Кэрол Мортимер – Fascination: The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge (страница 8)

‘And what about you?’ she attacked scornfully. ‘You’re what? Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?’

‘Thirty-seven to your twenty-seven,’ he supplied tersely.

She nodded impatiently. ‘And have you been married before too?’ she challenged.

Cesare calmly surveyed her flushed beauty for several lengthy seconds before answering her. ‘If I had been married at all, Robin, then I would still be married,’ he replied. ‘Divorce is not something I will ever allow to happen in my life. Once married, I will stay married,’ he added, snuffing out any hope that, once bound to him, with those shares safely in her possession, she could then decide to part legally from him.

The sooner he got her with child, binding her to him irrevocably, the better it would be for both of them.

‘You will stay married,’ he added, in case she had even the smallest doubt that he meant what he said. ‘So, dinner this evening,’ he repeated briskly. ‘I think it would be best if I were to call for you here at seven-thirty—’

‘I haven’t even agreed to have dinner with you yet!’ Robin cried frustratedly. Things were moving too fast for her altogether—Cesare Gambrelli was moving too fast for her altogether!

At the same time as she could feel the tightening of his ties about her as he drew her to his side with the intention of keeping her there.

True, at this moment in time she could see no way out of what he was proposing—ordering—her to do. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. And the more she played for time, the more chance she had of thinking of one!

He lifted dark brows, his mouth curved fully into a mocking smile. ‘But you will, will you not?’

His confidence was just too—too infuriating! She felt like a mouse being played with by a very large, very dangerous feline! A black panther, perhaps.

Oh, get a grip, Robin, she instantly instructed herself. Cesare Gambrelli was definitely as dangerous as her father had warned her he was, but she had no intention of actually showing him how disturbed she was by his threats.

‘Yes, I will,’ she agreed through gritted teeth. ‘But you will not come here and pick me up,’ she told him, knowing she had to take some control of this situation or become completely lost to Cesare Gambrelli’s demands. ‘I’ll meet you at the restaurant.’

Cesare’s smile faded instantly, his mouth twisting derisively at what he easily guessed was a deliberate show of independence.

For the moment he had no problem with that—could allow her that freedom. He would have plenty of time, once she was his wife, to show her that he did not take orders from anyone—least of all the woman he was only taking as his wife in order to settle a blood feud!

‘We will not be eating at a restaurant, but in my suite at the London Gambrelli Hotel,’ he informed her loftily. ‘I feel it would be … more private for the conversation we intend having,’ he opined, before she had a chance to argue.

He could almost see the workings of her mind at this statement. First indignation. Followed by trepidation at the thought of being alone with him in his hotel suite. And then finally the realisation that, despite her reluctance, he was probably right.

Probably! He had no doubt whatsoever that this evening’s conversation would be no less heated than the one they had just had. Just as he had no doubt that neither of them was the type of person to relish causing a scene in a public restaurant.

Her brother Simon had caused enough public scenes for the whole of his family.

Cesare’s mouth tightened just thinking of the other man. ‘I will expect you at the Gambrelli Hotel at seven-thirty.’ Again he made it a statement rather than a request.

He could expect all he liked—Robin would get to his hotel this evening when it suited her, not him!

Pure bravado on her part, she accepted, even as she made the decision to deliberately keep him waiting this evening. Cesare Gambrelli had made it more than obvious that there was no way she was going to be able to avoid seeing him again, so what was the point in antagonising him?

It would make her feel better—that was the point!

If she could feel better about anything concerning this emotionally charged situation.

But, whatever time her father returned this evening, she intended speaking to him before she went out. Not with the intention of telling him about Cesare Gambrelli’s visit, or his threats, but out of a need to know exactly what her father had meant by his warning that Cesare Gambrelli was dangerous.

Not that she doubted the claim for a moment. She now knew for herself exactly how dangerous he could be!

‘Eight o’clock would probably suit me better,’ she told him bravely.

