Bought by Her Italian Boss (14 page)

“My mother was eighteen. I’m a bastard, yes. And I won’t tell you the name of my father, but that’s for your own protection as much as mine. He was mafioso,
cara
. A truly dangerous and reprehensible man.”

She blinked, shocked, and moved blindly to sit on the edge of the sofa. “How—?”

“—does the daughter of a banker get mixed up with a thug? He singled her out. I’m sure he had his moments of charm. I’ve seen photos and I imagine any woman would call him attractive. According to my uncle, my mother might as well have been the youngest daughter of a church minister, rebelling at her father’s attempts to keep her cloistered. My grandfather was ready to disown her, but my uncle kept fighting to bring her home. I mean that literally. He had scars. She went back, regardless. Again and again.”

“Got pregnant.”

“Indeed.” He pushed his hands into his pockets, rocked on his heels, scowl remote and dark. “Even though she came away bruised at different times. I will never understand—”

His profile was hard and sharp.

“She was late into her pregnancy when he bashed her around and she left for the last time. She called my uncle to come take her to the hospital, but she was far into labor when he got there. He caught me and held her as she died. She begged him to keep me from my father. If you could have seen his face when he told me these things...”

“Oh, Vito,” she breathed, rising to go to him, hand reaching for his arm, but he was a statue, unmoved by her touch, barely seeming to breathe, face still and harsh as though carved into marble.

“This is what I am,
cara
. A mixture of impetuous Donatelli rebellion—have you met Paolo? I have that same cursed need to dominate and it is a monumental task to hold all of that back. Then I have this streak of brutality on top of it. My father killed people. And the dead ones are the victims who got off easy. His other son turned out as conscienceless, trafficking in women and drugs, winding up dead in the gutter outside his own home, like a rat. I even have a nephew. He’s already been arrested for assault. There but for the grace of the Donatelli family go I.”

“Vito,” she chided. He didn’t really think he would have turned out like that, did he? She frowned, hurting for him, feeling how tortured his soul was by a bloodline he didn’t want and couldn’t escape.

He ran his hand down his face. “I cannot perpetuate that sickness into another generation, not into the very family that took me in, kept me this side of the law and out of the hands of a man who would have turned me into himself. I
won’t
risk it. Do you understand? Do you see now why I can’t marry you and give you that dream I see in your eyes every time you rock a baby or hold a child’s hand?”

She lowered her eyes, aching inside. He saw through her every single time.

“When your brother came to Milan that day,” he said heavily, “all I could think was that it was better to let our separation happen then, before you were pregnant with an abomination—”

“Don’t say that!”

He held up a hand. “But it tortures me,
cara
, that he made it sound like you were only a convenience to me. Our affair served many purposes, not all of them romantic,
sì
. That’s true. But to let you think that was all it was is a lie. We are honest with one another if nothing else, are we not?”

“Are we?” she asked, mind reeling from all he’d told her, which made certain suspicions rise that were so sweet and fragile she barely let herself touch them. But why would he tell her all this, with that tortured look on his face, if he didn’t care for her, trust her, not just a little, but a lot.

“Does some part of this sound made-up to you?” he asked, voice chilling and shoulders going back.

She made a noise. “Well, it is quite a story. But I do believe you. No, I’m questioning why you’ve told me.”

She thought back to that day in the elevator when he’d been so angry at what she hadn’t been able to see in him. All this time he’d presented her with the thick wall of the vault that fronted the man inside. Of course she’d had trouble seeing his true thoughts and feelings.

But now, now she thought she saw very clearly. It wasn’t just wishful thinking, was it?

“I just explained,” he said testily. “I didn’t want you hurting unnecessarily.”

“So I’m supposed to not hurt when you leave again? Secure in the knowledge that your rejection is for my own good? You know I love you, don’t you?” There. She flung her own vault wide open, crashing it into the wall.

He flinched, dragging in air like he’d taken a knife to the lung. “I hoped that you didn’t,” he said through his teeth.

“Oh! Another lie!” she charged, stabbing a finger at his chest, hard enough to hurt her fingernail.

