Making Mina 2: Strings Attached (6 page)

“Where is she, Genovese?” Sharp and sneering, the voice was unpleasantly familiar.  Mina peered around Marco’s shoulder and groaned—Ethan. 

“I believe I said, ‘Leave.’” Marco’s words were so cold they dripped icicles, but Ethan wasn’t listening.

“Mina,” he said, angry that he couldn’t reach her, “I see you back there.  Come out here and face me.”

Mina couldn’t believe it.  Ethan was angry—with 
her
. 
He must be drunk… or crazy...
  she thought, before looking up at the savage face above her.
 Or suicidal
.

Marco stood rigidly in front of her, his body blocking most of the aisle, but Mina refused to hide.  She patted the arm that held her and gently disengaged herself so she could move to stand beside him.  It was ridiculous. The three of them were close enough to the front of the restaurant that they were visible from all sides, and 
everyone
 was watching. Anger radiated off the man beside her and she patted his arm again, whether to soothe him or herself she wasn’t sure. She just hoped she could talk some sense into Ethan before Marco decided he wanted to kill him.

“I don’t know what you want, Ethan,” she said, her voice pitched low so it wouldn’t carry farther than the troublesome blond in front of her.  “But whatever it is can wait.  This is not the time or the place to have this conversation.”

Ethan took an unsteady step forward. His eyes were a little glassy and his face was red. 
Definitely drunk.
 “And just when would the proper time and place be, then?  At home?  No, I’m sorry. That won’t work since you moved all your belongings out while I was 
out of town
.” He sounded so aggrieved, so put upon, that Mina snorted.

 “Well, of course I did!  What did you expect?”  Marco’s arm slipped around her waist again and he pulled her back against the hard length of his body.  Ethan’s eyes followed the movement, focusing on the hand that gripped her hip possessively, and Mina spoke again, trying to draw his attention away from Marco.  “There was no reason for me to stay.  You made that perfectly clear.”

She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice, and Ethan tut-tutted at her.  “Don’t be like that, Mina.  And what is 
he
 doing here?”  He turned unsteadily to Marco. “Did she come to you with a sob story about how badly she’d been treated? I’d have thought you’d know better than to believe something like that.  It was nothing—I was just having a little fun, and Miss Priss here has gone and blown it all out of proportion. As usual.” The sneer in his voice thickened, and an angry red mist floated across Mina’s vision causing her to forget about the audience around them.

“I blew it out of proportion?”  She raised a pale pink manicured finger and jabbed it at Ethan.  “If finding 
my fiancé
 screwing another woman in 
my bed 
isn’t a reason for me to be angry, I’d like to know what is.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and looked to Marco.  “See?  Completely out of proportion. She’s like those artifacts in the museum where she works.  Dry, dusty, and dull.” When Marco didn’t sympathize he turned his attention back to Mina.  “If you’re trying to make me jealous, then
 this
,” he 
snickered as he waved a hand at the two of them, not believing for an instant that she had found comfort in the arms of the handsome Italian
, “isn’t the way to go about it. You should at least have found someone more believable.”  He shook his head at Marco, “No offense, Mr. Genovese, I’m sure you’re accustomed to women throwing themselves at you, but, she really shouldn’t have involved you.  It’s utterly ridiculous, and I’m terribly sorry she’s dragged you into the middle of it. I know you wouldn’t be involved in a scheme like this if you actually knew what was going on.”

Mina couldn’t believe Ethan’s audacity.  She opened her mouth to tell him off, but he talked right over her, scolding her like a naughty child.

“Do you have any idea what kind of damage you could have done to Mr. Genovese’s reputation? How much damage you’ve done to 
my
 reputation?”  Ethan leaned forward in full lecture mode.  “I’ll admit it—I can partially understand your being upset, but your behavior the other night at Carlito’s got back to the office, and you and Mr. Genovese were the topic of several conversations.”  He raised his eyebrows and looked down his nose at her.  “Very distasteful conversations.”

Speech escaped her.  She couldn’t believe he was serious.  He fucked his assistant, called her horrible names, crushed her self-esteem, drove her to drink and debauchery, and 
she
 was distasteful?  He was unbelievable. 

