Читать книгу Ruthless Revenge: Priceless Proposal: The Sicilian's Surprise Wife / Secret Heiress, Secret Baby / Guardian to the Heiress - Emily McKay, Margaret Way - Страница 17
ОглавлениеWHEN CLIO OPENED her eyes the next morning, there was a hammer and a pointy needle inside her skull, and someone had pulled the silky curtains aside to let in reams of sunlight to punish her with.
Or at least, that’s how it felt.
Clutching her head, she turned to her side and groaned. Tears prickled behind her eyes at the dull, pounding ache through the top of her head.
Her mouth was dry, and her throat parched. She tried opening her eyes again and was about to sit up when a strong arm pulled her up with infinite gentleness.
A whimper erupted from her throat as a blend of lime and aftershave and masculine musk teased her nostrils. It was like a slap to her senses, at once decadent and eviscerating...
Just like the man was.
She stiffened in his hold but he didn’t relent.
Of all the unholy, damnedest things in the world, why did Stefan have to be up before her on the first morning of their ill-conceived marriage? Why couldn’t she have started it by setting an unaffected tone, one that she wanted?
“Buon giorno, cara.”
The honeyed words boomeranged against her skull as if he had shouted them.
Another moan escaped her and a smile curved that sinful mouth.
Thick wet hair fell onto his forehead. His freshly shaved jaw glinted, and he smelled clean and nice and as sinful as the red-velvet cake she had devoured last night.
Bastardo, she mouthed the word that she had heard Alessandra use.
His gorgeous green eyes glittered with humor, his smile so beautiful that her chest hurt.
“Go away,” she said, hiding her face in the pillow, superaware of her messy hair, parched mouth and her old Columbia T-shirt that constituted her nightwear.
“Take this,” he said, opening his palm to a white pill—her migraine medication—and a glass of water in the other hand.
Too far gone with the ache in her head to even offer a token protest, Clio grabbed the glass and ingested the pill. She lay back down gingerly, any sudden movement piercing her head.
His handsome face filling her vision, Stefan straightened the cotton duvet around her and tucked it to her chin. Tapped her nose with his finger, and pushed her hair back from her temples. “Sleep, cara,” he whispered.
Sleep and exhaustion hit her in waves and Clio decided the concern she had heard in his voice had to be a side effect of her medication.
* * *
The next morning, Stefan awoke in his bed with the smell of coffee teasing him awake. It took him a few seconds to figure out why he had a feeling that he had missed something. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, which said eight in the morning. The red digits burned his brain.
He hadn’t checked on Clio in a few hours.
Pushing back the covers, he leaped from the bed and walked through the corridor to her bedroom.
He came to a halt as he found it empty with the bed neatly made up.
The scent of gardenias clung to the air and before he knew it, his lungs were filled with it. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the entrance, a wisp of something keeping him in the room.
A hairbrush lay on the dresser opposite the bed, and a pair of jeans and a silk top neatly folded on the bed.
A strange quiver gripped his abdomen to see the bed empty of her tall, athletic form after seeing her there all day yesterday. She had refused to even eat anything, only asking for water again and again. Silently bearing it as if it were her punishment. Looking at him with eyes wide with shock as he checked on her every couple of hours.
Why are you checking on me? she had asked once, her eyes drugged with sleep.
Did she think him so heartless that she was shocked at such a small act of concern? Had he given her a reason to think differently? Why did he care?
Irritated at how scattered his thoughts were, he walked back to the kitchen, following the smell of coffee.
He came to an abrupt halt at the unusual scene in front of him.
Clio stood at the counter, her back to him, unpacking breakfast, he assumed, from the mouthwatering smell.
She was dressed in dark blue jeans that hugged her long legs from ankles to her trim waist and a sleeveless white silk shirt that showed off her tanned arms.
Her hair fell straight to her waist, a river of ambers and reds, glinting where sunlight struck it.
He watched in rising fascination as she slid the lid off one plastic box, grabbed a fork and popped a piece into her mouth.
Pancakes and maple syrup, mouthwatering bacon and coffee—his favorite meal from back when they had been at university. They had all teased him because he would eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Her face turned toward the French doors, she closed her eyes and let out a long moan as she chewed. A drop of syrup stuck to the side of her mouth and she licked it off with another satisfied little groan. Color suffused her cheeks as she repeated the ritual.
Bemused and turned on, Stefan watched as the pleasure she wrought from the little ritual rendered him stupefied.
