Читать книгу Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 101

TINA’S breath was a solid ball in her chest. It sat heavy and thick and she couldn’t force it in or out for a long moment.

“You look surprised,” Nico said mildly.

Surprised? It was too mild a word for what she was feeling right now.

“I can’t marry you, Nico,” she choked out.

“Why? Because your brother won’t approve?” He made a sound of disgust. “He won’t approve of you being pregnant, either. If you cared about his approval, you would not have slept with a strange man that night.”

It was too close to the truth, but it angered her nevertheless. “I suppose I deserve that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you don’t love me. I won’t marry a man who doesn’t love me.”

She didn’t know quite where that had come from, but the moment she said it, she knew it was what she felt.

His eyes glittered in the candlelight flickering brighter now that dusk was deepening. “Then you should have thought of that before you spread your legs for me.”

Tina gasped, stung by his cruel words. “That’s not fair. Women are allowed to take lovers without wanting to marry or have babies with the men they choose.”

“Yes, but they are typically more prepared than you were that night.”

Her cheeks were aflame. “Oh, yes, it’s all my fault, right? But I’m not the one who used a faulty condom.”

“And I’m not the one who chose a random stranger for my first sexual experience. You were lucky you got me, and not someone who might have treated you with less delicacy than the situation required.”

“Well, bravo to you then,” she snapped. “But I’m still not marrying you. There is no reason for it.”

“I can think of a few reasons, not the least of which is that I’m not giving you—or your brother—a chance to change your mind about letting me be a part of the child’s life.”

She bowed her head demurely, though her heart was racing a million miles a minute. “I understand why you’d think that, but we can have papers drawn up. I’ll sign anything reasonable. We’ll make sure everything is spelled out.”

He threw his head back and laughed, and a feeling of foreboding ricocheted through her. “How perfectly civil of you, cara. But this is not a negotiation. I don’t trust you or Renzo. There’s nothing you can say, nothing you can promise, that I will believe.”

“I give you my word,” she said.

“Your word means nothing to me.” He shook his head, leaned toward her and trapped her hand in his. “No, you will marry me, and just as soon as possible.”

Tina thrust her chin out defiantly, though her heart hammered and her insides churned. “Even you cannot compel a woman to marry you because you decree it,” she said sharply. “I won’t do it.”

His eyes narrowed. “How selfish you are, cara. You would deprive this child of my name? Of my status? You would allow him to grow up without a legal right to my legacy? Do you think he will thank you for it someday?”

Her heartbeat slowed as his words twisted in her brain. God, she hadn’t thought of that. She’d grown up with her mother’s name, just as Renzo had, and they’d been just fine in the end—though it hadn’t always been easy. There’d been no estate to inherit, no vast sums of money to distribute among heirs. There’d been nothing at all, until Renzo made his fortune.

“It’s not about money,” she said with certainty. “I have money, and our child will want for nothing.”

Not only did she have the money from her trust fund, but she’d also been investing a chunk of it over the years. She now had quite a handsome sum that was all from her own hard work. Her brother might not let her work for him, but she did work—managing her money—and she did a damn good job at it, too.

“I went to boarding school, Tina. I know what it was like. Those girls would have made your life hell, and a big part of that would have been your lack of pedigree. Do you want that to happen to your child?”

Fury vibrated through her then. “I won’t send my baby away to school, you can be sure of that.”

“It’s not only school, though, is it? If you want this child to have every advantage, to have doors open for him and to be accepted everywhere, then you will see that marrying me is the only way to achieve that.”

She wanted to press her hands to her ears. “You make it sound so medieval, and yet this is the twenty-first century.”

“People are not so changed, though, are they? Especially not in my circles.” He leaned forward and trapped her hand where it lay on the table. She tried to pull away, but his grip was as solid as the stone cliffs in the distance. “But there is another, even more pressing reason, darling Tina. If you do not agree to this marriage, I will destroy D’Angeli Motors.”

A layer of ice coated her heart. Fear pumped into her in waves. “You cannot,” she said, proud that her voice did not break. “If you could, you would have already done so.”

