Seducing Phoebe (Crimson Romance) (14 page)

“It was, but not in the way you think,” she replied quietly. “I was sad they’d died, but I was also relieved that my time of being cast aside was over.”

Marco sat up a little straighter. He lifted her chin so he could look directly at her. She tried to keep her face blank, devoid of emotion, but as his eyes narrowed slightly she knew she hadn’t succeeded. What did he see? Did he see the fear she felt in sharing this with him? Did he see the shame she felt when she remembered her parents’ death? Or did he see that she still cared for him even though she’d broken things off?

“I won’t judge you if you tell me. You must’ve had a good reason to feel the way you did.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. With that one soft touch on her lips she found the courage to tell him something she’d only ever told to Sophie.

“My parents were so involved in their need for the next great adventure that they often forgot about the biggest adventure other people reveled in, and others longed for — being parents.”

Sitting in his warm embrace was almost stifling her. What felt comforting and secure a few moments ago now felt constricting. Phoebe extracted herself from his hold and walked over to the full-length windows and gazed out at the dark ocean.

She closed her eyes and let the memories of her childhood fill her.

“I think they were happy when I arrived. I have my baby photo album and they looked happy and proud when they held me.” She let out a harsh laugh. “There are many pictures of me strapped to my father’s chest in a baby sling as they hiked through rainforests or climbed up some small mountain. I guess while I was little and easily transportable, I could join in their adventures. The pictures stopped when I started walking. I guess that was when I became a burden instead of fun.”

Phoebe jumped when warm hands enclosed her shoulders. He didn’t close the distance so that she could rest against him, he kept a respectful distance, but she appreciated the comforting touch. In that second she felt cherished and worthwhile. Like she was important to someone. Important to him.

“Anyway, I was left with various friends, and then finally, after we’d moved for what was about the tenth time because they’d forgotten to pay the rent while away, we moved next door to a wonderful lady, Mrs. White, and my life finally had some sort of normalcy to it.”

There was no way she was going to get into any further discussion about Adele White. Talking about her parents had left her feeling raw, and to take it further would expose the rest of the wounds she’d taken pains to patch up.

“I stayed with Mrs. White and her sons while my parents trekked their way through jungles and mountains. Until one day their lust for adventure led them to try deep sea cave diving.” Phoebe stopped and took a deep breath. “They never came back after that adventure. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. Where I was going to go. My parents had no relatives and no real friends to take me in.”

“Did you go into foster care?” Marco asked quietly.

“No, surprisingly my parents had updated their will, and requested that Mrs. White, our neighbor, take me in. I never knew if they asked her if she would be my guardian, or if they just decided on a whim to put her name down.” She swallowed deeply to get rid of the lump in her throat whenever she thought about Adele. “I think it was the latter.”

She pulled away from his touch, walked back over to the couch, and picked up her glass of wine. She took a sip when what she really wanted to do was gulp it down. After she’d taken that fortifying sip she turned and pasted a smile on her face.

“So there you have it, my sordid little secret about how I felt nothing but relief the day my parents died.”

“It’s not unreasonable to feel the way you did, and definitely not something to be ashamed of. I’m sure they — ”

“Don’t even say it.” Phoebe held up her hand to stop Marco. She knew what he was going to say. “You don’t know what they felt for me, so don’t try and make me feel better by saying that in their own way they did love me.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

Phoebe crossed her arms, looking at him in disbelief. “Really? Somehow I don’t think so.”

Marco laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “Fine, yes, I was going to say that. But — ” He paused and grabbed hold of Phoebe’s hands. “What I will say is, you don’t have to feel guilty about resenting them not paying you any attention. As your parents, they should have. And I’m sure, as clichéd as it sounds, they are looking down over you and wishing they could do things differently.”

Phoebe really wanted to believe what Marco was saying. It was so idealistic of him. “That’s very romantic of you to think that, Marco.”