The next time she picked up another piece with her fork, it took everything he possessed to not join her and direct her fork to his mouth. Or not to taste the syrup on her lips.
“The suite comes with a butler on call twenty-four hours, Clio,” he said, pushing off the wall and walking into the kitchen. “You don’t have to arrange our meals, bella.”
Her fork clanged on the counter, the tinkering sound of it filling the silence.
She turned and watched him with those big eyes, color climbing up her neck.
The silk blouse was so sheer that he could see the outline of her bra, and the dip of her waist. It was so strange how so many small things about her he observed, his fascination arising from the most mundane of moments.
Like the delicate turn of her wrist and the blue veins there, like the crooked slant of her nose, the way she grabbed her hair away from her face with both hands and roughly pulled it back thrusting her breasts up...
Dannazione, the woman was lethal in how quickly she made him think of sex and skin.
Shrugging, she stepped back as he advanced. “I actually wanted to cook breakfast as a thank-you,” she muttered. “But this state-of-the-art kitchen doesn’t even have sugar and milk. So I walked a bit and grabbed breakfast.”
“A thank-you? Why?”
Her expression was straightforward, her shrug a bit too casual. “For looking after me yesterday.”
“Do they always last that long?” he said, thinking of how she had held her head. For a couple of hours, he hadn’t left her side, a tenderness he had forgotten he had possessed keeping him there instead of ordering the staff to help.
It had been a long time since he had done something so simple and satisfying as looking after someone. He used to do it all the time.
Another of his innate traits that he had buried deep.
“Kind of, yeah.” Another shrug. “This whole week has been very stressful and then I didn’t eat anything the whole day of the wedding and then guzzled down that champagne, so it was kind of like inviting the demons to play inside my skull.”
“Why was it stressful? Didn’t the wedding planner take care of everything?” he said, covering the distance between them.
The closer he moved to her, the heavier his blood flew in his veins. Just the scent of her soap and skin...it set up an instant reaction in him.
Blinking rapidly, she clutched the counter behind her. Which stiffened her posture and thrust her small breasts up.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Why were you stressed, bella?”
“Because I was getting married under the strangest conditions that I ever dreamed of and the beast I was marrying thought I had trapped him into it,” she said, thunder filling her voice.
He grinned. “The beast?”
“Yes. Anyway, I know that our contract doesn’t stipulate looking after each other in case of migraines brought on by stupid decisions and showing concern toward each other, so I’m really grateful to you for—”
“Shut up, Clio,” he said, staggered at how easily she had him swinging from mood to mood, like a damn monkey being operated by a switch.
Just fifteen minutes into the day, he had felt a strange warmth in his gut at the way she occupied every inch of the suite that had always been free of feminine intrusion, had given him unrivaled morning wood just by standing in his kitchen and now he was annoyed as hell.
At her and at himself.
All he wanted to do right now was tear up the bloody contract, pick her up, carry her to his bedroom, and peel that denim off of her slowly, inch by inch until he could touch her all over.
“Is the migraine gone now?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said primly.
Was it his arrogance that rankled at being dismissed so well? Or was it the allure of a woman who didn’t immediately fall for him?
Chewing on that errant thought, he picked up one of the coffee cups and took a sip.
The bitter brew on his tongue instantly reminded him of his home, a home he hadn’t visited in so long. “You found a Sicilian blend in Manhattan?” he said, surprised.
A flush claimed her cheeks at his pointed question. “I know a Sicilian coffee stand. I go there every once in a while.”
“My favorite breakfast and coffee. Grazie, Clio.” Leaning next to her, he tried to corral the various emotions exploding inside. Clearing his throat, he offered her an awkward smile. “Take the day easy. Go to the spa or if you want, I can have the pilot take you to...”
Her face fell. “I have no other machinations behind bringing breakfast for you except to say thank-you, Stefan.”
Beneath the caustic tone there was a thread of hurt that struck a chord in him.
Should he be so satisfied that she cared what he thought?
Even as he had stood under the icy jet of his shower on his wedding night, his shredded control an astounding concept in itself, there had been a strange exultation in knowing that he had been the reason she had drunk.
A sadistic streak that he now possessed apparently, in addition to being a mistrusting asshole.
Dio, the woman was turning him inside out.
“I was just surprised, Clio.”
“Because I brought you breakfast? Is that really such a hard thing to grasp that I would want to do something so mundane for you? Are you going to weigh and give a price to every little exchange between us as long as we are stuck with each other?”
Stuck with each other?