It was all more than she could bear. Tears threatened to fall and she struggled to calm herself.  She would 
not
 give Ethan the pleasure of seeing her cry. Marco, still silent, seemed to sense her problem and pulled her forward, sliding her in front of him, allowing her to lean back against his strength, gently wrapping her in his arms. She took a deep breath and centered herself; Ethan was just pressing her buttons—again. She’d done nothing wrong, and no one, especially not an egotistical bastard like Ethan, could make Marco Genovese do anything he didn’t want to do.

“The only distasteful conversation concerning me is 
this
 one,” she finally said.  “You should leave.  I don’t want to fight, and you’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

She did want to fight, actually, but Ethan wasn’t worth it.  She wasn’t going to waste a single minute more than she had to on him.

“I don’t want to fight either,” he said, eyes narrowing as he watched Marco’s hands as they rubbed soothing little circles on Mina’s arms. Marco said nothing, just continued his lazy exploration of the skin beneath his fingers.  “But you’re the one making a spectacle.
 I
 wanted to give you a chance you reconsider your hasty decision to move out.  I know you’ve moved in with Ivy, but you can’t stay there indefinitely.  You need me, and I figure it’s only fair to let you change your mind, even if you’ve managed to cause a storm of trouble.”

Mina was contemplating the storm of trouble she’d like to cause when a deep voice emanated from the man holding her.

“You are even more of an imbecile than I originally thought, Masters,” Marco drawled lazily, contempt thickly accenting his words. “Considering the fact that my opinion of you was incredibly low to begin with, that is
 almost
 impressive.”

The insult shocked Ethan out of his typical smugness, and an ugly mottled red crept out of Ethan’s collar and up his neck.  “I don’t believe I was speaking to you, Genovese,” he glared at the man inexplicably holding his prize. “You can run back to your supermodel girlfriends, now.  This isn’t any business of yours. The jealousy thing isn’t working, and this is strictly between Mina and me.”

A predatory look crossed Marco’s face and Ethan instinctively stepped backwards. “
Anything
 concerning Mina is my business, and there is 
nothing
 between you and her anymore.”

Marco slid his hands under Mina’s arms, splaying his fingers across her middle, making his claim clear.  He watched confusion bloom on the blond’s face, almost laughing when the penny dropped and Ethan finally realized this wasn’t an act

“You ungrateful bitch!” Ethan snarled as he saw the way Mina leaned into Marco, trust and welcome in every line of her body.  “How long have you been sleeping with him behind my back?”

In a split second Ethan found his venom spewing cut off as his shirt collar was gripped tightly in Marco’s angry fist, lifting him helplessly to his toes.

“You will 
never 
speak to her like that again.”  Mina shivered at the loss of heat from Marco’s body, and from the cold fury in his voice. 
Please don’t ever let him talk like that to me
, she thought.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Ethan’s reply was pure bravado; Mina could see the color leaving his face.  “I knew you wanted her, ever since that event we hosted, but really… she’s a frigid bitch. She’s so cold she’d snap your dick off if you tried to fuck her.”

Marco’s hold on Ethan’s shirt collar tightened, and Mina heard a growl of anger escape his throat.

“You don’t get to say such things,” he twisted the fabric until it cut into Ethan’s flesh.  Mina could see the maître‘d wringing his hands, afraid to interfere and even more afraid not to.  “She never betrayed you—would never have considered it.  You can only blame yourself for your loss.”

He released Ethan suddenly, the smaller man crumpling to the floor in a graceless heap.  He stood over him, a sneer on his lips that spoke volumes.  “As for her being cold, I have found her to be anything but. She is responsive and passionate—a vision in her pleasure—and you? You are 
nothing
.”

Mina stood there listening to Marco’s defense of her, and her heart racing. 

“Marco?” She spoke his name and his head snapped around to look at her.  “
Sì , mia adorata
?”  His eyes were black, anger and desire warring within them, and Mina’s breath caught in her throat at the intoxicating combination.

“Leave him,” she said.  She waved a hand at the manager hovering in the background.  “He’s not worth it.” 

