Too Cold To Love (18 page)

Damn it, she was so believable looking at him as
though she did care.

"This is not
nothing
, Marco, and
whether you like it or not I will get this cleaned up for you. You'll scare
Mimi otherwise. Stay there, and don't move. I'll be right back."

Her withdrawal hit Marco like a physical slap,
and he was suddenly aware of the ache in his cut hand.

Elise's cheery voice carried through the open
door. "It's okay. Daddy is fine. He just dropped something. No, sweetie,
he's busy, how about we put some CBeebies on the telly for you? I'll be right
there. I just need to get something for Daddy."

Marco shut his eyes and wished he could close
his ears, too. Hearing her talking to Mimi like that twisted his guts in on
themselves. What was he to believe? Had he not wished for this for longer than
he dared to remember? A mother for his little girl, someone to bring out her
laughter, and someone to care about him? If only this was real, if only he
could trust her, but that could never be.

Elise reappeared just then. Her huge eyes locked
with his, and his heart rate sped up at what he saw in their welcoming depths.
She frowned and grabbed his hand none too gently.

"Ow, that hurts, woman!"

Elise took no notice, just dabbed a bit more
furiously at his cut with the antiseptic and then put a plaster on it. Her
hands shook, and he noticed her erratic breathing. Good, he wasn't the only one
affected here, damn it.

"There, you'll live, and I suggest you
clear this mess up. Hardly fair to have Agnes do it, just because you can't
control your temper."

"You haven't seen my temper yet." He
forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"And you haven't seen mine! Your daughter
wants you, so get yourself cleared up and come and see her. Don't worry. I'll
make myself scarce. I know when I'm not wanted."

In the blink of an eye she slammed the door shut
behind her. Marco swore softly. His hand still tingled from where she held it,
and he would have zip marks on his cock.

Dannazioni
, he
was so screwed.

Chapter Nineteen

Marco entered his house feeling as though the
weight of the world rested on his shoulders. The muted sounds of Mimi's excited
giggle, interspersed with Elise's soft voice and Agnes's amused Scottish drawl,
did little to alleviate the ice cold hand of dread. It had descended upon his
emotions ever since that phone call from his solicitor.

"There has been a development you need to
be aware of. We have to really think about how we handle this."

Robert's voice had that grave and extremely
irritatingly sympathetic tone to it that always set Marco's teeth on edge.

"Jennifer is on the war path, and her
solicitors are sharks. I was afraid this was going to happen. She's never given
you trouble before, but this thing with Elise. It seems Jennifer really objects
to your marriage. Elise's past is not exactly helping."

"I'm well aware of my wife's past. She's
not the one on trial here, so leave her out of this, and do your job, will
you?"

"Marco, you're being unreasonable. If we
just pull back a little, then, well this is volatile to say the least. The man
is dead, and these people mean business."

"Do what I pay you for, Johnson. I will
deal with the sister myself. You just need to concentrate on the court case,
and get that bitch out of our lives for good."

"But, with all due respect, your wife
will..."

"My wife is
my
responsibility,
Johnson, and you damn well better remember that when you're referring to Elise.
Make sure those you deal with remember that, too. Do I make myself perfectly
clear?"

Marco ground his teeth in frustration. His hand
still itched to punch something. The grueling session at the gym had done
little to help him relax or get a grip on his emotions. What the fuck was he
going to do?

Ever since that thick brown envelope had arrived
two days ago he'd been on the verge of confronting Elise. Every time the
rapport she had with Mimi had stopped him, so he'd simply glared at her. And
Elise met him glare for glare. His little
pasticcino
was clearly pissed
off with him. Her eyes spat fire at him every time he came too close. He could
almost see the bricks going up one by one. The gulf between them widened with
every passing day.

As though he was the one at fault here, damn it.
He had every right to have her watched. And after what he learned today, he had
a good mind to lock her and Mimi inside the house for their own protection.

He pulled the envelope with those damning
pictures across the desk towards him. The resemblance was uncanny. He had been
fucking fooled, hadn't he? And her sister was still using Elise's name. She hid
out in her flat, putting them all in danger. He had to act, and he had to act
soon.

His expression turned grim, recalling the heated
conversation he had had with Elise only this morning.

She'd tip-toed out of Mimi's room and run
straight into him.

"What are you doing?" she had
whispered, putting some distance between them and folding her arms around
herself.

"I could ask you the same thing, lady? Why
are you prowling around the house at this hour?"

His voice was rougher than he'd intended it to
be. His body still tingled with awareness where her soft curves had collided
with him. He balled his hands into fists at his sides to stop him from reaching
out and pulling her back into his frame. Her unique smell wrapped itself around
his senses calling him home, and it had taken all of his will power to step
away from her. He could beat this. He had to.

"I was checking on your daughter, and I
couldn't sleep, not that it's any of your business, Marco. Step out of my way,
so that I can go back to bed."

He'd stepped away slowly. Her next words hit him
like an ice cold shower.

"Or am I not even allowed to roam freely in
this house now? What the hell do you think I'm going to do, Marco Giovanni?
Smuggle Jemima in through the back door?"

"That wouldn't be wise, wife."

"Oh don't worry. I don't want my sister
anywhere near you."

She'd stalked off, the click of the lock on her
door impossibly loud in the quiet house. He could have sworn he heard her cry
behind that door. Damn it all, he had given up on sleep himself and had left
the house for work impossibly early. When he returned just after lunch he was
greeted with the delicious aroma of baking and Mimi's giggling.

