Her Sicilian Arrangement (5 page)

She
then saw him reach to press a button and then felt the vehicle
moving.

“What—what is going on?” she muttered, her eyes flying open
with suspicion. “What are you doing?” Her eyes then reached for the
handle but the door would not open. “
Let me out
! I thought you said that we were just going to
talk!”

“We
are going to talk,
Signora.
In
the privacy of my choice, if you don’t mind.”

“
Of
course, I mind!” she cackled like a mad peacock. “Unlike you, I
have to work my butt off for a living.”

“Ahh
…so, you
think I don’t work hard? Tell me more,” he muttered with a small
chuckle.

“Do
you think this is funny? This—this is
kidnapping
!”

“Kidnapping? You came into the car off your own will,
mia
tesora
.”

“
That’s because you tricked me! And don’t call me—whatever you
just said!”

“Mia
tesora
?” he
repeated, questioningly.

“
Yes. That!”

He
shrugged and then leant back in his seat. “How do you know that I
was engaged?”

“
None of your business. I have my ways.”

“
What are you?” he asked with his accent thick and
deep.

She
frowned
irritably.
“I’m a journalist.”

“Are
you a spy? Do you work for—what is it you
Americanos
call it? Ah… the Secret Service?
CIA?”

“
What? I told you, I am a journalist. I work for the New York’s
Finest magazine.”

“Hmmm,” he murmured and stared deep into her green eyes. “Were
you trying to unravel me in that meeting,
mia tesora
?”

“
Unravel?” she laughed. “I am simply doing my job, Mr.
Mussolini.”

“Per
favore
, call me by
the name my mother gave me; it is Marco.”

“
Marco…,” she uttered as if it pained her to. “What do you
want?”

He
sat upright and then gave her a look that took the life out of her
legs. “You see, I am hoping that you will help me find that out
very soon.” Her cheeks burnt hotly as his eyes lingered along her
neckline and then her lips. “Do you have
un amante
? A lover? I see no wedding ring.”

“
Yes,” she answered almost too quickly that he looked at her
curiously.

“Why
do you lie,
mia
tesora
?”

“
I
am not lying,” she said and folded her arms above her neat small
breasts.

“Sí
, you are,”
he replied. “I can see it in your eyes…you look like a woman who
hasn’t been loved by a man in a very long time.” Her eyes widened
as she flung all sorts of profanities at him that made his eyes
widen and then his jaw clench in anger. “
Dio mio!
That is no way for a lady to speak!”

She
pouted indignantly at him and her chest rose and fell rapidly as
her breathing deepened. “Well, I never said I was a
lady.”

“
That tongue of yours needs to be soothed,” he said.

She
frowned and then looked through the window. “The rental car!” she
exclaimed and slapped her forehead.

“
Is
being taken care of,” he finished.

“
So,
you planned this?”

“
Shortly after you nearly humiliated me, yes,” he responded. “I
find you rather intriguing, Meagan.” He pronounced her name so
sweetly that it gave a romantic ring to it. She wouldn’t mind
having him say it over and over again. But she wouldn’t let him
know that.

“
Too
bad I don’t feel the same way,” she lied. “You’re a
drug-smuggler.”

“
I
am not!” he struck out at her. “I have no need to launder drugs.”
She sighed and looked at him. His eyes burnt through hers. “Have an
early lunch with me.”

“
I
can’t. I have a job to do.”

He
sunk back in his seat, keeping his eyes locked on hers. “You don’t
have much of a choice,
mia tesora
.”

“
Excuse me?” she curled her top lip into a sneer, saying. “What
is that supposed to mean?”

He
winked at her with a dark mysterious smile that made her notice the
small round mole at the left corner of mouth. He had a very
tempting mouth, she had to admit, but there was no way that she was
going to allow him to charm her out of her wit. She was a clever
individual and she intended on holding her grounds. She pulled down
her skirt hoping that it would magically meet her knees but it
wouldn’t and she met his eyes as they travelled down her body to
her thighs.

“Tua
gonna
…your skirt is
just fine,” he remarked as she returned a disgusted glance that
made him laugh. “Your facial expressions…they are—they are very
amusing!”

She
rolled her eyes at him again and then stared through the tinted
windows. She frowned as she saw the ocean to her left and then saw
the limousine pull into a lot that seemed to belong to a harbour.
She stretched up and then glared as she spotted a huge yacht at the
dock and then averted her wide-eyed gaze to him. “What is going
on?”

“
I
believe you and I will be going on a little water expedition,” he
said.

“
I
am not going anywhere with you or…are you deaf?”

Suddenly the car came to a halt and Marco opened the door and
stepped out into the warm sunlight. She saw him conversing a while
with his bodyguards and then the stood at a distance, where the
black SUV was parked. She then saw him step up to the car and then
and in a moment, she saw him peering inside at her. “Let’s go. My
yacht is ready to leave.”

“
I
told you…I’m not going with you.” She heard him sigh, saw him look
away and then back at her.

“Don’t let me have to pull you out,
Signora
Summers.”

She
pouted at him and then after a long moment, she stepped out the
car, hearing the posse of guards laughing as if they were
celebrating.

“
What is their problem?”

“They seem to agree that you are quite a stubborn one!” Marco
chuckled.

“
Well, you can tell your bodyguards to kiss my ass!” she
snapped, pointing a finger at him. She glared up at him and noticed
just how tall he really was. The top of her head only reached his
shoulder and she groaned lowly in her throat.

