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“Portokáli.”
“How about this?” She pointed to a bunch of bananas.
Marianna frowned. The word didn’t immediately come to her. She remembered cherry and fig and pear and strawberry, but not banana. “I don’t know.”
Lydia laughed. “Banána”
Marianna smacked her head with the palm of her hand. “Of course it is.”
Lydia’s boss, the house manager, Roula, walked into the room with a stern expression. She didn’t speak much English, and Marianna got the impression that the older woman didn’t like her very much. She also didn’t want to get Lydia in trouble, so she reached for an apple and slipped down from the stool, giving the two women a wave before she headed out of the kitchen.
Nico was supposed to be out of the house that morning for a meeting. Which would give Marianna plenty of time to go exploring. On one hand, she felt a little strange going through his rooms, looking at his things. But on the other hand, this was her home now, too. And it wasn’t like he’d told her she couldn’t look around.
“Yeah, like you would have listened anyway,” she muttered to herself.
Nico’s office was as sparsely furnished and decorated as the rest of the place. A bookshelf lined the back of the room, and a huge window sat off the side, showing off part of the lush garden and the path to the beach. The books were mostly nonfiction, lots that appeared to cover economics, the stock market, wealth management, and other such boring topics. No poetry, no language books, no classic literature.
Marianna made a mental note to help Nico expand his reading. She dipped her hand into the pocket of her dress and felt for the smooth edges of the porcelain cat from the bedroom. The morning after her first night, she’d noticed the cat had been turned back to its original position, away from the window. Obviously Nico hadn’t been joking when he said that he was “particular” about his things.
Well, that was going to have to change. She knew she shouldn’t be messing with him. But dammit, she was tired of being ignored! And besides, once the baby was born, eventually his perfectly curated and pristine living space was going to get messy. Really, she was doing him a favor by preparing him early.
If he was going to sit in his office until the witching hour every damn night, then she would do something to make him think about her. She placed the cat in the middle of his desk, facing the computer as if it was working. There was no way he’d miss it.
“Sorry, Nico,” she said, taking another bite of her apple. “But you’re not going to shut me out.”
Chapter Nine
That weekend, Marianna and Nico had their first “event” as a couple. He’d wanted to dodge invitations for and questions about his new wife. Wanted to guard their privacy like a dragon guarding a cave of treasures. But Dion had stepped in.
His friend—who was apparently working hard to shake the title—had decided they needed to host a company-wide cocktail party to celebrate the expansion of their business. Cash was flowing in, Nico’s investments were paying off, and Dion was charming wealthy people left, right, and center into handing over their money. They’d doubled their staff in the past twelve months. Although, Nico wasn’t sure why that meant a party was required—surely successful businesses didn’t waste time on that kind of bullshit.
Nevertheless, Dion had told him he’d better be there with Marianna. Apparently, curiosity and gossip about the new Mrs. Gallinas were causing the staff to be distracted from their work. Nico said that should be cause for discipline, but Dion, as usual, did not agree.
So here he was, in a lightweight suit and dress shoes, waiting for Marianna to come out of the bedroom. He’d asked Helena to take her shopping for something appropriate. Something glamorous. Because if she dared wear that simple white dress with the buttons again he would have a hard time keeping his hands to himself.
And that couldn’t happen.
Sex was a slippery slope, he’d discovered once. Getting familiar with a woman’s body, knowing what turned her on and what made her moan was addictive. It’s why he could never allow himself to learn anyone like that, so he couldn’t be tempted into wanting more when more was the most dangerous thing that could happen. Wanting, wishing—they were things that needed to stay out of the bedroom. Out of his life.
The first night he’d slept on the floor, unable to force himself to leave the room in case she woke up in the middle of the night and had forgotten where she was. But one night on the ground had given him a crick in his neck, so he’d spent last night on the couch in his office after forcing himself to work late enough that she would already have retired to bed.
Not that it had stopped him from sneaking in at 3 a.m. to make sure she was okay…and to return the porcelain cat to its rightful home. Damn her, she was messing with him in every possible sense of the word.
A soft bump followed by the click of heels against tile grabbed his attention. Nico swallowed. Each little sound was like a needle in his brain, activating parts of him that should be dormant.