He let her go and sat back. “You forget, cara mia, that I am a much richer man than I was only a few weeks ago. And I will use that wealth—and the power that comes with this title—to destroy your precious brother if you do not agree to marriage.”

Horror seeped into her then. She thought of Renzo, of Faith and baby Domenico, and a wave of guilt swept her. Renzo was happier than she’d ever known him to be now that he’d found Faith. He laughed a lot more these days, and he no longer risked his life on the track. His leg was also on the mend now that the surgeons had removed the scar tissue that had built up over time, and he would very likely be walking without a cane once it healed.

He had everything. How could she put his happiness at risk, especially when she’d created this mess by indulging in a single impulsive act solely for her own pleasure? Renzo had done everything to make sure she had a good life, and this was how she repaid his generosity?

“You are really very cruel, aren’t you?” Tina asked, her heart throbbing with fury and hurt.

Nico’s expression didn’t change, though she thought the corners of his mouth tightened. “Life is cruel,” he said. “I am merely doing what I must to protect my child.”

“Our child.”

“Yes, our child.” He said the words plainly enough, and yet there was an inflection there, an unspoken threat. Our child if you do as I say.

Tina shivered. It did not go unnoticed.

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” she said, unwilling to admit that her shiver was born more out of apprehension than the breeze.

“Then let us go inside.”

He came and held out a hand to her. She didn’t accept it, pushing herself to her feet without his help. He didn’t move away, however, and she found herself trying to take a step backward.

The chair stopped her. He was so close. Too close. She could feel his heat crawling into her, surrounding her. His scent filled her senses, spice and man mingled with the aromas of leather and wood.

Heat blossomed in her belly, flowed like a river of syrup into her limbs. She felt as if she’d been drinking when she had in fact not had a drop. He did that to her, had done from the first moment she’d met him on the docks outside the palazzo in Venice.

No, he’d always made her feel funny, though when she’d been younger it had only been a hot, hollow feeling right beneath her breastbone. She’d crept into the garage to feel it, to gaze upon him and daydream.

How deluded she’d been about him. How very, very naive. He was not her dream man, not the husband or lover she could have wished for. He was arrogant, cold and very determined to get his way, no matter the consequences to anyone else.

She despised him. And her body wasn’t getting the message. Her body was zinging with sparks, melting, aching. Wanting.

Tina sucked in a sharp breath, reminding herself why she couldn’t allow that to happen.

She could never allow it to happen again. He’d consumed her the last time, and she’d willingly let it happen. She’d only panicked when she’d known who he was, not because of what had transpired between them. No, she’d been half-ready to do it again, but she’d let her curiosity get the best of her.

If only she’d never removed his mask!

Tina’s first instinct was to drop her gaze from the intensity of his, but she forced herself to look him in the eye. Unflinchingly.

His gaze sparked. Heat spread through her body.

“I won’t marry a man who threatens my family,” she said firmly.

One eyebrow arched. She had the impression he was mocking her. “Oh, yes? Originally, you said you wouldn’t marry a man who didn’t love you. Which is it, Tina? Love or duty?”

Tina stiffened. “I won’t be compelled against my will.”

His expression was doubtful. His gaze dipped, lingered on the scoop neck of her tank top before drifting back up to meet her eyes. “I think you shall, cara. If you value the things you claim to.”

“You are very certain of yourself,” she said, her breath hitching in her throat.

“Indeed.”

“Renzo is not an easy mark, and you know it.” It made her feel confident to say so, but the truth was she had no idea.

Nico’s smile was lethally smug. “Do I? And what if I don’t care, bella mia? What if I am willing to do anything it takes to win?”

“Even immolate yourself in the process?”

He looked thoughtful for a brief moment. “Perhaps. Are you willing to risk it?”

“Are you?”

He laughed at her. “Allora, we shall get nowhere if we talk in circles. Come.”

