Exotic Affairs(140)

Tomorrow she would leave, she determined, as the master arrived at her side. His hand came to rest against her back. His jacket sleeve brushed her bare arm. Her flesh began to tingle as she absorbed the impact of a pure male magnetism that never ceased to excite her, no matter what the mood between them was like.

Her chin was level with his shoulder, her eyes with his mouth. If she turned her head just a fraction she would be able to see the perfectly honed contours that made up his handsome face. But she didn’t even need to move her head to pick up the tangy scent of him, because she was inhaling it with every breath that she took as they walked together towards the house.

Inside was awash with music and laughter. The moment they walked through the door it was like stepping into a different world. It came as a shock—the kind of shock that made Antonia pause and blink a couple of times in an effort to make the transition from hostility and darkness to merriment and light.

Then a cry of delight went up, and she saw their hostess separate herself from the group of people she had been with. In tow behind her was the man she had been married to for a year today.

Tall and dark, handsome and sleek, Franco de Maggio was very much of Marco’s ilk. It should have made the two men natural rivals—but the truth was the opposite. They had known each other since kindergarten and been close friends ever since.

With her long black hair, stunningly beautiful dark brown eyes and dressed in slinky black crêpe that moulded her sensational figure, Nicola de Maggio was everything that Antonia was not. She was Italian, she had money in her own right, and her place beside Franco or another man like him had never been in any doubt from the day she had been born into her privileged life.

She belonged here. To Nicola, being a part of this society came as naturally to her as the inner warmth she exuded, which defied anyone not to instinctively like her simply for herself.

Antonia had liked her from the first moment they met, she as Marco’s very new lover, Nicola as Franco’s new bride. Liking had deepened into real affection since then. They were now good close friends—much like Marco and Franco. Yet Antonia had never ceased to be aware that she was the cuckoo in the nest.

Their smiles were genuine, their greetings were warm—and gave Antonia the excuse to move away from Marco’s touch. On receiving their gift, their thanks were sincere. With a few teasing quizzes on what it might be, it was placed with all the other gifts waiting to be opened. ‘It feels like our wedding day all over again,’ Nicola sighed out happily. ‘Wait until it’s your turn, Antonia, and you will know just how blessed I feel.’

Marco stiffened, Antonia froze. Seeing their reaction, Nicola went quite pale. With a sharp glance at all three of them, Franco swiftly stepped into the breach. ‘I think you should explain how blessed, amore,’ he murmured softly, placing an arm around his wife’s slender shoulders.

And it was a protective arm. An arm that said, It’s okay. Not your fault. I’m here to smooth this out for you. Antonia wanted to run away, because it was as clear as day that Marco wasn’t here to smooth anything out for her.

‘We are going to have a baby!’ Nicola suddenly announced in an anxiously rushed hush. ‘Only we weren’t going to say anything until later…’

She should be smiling, bubbling over with delight, but she couldn’t because she was feeling so uncomfortable after what she’d said. So, pulling herself together, Antonia did it for her. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful news!’ she exclaimed, and smiled—my God, how she smiled. She smiled as she hugged Nicola, and smiled as she kissed Franco’s rather grim cheek. She even smiled up at Marco, though she wanted to hit him rather than smile at him.

His arm found her waist and he drew her close again. It was such a brave gesture, considering Nicola had just turned him to stone in horror. He even found a light rejoinder. ‘Dinner next week,’ he insisted. ‘Just the four of us to wet the baby’s head.’

I won’t be here next week, Antonia thought, and smiled through that little knowledge also.

‘You do that after the baby is born!’ Nicola protested.

‘Then we will wet the waiting mamma’s head,’ Marco compromised, and kissed the waiting mamma’s now smiling mouth.

Between them all a nasty moment had been neatly smoothed over. Nicola was happy again, as she should be. Franco on the other hand looked curious as to what was going on between Marco and Antonia but was willing to hold his tongue.

Thankfully, a new bunch of latecomers arrived, giving the happy couple an excuse to escape. Once again, Antonia moved away from Marco’s touch.