Her Sicilian Arrangement (17 page)

“
I
have no say over my feelings now?” he replied, eyeing her
dubiously.

“
What feelings?” she asked with frustration.

“
We
made love to each other just last night…that must account for
something, does it not?”

“
What? It was only sex for god’s sake.”

“It
wasn’t just sex,
mia tesora
,”
he said, his hands tightening around the steering the wheel. “It
was great sex…sex that made your entire body blush
feverishly.”

She
tried to somehow make the redness, that she knew was then in her
cheeks, disappear but there was no use trying to hide her feelings.
She was pretty sure that Marco Mussolini could see straight through
her as if he knew her anatomy all too well. “Must you?”

“
Subtleness is not an option at the moment, Meagan. When it
comes on to what we shared only hours ago, I intend on threading
the raw imageries of our lovemaking through that stubborn mind of
yours. And as much as I know you would love to avoid the topic, I
will keep bringing it up because unlike you, I am not afraid to
admit that I did enjoy it and would so much love to do so again
very soon.”

Meagan gasped at his words and then looked through the window
trying to decipher the parts of his words that she was sure she had
really heard him say. “It should have never happened. Especially
the way it did. Neither of us wants a baby.”

“Speak only for yourself
, tesora
.”

Meagan glared at him with utter deceit that she knew that she
would not have been risking her own life; she probably would have
tightened her hands around his neck and just kept on squeezing.
Okay, maybe I wouldn’t! She thought. “Do you think this is funny?
If you want a baby, go fetch some whore off the
streets!”

“
Said the woman who agreed to pretend to be my fiancée just for
a story to be published in her precious magazine.” And as soon as
he said it, he was already feeling regretful that he had. He was
only trying to hush her ranting mouth. He sighed lowly to himself
and then glanced sideways to greet her shocked expression, her eyes
damp with tears.

“
No—no—no—no—no!” she gasped, emotion clogging her throat. “You
do not get to call me a whore! I want to go home now…don’t even
bother with the story. I won’t do this anymore. Please, just leave
me at a nearby pharmacy and I will see my way back home from
there!”

Marco swore nastily beneath his breath in Italian and kept his
eyes locked on the free traffic ahead of him. What had he done? He
had allowed himself to let loose on a complete and utterly stupid
moment of arrogance which now seemed now to have destroyed
everything he had been trying to construct for days…days. How
foolish of me! If he still had not his wits about him, he probably
would have hit his head hard on that steering wheel. Call him
ludicrous…but—well, that was exactly how he felt at that
instant.

“
I
didn’t mean that. Meagan, look at me—I’m sorry!” he tried to
explain but she had already placed up a shield, blocking him from
ever reaching her heart again.

“There
!” she
shot out loudly and pointed at a building ahead of them. “There’s a
drug store! Let me out!”“Just calm down. We can—.”

And
before he could even manage to finish his sentence, she spun around
and gave him a rather heated look that he felt as if it was burning
large cruel holes through his flesh. “Stop the car…Now!”
Marco had no choice but to
submit to her request. As much as it pained him to let her go—he
really didn’t want to and he terribly regretted his words—he had
to. Perhaps, he had always known it would have boiled down to this.
He then pulled over to the curb near the pharmacy; saw her stretch
her hand out to him as he placed the money in her hand and ten
jumped out of the car in a flash.

Why
was he even letting her walk away? He had to admit, for a man who
always enjoyed the sensation of constantly winning at whatever he
undertakes, losing pretty much sucked! And he did not like the
feeling one bit. But what would be better? Allow her to get away
and never look back or run after her and grovel? Both seemed like
such a dilemma but he had to choose. Marco sat in his seat, his
head held low on the steering wheel feeling as if his body had
transformed into a boiling pot of emotions; his blood was the
heated water.