He grabbed her hand and glared, dark brows a fierce line. “I’m not lying!”

“You knew I was in love with you and you sent me away to get over it, but the minute you thought I might, you came back to see exactly how deep my feelings went. This—” she pulled free of his grip and pointed wildly to encompass all the photos he’d shown her “—is a test.”

“Untrue. I’m explaining to you why I can’t marry you and give you the family you’ve always wanted.”

“Fine. I accept,” she said, crossing her arms.

He grew cautious. “Accept what?”

“That we’ll never marry and have children. Maybe we can talk about adopting someday, but that’s not a condition. I’ll accept simply living together without all those picket-fence trappings I always wanted.”

“No!” he growled. “That’s not what I’m saying. You deserve those things, Gwyn. Your brother is right. That’s why—” He cut himself off with an impatient noise, palm scraping up his cheek, creating a raspy sound.

“So I should go marry another man and have his babies?” she confirmed.

“No! Damn you, no. I hated seeing you with that man. It made me sick. No. And damn you for forcing me to admit that.” He stalked away a few steps, hand raking into his hair. “I’m trying to think of you, Gwyn, but I keep acting for myself. That is who I am. Greedy. Selfish.” He pivoted. “Don’t you see that’s what I’m trying to protect you from? I want that deal you’re offering. I want to take you into my home as my lover and shortchange you on all the things you have a right to. What does that make me? How could you love someone like that?”

“What kind of man are you really?” she cried. “One who blames himself for his mother’s death?”

He jerked a little in surprise, said, “No,” but without conviction. Then hitched a shoulder. “Perhaps. A little. Everyone, the aunts and uncles who knew, always looked at me as if... I used to fight with Paolo. A lot. But then my uncle told me about this and I knew I had to contain this part of myself. Stamp it out as much as possible.”

“And you have,” she told him. “Are you likely to hit me, Vito?”

“No,” he said, his contempt for men who would do such a thing thick in the word.

“What if I provoke you? What if I push you?” she asked, coming across to give him a light shove in the middle of his chest.

He caught her hands and easily twisted her arms behind her back, hauling her close in such a swift move they both released a little, “Ha,” as their bodies lightly slammed together.

She tested his hold. “Now what are you going to do to me?” she said, but softly. Knowingly. She was never frightened here, only eager with anticipation.

“Kiss you,” he answered. “Make love to you.”

“Love me?” she suggested. Begged.

He lowered his head with a groan, capturing her mouth in a way that instantly owned, but gave at the same time. Anointed. Worshipped. His kiss was almost chaste in its sweetness, but so carnal they couldn’t help running their tongues together and opening to deepen the kiss until they were both breathless.

Then he released her arms and tucked her head against his chest where his heart slammed, his strong arms enfolding her to him.

She stroked his sides, soothing the beast.

“I could never hurt you, Gwyn. I wanted to carve out my own heart when I saw the way you looked at me that day you left Milan. The thought that I’d left you feeling anything but confident in how very lovable you are was intolerable. I do love you.” He touched his lips to her ear. “I love you in ways I didn’t know it was possible to love, with my body, with my breath. I ache with love for you every night and every day.”

She closed her eyes, savoring the sting of joyous tears. Threading her arms around him, she held on to him and the moment. The strength that had sustained her and protected her and would be hers. Because she would fight for this.

Him.

“Vito, how did the Donatellis keep you this side of the law?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, digging his fingers into her hair, petting her like he was comforting himself. “A million ways, I suppose. Redirection, distraction, love.”

“I love you,” she drew back to say.

His hold on her flexed and he swallowed. “She loved him. He didn’t change.”

“Look what she was starting with,” she said wryly. “What makes you think a child of yours couldn’t be molded the way you were? Especially if he or she started out loved, the way you did?”

“Cara—”
It was both protest and longing.

“It’s not a deal breaker, I swear. I’m just saying you shouldn’t write off your genes as all bad. Either way, I’m yours. You’re stuck with me, understand?”

