Sophie and the Scorching Sicilian (20 page)

His eyes scanned her face; he opened his mouth and appeared to change his mind. Then quite suddenly he smiled. Sophie, who could find nothing to laugh at in this situation, told herself he was a callous rat and she'd had a lucky escape.

Marco felt a rush of heady relief. ‘And that bothers you.' It was a statement.

‘I couldn't give a damn!' she flung back, then seamlessly contradicting herself yelled, ‘It bothers me that you're
stupid
and sh-shallow enough to be in love with someone who isn't good enough to…to…'

As her feelings threatened to overcome her, Sophie pressed a hand to her trembling lips and shook her head mutely before choking, ‘Just because she's beautiful on the outside.'

And despite lip service what man born, she thought cynically, cared a jot if a girl had a sense of humour or a lovely personality, if she was plain or fat or had cellulite. Men went for the package and in Allegra's case that package was stunning.

‘I don't give a stuff about Allegra.' Marco's lips didn't even twist into their usual grimace as he said the name. ‘She is the past.' He made a slashing gesture of finality before extending his hand to Sophie.

She looked at his fingers and wanted to take them, wanted to place her hand within his and feel safe and cherished, but she knew that she would be fooling herself. The safety would be an illusion.

‘The past that you have been writing to.' She saw his eyes widen and said, ‘Yes, I know.'

‘How?'

At least he hadn't bothered denying it. ‘I saw the return address on the envelope. I waited for you to tell me…I gave you every opportunity.'

‘I have been corresponding with Allegra, but we have not
been exchanging love letters. I would not touch Allegra with a barge pole—I would not risk even that. Allegra is poison.

‘My marriage to her was pure hell from almost day one. She never wanted me, just what I could give her. I have been corresponding not to her direct but to her lawyers. It is Allegra who insists on writing to me personally. When she left she took some items that did not belong to her,' he explained. ‘It was a loss I did not discover until recently, and I needed those items back.'

‘She stole something from you.'

‘Yes, she did.'

‘What items?'

He reached into his jacket and withdrew a box.

‘It's for you,' he said, placing it on her lap.

Sophie slid him a sideways look. Marco smiled and tilted his head encouragingly towards the box.

Sophie opened it slowly and gasped.

‘They're beautiful.' The sapphire-and-diamond collar were set in antique gold, and there was a matching pair of earrings beside it. ‘They look very old.'

‘They date back to the Arabian invasion of Sicily,' he said, watching her face.

‘So old…They're beautiful, Marco, but I couldn't possibly…'

Without a word Marco got out of the car. Sophie watched, thinking, My God, is he giving up?

I haven't even had the chance to say no and he's—

‘Sophie.' Marco stood at the open door beside her.

He waited until he had her attention and dropped down on one knee.

‘I said I would never insult your intelligence this way but it is my intelligence that is in question. Sophie Balfour, my own dearest angel, I swear eternal love to you and ask—no,
beg
—you to marry me and…' He stopped and lifted a hand. ‘One moment, I almost forgot.'

She watched, her brain still lagging one sentence behind,
though that sentence was enough to make her heart soar, as he pulled a familiar-looking legal paper from his pocket.

‘This,' he said, ripping it with slow relish into eight pieces, ‘we do not need.' He flung the shredded paper over his shoulder and addressed the matter in hand.

‘Please do me the very great honour of being my wife. Before you say anything, let me tell you that if you say no I will be a broken man. I might even take to drink, not that I am in any way trying to influence you.' The glimmer of humour faded from his eyes as he added huskily, ‘You brought my home back to life, and my heart. If you leave me, you take it with you.'

Sophie pressed a hand to her trembling lips. ‘I'm not going to say no, Marco, you know that.'

Marco raised her hand to his lips. ‘Where you are concerned,
cara mia
, I do not take anything for granted. I have been such a fool and a coward.' He shook his head in disgust. ‘I was afraid to feel—my emotions have been in deep freeze until you, my own personal sun, melted them.' He took her face tenderly in his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

Sophie sighed and choked tearfully, ‘I love you, Marco.'

‘What about this man you spoke of…you invented him?'

‘He's you.'

For a smart man Marco could be very stupid sometimes. The look of shock swiftly followed by complacence on his face made Sophie laugh and plead, ‘Please get back in the car, people will see you.'

‘I don't care if they do. I want the world to know that you are mine.'

‘And you are mine?'

Marco's expression was solemn as he placed her small hand on his heart and said, ‘Always. You said tonight that life is fragile and you were right—I almost lost you…' She watched the muscles in his brown throat work as he visibly struggled to regain his composure.

Sophie leaned forward and stroked his cheek, touching a finger to the fresh wound. ‘I'm not going anywhere without you,' she said lovingly. ‘You know what scares me, if that reporter hadn't seen Bella and Olivia having their catfight, and Daddy hadn't decided to change his ways, I would never have met you, and I would still be hiding away at Balfour being the plain one. I never feel plain with you, Marco, you've always made me feel beautiful.'

Marco rested his forehead against Sophie's. ‘This is because you
are
beautiful.'

His throaty voice sent a shiver of pleasure though her body. He kissed her closed eyelids tenderly and she sighed before lifting her swimming blue eyes to his.

‘Can I really be this happy?' she asked wonderingly. ‘Let's go home, Marco. I like the way that sounds,
home
…I might say it again, possibly many times.'

‘Yes, it does have a good ring,' he agreed, kissing the tip of her nose. ‘And, yes, let us go home. I have had enough of cars for one day. They have their uses but I require more room to express my feelings tonight.'

His wicked smile made her blush.

‘I have one request: do not come naked to my bed tonight.'

‘What?'

He grinned at her indignation. ‘I would like to see diamonds and sapphires against your skin.'

She pretended shock but was seriously aroused by the erotic suggestion. ‘You are a very bad man, Marco.'

He bent his head and kissed her hard before walking around to his side of the car. He started the ignition and turned to Sophie with a smile in his eyes that made her eyes fill.

‘I will attempt to always be bad for you.'

Sophie could find no fault with this plan.