Marco raised his head and stared at large glass door that she
had entered through.
Oh, to hell with my pride!
The thought struck him fiercely and then removed his
car keys, and then left the car. He knew that what he had said to
her was absolutely uncalled for and especially because of that, he
wanted to make things right again. And without even hesitating, he
moved his long legs swiftly and entered the store. His eyes
searched busily in the room but he could not find any sign of her.
His brows knitted in a frown and he turned around to face the male
cashier who was then staring at him as if he had seen a ghost…well,
Marco would not have held that against him since at that very
moment he did, in fact, feel like a ghost! He felt incredibly
un-alive at that moment…and cold—but perhaps that was only because
of the air conditioning in the store.

“Signor
Mussolini?” the elderly man questioned and then cleared his
throat viciously. “Um…it’s a pleasure to have—to have
you—here!”

“Sí
…,” Marco
muttered but kept his eyes searching the room. “Uh, a woman came in
here a few minutes ago…she has very dark brown hair, green eyes—and
she’s about this height.” Marco raised his hand to his the base of
his shoulders. “Where did she go?”

“
Oh,
yes! She, um—she bought contraceptives…she asked me to the use the
restroom. She hasn’t come out—as—as yet,” he stuttered.

“
Where is it?” he asked, beckoning the man forward.

“It
is
down the hall
through that door,” the man pointed out for him.

Marco took on one deep breath and then moved into the hall as
the cashier had directed. The hall was well lit with overhead
fluorescent light bulbs. Marco moved further down—the empty pathway
seemed somewhat creepy but he controlled his manliness and then
stopped at the door with the large white sign with red writing on
it, saying : ‘Females Only’. He went over and over in his head
about whether or not he should spin that knob on the door and when
he found himself reaching out for it, he pulled back his hand
quickly. But after taking a few breaths—and he could even remember
the last time he had followed his friends and entered a girl’s
restroom when he was in Kindergarten…and he had gotten a fine
spanking too—he pulled the door open and felt his lips part to
say,

“
Meagan..? Where are you?” he said but there was no answer.
“Meagan, I know you came in here.” Marco felt as if he was entirely
alone in the large wide rectangular room. And it was not until. He
has realized that the restroom was in fact empty that he huffed
furiously. He could not believe that she had tricked him…how could
he had been so stupid?!

Marco paced the room slowly, trying to calculate as accurately
as he could of how—he already knew why—she could have escaped. He
was absolutely positive that he had not seen her exit the store. He
paused in the middle of the room and then sighed when he spotted a
shiny object on the floor. Looking narrowly and dubiously, he
stooped lowly to pick up the tiny blue tiny which he knew was the
earring he had seen her in only a few minutes ago. As he was doing
just that, he spotted a pack of birth control pills lying beneath
the counter where the face basins were. Something was definitely
not right. He could not think of any other way she could have both
without being involved in some altercation. And now, she could be
in trouble and possibly carrying his child!

Marco clenched his jaw tightly, pocketed the accessory and
then moved out of the room. As soon as he returned to the main
store area, he saw the man look up at him with bi shiny
eyes.

“Did
you find her,
Signor
?”

It
took him a while before he answered, and after staring blankly into
space for a while, he responded, “No—um…do you have a back
door?”

“Sí
. It is
further past the restrooms. Is there something wrong?”

At
that moment, Marco felt his cell phone vibrating in the left pocket
of his pants. He retrieved it. Looked at the anonymous ID and then
muttered to the man before leaving the building, “Never mind…”
Marco looked down at the incoming call’s ID for a couple more
seconds, feeling very odd about the entire situation and Meagan’s
sudden disappearance. “Hello?” he answered and then slid into his
car. He could hear heavy breathing and he swallowed deeply.
“Meagan? Is that you? Where are you? Are you in trouble? Talk to
me…”

“
If
you want to see Meagan again, you better listen clearly, Marco,” a
voice came.

Marco was beyond shocked at the sound of those threatening
words but he maintained his cool. “Who might this be?”

