Revelations of the Night Before (7 page)

He would be in her life, and she in his, for as long as they lived. The thought made her shiver—only it wasn’t completely out of fear or anger that she did so.

No, more like excitement.

Tina stopped in the middle of the garden as her legs seemed to suddenly be made of jelly. My God, a baby was such a game changer. A
life
changer. A child was forever. It was such a huge obligation that Tina sucked in an abrupt, sharp breath, heavy with responsibility and unshed tears.

My God
.

What had she gotten herself into? It was too much.
Too much …

Her heart beat hard. She thought of Faith and Renzo, of the baby they both loved so much. She could see the pride in their gazes, the love and the utter conviction they would do anything it took to protect their child. And each other.

Tina passed beneath the pergola and found an outdoor furniture grouping plush with overstuffed cushions. It was a perfect place to curl up and read—or to think.

She sank onto the couch and lay back against the pillows. Tears pricked her eyes. Such a mess she was in. Nico didn’t love her, nor she him, but they’d created this life together. This tiny life that would need so many things from her.

Certainly she could hire a nanny. She could buy her own house and hire around-the-clock care for her child. She could do this alone, she didn’t doubt it.

But was it fair to her baby to make him or her shuffle between parents?

Tina put a hand over her belly and concentrated on breathing. Her heart hurt with the chaos of her thoughts. Was agreeing to marry Nico the right thing to do? She pictured Renzo and knew he would be furious if she did.

But if marrying Nico kept him from going after Renzo or D’Angeli Motors, then she had to do it. She would not be responsible for this feud between them growing any worse, nor would she be responsible for bringing harm to her brother and his family.

The sun was warm beneath the pergola, though she was not in direct light. She lay there for a very long time, gazing out at the bright green lawn with red and pink flowerbeds, pencil pines, bay laurels, and even a small grove of olive and lemon trees, until her eyes started to droop.

Tina awoke with a start sometime later, a chill skating over her skin as the sun’s warming caress moved on to another part of the garden. Birds chirped in the trees and she could hear the distant sounds of church bells from the nearest village across the lake.

She’d been dreaming about Nico, as he used to be when he came to their house so many years ago. He’d laughed then. Smiled. He’d always had an edge, but it hadn’t seemed frightening the way it did now.

Now she was utterly convinced he would do whatever it took to get his way. Ruthlessly.

“You scared Giuseppe out of several years of life when he could not find you,” came a cool voice.

Tina gave a little gasp of fright. She turned, found the man she’d been dreaming about sitting in a chair across from her, watching her with an intensity that both warmed and frightened her.

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “I fell asleep.”

“I see that.”

She pushed herself upright on the cushions and stretched like a cat coming to life after a long nap. “I don’t know what happened. It was warm and cozy, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

He looked around the sheltered pergola as if seeking the answer somewhere in the leafy green vines. She realized then that they were hidden from the view of anyone in the castle. A person would have to walk across the garden and cross in front of the pergola to see anyone inside it.

No wonder Giuseppe had lost her. She felt a pinprick of guilt as she thought of the little man searching. He’d been nothing but wonderful to her since the moment she’d arrived. He, at least, made her feel like a guest instead of a prisoner.

“It is a lovely spot for a nap,” Nico said. “I believe I might have fallen asleep here once when I was six.”

Her heart flipped as she thought of him as a little boy. Had he frightened his parents when he’d disappeared that day? Or had they known where he’d gone and left him to sleep in this lovely bower?

He seemed distant, his eyes focusing on some faraway point. Then he swung his gaze back to her. It was cool, hard. Determined. “It is time, Tina.”

She swallowed. “Time for what?”

He flicked his fingers against his jeans, as if removing a speck of dirt. “Time to choose.”

Her heart skipped. “Who was the woman on the phone?” she asked, fresh anger surging in her veins.

His eyes darkened. She didn’t think he would answer. But he surprised her.

“My mother. We were arguing.”

Tina ducked her head and studied her clasped hands. So much rage in so few words. She felt as if she’d invaded his privacy somehow, yet she’d had to know the answer. As if it mattered when he compelled her to marry him with threats to her family.

“It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She could feel his gaze still on her, intense, steady, penetrating. “You heard me fight with a woman. You saw me ignore her calls. And I’ve asked you to marry me. You have every right to be curious, under the circumstances.”

“Actually,” she said, her heart thudding as she lifted her gaze and met those storm-cloud eyes, “you didn’t ask me. You told me.”

He was so beautiful sitting across from her, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one arm hooked along the back of the big chair as he sprawled casually in it. He wore dark jeans and a white shirt, unbuttoned to show a perfect V of tanned skin that she could remember kissing—innocently at first, reverently later.