She heard the cynicism in her voice, and wasn’t surprised by it. Her romantic ideals had been trodden on numerous times in the last year or so. Sometimes she wished she had listened to Sophie when she had warned her about John. Maybe then she wouldn’t be feeling this bruised.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a little romantic. You said something to me tonight that I’d never even considered about Tomasso dying.”

He leaned forward and Phoebe held her breath, waiting to see if he would kiss her. She was surprised to feel that that was exactly what she wanted from him. She wanted to feel his lips on hers. His arms around her. When he touched her she forgot everything that was painful.

She closed her eyes as he answered her unspoken wish and laid his lips on hers. A soft touch that lingered for longer than a quick peck, but not long enough for her.

“I believe you do have a romantic soul, sweetheart. You just have to trust yourself.”

Phoebe bit her lip to stop the snort from erupting from her mouth.

Trust
.

It always came back to that one word. He’d talked about the accident, but she kept asking herself one question: would he have talked about it if they’d hadn’t had come across that accident today?

Did she have the guts to ask him that question? Did it really matter? She
had
told Marco about things happening for a reason — maybe their coming across the accident today was what they’d both needed to open up the parts they’d locked away. Neither one of them had been forthcoming with their innermost thoughts. The accident had brought raw emotions to life inside of both of them. There was no point questioning if he would’ve said anything to her. The fact was he had, and she’d felt comfortable in sharing the truth about her parents with him. The world hadn’t stopped and he hadn’t thought her uncaring when she’d said she’d been relieved her parents had died. All that mattered was that they were moving in the right direction.

It was still draining though, and she couldn’t do any more talking tonight. Talking about her parents had always left her feeling raw. She couldn’t trust herself not to fall apart.

Taking a deep breath, she stood and looked at Marco. “It’s been an eventful day. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She didn’t wait for a reply, just turned and walked out of the room.

“Phoebe, wait.” Marco’s voice called out to her and her foot hovered above the first step of the staircase.

Phoebe knew the moment he came up behind her. For the first time her “Marco Radar” had kicked in. Her hand tightened around the balustrade, hoping against hope that she could draw strength from the wood.

She let out a short gasp as his arms closed around her waist and twirled her around. Her hands landed on his chest, the heat from his skin warming the tips of her fingers.

“I’m sorry if I said anything to upset you,” he whispered against her hair. She held herself rigid, not wanting to give into the feeling of letting go and asking Marco to take away her troubles with some mind-blowing sex. “Nothing about today has gone the way I thought it would go. It’s definitely not the way I wanted it to end.”

She pushed against his chest, giving some distance between them. “How did you want the day to end, in my bed?”

“No, that wasn’t my goal at the beginning of the day. My goal was to have an enjoyable day at the beach, have a picnic lunch, do some swimming, and then come home to have a relaxing meal and maybe watch a movie. Get to know each other again. No matter how well I envisaged the day panning out, it was nothing like the reality we experienced.”

When Marco stepped back, releasing her from his hold, Phoebe wanted to reach out and pull him back, bring him closer to her again. As he ran his hands down her face she knew it was her turn to apologize.

“Look, Marco, I’m sorry too. I know I’ve been acting like a right bitch today, one minute warm the next minute being as prickly as a prickly pear.”

“You think?”

She laughed and the tension between them seemed to shatter and fall away. “I don’t know what’s happening between us. I know I’ve never acted this way with you, but this is me at the moment. I’m confused about everything.”

She reached out her hand towards him. Relief flowed through her, like water down a waterfall, when he grasped her hand. “I do need some time to process everything, Marco — that was the reason I came here, remember?”

“Yes I do, and I know me being here isn’t what you wanted, but I know I need to be here. I want to be here.”