A frustrated sound snarled in the space between them, Marco’s anger not wanting to let his enemy go without bloodshed.  Mina placed her hand carefully over his heart, its insistent pounding a drumbeat that echoed throughout her body. She looked up at him. “Let’s go home.  Please.”

Home.  With him.  Yes, she wanted to go home.

She stepped away from him, holding a trembling hand out to him in invitation. He ignored it, preferring to sweep her into an embrace that took the rest of her breath away.

“Anything for you,” he said, dropping a searing kiss on her lips.  They stood there like that, lost in each other for a long moment until a choking noise from Ethan brought them back to their senses.  Marco loosened his grip enough that he could take a final threatening step towards the man on the floor.

“I do not want to see your face again. Ever.  If I hear that you have contacted her I will find you. If I hear that you’ve spoken ill of her I will 
destroy 
you.  
Capisci
?”  There was no mistaking the threat and the promise in Marco’s voice and Ethan nodded his understanding, his chin wobbling in pathetic effect.  “She is mine now. You would do well to remember it.”

Mina had never heard that note of possession in his voice before and a shudder rolled through her at his words. Her eyes traveled over the stark planes of his face, until a tightness in her chest reminded her to breathe.

Mine.  Mine now
.

The words echoed in her ears. It didn’t matter how many other women had heard those words before.  It didn’t matter that he would never be an easy man to love.  He destroyed the protective barriers around her heart; he had claimed her and her heart agreed.

Marco heard the hitch in her breathing and swore softly, the words barely audible.  He pulled her along, the maneuvering of doors and cars mere ghosts of interference, his only goal to have her—his, only his, in his house, in his arms, in his bed.

Chapter Six

The night had turned cool, and Mina shivered as she fought the waves of desire that threatened to suffocate her and she reached a hand out to him. A lost look—full of longing—was on her face and his body tightened in need. He gripped the steering-wheel tighter, needing something concrete to keep him focused.

“Don’t,” Marco gritted out and her eyes flashed up at him in surprise.  She turned to him, swimming through layers of sensation—the breeze through the open windows, the heat of him, the tingling of her skin. “Marco?” She didn’t understand; she just 
wanted
 him.

“
Dio Santo
! Don’t look at me like that,” he said, eyes flickering between her and the road.  “I am at the edge of my control, and unless you want me to pull over and take you right now, you won’t tease.  There is only so much a man can take, Mina 
mia
.”

She wasn’t teasing.  She wanted him badly—almost enough to agree to whatever impulse was riding him—but she heard the warning in his voice and knew enough to respect it.

Marco drove too fast, the expensive engine responding to his every demand, and Mina couldn’t help but draw parallels to how he managed to wring such a response from everything he touched.  She looked at him, his eyes glittering in the light from the dash, his jaw tight as he sped through town, and she ached to have that focus on her.

When they reached the building, Marco pulled a fob out of his pocket and summoned an express elevator, unwilling to wait for the regular one.

I guess I still won’t have had sex in an elevator
, she thought a little wildly.

“Not now,” Marco said, a wolfish grin on his face as he pressed her against the cold wall of the elevator. “Maybe tomorrow.”

His hands traced lines of fire across her skin, until he cupped her face in them, lifting her lips for his kiss.

“Almost,” he touched her lips with his and she gasped at the sensation, “home.”  His mouth covered hers, his tongue demanding entrance.  He teased the tender flesh inside her lower lip, nipping at the surface, and then lightly gliding across it to soothe the sting.

The elevator chime rang, and Mina’s knees weakened as she realized they’d arrived.  The world spun in a dizzying arc as strong arms swung her up and carried her, through the hall, through the living areas, cutting through the darkness and homing in on the door—the door that had taunted her all week—and the bedroom beyond, the vision of it bringing back memories of all the pleasure that existed there before.

Whispered words washed across her in a constant stream, and she grabbed each on and held it tightly to her heart.

“Mine,” Marco said it for the thousandth time and Mina shuddered at the dark determination in his voice.

“Yours.”  The single word fell from her lips and she could feel its weight as it landed between them.