“That
is
a nice
ass,” he responded, sucking in a sharp breath that made her shiver
slightly. “Come on…” He started to walk off but she remained where
she was, still pouting angrily, and when he realized, he turned
around and cocked his head at her. He then stepped up to her and
brushed a thin lock of his hair from his eye. He looked at his
watch and then back at her. “Why make this hard,
Meagan?”

She
glanced at his limousine, at the highway and then attempted to run
off when he grabbed her by the arm. “Let me go--!” she yelled,
slamming the side of her fist against his firm grip but he didn’t
budge. He then pulled her up in his arms and flung her over his
right shoulder, holding her thighs firmly. “This is—release me at
once!” she yelped, delivering several blows to his back and side.
“I am going to make you pay for this!”

Marco strode towards the dock and wove amusingly at the men
who were chuckling over his situation. He tried as hard as he could
to ignore the hard punches that she was throwing to his back but
that last one made him wince in pain. He released a heavy sigh and
then embarked the steps that ascended to the deck the
yacht.

“Ciao
,
Allejandro!” he greeted the pilot, still keeping the angry woman
tight in his grip.

“Pronto, Signor
?”

“Sí,
devo andare
!”

“Non
fa niente
.”

In a
moment, Meagan stopped hitting him and he smiled to himself. The
pilot walked away and then pulled up the steps after which he was
out of sight for a few minutes until they felt the yacht moving. It
wasn’t until they had reached at least a few meters out that Marco
released her.

She
heaved angrily and she ran her hands through her now messy hair.
“Are you done fighting?” he asked, folding his arms and staring at
her.

She
shook her head, looked away and squeezed a way some tears. “I have
to get back to the hotel so that I can do my job,” she said in a
calm tone.

“I
thought your job lies with me
, mia tesora
…or have I misunderstood?”

“
Are
you saying that you’re going to confide in me for my story?” Her
eyes lit up at that moment and her lips curved into a
smile.

“Ahh
…I see
that is all you care about. But
sí
, I
will confide in you…after you learn to accept that I am not the man
you think I am.”

She
sighed. “And how long will that take?”

“For
as long as it takes…
It is your choice, not mine.” And he turned his back to her,
resting his hands against the railings.

Meagan contemplated the deal over and over and over again in
her mind for a couple minutes. If had wanted to hurt her, he
probably would have done just that already, right? She didn’t know
if she could trust Marco Mussolini…but she needed that story. She
sighed and brushed the locks of hair, that breeze was blowing over
her face, and then rolled her eyes at the conclusion she had
arrived at. She just hoped that she wasn’t making a big
mistake.

“
Where am I supposed to get clothes?” she
questioned.

“
We
are on the same page now, yes?” he remarked and then faced her. “I
have just enough clothes here to fit you.”

Her
eyebrow rose at him. “Belonging to your women, I suppose? I won’t
wear them, thank you very much.” She saw him frown angrily at her,
opened his mouth as if to say something and then
stopped.

“I
refuse to argue with you,
mia tesora
,” he only said. “
Pranzo!
Let’s
eat.”

CHAPTER 4

Meagan sat at the beautifully set round table and tried not to
show how impressed she actually was. The striking appearance of the
yacht’s interior had almost caused her to forget that she was, in
fact, inside a boat. The ceiling was concave and golden, and the
room looked very much like a typically merged dining-living room,
with exquisite and apparently exclusive furniture ranging from
mahogany arm chairs to large leather sofas. She glanced at him for
a moment, standing near a small table, talking on his cordless
phone. She heard him muttering softly in his language and she
watched him keenly. Who was he talking to? He had taken off his
jacket and was still dressed in his black trousers and white
long-sleeved shirt, whose sleeves were now rolled neatly up his
forearms. He looked unbelievably handsome and because he was, she
hoped that she could just get the story as soon as possible and
leave Sicily. She had no time to fall for a man like Marco
Mussolini.

Shortly, the waiter walked into the room pushing a food tray.
He then placed a few plates and dishes, filled with all sorts of
food, on the table next to the bottle of wine he had placed there
just a couple minutes before followed by two wine glasses. He then
left the room, upon saying a word to Marco. Meagan stared down at
the food and then up again, which was when she noticed that Marco
was now attempting to take his seat before her. She had no idea if
she was to start eating or not because he only sat there looking at
her as if he hadn’t seen her before in his life. She then reached
for a croissant when he halted her movement.

“
We
must say our grace, yes?”

She
frowned slightly and the shrugged. On all honesty, she could not
remember the last time when she had said her grace before having
any meal. “Uh…sure.”

“
You
don’t mind, of course…” He gestured to her with a small wave of his
hand.

Meagan bit her bottom lip and dug deep inside her head, trying
to remember one she had learnt from her mother. “Okay,” she said
and cleared her throat. “Close your eyes…” And he knotted the
fingers of both hands and placed his elbows on the edge of the
table, closing his eyes simultaneously. She then closed her own
eyes and began. “God is good…God is great. Let us thank Him for our
food…Amen.”

“Dio
benedica
...,” he
murmured and then opened his eyes to meet hers staring at him. He
then saw her look down at her food as if with curiosity and then up
at him blankly. “
Fettuccine
,”
he said.

“
What?”

“
The
type of pasta we are eating…it is called fettucine; the wide
noodles. I asked the Chef to prepare it with salmon sauce. You eat
salmon, no?”