Phoebe felt like they were going around and around and around in circles. Both of them saying things and then doing the opposite. In the next instant she was in his arms again and Marco was placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“Go to bed,” he whispered against her lips. “Tomorrow will be better. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

He let her go and she, once again, gripped the balustrade, this time to stop her legs from going out from under her. As she watched his retreating back she was transported back to the night she broke off their engagement. This time he was only walking into another room, not getting into a car and driving away.

Somehow she found that comforting.

• • •

A soft knock on the door woke Phoebe from her restless slumber. She’d tossed and turned most of the night. Dreams of her parents and Marco and the accident had meant that her sleep had been fractured.

Another knock, this time a little louder, had her sitting up and pushing the hair from her eyes.

“Who is it?” The moment she said the words she realized how ridiculous the question was. “Don’t answer that. Come in, Marco.”

The door opened and the first thing she saw was a tray with a pink rose in a slender glass vase. Her vision was quickly filled by the view of a very sexy Marco. His hair was still damp from a shower. He was wearing low-slung shorts and had foregone putting a shirt on. Phoebe clutched the sheet a little tighter, her hands itching to reach out and touch his warm chest.

“Morning. How … ” The words croaked out of her. She cleared her throat and started again. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, how about you?” he asked as he sat on the bed and placed the tray beside her.

She could say she slept fine, but if she wanted things to be normal between them then she needed to be honest with herself and Marco. “I’ve had better nights’ sleep.”

She didn’t move a muscle when he reached out and smoothed a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “I know one thing,” he murmured. “I would’ve slept better with you in my arms.”

Before she had a chance to answer he leaned forward and kissed her. A gentle kiss, but it held so much promise. When he broke the kiss, she took a moment to compose herself. She looked over at the tray beside her to see what he had prepared for her breakfast — fruit and pancakes. She laughed when she saw the happy face drawn in honey on her pancakes.

She quirked her eyebrow at him. “A happy face?”

He laughed with her, albeit a bit sheepishly, and shrugged his shoulders. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Phoebe picked up the plate and the utensils and cut into the smiley-faced pancake. She held out the fork towards Marco’s mouth. “It’s a sweet gesture. Thank you.”

As his lips closed over the fork and took the morsel of food, her stomach dipped and she clenched her thighs as warmth pooled between them.

“Your turn now.”

Marco took the fork from her hand and twisted it to the side to cut off another piece of the fluffy pancake. Her eyes never left his as she took his offering. It was the most erotic thing she’d done, and as they continued to feed each other her need to feel him inside of her rose.

As she fed him the last piece he lightly took hold of her wrist and pulled her gently towards him. She went willingly and laid her hands on his chest, running her hands up until she clasped them together behind his neck.

He lowered his head to hers and she met him halfway, eager to taste him again. Their lips collided and she tightened her hold around his neck. Their lips danced with each other, giving and taking, and she wanted nothing more than to pull him down and let him have his wicked way with her.

She started to lie down when Marco pulled away, his smile rueful as he pressed his forehead softly against hers.

“You’re probably not going to believe when I say this, but this wasn’t my plan when I came in here. I was going to give you breakfast and then leave.”

Phoebe couldn’t deny that when they got within a few feet of each other, sparks flew and they both lost their heads. It had been that way between them ever since Louisa’s christening. They had posed for photos, she holding Louisa, and Marco had casually put his arm around her. With that one touch, her body had come alive and that had been the end of being casual acquaintances.

“I’ve always said that making plans is not always a good idea,” she said. “Invariably they always go off track.”

Silence descended between them, and the sexual haze that had engulfed them only moments ago disappeared.

“Depends on the plans you make and the person you make those plans with. I’ve never regretted any of the plans I’ve made with you, Phoebe.” He paused and took hold of her hand again. “Even our wedding plans.”

Phoebe agreed that when they’d started out she’d been happy with the plans they had been making. Now, however, she realized she wanted more out of the marriage and she wasn’t sure how much Marco would give to her freely. She felt that he would always hold something back and until she was sure he wouldn’t, she couldn’t marry him.