Claimed by the Sicilian: Sicilian Husband, Blackmailed Bride / The Sicilian's Red-Hot Revenge / The Sicilian's Wife

‘Because we have no other option,’ he stated calmly. ‘The Press have seen us together—your family—your fiancé’s family have too. From now on we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.’

CHAPTER FOUR

FROM now on we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.

And Amber didn’t like it; not one little bit. It was obvious—Guido could see it in her face. In the way that her eyes shadowed, the tension that pulled her pretty jaw tight, clamped her soft lips together. She wanted out of this—and she wanted him out of her life, that much was plain. But right now he really didn’t see that they had any sort of a choice.

‘And just what sort of a story did you have in mind?’

Her voice was cold and clipped, her tone matching the frost in her gaze, the way that those beautiful green eyes flicked over him, looking him up and down with cool contempt.

Something that she was going to like even less than the thought of them working together. And it was the obvious distaste on her face that made him all the more determined to carry it through.

The idea had come to him when he’d seen her gathering up her skirts and heading down the aisle away from him. Running away from him as fast as she had done that first time—and the burn of rejection had been as bitter and as savage as ever.

He had known in that moment that he couldn’t let her go.

Just moments before he had held her in his arms and kissed her and his body had throbbed with the heated, hungry passion that he had believed was dead to him—long dead. Certainly no woman had stirred that same hot yearning in twelve empty months as this Amber Wellesley—Amber Corsentino—seemed to be able to create in the space of a single heartbeat.

He’d seen her and his body had started to crave everything this woman had once brought him. He’d touched her and that craving had grown into an uncontrollable desire. He’d kissed her and every sense had gone up in flames, unable to bear the torment of being separate from her.

But Guido had to content himself with that kiss. Knowing all the time that he was only stirring up trouble for himself. Stirring up the memories, the needs, the passion that he had thought was long since buried, tamped down hard, hidden under the hard, bitter weight of the feelings she had left him with on the day she had walked out of his life.

Feelings he had spent the past year trying to forget—trying and failing miserably.

And so when he had seen her running away from him once more, he had known, deep in his soul, that he couldn’t let it happen again. He couldn’t let this woman walk out of his life without having her once more.

‘No!’

The only way he could get a grip on his thoughts was to say the word out loud, making Amber blink in shock as she stared at him, green eyes shadowed with confusion.

‘No?’ she questioned shakily. ‘No, you have no story to tell them? Or no—?’

‘Oh, I’ve a story we can give them, all right…’

Suddenly horrifyingly aware of the fact that he still held her close, Guido released Amber with an abruptness that almost dropped her to the ground, making her stagger back in shocked bewilderment, her hand going out to the wall to steady herself.

‘Then tell me!’

‘You’re not…’ Guido began, then caught himself up sharply. What was the point of warning her, letting her prepare herself? She was going to fight him on this, anyway. He could see it in her face. She’d fight him all the way, no matter what she said. So he might as well just let her have it straight and take it from there. At least that way he’d have the advantage of surprise once more, as he had when he’d arrived at the church.

The memory of the way she’d frozen when he’d spoken, the time it had taken her to turn round, was still clear in his memory. He’d been planning that moment for weeks, ever since he’d learned of her upcoming marriage, and it had brought a dark satisfaction to his soul. The sort of satisfaction he wanted to know again.

‘Let them think we’re a couple.’

‘What?’

There was no need to ask what she thought of his suggestion. It was etched into her lovely face, darkening the pools of her eyes above cheeks that had gone white in appalled shock.

‘Let them…?’

‘Let them think we’re back together.’

‘You have to be joking!’

‘No joke.’ Guido shook his dark head emphatically. ‘It’s the only way you’re going to walk out of here with any sort of reputation-and able to look people in the eye. Your chances of marriage to St Clair are ruined…’

‘Thanks to you!’

Guido glanced down at the tight little fists into which she had clenched her hands. He could read in her eyes the way she was tempted to launch herself at him, raise her fist to pound him on the shoulder, maybe even hit him in the face.

Perhaps he should tell her the truth about her supposed bridegroom. If she knew the real Rafe St Clair and the way that the man had been prepared to use her for his own ends, then would she be so quick to attack? Would she fight so hard for him then?

‘You’ve destroyed my life!’

‘No, cara,’ Guido reproved silkily. ‘You did that for yourself when you tried to get yourself a new groom without making sure that you had got rid of the old one first.’

‘You said it was not a legal marriage!’

‘I said we didn’t have any sort of real marriage—it’s not at all the same thing. The marriage you walked out on was perfectly legal, perfectly binding, as you would have found out if you had bothered checking.’

‘It didn’t seem necessary.’

Amber couldn’t believe she had been such a fool. Ever since the day that she had walked out on Guido, she had struggled to put their charade of a marriage behind her. It had been bad enough thinking that Guido had only gone through the ceremony to control her, to keep her in his bed. To find that she had swallowed the idea of it being real when in fact it had just been a fake, set up to deceive her, had twisted the original knife in even deeper.

As a result, she had ruthlessly locked away all thoughts of that day into a sealed compartment in her memory, refusing to let herself bring them out to look at them for any reasons whatsoever. When Rafe had asked her to marry him, she had wondered briefly if she should check on the legality of her first ‘wedding’. But the memory of Guido’s brutal tone, his callously scornful words, had made her flinch right away from even thinking about it.

Fear had added an extra impetus too, she admitted, feeling the sense of horror that had gripped her then take her by the throat once again. If she had found that the Las Vegas ceremony had been binding, then she would have had to admit it to Rafe, and—far worse—she would have had to connect with Guido in order to arrange for a divorce.

Cravenly—and foolishly, it now seemed—she had dodged away from the whole issue and had let herself believe that there had been no earlier marriage to stand in the way of the present one.

‘To tell you the truth, I didn’t even remember our time together,’ she lied in a desperate attempt to protect herself from the anguish that was slashing at her heart. ‘It didn’t really matter.’

She’d got in a knife cut of her own that time, she saw as she watched the flames of dark anger blaze in the depths of his eyes. His jaw clamped tight shut over the flare of anger and a muscle tugged in his cheek.

Hastily she backed away, down the aisle, moving into one of the pews so as to put the strength of the wood between him and her. She felt better that way. He’d never, ever hurt her physically but the emotional anguish he’d put her through had been hard enough to bear. Not that any wood, however strong and solid, was any sort of protection against a broken heart.

‘So you were in such a rush to become a lady that you didn’t care whether this marriage was lawful or not also?’ Guido questioned stiffly. ‘You really should not be so careless about the legalities of your weddings, carissima. Now you’ve lost the title you aimed for…’

‘And the husband I wanted!’

That brought him up sharp. For a moment something new flared in those deep-set eyes. Something that wasn’t anger but something darker and more dangerous even than his fury had been.

‘So I’m supposed to believe that the man himself was what you really wanted in all this? You aren’t going to claim that you loved him, are you?’

Amber’s hands folded over the edge of the pew back, holding on tight until her knuckles showed white under her stretched skin. She knew she was on very dangerous ground here. One false step and she could give herself away completely, putting herself right into her tormentor’s hands and giving him the perfect set of weapons to torture her with.

‘Did you even consider that before you marched in here and broke up my life?’ she demanded, her harsh, tight voice echoing around the high, arching roof of the church. ‘Did it make you pause to think about what you were doing?’