He arched an eyebrow as he studied her. She knew her color was high and wondered what he must be thinking. As if it mattered. As if anything but what he demanded of her mattered.

He ran his fingers along the arm of the chair in an absent gesture. “What is the difference? The outcome will be the same.”

Her temper flared. “A woman wants to be asked, Nico. It’s part of the fantasy.”

“Does this mean you’ve come to your senses?”

Her breath caught, her blood pounding in her temples, her ears. Come to her senses? She felt as though she’d lost them two months ago.

“Promise you won’t harm my family or D’Angeli Motors.” She said it firmly, her heart racing recklessly fast. It wasn’t like her to be so bold, and yet she’d been bolder in the past twenty-four hours with him than she’d ever been in her life. Oh, she was assertive enough usually, having learned to come out of her shell after years of schooling, but not confrontational. She’d been taught to be polite, gracious and ladylike—skills that were somehow lacking when she faced Niccolo Gavretti.

One corner of his mouth turned up. It could not be called a smile. “So long as Renzo leaves me alone, then I will do the same.”

Tina closed her eyes, her entire body quivering with fear and anticipation all at once. Was she really going to do this?

Of course she was. What choice did she have? She wouldn’t let her family suffer. Nico was titled, wealthy and no doubt in possession of far more power now that he’d inherited his father’s estate. Renzo would be no match for him. And she would not let that happen.

“Then you should ask me,” she said. “It would be the proper thing to do.”

She didn’t expect him to do what he did next. He rose from the chair in a graceful movement. And then he was at her side, sinking onto a knee on the gray stone cobbles in front of the couch. His palm came up, cupped her cheek, while his other hand took one of hers and brought it to his heart. It was a grand gesture, even if it was false.

Tina turned her cheek into his palm, though she did not mean to do so. But it was such a tender touch, and she’d ached to feel it for so long. For nearly two months. It stunned her to discover that she’d missed him, missed the aching rightness of his skin against hers.

Oh, she was in so much trouble here.

“Valentina D’Angeli,” he said, his fingers suddenly stroking down, along the column of her neck, making her shiver with longing. “Will you be my wife?”

Tina darted her tongue over her lips. She was insane, insane—
insane—
for even considering this. But he was right; she had no choice.

It was the correct thing to do. For her family. For her baby.

“Yes,” she whispered, her throat constricting on the word. “Yes.”

T
INA
closed her eyes as his head descended, anticipating his kiss. Longing for it. It had been so long since she’d felt the hot press of his mouth against hers and she was surprised at how much she wanted it. Oh, it was wrong, but she wanted it.

For all her breathless anticipation, however, he did not kiss her. Or, he did kiss her, but not the way she wanted. His lips feathered along her cheek before he tilted her head down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

Disappointment lanced into her as he stood and helped her to her feet.

“There is much to do,
tesoro
,” he said. “You will need to pack an overnight bag.”

Tina blinked in confusion. “An overnight bag? Why? Are we going somewhere?”

He put his hands on her shoulders, skimmed them down her bare arms. His touch left her glowing and hot, like burning embers on a cool spring night. “We are going to Gibraltar,” he told her.

Tina’s heart plummeted. “Gibraltar?”

He frowned, but it wasn’t unfriendly. “You know why couples go to Gibraltar, Tina. You cannot be that sheltered.”

She shook her head as a tide of apprehension began to bubble to life inside her. “I do know why. But why must we? I had thought—”

His pitying look told her he knew exactly what she’d thought. That they would have a normal, though perhaps hurried, wedding. That she would spend the next month or so choosing a gown, flowers, a cake and a venue. That she would somehow persuade Renzo to put aside his dislike and give her away.

She was exactly like other girls in that she’d always imagined she would have a fairy-tale wedding.

But it was not to be. She’d done everything backward, and now this man she barely knew anymore, this man she’d agreed to marry, was taking her to Gibraltar for a quickie wedding. They would be married within twenty-four hours of their arrival on the rock. She would be Signora Gavretti—

But no, she would be the marchesa di Casari.

Tina’s knees melted like butter and she nearly sank onto the soft cushions again. Nico steadied her, his strong arms coming around her and pulling her close.

“There is no need to wait,” he told her even as he held her against the heat and hardness of his body. “No need to prevaricate.”

“But my family …”

His eyes flashed hot. “I am your family now, Tina.”

By nightfall, they were on his private jet, winging their way across the Mediterranean toward Gibraltar. Nico sat across from her, his laptop open, his gaze fixed on the screen, while Tina couldn’t seem to concentrate on the book she’d been trying to read. Her eReader sat on her lap, forgotten, as she stared at her own sad reflection in the jet’s window.

