The Sicilian's Ruthless Marriage Revenge

‘Somehow I do not think so,’ he taunted confidently. ‘But, nevertheless, I have no objection to satisfying your curiosity.’ He gave a terse inclination of his head. ‘In fact, it was always my intention to tell you exactly why it is you have no choice but to agree to marrying me.’

‘I’m all ears!’ Robin came back wearily, wanting this man gone. Not just from the house, but from her life!

She wanted to sit and lick her wounds—her battle scars!—in private, away from this man’s all-seeing, all-knowing gaze.

‘On the contrary,’ Cesare Gambrelli continued derisively. ‘Your ears, though charming, are far from your best feature.’ His gaze moved slowly down to her breasts, lingering there.

It took all of Robin’s will-power not to look down at her breasts too—to check and see if the material had dried enough yet after the caressing of this man’s mouth for her nipples not to be clearly visible.

‘You have ten seconds left!’ she warned through gritted teeth.

He gave a confident smile even as he reached into the top pocket of his jacket, bringing out several pieces of paper that he began to unfold with infuriating slowness.

Robin watched him much as a fly must watch the spider that had caught it in its web. She was sure, from Cesare Gabrelli’s unshakeable manner, that whatever those papers contained he personally had no doubts it was enough to induce her to accept his marriage proposal.

The marriage proposal that hadn’t been a marriage proposal at all, but a statement of intent!

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