Amanda
Marco's Malibu mansion was not at all what I thought it would be. Compared to the white contemporary and incredibly modern glass mansions surrounding us, this made me feel like I was in the middle of the Mediterranean with its red terracotta tiled roof, sunkissed tuscany painted walls and surrounding palm trees.
I knew Edwaed owned a property nearby, he was always in Los Angeles for whatever big shot movie he was filming or model campaign but mostly the women. Edward had a love for American women that made you scratch your head. I guessed that was why he was always in Beverly hills with the next Barbie practically glued to his side.
A large weathered fountain stood proudly in front of the house. Water poured down it matching the atmosphere of the sea as the waves crashed into the cliff the house was nestled on. Marco was old money, generations and generations of his family had always been rich.
Italian royalty if I could say.
I figured that was why he did not care for the 'flashy' aspect of being wealthy.
"Do you like it?" he smiled over at me as he rounded the fountain and parked in front of the grand marble staircase leading up to his front door.
I took off the sunglasses he had given me and smiled, "It is different from your penthouse."
His smile stretched from ear to ear and I wished he was not wearing sunglasses so I could see the crinkle at the corner of his eyes.
I nearly slapped myself at the thought. It was a dangerous game to ever wish anything around Marco. A fool's game.
"I'll take it as a compliment," he chuckled before he climbed out of the car. I opened up my own door and climbed out before he got a chance to walk around. "You deprive me of the opportunity of being a gentleman Amanda."
I cursed the shiver that went down my spine by the way he said my name. He never pronounced the 'a' like everyone else in my name. Instead he always breathed it out that it sounded more like an 'ar'. It was stupid, 'Armarnda' was how he teased me growing up. The female 'Armani' he always used to tease but now it sounded sensual when he said it.
His accent laced in every single letter as if his own tongue found it sensual just to say it.
"You said you wanted to discuss business over lunch," I blinked up to him as I held the roses he had gifted me. "I'm sure you're more serious with other business partners."
"I thought you said this was a lunch date," he effortlessly raised his right eyebrow causing a violent blush to spread across my cheeks.
I blew air through my lips and dramatically waved my hand, "It was a slip of tongue."
He took a step forward and in the most barbaric sense wrapped his arm around my waist, "Maybe we should leave business behind just for a day."
I held the roses up, preventing him from lowering his head and let out a loud laugh, "I need to pee. That drive was excruciatingly long." I let out a nervous chuckled as I wiggled my way out of his arms, "Be a dear and put these in water for me, Marco."
He looked at me for a short perplexed few seconds before he shook his head and let out a low sigh. "Very well," he took the roses from me and led me into the house. It was truly a Tuscany mansion with marble flooring, persian rugs and dark wooden accents with golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
The house was large but by the looks of it, unlike his penthouse it looked lived in. There were family portraits of the Agassi family, personal items like children's drawings which I guessed were from his baby cousins or possibly his younger brother's children. I was not too sure but it felt more like home than a show room and because of that I grew comfortable as he led me through the hallways to the guest bathroom.
"I'll be at the pool," before I could even ask where that was he disappeared leaving me alone.
I took time to freshen up and try to tame my hair that had been tousled by the wind. I absolutely hated convertibles because of the sun and my opinion on them had not changed one bit as I looked at myself.
My skin looked almost red and the sweaty glowy look was definitely not for me. Sharing close proximity with Marco seemed to be the end of me and the constant blush I was wearing did not help defend my case. I looked eighteen again. Hopeful and blindingly smitten by someone who did not blink two times when he saw me.
It was idiotic.
I splashed cold water onto my face before I let out a few deep breaths to calm me before I headed out. It was not hard to find the pool. The slight smell of chlorine was not hard to miss with a blend of the sea breeze.
Marco was walking close to the edge of the pool with his phone pressed against his ear. His facial expression showed whoever was on the other side had bored him to death and his eager sips to his wine was probably to take off the edge building up in his tense shoulders.
When he saw me approach, he ended the call without as much as a goodbye then shoved the phone into his jeans pocket.
"Work?" I smiled already knowing the answer.
"Work," he let out a laugh through his nostrils before he let me to a cream lace covered patio. I sat down as he poured me a chilled sparkling wine and served me an assortment of salami and fresh citrus fruits with different kinds of cheese.
"So what new suggestion has your PR team come up with to sort out the mess you created?" I smiled before popping a piece of juicy salami into my mouth.
He leaned back into his seat, folded his arms across his chest and stared at me for the longest few seconds of my life. When it seemed he had come to a decision he gave him his golden smile then with a carelessness I would have loved to slap him for, said, "Marry me."