Her life had changed so fast. Two months ago, she’d been looking forward to a masquerade party with Lucia. Everything she’d thought about her life up to that point had been blasted apart in the space of one night, though she had not known how completely it would change her at the time.

Just a little fun, she’d thought. The chance to be someone different, someone more free and spontaneous. Someone brave and bold and in control.

Ha. Some control.

With Niccolo Gavretti, she had no control. She slanted her gaze toward him, her breath catching as it always did when confronted with the evidence of his staggering male beauty. He frowned as he studied the screen, his fingers tapping a key here and there.

She wanted to go to him, wanted to smooth the frown from his face—and she wanted to run away at the same time. She had never been so tormented over one male in her life as she had over this one.

Always this one.

He looked up then and caught her watching him. She didn’t jerk her gaze away, didn’t try to hide that she’d been looking. What was the point? He closed the laptop and put it away.

“I know this isn’t the way you expected this to happen,” he said. “But it’s for the best.”

“The best for whom?” she asked automatically.

His silver gaze didn’t waver. “For us. For the baby.”

“I don’t think waiting a month would have hurt.”

He shrugged. “When I decide to do a thing, I do it. I see no point in waiting.”

When
he
decided.

“What about your mother? Don’t you think she might like to see her son get married?”

His laugh was unexpected. It also sent a shiver over her. “The only thing she cares about right now is the fact I’m forcing her to live on her allowance. I doubt she’d trouble herself to bring me water if I were dying of thirst on her doorstep.”

Sadness jolted her at that statement. She knew he was an only child, and of course she knew that his father had recently died, but she’d had no idea his relationship with his mother was that bad. “Perhaps she’s still upset over your father’s death. Grief does unexpected things to people.”

She felt a little foolish for saying such a thing considering how his father had died, but stranger things had happened than a wife still being in love with her philandering husband.

He stared at her disbelievingly. “She is not sad,
tesoro
. Or, if she is sad, it’s not because he died, but because I’m now in charge of the money.”

“I’m sorry,” she said because she didn’t know what else to say.

“Not all families enjoy each other’s company the way yours does.”

Tina dropped her gaze from his. Yes, her family loved one another, there was no doubt about it. But she also thought perhaps they failed to understand one another, as well. They would absolutely not understand, for instance, why she’d agreed to marry Nico.

No, they would be furious. Renzo would pop a gasket when she told him.

Nico’s phone rang and he took the call, ending their conversation. A short while later, the plane landed at Gibraltar airport. It was dark when they stepped off the plane. She couldn’t see the ocean, but she could smell the tang of the salt air.

They climbed into a waiting car and were whisked to an exclusive hotel high above the city. They checked into the penthouse suite, which the staff assured them came with breathtaking views of the Bay of Gibraltar and the Spanish mainland—as well as the Rif Mountains of Morocco—though it would be morning before they would see the view.

But once they entered the suite, Tina was more concerned about the room.
Room
, as in singular.

“We need another room,” she said to Nico when she realized there was only the one.

She wasn’t ready to spend the night with him, not like this. Not when everything was spiraling out of control and she felt as if her life was no longer her own. If he’d kissed her earlier beneath the pergola, she might have yielded to him like a flower bending in a storm.

But he had not, and she’d had several hours now to fret about what was happening. From the moment she’d agreed to marry him, he’d shifted into high gear. She should have realized that he would. He was a businessman, and he had every intention of closing the deal before anything could happen to derail his plans.

To him, she was another acquisition. A bit of land, a factory, an exclusive source of some necessary component for his motorcycles.

What did you expect?

Nico crossed the main living area and opened the balcony doors. The bay spread like spilled ink below, and the lights of ships lit up the harbor. Across the bay, the Spanish town of Algeciras glowed in the night.

“There is only this room,
cara
,” he said when she came to stand in the open doorway.

Tina crossed her arms over her chest, her heart thrumming along like she’d just had a caffeine injection.

“It’s happening too fast for me, Nico. I only said yes this afternoon, and now we’re here, and we’re in the same room together, and my head is spinning.”

He turned his head to look at her. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t tell what was in that enigmatic gaze of his, and her pulse skipped. He was probably annoyed she was giving him trouble.

“There is only one room because it’s all they have available, Tina. We’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

He sounded cool and guarded, and so very reasonable. Her cheeks felt hot. Sex seemed to be the last thing on his mind, though she couldn’t seem to move it from the front of hers. Because she couldn’t help but remember the last time they’d been alone in a hotel room overnight.