He put his hand on her back then and ushered her inside, through hallways and rooms she hadn’t seen earlier. The castle had been modernized, but the rooms were still magnificent. Huge vaulted ceilings soared above her head, painted with frescoes that gleamed with bright blues, deep greens, vibrant reds and creamy flesh tones. The floors were inlaid marble mosaic, punctuated with intricate patterns of lapis and gold, porphyry and malachite.

The old wooden panels lining the walls gleamed with oil and care, and lush sheets of silk damask hung over the floor-to-ceiling windows that she knew would look out on the cool blue beauty of the lake when it was daylight.

She didn’t realize he was leading her to her room until he stopped in front of her door. Tina dropped her gaze from his, cursing the timid side of her nature for kicking in when she wanted to face him down like a lioness protecting her brood. Her heart kicked up again at his proximity, at the intimacy of standing in front of her bedroom door with the only man she’d ever shared a bed with.

“Defy me if you wish, but you will realize there is only one choice in the end. You will do the right thing for Renzo and his lovely Faith.”

“One choice is not a choice,” she replied, her jaw aching with the effort it took not to scream at him.

He shrugged, arrogant and unfeeling to the last. “You can choose what is right, or you can choose to let me compel you into it. Either way, you will do what I wish in the end.”

“How very generous of you,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I wonder that you even pretend this is a choice.”

He laughed, startling her with the rich sound in the dark and quiet hallway. “You amuse me, cara—defiant to the last. I can hardly reconcile this with the girl who couldn’t speak to me without turning red.”

“I was a child then. I’ve grown up now.”

His gaze slipped over her. “You have indeed. Quite delightfully, I might add.” Before she knew what he was planning, his long fingers came up and gripped her chin, holding her head up high for his inspection. “There is a connecting door between our suites. Should you desire a repeat of Venice, you have only to open the door and come inside.”

Her heart throbbed in her ears, her neck. Surely he could see her pulse beating. Tina swallowed hard. “I don’t,” she said. “Never again.”

She could see his teeth flash white in the dim hallway. His handsome face was so close, the hard angles touchable. Kissable. No.

“Never say never, sweetheart,” he told her. “You will lose if you do.”

“I hardly think so,” she said haughtily.

His head dipped swiftly, and she closed her eyes in reaction. She could feel his breath on her lips, and she shivered with anticipation even while her brain struggled to catch up.

“I think you lie to yourself,” Nico said, and then he laughed softly as he pulled away.

Tina’s eyes snapped open as her brain finally engaged. She took a step backward, thudded into her still closed door. She’d thought he was going to kiss her. And she’d wanted it.

Fire burned her from the inside out—but was it the fire of shame, or of desire? “I don’t want you,” she said firmly. “I don’t.”

His smile mocked her. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better. But we both know it’s a lie.”

Nico sat in the dark with his laptop and went over the figures again. Then he sprawled back in his chair, raking a hand through his hair in frustration.

Even in death, Alessio Gavretti had the power to irritate him. More than irritate him, apparently.

Nico swore softly. He’d spent years trying to impress the man who wasn’t impressed with anything—unless it wore a very short skirt and had very large breasts—but his father had always treated him with a cool indifference that had been the hallmark of his personality.

Nothing Nico ever did made a dent in his father’s reserve, though the man had come to his races a few times. Nico had been the impetus behind Gavretti Manufacturing in the first place, though it hadn’t been his original plan when he’d first gone to his father to ask for support. No, he’d wanted to back Renzo—but his father wouldn’t hear of it.

“Why should I invest in this man’s business when you are perfectly capable of starting your own business, Niccolo? No, build the motorcycles yourself, but do not ask me for money for another.”

Nico frowned. That had been a pivotal moment in his life, though he’d not realized it at the time. He’d built the motorcycles, when he’d realized he had no other choice, and he’d lost the only friend he’d ever truly had. It still hurt in places he didn’t like to examine, and for that he blamed the woman in his guest room. Without her, he wouldn’t be thinking about this so much tonight.

He’d spent so many years not having a conscience that to be reminded it had not always been the case was more unsettling than he would have liked.