That very phrase riled him up to no end.
He had moved so close to her that he could see the green of her eyes darken, could see the pulse in her neck flutter unevenly, could hear the way her breath fell short. “Dio, bella. Shut up or I swear—”
“Or what? Will you add another clause to the contract that I can’t speak unless you give me permission—”
Grabbing her slender shoulders, Stefan slammed her to him and kissed her. It was the best thing to start the morning with.
With a gasp, she fell against him, anchoring her hands on his chest.
Shaping her head with his fingers, Stefan slanted her mouth and nibbled at it, his desire slowly spiraling out of control.
She tasted of syrup and coffee, sweet and bitter, like fresh desire and old memories all blended together to drive him to distraction. The scent of gardenias entered his bloodstream and teased his senses.
He groaned as she sank her fingers into his hair. Turned into stone as she sank those teeth into his lower lip.
If only he could finish what they started in the kitchen...
He couldn’t think of one reason why he couldn’t take his wife to bed. Or why kissing her first thing in the morning, in a domestic setting that should have given him hives, felt so natural.
* * *
If they continued this way—kissing and nibbling and pressed flush against each other—it wouldn’t be long before he had her trapped beneath him and thrusting into her wet heat on that huge bed in his room.
The thought, instead of scaring her to her senses, painted such a vivid, erotic picture that Clio whimpered against Stefan’s mouth.
The hands shaping her hips and her bottom with a possessive grip instantly relented, a breath of air blowing over her tingling lips. “Merda, Clio. What am I going to do with you?” his ragged whisper snagged onto her senses. “We should have included a clause for this, bella.”
Somehow, Clio found the sheerest thread of self-preservation and hid her face in his shoulder. His skin was like heated velvet—the muscles beneath tensing.
It had been a flippant thing for her to think the thought about including sex in their contract. But to hear him actually say it, to see that he couldn’t think of anything between them as anything but a transaction, it punched her in the gut like a blow she hadn’t seen coming.
Did he really think no more of her than any other woman? And if he did, why did she care?
Before he could enslave her with his mouth again, she moved away around the breakfast bar and leaned against the wall.
Her legs trembled, her breath felt as if it would never be normal again, but she had finally put distance between them. And judging by how his eyes glittered, it was no small feat.
“Clio—”
She pushed away the need in her to one corner, the cascading hurt to another.
“I know that the media focus is going to be on us for a little longer, but I still would like to be more than your arm candy and apparently, ‘the recipient of scorn and envy of a number of your ex-girlfriends’,” she said quoting from one article she had read today.
All she had done was scan the internet for world news as was her habit with coffee. Instead, she had opened the Pandora’s box of Stefan Bianco’s exes and their reaction about his wedding.
It was a long list comprising models, actresses and singers that even a pretend wife could get insecure about.
He frowned, looking at her as though she had sprouted another head. “Mi scusi?”
It seemed walking away from his embrace cost her every brain cell she possessed. The man kissed like he did everything—with absolute dedication. Her lips still tingled, her breasts felt heavy and her entire body was one pealing mass of sensation.
Marshaling her thoughts, she began again. “I’m beginning Phase One of my reincarnation, beginning a life that’s not defined by whose wife or fiancée I am. I have received a couple of callbacks on some jobs I applied to. Hopefully...”
He started shaking his head and her words trailed off. “Not necessary, I—”
“If you make one comment about me mooching off of you—”
Thunder danced in his eyes. “Keep that delectable mouth closed, cara, or I know of a very enjoyable way now to do it for you. Christian told me just last week that the charity the four of us runs needs a manager. I think you’d be a good fit for it.”
Clio blinked and stared. “Are you serious?”
“Dio, bella! Why are you so doubtful about your own abilities? Where is the woman who thought everything in life was a challenge she had to rise to?”
Clio flinched. More at the fact that she had no answer rather than from his tone.
He clasped her cheeks and lifted her chin. His gaze was awash in tenderness. The unexpected gentling of his mouth mocked her doubts. “Yes, I’m serious. I would never tease you about this, Clio.
“Instead of turning your back on all those connections your name brings, instead of turning away from the powerful friends you have, instead of stubbornly refusing your new status as my wife, use them, bella.
“Use them to further your career, use them to help someone who’s never had the advantages we had, use them to make whatever you want of yourself, Clio.
“You’ve already conquered the hardest obstacle by staying the course on what we started, by showing Jackson what you’re made of.”