Merda,
he wasn't
achieving anything staring at these pictures. He wasn't any closer to a
solution that wouldn't drive the wedge between him and Elise even further in.
The phone started ringing in the hall way, and he could hear Agnes answer it
before calling Elise.

The catch in Elise's voice made him crack his
door open wider and listen. He stepped out and smiled despite himself at the
sight that greeted him.

Elise dressed in jeans shorts and a tank top,
had a small towel tucked inside her waistband, presumably in an effort to
protect her clothes. It clearly hadn't worked. She was covered in flour,
hundreds and thousands, and bits of various colored icing sugar. Her hair had
escaped its ponytail and when she turned around the streak of flour on her
cheek made his grin widen.

"I've got to go. I'll see what I can do.
I'm sorry, too." Elise replaced the receiver.

The worried expression in her big eyes when they
locked with his,senta trickle of unease down his spine. A similarly covered
Mimi burst into the hallway and broke the moment.

"Papa, uddle," She threw herself at
him in a cloud of flour, sticky arms, and even sticker cuddles.
 
His heart felt lighter immediately. It was so
damn unbelievably good to see her happy and carefree.

"Hey,
bambina piccola,
what have you
been doing? Falling into a flour bale?"

"Ah nincompoop!"

"Excuse me, Mimi?" Marco couldn't help
but laugh. Nincompoop seemed to be Mimi's favorite word, and neither he nor
Elise had the heart to tell her off for using it. The result of which was that
she used it all the time.

"I believe what Mimi is trying to say is
that you shouldn't be here, and what we did is a surprise," Elise
chuckled. She stepped close enough for the hair on his neck to react to her
presence.

"Here, let me take her. She's getting you
all covered in muck. Your tailor will never forgive me. What are you doing home
this early?"

"My tailor can go hang himself. I've got
her, Elise. It’s okay. What surprise?"

"Urprise papa, lissss not tell!"

"You heard your daughter, Marco. It's a
surprise, and I'm not to tell."

"Si,
urprise,
own, nes now!"

Marco made himself put her down, and Mimi
skipped back towards the kitchen leaving a cloud of flour in her wake.

"I can't believe how much she is talking,
now. Every day she seems to be learning a new word. Are you still working with
her?"

Elise looked at him warily. She shook her head
and tried to get past him, but he stepped in front of her and grasped her
elbow.

"Please, Elise, I just want to talk. We can
be civil to each other, can't we?"

Another wary look from her, and she dropped her
eyes, and worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Believe it or not, I'm only trying to
protect you,
pasticcino."

Elise huffed and tried to shake his arm off, but
he wouldn't let her. They were going to have that conversation, and she was not
going to like what he had to say.

****

Elise couldn't breathe. He was too close, and he
looked too damn sexy. He hadn't shaved that morning giving him that dangerous
look. Mimi's cuddle had left him covered in splurges of flour that had her
hands itching to brush them off him. He had unbuttoned the buttons on his
shirt, his tie hung loose, the sleeves rolled back to reveal strong forearms,
dusted with black hair, and every time he moved the hint of his scent wrapped
itself round every one of her female senses.

And far worse than that, the stormy blue eyes
searching her face held none of their usual frost, but looked at her with male
appreciation and some other emotion that made her heart rate speed up. She took
a step towards him before she realized what she was doing.

Oh great going, girl, why not wear a big neon
sign, pronouncing I'm yours any time you look at me with kind eyes. Get.
A.Grip.

His next words were the equivalent of a cold
shower.

"Who was on the phone, Elise?"

She couldn't look at him when she
mumbled,"No one important."

The grip on her arm tightened, and he swung her
round into his study with a muffled curse.

"Damn it, woman. Don't lie to me. Who was
on the phone?"

"Let go of me. You're hurting me."

To her surprise, he let her go immediately with
another string of Italian expletives.

"Who was on the phone, Elise? Damn you,
woman, I can't protect you, if you don't tell me who it was?"

"Protect me? Protect me from what,
Marco?"

Another string of muttered Italian and Elise
found herself grabbed and made to sit down.

"Sit down,
pasticcino
. You're not
going like what I have to say."

Dread grabbed hold of Elise, and her breathing
grew shallow. Jemima's anguished voice on the phone earlier only increased the
iciness travelling up her spine.

"Was it Jemima on the phone? Elise, was it
Jemima?"

At her barely visible nod, Marco crouched down
in front of her. He took her suddenly freezing hands in his.

"You can't meet up with her if that's what
she's asking of you. I won't let you, at least not on your own. It's not
safe."

"What do you mean it's not safe, Marco?
You're only saying that because you don't want me to see her. She's my sister,
damn you, and I'm going to see her whether you like me to or not."

Elise hated the catch in her voice, but he was
too close for comfort. His hand under her chin forced her to look directly at
him, and she was struck by the grave expression on his face.

His low, urgent tones increased the icy dread
suffusing her even as his gentle touch on her skin sent a different awareness
coursing through her veins.

"I've been having her watched, Elise. Do
you know she is using your name, hiding in your flat, not as herself but as
Elise Donovan? Do you know why? Do you have any idea what trouble she is
in?"

Oh God, this wasn't going to be good, was it? He
was deadly serious and completely focused on her.

"Why the hell do you not just get it over
with and tell me already, Marco. You're clearly dying to. I'm sure whatever it
is,it's nothing she hasn't done before. She used to pretend to be me all the
time; it's just a stupid prank.That's all."