Free Castellano's Mistress of Revenge by Melanie Milburne Page A

It occurred to him then that once he died there would be no Castellano heir to inherit that and every other heirloom his father’s family had collected over the years. Marc had fought so hard to keep every last object in his possession when his business had almost gone under. If he didn’t have an heir when he died everything would have to go to another branch of the family, distant cousins Marc barely knew. He had never really thought about it until now. How it would feel to have no one to pass on the family name. The proud heritage he had built up almost from scratch when his father had toppled emotionally would be lost forever.
    He pinned her gaze with his. ‘Why is marriage such a big thing for you? It’s little more than a piece of paper, or at least apparently it was in your case with Cole.’
    â€˜There were good reasons why that was the case,’ she said, lowering her eyes. ‘Douglas was unable to…to—’
    â€˜To get it up?’ he offered.
    Her eyes flicked back to his, irritation flashing in their grey-blue depths. ‘Sex is not the only basis for a happy marriage,’ she said. ‘Illness or an accident can strike anyone at any time. That’s the whole point ofpromising to love for better or worse, sickness and health and so on.’
    â€˜Were your parents happily married before your mother died?’ he asked.
    She averted her gaze once more. ‘No, but that doesn’t mean good marriages don’t exist. Even people who are completely different can make a wonderful go of it. My sister and her husband are a perfect example. Serena is incredibly shy and Richard is at ease with people and very outgoing. They make a lovely couple in every way.’
    Marc felt a frown pull at his brow as he sat watching her. The sunlight on her blonde hair highlighted its naturalness, the soft waves framing her face making her look like an angel. He had missed the sound of her voice. He hadn’t realised until now how much. She had a softly spoken voice, her fluency with foreign languages giving her a cultured accent that was mesmerising to listen to. She could have read her way through the phone book and he would have gladly sat and listened for hours.
    He gave himself a mental shake and took a deep sip of his coffee. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said. ‘But then opposites attract. Like us, sì ?’
    â€˜You seem more intent on attacking me than attracting me,’ she put in with a testy look.
    Marc put his cup back down, his mouth tightening at her jibe. The truth was he was deeply ashamed of how he had inadvertently hurt her by kissing her so savagely.
    â€˜I don’t suppose people will take our reconciliation very seriously if we are forever sniping at each other,’ he said, offering her a croissant.
    She pushed the basket back towards him. ‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I just want coffee for now.’
    â€˜You haven’t even touched it.’
    â€˜I’m waiting for it to cool down.’
    â€˜You should eat something,’ he said. ‘You look thinner than when we were together five years ago.’
    She gave him a flinty look. ‘Yes, well, after the little strip show you insisted on last night you could probably calculate my weight to the nearest gram.’
    Marc suppressed a smile at the memory which had kept him awake for hours last night. He had enjoyed every second of seeing her in just her bra and knickers and he couldn’t wait to see her in even less. ‘I know it is supposedly fashionable to be bone-thin, but personally I like a little flesh to hold on to,’ he said.
    She rolled her eyes in disdain. ‘If you think I am going to stuff myself full of sugar and fat just to please you then you will be waiting a long time.’
    â€˜Are you on the Pill?’
    Ava blinked at him, hastily trying to reorient herself before she answered. ‘Yes, not that it’s any of your