“But I swore to make something of myself, Stefan. If I—”
“Nothing will come of all the resources and connections of your family and background if you aren’t smart enough to channel them properly, Clio.”
A lightness filling her, Clio wrapped her arms around her waist. She wanted to hug him so bad. But he wouldn’t like it.
“That is, after and if you ever find something on Jackson.”
“I will,” Clio said with utter confidence. “It’s just a matter of time.”
“Then make that time now, Clio. As long as we carry on this pretense, you already have a full-time job of being my adoring wife.”
“Believe me, it’s not easy to remember the adoring part,” she quipped.
With a deft aim, he threw a plastic spoon at her.
The way his eyes lit up, he reminded her of when he had been so carefree and affectionate and open. The memory that smile brought was so strong that she stared at him greedily.
“My board members and their wives are dying to meet you. And my assistant tells me we’ve been invited to several dinners and charity galas, in and out of New York.”
“I should probably charge you for making me into a glorified escort.”
“I think escorts provide other services, bella.” He sent her such a scorching look that Clio should have combusted on the spot. “Are you offering?”
“Do you want to start our fairy-tale marriage with domestic assault, Bianco?”
He grinned and it was like her own personal sun had dawned in the living room, filling her with his warmth inside out. “No, Mrs. Bianco,” he countered smoothly. “I’d like to start it with a kiss from my wife.”
Robbed of speech, Clio stared back. It shouldn’t bother her. It was just a technicality. He was teasing her.
Still, the words clung to her like a physical brand on her skin.
Apparently satisfied that he had shocked her, he forked a piece of pancake into his mouth. The usually scornful curve of his mouth relaxed with a sigh.
“It’s not my fault that they all want to meet you. Apparently, you’re an asset any sensible man would be lucky to have.”
“Of course. Let’s not forget how valuable my blue blood and where I come from are. Because there couldn’t be any other reason in the world that a man would want me, right?”
“Do not put words in my mouth, bella. But I will tell you this because you seem to be forgetting it. It took guts to tie yourself to me, Clio. If you didn’t know it before, you know it now, sì? I will give you nothing but what you have rightfully earned from me.
“Yet you didn’t back off. It took guts to start on the path to reclaim yourself. It took guts to take a stand on what matters to you when Jackson used those filthy words for you.
“You’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for. Now find something on Jackson during the day while you dazzle the world as my wife at night.”
Clio stared at his back, his words ringing in her ears.
He was right. That decision had entirely been hers. But only two days in, she wondered if it was more dangerous than courageous.
* * *
Dazzle the world was what they did and they did it so well that even Clio couldn’t tell where the pretense ended and where reality began.
Charity galas and dinners with influential, powerful men from all over the world, sometimes in New York, once in Hong Kong and once in London—from visiting art galleries to the charity-sponsored schools and shelters all over the world.
And everywhere they went—big or small—the media followed them.
In just a couple of weeks, Clio and Stefan had been almost around the world aboard his private jet and had become the media’s favorite couple to talk about.
Frustrated more than once about hitting a wall with Jackson’s financials, Clio had taken to alternately learning as much as she could about the charity that Rocco, Christian, Stefan and Zayed had set up to help underprivileged kids in so many cities complete degrees through scholarships and find jobs.
The range and scope of the charity stole her breath. It made her immensely proud to learn of the continuing resources and time all four of them poured into it and excited her beyond limit that she could be a part of something so fulfilling.
And wherever Stefan and she landed after their marriage, she wanted to be a part of it for the rest of her life, could see herself carve a path through it.
In a weird twist of fate, she was enjoying the pretend life with Stefan more than she had enjoyed her real one with Jackson for three years, even though it was essentially the same kind of life—jet-setting, networking, showing off, making and breaking deals over dinner and drinks.
The man at the center of it, however, made all the difference.
Being around Stefan was like being caught in the orbit of a star—invigorating and exciting. And it made her never want to leave. Everywhere she went, she saw acquaintances—some she had known through Jackson—but it seemed like a foregone conclusion that, of course, Stefan was the victor in some fight against Jackson, and she the spoils.
She knew she shouldn’t feel pleasure at that so much, but as Stefan had said, Clio was going to take every small victory. Because the one time they had run into Jackson, he hadn’t dared meet her eyes, much less utter a word.
Only the price she paid for that felt increasingly high.
The most luxurious and spacious suite in one of the finest hotels in New York wasn’t big enough for the both of them.
She felt Stefan’s restlessness at being caged in the suite like a physical force, sensed a loneliness that had hardened into a shell around his emotions.