“Your brother is never going to— Screw it,” he muttered, ducking abruptly to scoop her legs out from under her and give her a toss, catching her in the cradle of his arms, high against his chest. “We’re getting married. Maybe we will adopt, but I’m not having you walk around without my ring. No one will call you anything but my wife.”

“Was that a proposal? Because I missed the part where I was asked,” she said, but it was hard to sound tart when she was grinning and his neck smelled good and she wanted to crawl inside his clothes. Under his skin. “I missed you,” she said against his Adam’s apple, voice thready with need.

“I’m half a man without you,” he said as he strode into the bedroom and placed her on his bed. “I’m only the worst parts of myself. Angry, jealous, miserable.” He yanked his shirt open as he pulled it from his pants. “You understand what kind of possessive bastard you’re consigning yourself to, don’t you?”

“I’d like to say it’s my choice, but I don’t think I’ve ever had one.” She lifted her hips to reach her zipper, then working her skirt down, enjoying the way his chest swelled at the sight of her bared legs. He hurried to finish undressing. “It has to be you or no one,” she told him.

“Are you still on the pill?” he asked.

She nodded while she released the belt that she’d worn over her shirt, but she caught the little something that passed over his expression. It was a brief hesitation, words that rose but were second-guessed. One day, she knew from that tiny moment of betrayed thought, one day he would be ready to think about children. It was okay that today wasn’t that day. She wanted him to herself for a little while, anyway.

He skimmed her undies away and settled his hot body over her, his hips between her legs. One arm reached to help her finish pushing off her top. “This is pretty,” he said of her bra, tracing the edge of the blue-green lace. “It can stay for now.”

He leaned to kiss her, but she drew back, needing to know.

“Does it bother you that so many men have seen me naked?”

“That will always bother me,
cara
. Not just because I am a jealous Neanderthal of a man, but because it hurt you so very badly. I would do
anything
to make that go away for you.”

She traced her fingertips along his temple, down the side of his face, then cupped the side of his neck. “But we might not have found each other if that hadn’t happened. And you wouldn’t be here at all if your mother and father hadn’t happened. Life is never going to be perfect and tidy, you know. Bad things can happen. We can only do our best with what we’re given.”

“Are you giving yourself to me?”

“I am,” she said solemnly.

Excitement lit his eyes, but his kiss was tender. “Then I will do my best with you. That is a promise,
mia bella
.” He settled his hips low and his hard, glorious length slid into her, slid home, making her groan in welcome. This was where they both belonged.

“Ti amo tanto,”
he groaned.
I love you so much.

And later, when they were debating whether to rise and go out to eat, both completely lacking the will to move any more than a hand to caress a collarbone or turn their lips into each other’s skin, her ringtone sounded from the other room.

Leaning off the bed for his pants, Vito pulled out his own phone and dialed, saying a moment later, “She’s not coming home tonight. We’ll come by your father’s in the morning on the way to the jewelry store. I’ll ask for her hand like a proper suitor. Good enough?”

It must have been because he hung up after one grumbled word from a voice she recognized as Trav’s.

“I told you he’s annoying,” she said.

Vito set aside his phone and gathered her beneath him, bracing himself on his elbow above her, just looking at her in the half light of dusk coming through the uncovered windows.

“I like it,
tesoro
. I’m a competitive man. I will enjoy treating you so well he is forced to eat his words again and again.”

She burst out laughing, not asking where his edges and superiority complex came from. At least he was using his naturally dominant nature for good instead of evil.

“I do love you, you know,” she told him, gazing into his eyes. “I love you because you told me. You trust me. That means so much.”

“I never imagined telling anyone.” He frowned across the room, into the middle distance. “It’s not about protecting me anymore, but protecting the bank. This could be a very big problem for the family.”

“I’ll never tell a soul, I promise.”

“I know.” His brows gave a little pull, like she was stating the obvious. “I knew when I came here that even if you were repelled, the secret would always be safe with you.”

She petted his cheek, smoothing his rough stubble, chiding, “But I will take every opportunity to point out things like the fact that you have a crazy fierce capacity for loyalty. If your son or daughter had the same, we’d have nothing to worry about.”