Her Sicilian Arrangement (6 page)

She
nodded. “I eat salmon.”

“Bene
,” he
exclaimed and then began to pour her some wine. Shortly, she took a
fork full of the pasta and then smiled inside as she enjoyed the
taste of the meal. Was there any Italian meal that didn’t taste
good? She shrugged to herself and then took a sip of her wine.
After which she reached for the very much attractive croissant that
she had attempted to snatch a minute ago, covered in sweet white
icing. For a minute she began to think about when she was a child
baking with her mother. It was routine on Saturday afternoons for
them to bake all sorts of pastries such as cupcakes, chocolate chip
cookies, and home-made bread. Memories of those days crept, as if
stealthily, into her mind as she took the last bite of the
croissant. “May I have the courtesy of knowing what is going
through your mind?” she heard him say.

A
slight frown transformed her features and she looked at him. “It’s
nothing. I was just thinking about…work.”

Marco leant back in his seat, studying her face and then
sipped at his own glass. If he was right, the beauty sitting before
him was just as complicated as he had thought the first moment he
had laid eyes on her. He had first noticed the gently stunning yet
innocent beauty to her appearance. Her small mouth was full and
pink and her eyes were deep olive; reminding him of what he did for
a living before his current affairs; an olive farm worker. But it
was not until she had stood to ask her questions, that she had
struck him in the gut. She was svelte—looked about a hundred and
fifteen pounds—but she had a perfectly proportional figure. Small
firm breasts were hidden beneath pink linen and the short skirt
flaunted every contour of her curvaceous physique. At that point,
he could not have resisted giving her body a full scan. Her legs
seemed endless in those stilettos. As a man who hadn’t the time to
court a woman in quite a long time, she had relit that fire within
him to rescue his heart that had been in winter for far too long.
But he had to be careful. She had admitted that she was only
interested in doing her job and using him to shape her career. He
had to tame this
belleza scuro
(dark beauty), even if he had to keep her in captivity on his
boat for a while.

Marco looked at her once more before he took the last mouthful
of his pasta meal and then poured himself another glass of the
wine. “I have never been fond of journalists, Meagan Summers,” he
said, peering deeply into her eyes. “I find them
very…nosy.”

“
Ha!” she made an outburst as she almost choked on her food.
“And how am I supposed to react to that? I’ve never been fond of
drug dealers either!”

She
could see the dent that she had made in his feelings as his jaw
clenched with anger. But she had already seen that he was a man who
could control his anger very expertly. And to her surprise, he only
chuckled. “I shall enjoy our time together,
mia tesora
,” he remarked. “That tongue of yours tempts me in
more ways than you might think.” And the desire in his eyes
diffused into hers as if by some sort of spell-binding
ritual.

Meagan cleared her throat and then sighed. “Your English is
very fluent…,” she mentioned, obviously trying to avoid the
moment.

“
Yes. My mother…she was an English teacher for thirty years.
She taught my siblings and me to speak English since we were small
children.” Meagan sucked in a breath so quickly that she was
unaware of how loudly she had actually done the act. What next? She
thought. Why did his mother have to be a school teacher? She was
trying to get over her insecurities but how could she do that if
every second that passed by, there was something that reminded her
of those heartrending memories? But could she really get over her
vulnerabilities if she did not at least face them? “I am sorry…is
there something in what I said?” He sat upwards and examined her
closely.

“
Never mind. Sorry…my mind is just not here!” she chuckled
oddly and pointed at her temple. “Workaholic!”

“Hmmn,” he murmured and then rung for the waiter. The man
appeared almost instantly with a tray. “
Grazie
, Francesco.”

“Prego, Signor
,” he replied with a courteous nod of his head and then looked
at Meagan. “Signora…” She nodded at him and he smiled. He then
glanced mysteriously at Marco, who returned a hysterical shrug.
“
Questo qui…una
belleza
!” he
murmured to Marco.

She
looked at both of them curiously and then saw Marco smile, saying,
“
Moltissimo!
”

And
Francesco chuckled, clearing the table and then leaving the room
again. Marco stood at that moment and then walked over to the phone
again.

“
I’m
not stupid…I know you were talking about me,” she snapped at him,
jumping to her feet as well.

“Sí
. Francesco
was simply…expressing his opinion on your beauty.”

“
Beauty?” she queried as if she thought he was
lying.

“
Yes…you act surprised. Why so?”

“
Where will my room be?” she only said after a long
silence.

“Down the hall… The first door on the right.”

“Thank you.” And she left the living-dining room; walking
stiffly and chin high, looking like a proud peacock. Marcos eyes
followed her fondly until she exited and then averted them to the
number pad on the phone. He dialed his brother’s number, pulled in
a deep breath and then placed the phone to his ear as it rang
once…twice—

“
Felípe…,” he greeted his older brother’s voice, in Italian, as
soon as he heard it.

“
Marco? Where are you?”

“
I
have some business to care of on my yacht.”

“
Business?”

“
Yes. It is very important.”

“
If
you say so then I am sure it is.”

Marco swallowed lowly and then sighed. “How is
mother?”

“
Mother is the usual…cheerful. We are at the family house…she
keeps asking for you but I don’t know what to tell her. We haven’t
seen you in months. She’s very worried especially after the
allegations brought against you.”

“
I
know…I just want some time to myself. And María?”

“
She
looks as beautiful as ever. She is here too…but her little rascal
loves to bite!” he chuckled.

Marco laughed. “That is all good to hear.” He then closed his
eyes for a couple seconds and continued. “And how is
father?”

