The Medici Mistress: Nothing and no one would stop him from having her. (19 page)

That love was gone. Dead and buried. Unfortunately, she had to spend the next two weeks picking through the detritus of the graveyard, and the whole pretence felt like an exercise in agony, now.

The December weather had turned arctic, and the flurry of snow that had fallen as she’d emerged from the cab was turning to water droplets on her coat. Distracted from the wedding photo, she slipped out of her jacket and scarf and draped them over the hall stand.

She wouldn’t have been human if she weren’t curious. It had been a long time since she’d lived with Niko. What had changed in his life? Apart from the hardening of his heart to resemble stone.

With the house to herself, she slipped upstairs, to the room that had been their bedroom. Stepping inside was like being sucked through a strange temporal vortex. With a deep breath, she moved around the edges, running her hands over the furniture she’d lovingly chosen. Her picture was on his side of the bed; he’d taken it one of the first nights they’d met, when she had thought him simply the most devastatingly charming man alive.
Something to remember me by
? She’d said with a goofy grin as he’d snapped the image.
I won’t need to remember you, cara mia,
Niko had said smoothly. Bianca hadn’t understood, but later, he’d told her that he’d simply meant he was never going to let her out of his sight.

She ran a finger across the glass front, trying to remember what it was like to smile like that. She looked so happy. As though the whole world was an endless playing field designed for her pleasure and enjoyment. She hadn’t known then that past decisions would haunt her bright future, making that happiness simply the shadow of a dream. An unattainable hoax.

“Welcome home.”

She spun on her heel, feeling like a toddler caught with their fingers in the cookie jar. “I didn’t think you’d be here. You’re not supposed to be home.”

He shook his head slowly, his eyes focused on her mouth, so that even at this distance, she felt her body’s traitorous reaction. “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t welcome my wife back after such a lengthy absence?”

“The fake kind,” she snapped hotly, aware that her nipples were straining against her cashmere top.

“As we’ve agreed, this will very much feel like a real marriage, in the most important ways.”

She colored at his reminder, but he was right. She had agreed to his terms. Hell, it was almost all she’d been able to think about since the last time she’d seen him. It wasn’t like sleeping with him would be a hardship. Her body had been begging her to fall back into Niko’s bed. She was privately aching to oblige it.

He expelled a harsh sigh, mistaking her silence for regret. “Relax,
cara,
I’m not an animal. I have no intention of ravaging you right here and now.” But he stalked across the room like a panther, until he stood just before her. He dragged the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, mesmerized by the way her breathing immediately quickened. “This is for you.”

She blinked, her eyes the exact color of the ocean outside his Greek villa, he thought appreciatively. Bianca looked down into his hands, at the small box he held there. And immediately she flashed back to the first time she’d seen that box, almost three years earlier.

“You are the moon to my stars, the sun to my world. You are the air I breathe, and the fire in my soul. If you agree to marry me, I will spend the rest of my days making you the happiest woman on earth.” His proposal had sucked the air out of her lungs, and she’d known in that moment what pure delirium felt like.

Now, as he slipped the enormous black diamond solitaire back on her ring finger, she felt the exact opposite. Despair so real it was like flames licking the sensitive soles of her feet. How could she pretend to be married to the man she had never stopped loving, when he clearly hated her?

“It feels heavy,” she said quietly, looking at the way it caught the light with an almost blinding intensity.

“It didn’t get in your way when we were married; I’m sure it won’t bother you now.”

Fingers of pain tightened around her heart. Up close, she could see she’d been mistaken about Niko. A year apart had changed him. He was a more leanly muscled build, slimmer, but still powerful. His eyes had some fine creases at the corner.

“I’ve organized dinner. Will you be ready at eight?”

She frowned. “Dinner? What in the world for?”

He looked at her as though she were simple. “Don’t you think it would be a wise idea to fill me in on some pertinent facts before we join your family?”

He was right, of course. Damn him. She was so wrapped up in the sheer overpowering mental battle she was fighting between her body and mind that she hadn’t even thought about how much had happened since they’d broken up. She hadn’t even told him about her new job. With a flush, she nodded, feeling every bit as idiotic as he seemed to think she was.

“I still can’t believe you managed to talk me into Christmas in the Scottish Highlands.”

“It’s beautiful up there,” she contradicted quietly, imagining the snow-crested peaks and cozy fireplaces.

“I am not one for the cold, as you know. My idea of beauty is sun-warmed sand and the sound of crashing waves. Preferably with a beautiful woman in a small bikini to add to the view.” She colored as an image of him with a glamorous woman, perhaps a supermodel or Italian film star, filled her mind with a red haze of envy. 

She angled her face away. “You can get back to that in a couple of weeks. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Niko was tempted to point out that she’d just dismissed him in his own home, but he did not. He had plenty of time to wage war with his wife; tonight, he was simply going to enjoy watching her squirm as the full force of the situation she’d put herself in became apparent.

“Fine,
cara.
Until tonight.
”

Bianca couldn’t relax all afternoon, knowing that she had a night with her husband ahead. She had thought this would be easy enough to pull off. After all, they’d been happy once before. It was only dawning on her now that Niko had treated her with kid gloves throughout their marriage. She’d only seen him angry once before: the night they’d argued and he’d asked for a divorce. Now, it was becoming painfully apparent that he had a strong dark side. His cold detachment was worse than anger. She wanted to break through and make him emotional. Anything but this frozen zone.

When she walked into their dining room a few minutes after eight, the sight of her husband took her breath away. Tall and stunningly handsome in a jet black suit with crisp white shirt flicked open at the neck, he both dwarfed her and made her feel extremely unattractive at the same time.

