The Orsini Bride

Chapter 9: The Luncheon

A bachelor's life is a fine breakfast, a flat lunch, and a miserable dinner.

-Francis Bacon

Marco Orsini's POV

"...so what do you think of that brunette over there." She discreetly nodded in the direction of the young woman talking animatedly to a group. "She came from a good family. I think she will be good enough to meet your grandfather's expectations."

I have gone long enough to stop listening to the woman beside me who babbled non-stop to every single eligible woman who might be suitable for my quest. She invited me to a luncheon hosted by a wealthy Italian prince.

Honestly, I am not interested in those women but I kept that information to myself. Ever since the day I kissed her in my grandparent's vineyard, Francesca Marcolini maintained our distance. It's frustrating, all I wanted to do was kiss those sinfully delicious lips but managed to slip away as fast as she could.

"Marco?" Francesca inquired a little irritably. "Are you listening to me, Marco?"

"Of course, my dear." I lied smoothly, giving her a reassuring smile.

"No. You are not."

"How cold," I replied, moving closer to her. As usual, she backs away lighting fast, and avoids my gaze. "Why not loosen up, cara?"

"I can't." She whispered while looking down at the perfectly trim lawn. "The reason why we are here is to find your prospective bride."

"I know." I feel like a predator advancing in her direction. I kept reminding myself to take it easy because this is the first time in months that I kissed her that I can monopolize her again. "But take it easy, mia bella. My grandfather's birthday is still far away."

"But..."

"Signora Marcolini." A voice broke our conversation. I took every ounce of my patience not to throttle the bastard as it turned out he's the host of this party.

"Principe Agostini." Francesca curtsied regally. "Thank you for inviting us to your party."

The prince took Francesca's hand and kissed it. I nearly leap at the old fat prince when his lips linger a little longer to Francesca's delicate hand for my liking. "Are you enjoying the party, my lady?"

"Of course," She answered conversationally. "It's fantastic as well as your home, sir."

The prince had laughed loudly as if Francesca's answer was so witty. "How clever, Signora. I believe I don't believe you introduced me to your date."

"Pardon me for my rudeness, sir. May I present Marco Orsini." She performed the introduction, slipping her hand to my arms. "Marco, this is the respected Prince Vittorio Agostini." I hid my smile. The formidable woman seemed to be also leaning for support when meeting an intimidating person like this one—not that I am intimidated with him.

I am the great Marco Orsini who never bowed to anyone.

"I heard a lot about you, Signore Orsini." The prince offered his hand with a wide-ginned smile on his old face.

"Likewise," I answered. I heard a lot about his womanizing and vices. Like the woman in his arms right now. She's probably half the age of this old prince. The woman wore a show-stopping dress and draped with diamonds it was enough to blind me when it caught with the sunlight.

The prince never failed to show off his wealth with his current mistress.

"Excuse us, will you?" The prince had inquired. "I have other guests to look after."