He shoved himself upright and went through the open door onto the balcony. It was quiet outside, dark. He welcomed the solitude. The scents of bougainvillea and lavender filled the air, and far below him the waters of the lake lapped at the rock upon which the castle stood.

It was peaceful. And it made him desperate, as well. He could lose it all if he didn’t figure this out.

He’d had no idea, until his father had died and the estate had fallen into his hands, just how much of a tangle it was in. Alessio Gavretti had spent money like he had a printing press in the basement—and so had Nico’s mother.

They’d separated years ago, but never divorced. His father spent money on women, and his mother spent it on clothing, jewels and homes. Over the years, they’d managed to rack up an impressive roster of loans and long-term debts. It was as if each one had been trying to outdo the other.

Now Nico had to somehow manage to keep the world from knowing how close the Gavretti fortunes teetered to the brink.

He wanted to laugh at the irony. He’d threatened Tina with ruin for her brother if she did not agree to marry him, and yet he was the one who could be ruined if knowledge of the estate’s financial matters became public at the wrong moment. He did not doubt that Renzo D’Angeli would snap up Gavretti Manufacturing and sell it off for scrap.

Nico didn’t blame him. In his position, he’d do the same—and without a shred of remorse, either.

Nico leaned on the balustrade and peered at the lights of the village in the distance. He couldn’t let it happen, and he damn sure couldn’t let Tina refuse to marry him. Without a marriage, he would have no claim to his child, especially if she refused to publicly acknowledge him as the father, no matter what she said about papers and signatures.

And why did that matter so much?

It wasn’t as if he knew the first thing about being a father, or even that he had latent fatherly instincts coming to the fore. Nor had he wanted a wife or a child to interfere with the way he ran his life. He was free, unencumbered by entanglements, and uninterested in changing the way he lived.

Yes, if he were to let her walk away, he could work on saving the Gavretti estate and think about finding a proper wife later.

Nico snorted. What was a proper wife? His mother had been a proper wife, hand-selected by his father’s family, and look how that had worked out. Two bitter, selfish people who’d produced one child and then used that child in their feud against each other.

Anger ate at him, burning in his gut the way it always did when he thought of his parents and the empty childhood he’d had. Oh, he’d had everything money could buy, but he’d lacked the one thing it couldn’t: love.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to the D’Angelis. There had only been the three of them, but they’d had enough love in their home to fill him with its glow simply by association.

He glanced over at the glass doors that led from Tina’s room. They were shut, the curtains drawn, but there was a light on inside. The light of the television flickered in the gap where the curtains hadn’t quite come together all the way.

A wave of longing filled him, stunning him with its potency. He wanted to walk inside there and take her in his arms again, fill her body with his and shut out the world. It was melancholy and stress getting the best of him, he knew that, but it made the feeling no less powerful.

If he were still in Rome, he’d head out to a club for a few hours, call one of the women on his contact list. He’d engage in a night of wanton sex and wake up refreshed and ready to tackle his problems again.

Love had nothing to do with it.

No matter how much he might have longed for his parents’ love, or how much he’d admired the D’Angelis’ wealth of it, he knew that love was ephemeral in his world. He’d grown up in a family who loved themselves more than each other, and he expected that was how his life would continue. He was thirty years old and he’d never felt even a glimmering of love for another person.

Until the moment Valentina D’Angeli had walked back into his life and told him she was expecting his child. He didn’t kid himself that he’d fallen into instant and overwhelming love with this baby, this collection of cells growing in her body, but something had happened.

He’d felt as if she’d punched him in the gut, and the feeling hadn’t abated over the past few hours. He didn’t know what it was, but he wasn’t letting her walk away. He hadn’t intended to marry her, but in the end he’d realized it was the only way.

Aside from ensuring him access to his child, marrying Tina would give her brother pause. If Renzo did get wind of Nico’s financial troubles, he would think twice about ruining the man his sister had married.

Mercenary, yes. But Nico damn well didn’t care. He’d been mercenary for so long now that he couldn’t bother growing a conscience for one woman. No matter how she tugged at long forgotten memories of acceptance and hope.