The only time there were flashes of the old Stefan was when one of his three friends was present. It was the only time she saw genuine laughter in his face.
And the more she saw of this new Stefan, the more she wanted to shatter that shell.
Despite knowing that it was the last thing she should be doing, she couldn’t stop from trying. She had already contacted his parents, was counting the minutes to when they would arrive in New York.
Was desperately praying that he wouldn’t throw her out of that suite the moment he saw them.
* * *
“Your wife is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen,” his fifty-seven-year-old accounts manager gushed and Stefan barely stifled the urge to punch the man’s ruddy face. The old lech had already pawed at Clio when Stefan had introduced her.
Smiling at him, which took quite a considerable effect, he turned away from the man, leaving him midsentence.
“Ready to go home?” he whispered, reaching Clio.
Flinching at the palm resting against her lower back, Clio covered up the wariness in her eyes.
Before she could reply, Stefan’s cell buzzed and he checked the identity of the caller.
It was the hospital where his assistant, Marco, was still struggling for his life. His gaze fell on Jackson in the crowd just as he switched his phone on.
Two minutes into the conversation, grief knocked the breath out of his throat. Turned his gut into an aching chasm.
Not trusting his temper, he marched into the balcony and pushed his fist into the wall. Even the pain that radiated from his knuckles and up his arm was not enough to blunt the pain of losing Marco.
“Stefan?”
He heard more than saw Clio’s hurried steps in the darkness, felt her search for his hand. Distress filled her gaze as she pulled his arm to better see his knuckles.
Her gasp resonated in the lush night. “I have a first-aid kit in the car. Let’s go.” He had a feeling she was barely keeping the tears away.
“No,” Stefan roared, pulling his hand away from her. He had no idea what he would say or do to her. “Leave, Clio. Instruct the chauffeur to drive you home.”
The stubborn woman stayed right where she was, a resolute tint to her chin. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me why you rammed your fist into the wall like a—” a catch in her throat “—Stefan, please. Tell me what’s going on.”
“My executive assistant, a man who’s been there with me for ten years, through every up and down, he was swindled by Jackson.”
He saw her disbelief in her stunned look. “This man...he was not just an employee?”
Somehow, she had reached the crux of the matter. “No. Marco...he started out with me when I began investing in real estate. He was so loyal and caring that he became important to me, despite the bastard I became. Strange, huh?”
A small smile curved her mouth. “Not really. How much can you deny your own nature, Stefan?” She looked away for a second. “What happened to Marco?”
“He tried to kill himself and was hospitalized. Today, he died, leaving his little girl without a father. A little girl, bella...and that scum is still free to enjoy his caviar out there.”
Instantly, she threw her arms around him. But Stefan saw how pale she had turned. Saw the flash of guilt in her eyes as if she was responsible for Jackson’s actions. Which was why he hadn’t told her so far.
She had enough burden of her own to carry.
“I’m so sorry, Stefan. I...don’t know what to say.”
Untangling himself from her, Stefan looked away. “He did the same to me years ago, Clio.
“It was a year after Serena left. I had struck gold with a few investment ventures and I realized the luxury real estate market was huge and I wanted a big chunk of it.
“I did extensive research and acquired stock in a small trading company. For months, I slogged round the clock, put everything I had into this one venture.
“In just a matter of minutes, the stock I purchased crashed, all the money I invested in it went down the drain. And I was back at square one.
“It was the lowest point of my life. I had lost everything after Serena left, and to be knocked back like that...it made me question everything.
“If it wasn’t for Rocco and Christian and Zayed anchoring me, if it wasn’t for the fact that my father had always taught me to stand up after one of life’s knocks, that would have been me.”
“I’m so sorry for your friend, Stefan. But that would never be you. God, I can’t even bear the thought.”
“I have to stop him, Clio.”
Nodding, she wiped her cheeks roughly. “We will, Stefan. I promise.”
Just as his arms relaxed around her, just as he found the knot in his gut loosening, she stepped away from him. “I’ll...I will leave you alone. See you later.”
“Running away again, bella?” he asked with a mocking smile. “For days now, you have avoided meeting my gaze. You touch me, you smile at me, you kiss me when we are in public and the moment it’s just us, you...can’t wait to run away. How long are we going to continue like this, Clio?”
Her steps faltered and she looked around.
“I won’t let you turn sex into a transaction, Stefan. I won’t join the leagues of women who have slid into this slot you have for them. And you and me...”