This one might be sleek and modern, furnished with chrome-and-glass tables, flokati rugs and leather couches, nothing at all like the elegant Hotel Daniele, but her mind didn’t know the difference. It kept replaying images of their last night together—cotton sheets so fine they felt like silk, twining bodies, sleek skin and that one perfect moment when she’d discovered how very addictive good sex could be.

“There is a couch,” she said, resisting the urge to fan herself.

His expression did not change. “I am aware of it.”

She hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “I’ll sleep on it. I’m smaller than you.”

He left the railing and stalked toward her. She dropped her arms to her sides, took a step backward. He was so very big, so near, as he stopped only inches away from her. She had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and she wished that she’d put the stilettos back
on. At least she wouldn’t feel as if he loomed over her if she had.

He reached out and caught a lock of her hair in his hand, twined it gently around his fist. “Is this really what you want?”

She nodded once, quickly.

He lifted her hair to his fine, aristocratic nose. “Do you not think,
cara
, that perhaps the modesty is a bit misplaced?”

The heat threatened to incinerate her from the inside out. “I—I agreed to marry you. So you would not harm my family,” she said, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

He laughed softly, wrapped her hair once more around his fist until she had to move closer. “Ah, I see. You have given yourself to me as a sacrificial lamb, is that it?”

“No—”

“You think that because you’ve agreed to the marriage, sex is off the table?” His voice was slightly harder this time.

She swallowed. “I didn’t say that. But they are two different things, are they not? We hardly know one another.”

“And we knew each other not at all in Venice. I seem to remember this made the entire evening more exciting, not less. Shall I procure a couple of masks to make it easier for you?”

She dropped her chin, hiding her eyes from his. Not because she was embarrassed or ashamed, but because if she did not he would see the flare of excitement that even now dripped into her bloodstream, drugging her with need.

“That was different. And there were consequences neither of us expected.”

His playful tone disappeared. “I fail to see how these consequences affect the topic at hand. Or how sex on one night is different than sex on another. Unless, of course, it’s the man you object to and not the sex.”

That wasn’t it at all, and yet she couldn’t tell him that. She’d already lost so much of herself to him—if they spent the night together, how much more would she lose?

“I—I’m not ready,” she said, still keeping her eyes downcast. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

She felt him go completely still. “How … amusing,” he murmured, before he dropped her hair and stepped around her, into the room and away from the currents swirling between them.

Tina’s throat was thick with words that would not come, with feelings and emotions she did not fully understand. She’d blundered, and yet she’d only been trying to preserve her sense of self for a little while longer.

He prowled across the carpet, his shoulders tight as he opened the liquor cabinet and poured a finger of Scotch into a glass before turning back to her, the drink cradled in his hand.

“No matter what you might think,
cara
, I am in full control of my libido. You waste your time imagining that I intend to take you to my bed and have my wicked way with you. We have one bed because one bed is all that was available. You may sleep in it unmolested, I assure you.”

He downed the Scotch and grabbed his briefcase. “I have work to do, and no inclination to coerce you into doing something which is obviously distasteful to you.”

Tina awoke the next morning in the bed, though she’d started the evening on the couch. She sat up groggily and swung her head toward the direction of the bathroom. The sound of the running shower came through the closed door. A few minutes later it stopped, and then Nico strode into the room wearing nothing but a towel slung low over his hips.

Tina bit off a gasp as she grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to her chin. Nico stopped in his tracks, his expression wry.

“You’re wearing the same thing you wore when you went to sleep on the couch, Tina.”

She glanced beneath the sheet. So she was, though her attire hadn’t quite been the foremost thing on her mind. She let the fabric fall again as hot embarrassment crept through her. He had to be laughing at her on the inside for acting like a startled virgin—though that was not why she’d gasped.

No, she’d gasped because seeing him nearly naked like that was an assault on her senses.

And she wanted more.

“I was fine on the couch,” she said, pushing those thoughts away. “You didn’t have to bring me in here.”

“You didn’t look fine. You looked cramped. And cold.” He reached into the closet and took out a pair of khaki trousers. Tina jerked her gaze away automatically when he dropped the towel—and then swung it back with a sense of glee. He stood with his back to her so that she could look to her heart’s content without him being the wiser. And what a view it was: muscled shoulders, narrow waist, tight buttocks and long, strong legs.

Something flared to life in her belly, something hot and dark and hungry. She gripped the sheet in her fists. Oh, my …

She didn’t remember him carrying her into the bedroom last night—and yet she did remember one detail. She remembered shivering and curling up tight under the blanket, and then something warm and solid had cradled her until she forgot she’d been cold.

But had it only been him carrying her, or had he lain down in the bed and held her tight? She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to ask.