobe. ‘You will agree to it or I won’t marry you. You’re the one who needs the money more than me, don’t forget.’
She set her mouth in a mulish line, her eyes hardening as she held his. ‘So what are your stupid little rules, then?’
‘I insist that at all times and in all places you will behave with the decorum your position as a Sabbatini wife requires of you,’ he said. ‘You have met both of my sisters-in-law, sì?’
‘Yes, they are very nice,’ she said. ‘I met Bronte briefly at your grandfather’s funeral. I met Maya, Giorgio’s wife, in London. She had taken the time to call on me to show me the baby since I was unable to attend the christening. Matteo is adorable.’
‘Yes, he is,’ Nic said. ‘So why didn’t you come to the christening? ‘
Her eyes stayed determinedly away from his, her tone dismissive. ‘I had another engagement.’
‘And what about Luca and Bronte’s son Marco’s christening?’ he asked. ‘It was only a month later. Did you have another engagement that day too?’
This time she looked at him directly. ‘I always keep myself busy. My social calendar is booked for months ahead.’
Nic felt his top lip curl. He could imagine her shoe-horning in party after party, nightclub after nightclub, and shallow date after shallow date. ‘It was good of you to come to my grandfather’s funeral,’ he said with no intention of it being a compliment. She had obviously known she was going to be included in the will, for why else would she have made the effort? He knew her well enough to know she didn’t do anything for anyone unless she got something out of it for herself. ‘You also came to see him before he died, didn’t you?’
She nodded. ‘It was the least I could do. He had always been so good to me. I was just his godchild. No one takes that role all that seriously these days, but he always looked out for me.’
‘Apart from the will, of course,’ Nic pointed out.
‘Yes, well, he must
