The Orsini Bride

Chapter 7: The Trip

Never go on trips with anyone you do not love.

-Ernest Hemingway

Francesca Marcolini's POV

"What are you doing here?" I stopped dead in front of the building of my penthouse apartment when I saw the familiar figure leaning casually on the door of his Ferrari early this morning.

"To pick you up." He said casually. As he smiled evilly in my direction, his eyes were concealed by a pair of black aviator sunglasses to match his devilishly dark looks.

"Where are we going?" I asked coldly, fighting off the blush that wanted to spread through my cheeks. "I know we have no appointment today."

Marco Orsini grinned wickedly as if reading my thoughts. He looked more of a devil biker today than a businessman with his white t-shirt that hugged his sexy body with a dark leather jacket and dark jeans.

This devil who wanted to claim my soul.

I grimaced. Where the heck did that maddening thought came from? This man—this Marco Orsini, however gorgeous he was with his attire today, will not claim anything from me.

You already let him kiss you last night. The voice inside my head had whispered harshly. Fine, so I did let him kiss me right now and that blasted kiss kept me awake all night wondering how on earth I've permitted him to take liberties on my mouth.

Even though I should be thinking about my husband's cruel betrayal to me last night, Marco Orsini's kiss kept entering my mind.

"All you need to do is ask."

My gaze was snapped back to him dragging me out of my reverie. "Pardon?"

"All you need to do is ask, tesoro." He repeated as he opened the passenger's door of his Ferrari. "If you want another kiss from me. I will be glad to give you any time, Francesca mia."

"When hell freezes over, Signore," I replied vehemently. "Last night was only a moment of insanity on my part."

He barked a laugh. "Oh, if that's the case. I intend for you to have your moment of insanity always. I like the result of it." His eyes were obscured by the pair of aviator sunglasses. It's hard to guess what he was thinking right now. "Get in." He commanded arrogantly.

"I will go not anywhere with you, Signore."

A frown marked on his eyebrows. "Are we back on the 'signore' thing again? I thought we were going to have a first name basis now."

"As I said, I was not myself last night," I answered hesitantly, even though his eyes were hidden from my view I knew that they were busy studying me intently. "I assure you that it will never happen again, Signore."

He smiled wolfishly as if taking my reply as a challenge. "Oh, I wouldn't be sure if I were you, my dear. Because I intend to drag my first name out from your lovely lips before this day will end."

"We'll see about that." I glared at the hidden eyes from my view.

"Get in." He said again.

"I'm sorry," I told him frostily. The faster I can get away from him the better. I don't want him near me. "I have another appointment today, Signore Orsini."

I need to see the real estate agent I contacted last night. I want a new house. I don't want the penthouse I've been living in for the past seven years, which happened to be owned by my hus—Lorenzo. I don't want to stay there thinking over his hurtful betrayals every time I am at home.