Her Sicilian Arrangement (11 page)

Meagan folded her arms in vexation mode and her eyes pointed
out blankly of what her thoughts were constructing: Why did I say
that? Stupid…stupid…stupid!! She then saw Fabio reach outside the
vehicle and then punched in a six-digit code that, when fully
entered, caused the gates to automatically slide open. He then
drove the SUV inside and then the gates closed behind them. Meagan
could not help staring at the beautiful yard that she swore came
from a princess book. The drive way was lined on both sides by
fluffy dwarfed palm trees where it ended in a water fountain
directly in the centre of the pavement before the house.

The
house was a whole other story. She had though that none could be
compared to his parents’ but his finally grabbed her eyes
attention; she could not help but stare. It was a little smaller,
yes, but it was much more unique in European architecture than any
she had seen in any magazine at all. The entire building was
painted in aquamarine with the pillars in attractively sparkling
peach-coloured paint. It was gorgeous…and she loved it. Meagan
hadn’t even known when Marco had left her side and she stepped out
of the vehicle slowly. She then saw him whisper something to Fabio,
who nodded, and then grabbed their luggage as the strange man
re-embarked the vehicle and drove away.

“
What did you say to him?” she asked as soon as he walked up to
her.

Marco walked up to the porch, with her alongside him, and then
spun a key in the lock of his large white door and pushed it open.
“I told him that I will no longer need his driving services while
we are here. Wherever you or I have to go, I will drive
us.”

She
frowned. “And risk the paparazzi or the Media following you?” she
said, and stepped inside behind him. “I’m even surprised that they
weren’t scattered across in front of your gate!”

“
No
worries…last evening; I asked Fabio and a few others of my security
staff to mislead the Media into the city. Right now, they believe I
am staying at your hotel in Palermo.”

“
It’ll only be a matter of time before they catch
on.”

“
And
I will be ready regardless,” he chuckled. “Now…I would very much
like to persist that conversation we were having a few minutes ago.
I remember you saying specifically that you are not a fan of pain.
Would you care to elaborate on that?”

“What is there to explain?” she muttered irritably and looking
around at the expensively designed interior of the house. “I don’t
like pain…
any
pain.”

Marco studied her for a moment and then smiled. He felt as if
he could see right through her. She had built such a hard shell,
protecting her from anyone that came near yet still, he could see
into her vulnerable soul. Was her tough-shell act meant as a
façade? He was dying to find out because the woman standing before
him was like a walking confidence-ATM that seemed to know all there
was to know about everything but still she blushed desperately like
a virgin whenever he looked at or touched her.

“Tell me, Meagan. Do you enjoy sexual intercourse?” Her eyes
widened immediately and she bit her lips harshly. Not only was the
question awfully personal but she had only absolutely no idea how
she was going to respond to it. Was she to admit that she was
inexperienced in every sense of the word? No, that would make her
seem weak! Or was she to lie and just pretend that she was just as
knowledgeable as they come? Yes, that seemed like the best
option!

“
Sex
is not all that,” she decided to say. “It is only pleasurable for
men but painful for us women.”

“
You
have never found pleasure from making love?” he exclaimed, as if
she was talking some sort of alien language. Marco could not
believe what he was hearing. All he could think about was what led
him to wonder about the man who had caused such a horrid opinion to
transform her view on such a beautiful act.

“
No…like I said, pain isn’t something I am fond of.”

“
But
you do have to experience the pain before you can get to the most
enjoyable part, no? I believe the men you have been with must have
been some abominable buffoons who know nothing about pleasing a
woman.”

Meagan turned to look at him and frowned. “You—you don’t know
anything about the men I have been with it! I don’t even know why
we are having this conversation anyway…sex is just not something I
enjoy…full stop!”

Marco stared at and approached her. He saw her step back as if
she was trying to find some way to escape the erotic lesson she
knew he was about to give her. He had no problem with lecturing her
through it—but her participation would be required—and he chuckled
to himself the thought of her naked body hot and wet beneath his,
engulfed his mind.

“Perhaps I should show you,” he remarked, holding her gently
by the wrist. She stared wide-eyed up at him and squealed something
that he could not decipher. “Sex does not mean I have to penetrate
you,
mia
tesora
. That is the
part you find most unpleasant, yes? There are so many ways that a
man can pleasure a woman.”

“
I—I
would rather not get into that, if you don’t mind,” she snapped and
pulled her hand away, starting to walk away but her gripped her
again even tighter, pulling her up to him. She gasped frantically
as he crushed her breasts against the solid walls of his chest and
his slightly aroused manhood digging into her belly.

“
How
long ago has it been? Since you have been made love to, I
mean?”

Meagan stuttered for a while and then forced out, “The night
before I arrived here! For your information, I have a perfectly
healthy sex life. I just don’t find the act fun.”

“
Do
you know, Meagan Summers, I believe I cannot accept that as
true?”

“
Well, you might as well!” she flung at him and this time
succeeding at fleeing from his hold. “And I believe that this is
the end of our conversazione. And yes, I do know what
‘conversation’ is in Italian!”

Yes,
she did. She saw the word quite too often on billboards and heard
it over while he had been speaking on the phone to not ask what it
meant. Marco Mussolini was trying to drive her insane and she was
not going to put up with it. She was not like the women he had
probably been used to. She was hardworking and independent and
needed no man’s overshadowing authority. He was the type who sought
after to dictate over his women and she absolutely did not want
that in her life…even if it was all a sham. She was acting as his
fiancée not to enjoy the normal intimacies that accompanied it but
to get the one thing that he was batting around the bush for—and
what she had to have—; and that was her story on him. But even if
it turned out to be that he was only tricking her, she would still
have a story at the end of it all. She was in fact in his territory
therefore she had access to his private life that would make an
equally great story as his drug smuggling accusation.