“He
is recovering well from his stroke. In fact, he asked for you only
last evening.” Now that surprised Marco more than anything else. He
and Torre Mussolini had never gotten along since he had reached his
twenty-second birthday and had decided to refuse the family
business of running the vineyards. Torre hadn’t spoken to him since
then and Marco had kept himself at a distance to avoid any form of
contention.

“
You
are being untruthful, Felípe.”

“
I
assure you, I am not. Why don’t you come by the family house?
Everyone is already here anyway…”

“
I’m
not sure I can,” he remarked, turning to look in the direction of
Meagan’s room.

“
Do
it for mother, at least.”

Marco sighed and then ran his fingers through his proficiently
styled hair. “Alright. I will see if I can be there by the next
break of day.”

“Splendid! We shall see you then.” Marco sighed and then hung
up. He could not believe that he had just agreed to go back to
their family house…to face a father that had hated him for nine
years. He was a man who was grown well to honour his parents no
matter what. And that is why he had chosen to stay away for so
long; to avoid dishonouring him and shaming the morals and
principles of the Mussolini family.

But
how could he show up there with a stranger? A journalist at that…he
had never been the type of person to bring females home, not even
when he had been a teenager. And his family had always been too
easy to jump to conclusions. There was something about Meagan
Summers that unmanned him and he felt as if he had to have her.
Therefore, ending his experience with her before it even started
was not a valid option. He had to come up with something whether
she was going to rip his head off or not. Marco moved into the hall
and then opened the door to the room that he had previously
appointed as hers. He stood in front of the door and welcomed
shocked eyes as she scrambled off the bed and grabbed up her blouse
to cover her bra-cladded breasts.

She
stuttered a while before she managed to get out a few words. “Oh my
god! I—I know that it’s your yacht…but you could have—oh, I don’t
know—
knocked
!!”

Marco spread his legs slightly apart and only looked at her.
“I apologize,” he then said. “Are you always like this?”

“
Like what?” She pulled the blouse further around her
mid-section.

“
Like a—like a…mad woman!”

Meagan’s mouth opened in shock as his words punched her in the
face. “A mad woman? Wow…now, that’s a first. Thank you for your
opinion; tell me more,” she spat out sarcastically.

“
Hush!” he said in a strong tone that frightened
her.

She
bit her bottom lip and cocked her head. “What do you
want?”

“
We
are going to my parents’ house first thing in the
morning.”

She
smiled happily and then whistled joyfully. “Good. Then you can just
drop me off at the dock so that I can get back to my
hotel.”

“You
are not listening,
mia tesora
. I
said ‘we’ and by that I mean, ‘you and I’.”

“Ohh, no!” she began to argue. “I am not going to your
family’s house. Not if you chain me to one of your precious limos
and pull me behind it!”

Marco could not help but laugh.
What a stubborn woman!
“I believe that you will. You see, I have
something that you want—undoubtedly, you have something that
interests me as well—so you have no other choice.”

She
huffed at him and then sucked in her bottom lip in fury. “Am I
missing something here?” she argued, turning her back to him and
then pulled on her blouse and buttoned it quickly. “Because if I
am, please explain it to me.” She pointed a finger at him
accusingly. “
You
promised
me a story.”

“
And
I will keep that promise. You should keep yours as
well.”

“
I
didn’t promise you anything!”

“I
am a businessman, Meagan. A very successful one. I bargain boats
and prices almost every day… My end of the deal must be as sweet as
my customers’.”

“
So
now I am one of your customers?” she added, comically.

He
approached her dubiously and then stopped only a foot away. From
that breadth, she could feel the heat radiating from his body to
hers and his eyes were so very penetrating. Meagan swallowed
deeply, trying to control her breathing. Why was he so…perfect?
This man did not belong in reality. He was the picture-perfect
model of a ‘Prince Charming’ from those Mills and Boons and
Harlequin novels she had loved to read so much as a teenager. The
only thing was that she had never anticipated meeting a real life
hot-blooded Sicilian man who would be standing before her, as in
the moment, and staring at her as if she was like some fresh piece
of meat. It was simply not pragmatic in her dull sort of life.
Maybe if she was a beauty queen that would have been somewhat
rational. If she pinched herself, would she awake from this dream?
But did she want to wake up? No chance!

“
Now…you are my sweetheart…as well as my future ‘significant
other’.”

“
You
can’t be serious.”

“
I
am. Marriage is a very important ceremony in my family. And since
we are visiting my family tomorrow, I suggest we play the part of
soon-to-be man and wife.”

Meagan held her head in her hands and paced back and forth
rapidly as if she was losing her mind. What the hell was he saying?
She shook her head furiously and ran her fingers through her hair,
throwing a tantrum that made him look at her as if he was some
shrink taking on a suicidal case. “No—no—no!” she yelped. “I will
not do it. Do you even know what you are asking me to
do?”

“I
know exactly what I am asking of you,
mia tesora
.”

“Will you stop that!” she snapped at him. “I am not
your
mia
te
—whatever!”

“
It
is your choice as it has always been.”

“
I
didn’t choose to come on your boat!”

“
But
you did choose to stay, no?” he muttered, in a calm tone that
irritated her especially since she was feeling so wretched. “You
will simply act as my fiancée for the duration of when we stay
there. That is all.”

“
Act
as your fiancée?” she chuckled. “That is not some sort of a puzzle
game that you can just easily place the pieces in all the right
places, Marco.” She said his name as if it was
distasteful.