“You
are in no position to ask questions. We will meet at the empty
warehouse outside of the harbour in two hours. Listen up…make sure
that you bring two million Euros worth of payment money with you or
else the girl dies. No police…no one but you.”

Marco’s nose flared hotly and he felt like a fool. “Two
million?”

“
Two
million…don’t patronize me. I know well enough that two million
won’t even scratch you!”

He
massaged his temples roughly and then replied, “Let me talk to her.
I want to hear her voice—.”

“Two
hours
!” the rough
masculine voice muttered. “And don’t be late.” The line then
snapped off as soon as he was about to open his mouth and Marco
punched at the steering wheel furiously. He still could not begin
to stop blaming himself about his childish actions a few minutes
ago which had driven the woman he loved straight into the hands of
danger.

Marco frowned. The woman he loved? He loved her! No wonder he
was twisting and turning in his bed that night after making such
passionately good love to her and then finding her to be withdrawn
about something he still could not figure out as yet. And still he
could not forget those wonderful moments they had shared. He had to
get her back—he just had to…even if he had given up all his
money—he could earn it all back—and then break his back and stoop
to his knees to beg for her forgiveness. Two million Euros in two
hours—well one hour and fifty eight minutes—; he had to find that
to safe the woman he was now sure was the right one for him. The
woman he wanted to keep wearing his ring…to sleep in his bed every
night and to bear his children. To bear his children...the thought
repeated in his head till he felt as if he was spinning in a
dangerous yet calm whirlpool.

Marco slid the keys into the ignition and then drove
off—fast—into the streets, looking directly and fore mostly ahead
of him, with every intention of reaching home…maybe to drink down a
few glasses of brandy before he took off to rescue his bride. His
bride! At that moment, he had no time to think. No time to try
figure out who had taken Meagan. He just had to try his very best
at getting her back. He had to.

“Yes?” he answered quickly, as he held his cell phone to his
ear.

“
Marco, its Felipe. I am on my way back to Sicily. I shall be
back by noon. How are you and—.”

“
Meagan was abducted,” he threw at him as if the words were
gnawing at him wits.

“
Abducted? Do you know by whom?”

“
I
have no idea. I’m heading home right now…whoever he is; he’s
demanding two million euros.”

“Dio
mio
! I wish I was
there.”

“
I
don’t. Right now, I could kill that bastard! If you were here,
you’d try to stop me.”

“
Listen to me, the last thing you need is to end up in prison.
Just get her back…whatever the cost may be.”

“I’m
listening…I will see you when you get back. And please, do not say
a word to mother or Maria about this. The last thing I want is for
them to get any more worrisome.”

“
This conversation will remain between us, brother. Be careful.
Father would not learn that he has lost his favourite
son.”

Marco rolled his eyes and then muttered a few words of
reassurance to Felipe and hung up. The last thing he needed was for
his family to get involved in a personal antipathy that someone—who
he had no clue of—had against him.

Could it really be Fabio as Meagan had suspected? Marco could
not see how he could have been the one who had been, and still is,
trying to ruin him. Marco refused to believe it and he tried to
search deep into his memory of which person he could have ever
‘done wrong’, without being aware of it, once or twice in his
life.

CHAPTER 12

“
Who
are you?”

Marco’s voice echoed throughout the driveway before his front
gate as he stared suspiciously at the man leaning against the hood
of a red Lamborghini and dressed in relatively tight black leather
pants and matching leather jacket. The man straightened immediately
and then stretched out his hand to him. “I’m here to see Meagan.”
Marco looked down at his hand, ignored it and then averted his eyes
to the man’s face. He was American. What did he want with Meagan?
He moved closer to him, looked him dangerously in the eye and was
about to away when he said, “Wait, I’m Ryan Harper. She’s a friend
of mine. I told her that I might visit her sometime but when I
arrived at her hotel, they said that she had checked out. It wasn’t
until I had seen her on the news saying you two were engaged that I
sought to find her—only to see if she was okay, I assure
you.”