The Wedding Charade. Melanie Milburne
as if he had been snap frozen. ‘What did you say?’ The words came out slowly, menacingly.
Jade took a sip from her glass, looking at him from beneath her lashes. ‘The press already know about it,’ she said. ‘I gave them an exclusive. All they need now is a photo.’
Nic’s anger was palpable. It rolled off the walls towards her, keeping her rooted to the foot of his bed. Jade fought the instinct to flee. She had been hit before. Her father had backhanded her for insolence enough times for her to know how much it hurt, but her pride would not let her show it. Instead, she gave Nic a defiantly sassy look. ‘If you kick me out I will tell the press about the terms of your grandfather’s will. You don’t really want me to do that, do you, Nic?’
His top lip lifted in a snarl. ‘You trashy, deceitful cow,’ he said.
Jade let the words roll off her. ‘Sticks and stones,’ she said in a sing-song voice as she took another sip of champagne.
Nic strode over and snatched the glass out of her hand, spilling champagne over her lap in the process. She glared at him as she jumped up to wipe off the spillage. ‘You bastard!’ she said. ‘This dress is brand new and now you’ve ruined it.’
His nostrils flared like those of an angry bull. ‘Get out,’ he said through tight lips. He pointed to the door with a rigid arm. ‘Get out before I throw you out.’
Jade tossed her head and put her hand behind her back to unzip her damp dress. ‘You put one finger on me and I’ll tell even more Sabbatini secrets to the press.’
His mouth flattened to a thin line of fury. ‘Do you have no principles at all?’
‘Plenty,’ she said, wriggling out of her dress.
His dark brows snapped together. ‘What do you think you are doing?’
Jade tossed the dress on the floor, raising her chin as she stood before him in black lace bra and knickers and her come-and-get-me heels. For a brief moment she wondered if she had stepped not just out of her dress but out of her depth as well. Nic’s gaze seemed to be seeing through much more than her lacy underwear. She could feel the heat of it all over her skin, inside and out. She could feel a faint stirring deep inside her, a fluttering little pulse that seemed to intensify with each throbbing second. ‘I’m going to have a bath,’ she said, summoning her courage and resolve. ‘Then, once I am freshened up, we are going out to publicly celebrate our engagement.’
He stood there, breathing heavily, his eyes hard on hers, hatred darkening them in a way she had never seen before. ‘I am not letting you get away with this, Jade,’ he warned. ‘You don’t get to screw around with me, do you hear?’
‘What a lovely choice of words,’ Jade said as she sashayed over to the bathroom. ‘But there will be no screwing, OK? That’s not part of the deal.’ She gave him a saucy little fingertip wave and closed the bathroom door, clicking the lock firmly in place.
Nic let out a breath that felt as if it had come out of a steam engine. He was beyond angry. He was livid. He was furious.
He was screwed.
Jade had set him up and he had no choice but to go along with it. He would look a hundred times a fool if the press got wind of his grandfather’s machinations. If he had to marry her, he would do it but he would make sure he didn’t look like a pawn being pushed around.
He clenched and unclenched his fists. He wanted to knock that bathroom door down and drag that little scheming witch out by her long black hair. He had not thought it possible to hate someone so much. Was that what his grandfather had wanted? For him to hate the very air Jade Sommerville breathed? What had he been thinking to tie them together in a mock marriage for a whole year, for God’s sake? It would be torture for him. Marriage to anyone would have been bad enough. He loathed the thought of being tied down to one person for any length of time, let alone the rest of his life.
Look what had happened to his father. He had not been able to remain faithful after the death of Nic’s baby sister, and it had nearly destroyed his mother. Nic had been too young to remember Chiara, but he remembered the years that followed. Both his parents had been absent emotionally, cut to the core over the death of their precious daughter. Nic had run wild for most of his childhood, trying to get the assurances he needed as a young boy that he was still a much loved member of the family. But after losing one child, his parents had lived in fear of losing another and so they had held themselves aloof. Giorgio and Luca had fared better, being that bit older, but Nic knew he had missed out on what so many children took for granted.
Being forced to marry Jade was the worst possible scenario. For one thing, there was no way she would ever stay faithful for the allotted time. No wonder she was proposing a no sex deal. He wouldn’t trust her as far as he could see her.
If he could guarantee she wouldn’t stray, his inheritance would be secured. But the only way to ensure that would be to sleep with her, to make the marriage a real one. To keep her so satisfied she wouldn’t be tempted to play around on him.
He rubbed at his jaw as he thought about it. Bedding Jade would certainly be an unforgettable experience. The blood was already fizzing in his veins from her brazen display of flesh. She had no shame, no limits at all on her behaviour. He smiled to himself as he thought about taking her in a rough tumble of lust. The sexual tension between them had crackled for as long as he could remember. It would certainly be no punishment for him to bury himself deep inside her, to make her scream his name instead of some nameless guy she had picked up in a nightclub.
Jade came out of the bathroom a long time later with her hair piled on top of her head and some damp tendrils hanging about her face. She was wearing one of the hotel’s fluffy white bathrobes. Without her make-up and high heels, she looked young and dainty, her cheeks pink-skinned from her bath. As she moved past him to access her suitcase, Nic noticed she barely came up to his shoulder in her bare feet. Her toenails were painted black. They looked stark against the porcelain white of her skin.
‘What happened to my massage appointment?’ he asked.
She tucked a strand of hair behind one of her small ears without looking up from her open bag. ‘I cancelled it.’
‘You had no right to do that,’ he said. ‘I was looking forward to it.’
She glanced at him as she moved with a bundle of clothes to the wardrobe. ‘I can give you one if you like,’ she said. She hung a skirt and top on the silk-padded hangers. ‘I’m told I’m very good.’
‘I am sure you are,’ Nic said, watching her move back to her bag.
She held up two dresses against her chest. ‘Which one do you think? ‘
Nic had to give himself a mental shake. She was doing it again: sideswiping him with her rapid change of demeanour. One minute the raging virago, the next a little girl playing at dress up. There would be another tantrum soon enough, he thought. ‘The red one,’ he said, striding over to the champagne sitting in the silver ice bucket. He poured himself a glass and sipped from it as he watched her dress.
She did it as if it were a strip show in reverse. She had slipped out of the bathrobe while he had been pouring his drink, but now she was stepping into a pair of black and red lacy French knickers that were gossamer-thin, so thin he could see the waxed clear feminine cleft of her body. His blood pounded all over again, making him uncomfortably stiff. He took another deep draught of champagne but he couldn’t bear to drag his eyes away from her. She picked up a matching push-up bra. Not that she needed any mechanical help in showcasing her breasts. They were beautifully shaped, full and yet pert with rosy-red nipples. She adjusted the creamy globes behind the lace and then shook her head so her hair cascaded down over her back and shoulders.
Nic was fit to explode and he hadn’t even touched her.
‘Aren’t you going to shower and change?’ she said as she moved past him with her make-up bag.
He caught her arm on the way past, his fingers fizzing with the stun-gun effect of her warm