He shook his head. ‘That is far too late, I am afraid.’

Robin very much doubted this man was afraid of anything! ‘Too late for what?’ she prompted warily.

‘Marco, of course,’ he drawled. ‘He is usually in bed by eight o’clock.’

Robin stared at him uncomprehendingly. ‘You have Marco here with you in London?’ she finally voiced weakly.

‘But of course,’ Cesare answered her. ‘Where else would he be but with me?’ He quirked dark brows challengingly.

Where else? Robin mentally echoed faintly. The prospect of having dinner with this man hadn’t been all that alluring in the first place. But this was worse, so much worse, than she had even imagined.

She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to meet Marco just yet—’

‘I am sure that you do not think it a good idea for you to meet Marco at all,’ Cesare returned speedily. ‘I am well aware that you have no experience with children, Robin,’ he added. ‘But it is a lack of knowledge you will have to overcome. And quickly.’

Robin was startled by this pronouncement. No experience with children.? Obviously, as the youngest sibling in her own family, she hadn’t had an awful lot of experience with young children, let alone babies, but she would have loved one of her own.

‘Well, it’s true that I haven’t been around young children much …’ she began.

Cesare eyed her knowingly. ‘Your marriage to the Honourable Giles Bennett was childless. Which was surprising since, being the heir to his father’s title, he needed children to continue his line. Maybe he divorced you because you refused him on that score? Perhaps, like many young women, you hoped to put off pregnancy and hang on to your freedom as long as you could?’ He looked down at her with dark, searing eyes when he saw the way her expression visibly fell. ‘But it is time you settled down now. You will soon overcome your selfish needs when you become my wife and Marco’s mother,’ he finished.

It was completely against Cesare’s culture, and his own nature, not to cherish and adore children, and he had no sympathy with anyone who did not put them first.

Having set out to find out about Robin Ingram and Giles Bennett’s divorce—and succeeding—Cesare knew his resolve to make her his wife, the mother of his children, had only deepened.

Although he hadn’t quite expected such strong resistance from Robin to meeting Marco.

Not all women were maternal, he accepted that, and some took longer than others to settle down to motherhood. But somehow he didn’t think that was really the case with the deeply responsive Robin Ingram.

She had obviously loved her older brother very much, and her affection for her father was unmistakeable, so perhaps it was that she feared pregnancy and childbirth?

Whatever her reasons for not wanting to get on and have babies, she would get over them.

Because Cesare expected—fully intended—her to mother his nephew and to produce a brother or a sister for Marco within the first year of their marriage …

CHAPTER FOUR

‘YOU ARE LOOKING very beautiful this evening,’ Cesare complimented Robin formally, as he ushered her out of the private lift that opened straight into his hotel suite at seven forty-five.

Robin eyed him distantly, having deliberately adopted her role of cool and unattainable by wearing a simple black dress that covered her from her throat to just above her knees. Her hair was smoothed back from her creamy brow and fastened in a neat chignon, exposing the plain gold earrings she wore, and a simple linked bracelet was her only other jewellery. Her make-up was deliberately light—only mascara, a sheer foundation and peach lip gloss.

After all, she had thought as she’d surveyed her reflection in the mirror before leaving home, she wasn’t going out on a date. This evening was probably going to be just another challenging conversation with Cesare Gambrelli.

And it would introduce her to Marco.

She drew in a deep breath. ‘I hope you aren’t expecting me to return the compliment?’ She dismissed his own darkly attractive appearance in a black silk shirt and black trousers as she swept past him and into the sitting room of the suite.

A penthouse suite, she had discovered after making enquiries at the reception desk downstairs, that consisted of the whole of the top floor of the building, with a private lift to whisk her to its lofty heights.

But what else had she expected? Cesare Gambrelli was one of the richest men in the world, and he could easily afford to keep the top floors of all of his exclusive hotels around the world for his own private residences if he so chose. Which he probably did.