Marco laughed at her strike out and then looked at her fondly.
She was absolutely the type of woman he needed in his life. She was
no doormat and she fit bill of one he knew would do very well as a
mother and wife. He just knew it! Whether or not she was sure that
she loved children or whatever, he intended on sinking it in. Most
women did not shy away from him or dismiss him charm like she did;
they normally had greeted him with open arms. Oh, he liked this
attitude of Meagan Summers…he liked it a lot! “For now…,” he
muttered. “For now…Would you like to see the room that you will be
staying in?”

Meagan sighed and then gave him a half nod.
“
Okk—ay
.”

He
then extended his arm in a slow wave indicating her to go ahead of
him. She hesitated a while before she proceeded up the long white
carpeted staircase. She held on to the sleek golden railing as she
climbed up the stairs and walked very cautiously because she knew
that Marco Mussolini would probably be enjoying his front row view
of her backside. She bit her lip and took slow deep breaths hoping
that her out-of-nowhere shyness would not cause her to somehow miss
a step and end up falling. As soon as she was at the top of the
staircase, she stepped out unto the smooth pathway ending in a line
of doors descending down a hall.

“
This one is mine,” he muttered, pointing at the fourth door on
the right and then one right next to it. “And this one is yours. I
want your room right next to mine.”

“
And
why is that?” she questioned, about to get angry all over
again.

“To
keep an eye on you, of course.
Is that a problem?”

“
Whatever…”

“
Good. Yours have an adjoining bathroom,” he continued and
pushed open the door, revealing her room. She looked around and
first noticed the king-sized bed which looked so much more
comfortable than hers back in New York. The entire room had
everything she needed and she shrugged.

“
This seems alright.”

“Alright
? Just
that?” he questioned, his eyes curious. They were interrogating as
if she had asked him for a room in the first place. She could have
done just fine on a sofa.

“
Okay—Okay, it is very nice. I like it.” And the frown was
still on her face.

She
then heard him murmur something in Italian and he turned to her,
looking oddly self-satisfied. “Well, I wasn’t trying to impress you
if that is what you are thinking.”

“
Yes, you were,” she replied and then stepped further inside
the room.

“
You
are right…I was and it looks like I succeeded,” he smirked. “Are
you always this direct?”

“
Yes. And trust me, you are anything but indirect.”

“
Then we have something in common, yes?”

“
Sadly…yes.”

Marco chuckled and turned on his heel to leave the room. “I
shall go prepare our elevenses…what you would refer probably to as
brunch.”

“
You
prepare your own meals?” she asked, skeptically.

Marco raised an eyebrow at her. “Of course, I do. I am
Sicilian…most of us do know how to cook from a tender
age.”

And
he left the room in an instant, leaving her to stare after him.
Meagan sighed and dropped herself down on the bed as she searched
the ceiling for the answer of the questions which were now storming
through her head. Why all of a sudden was this man trying so hard
to change the way she felt about him? A few days ago, she did not
even intend on talking to him privately much less to be in his home
acting as his soon-to-be. Things were not going according to
plan…so was she to flee from his presence as soon as she got the
chance or stay—hoping to get the story—and probably live the
fantasy she had imagined so many times? It was a couple of options
that had surfaced from out of nowhere and she did not know which
one to choose. She might as well just wait for the right one to
choose her instead. And whatever that one might be, she hoped that
at the need of it all, she would be left standing with a smile on
her face.

CHAPTER 8

“
Do
you think that the person trying to sabotage you lives in Libya?”
she asked as soon as he entered the room.

His
expensive intense cologne engulfed the air and she blinked twice as
she looked up at him. She had been sitting at his desk for two
days, trying to contact her Facebook friend who had once helped her
with discovering Marco Mussolini’s affairs. But she had received no
reply and she was beginning to wonder if something was wrong. She
then saw him brush something off his white long-sleeved cotton
shirt, with the front half-way buttoned revealing a light trace of
chest hair, and then pushed his hands in the pockets of his black
loop less trousers. She could not ever imagine seeing anyone pull
off that sexy and mysterious look better than he did. She had been
through his entire home and just understood how the rich enjoyed
their…richness. Eight bedrooms, four bathrooms, a beautiful
kitchen, exquisite living and dining rooms, a sitting room which he
had explained as where he and his guests would converse, his
office, a gym, laundry room, a wine cellar, a large garage sporting
his luxurious vehicles, and, of course—she could not forget—an
indoor pool. What could anybody else ask for?

“
Libya?” he repeated. “I haven’t the slightest clue of who that
could be.”

“
Are
you sure? I mean, how did it really end between you two? Your
ex-fiancée?”

Marco sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Her name was
Aimee…I had made a very silly mistake of sleeping with her on one
of my journeys there. She had the exotic type of beauty to seduce a
lot of men, including me. About a month later when I returned, she
told me that she was pregnant and I believed her. I didn’t know
what to do, so I decided to marry her.”

“
Even though you didn’t love her?” she asked, he eyes
ridiculing him.

“
Yes. At that time, I believed her to death and it is not in my
nature to deprive my child or my child’s mother the luxury I knew I
could provide.”

“
Okay,” she responded, glancing at the screen and then back up
at him. Was this man so very righteous in character? Or was it an
addition to their sham? “How did you meet her?”