She had never really thought about her looks until she’d met Niko. Growing up on the shores of Bondi, she’d had an active, outdoorsy childhood. Her figure was athletic, her skin naturally tanned, and her hair had always been fair. But she was not given to the type of vanity that might have led another woman to maximize her attractions. Her job was physically demanding, and she rarely wore make up. Her chef whites covered her clothes and so there was no need to impress anyone with her sartorial skills. And so she’d never given her looks much thought. Until Niko had crashed through her carefully erected barriers and she’d woke up one morning only to realize that her husband was the kind of man women actively coveted and targeted. That she might not have what it took to keep his interest.

At the time, she’d quickly dismissed the little kernel of worry. After all, he loved her with a fierceness that didn’t allow room for doubt. But now, there was no love. And he was still effortlessly stunning, larger than life vibrant with the kind of looks that would be at home in a Dolce & Gabana advertising campaign. The certainty that he was irresistibly desirable to any woman who crossed his path hit her like a blade in the solar plexus. She’d given up her right to be jealous the night she’d walked out on him; but waves of envy were washing over her now. How many women had there been since then?

“You’re late,” he observed without a flicker of emotion on his face as he dragged his gaze up and down her body, taking in her jeans and sweater with very little appreciation.

“By minutes,” she snapped, already overwrought and the night was yet to begin.

He tilted his head in assent, knowing he was creating an argument out of nothing. He’d always loved her innocent approach to life. The women he had dated before Bianca were vipers compared to his sweet girl. No thigh high splits in her dresses, and no stilettos so spiked they could pierce a man’s skin. No, she was too down to earth for that. She might be a lioness in the bedroom, but she was a kitten in real life. Or so he had stupidly believed.

“Did I misunderstand? Are we eating out?” She asked nervously, gesturing towards his suit.

“I thought it would keep a level of civility to our arrangement.”

Annoyance zapped through her. “This is so like you, Nik! Why do you always expect me to be a mind-reader?”

His frown was almost imperceptible. She
had
seemed like a mind-reader when they’d first met. He’d never known what it was like to be so completely in step with someone. “I thought I said…”

“You didn’t. Do you think I would have worn this if I had known we weren’t staying here?”

Her skin tingled as he subjected her to a slow, assessing inspection. From the jeans that hugged her like a second skin to the jumper that was soft and comfortable, and showed the hint of the valley between her breasts.

“You look fine to me.”

Talk about being damned with faint praise, she thought with an inward grimace.

Niko’s gaze lingered on the golden skin just above her cleavage. “We could always remain at home, if you’d prefer?” His throaty suggestion left her in little doubt as to what their night at home would involve.

She arched a perfectly shaped brow derisively. “No, thank you. Where are we going?”

With a small smile, Niko named one of the most exclusive restaurants in London.

“I’ll go and change, then,” she said tersely.

Five minutes later, she had tossed on an outfit she’d worn loads of times, but suddenly felt strange in. It was a black jersey tube dress that hugged her figure from breasts to knees, and was cut away at the shoulders. She’d always loved it, but now it felt too revealing. Too sexy. The tension throbbing between them didn’t need any encouragement, and wearing something like this was going to send all the wrong signals.

“Bianca, the car is ready,” he said from beyond the doorway and she startled.

She slipped into a pair of heels and wrapped a turquoise scarf loosely around her neck. Her blonde hair she left loose around her shoulders. When she yanked open the door a minute later, she deliberately avoided catching Niko’s eye, so she didn’t see the way his expression changed. For the quickest of moments, he felt like she’d opened the door to the past. Everything about her was the same, and it had evoked in him a memory of the fierce, all-consuming love he’d once felt. Her delicate fragrance, silky hair, smooth skin and bewitching eyes… she was as alluring as ever. A fact that many men had appreciated, he forced himself to remember.

Which didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the way her pert rear wiggled as she walked down the stairs in front of him. He felt his groin strain at his pants. It was an unwelcome reminder that when it came to his relationship with Bianca, only one thing called the shots, and that ‘thing’ was desire.

Though the restaurant was crowded, the best table had been reserved for Niko Casacelli. As one of the three famed Casacelli brothers, he had been born into the world with a silver spoon of luxury that most couldn’t even fathom. But through his own business nous and fearful intellect, he’d increased the family fortune and built a real estate empire of his own. His name would open any door, and a single phone call, in Bianca’s experience, would guarantee him anything he decided to ask for.

Niko Casacelli always got the best.

But, when it came to the top restaurants in London, he was in the rare position of playing second fiddle to his wife. Bianca Scott-Lee was the darling of the cooking world, and for good reason. Aside from her talents as a chef, she was beautiful, intelligent and funny. Her work ethic had impressed even Niko; when they’d been dating, she had made him wait seventeen Saturdays before finally agreeing to take a night off.

Although Bianca had spent many nights across the table from this man, she couldn’t think of a damned thing to say now. There was so much she would have told him if the passage of time had been kinder to their relationship. But with so much water under the bridge, what would the point have been? There was no going back for Bianca, and she knew his mind, once made up, was impossible to change.

Niko watched with veiled amusement as the Maitre d reacted to his wife’s presence. There was a discernible flutter of excitement at having
the
Bianca Scott-Lee in their presence. “Madam,” he said with a low bow, “What a delight to have you with us. The chef has asked to prepare a special selection of meals for you. Of course, you may order off the menu if you’d prefer.”

Bianca flicked her pale blue eyes across to Niko. When they were married, she would always have indulged the kitchen. She understood that a chef knew their own menu and cooking style best, and would therefore know the optimal order of dishes to serve. But now, she wasn’t sure she would be able to appreciate the flavors. Her whole body was in a state of such alertness, and every fiber of her being was focused on the magnetic tug of the man opposite.