Revelations of the Night Before Read online

  “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 assoc
iation.

  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.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT was midmorning when Tina awoke, and for a moment she couldn’t remember where she was. But then it all came back with brutal clarity and she sat up with a gasp. She was marooned in the middle of a lake, held captive by a dark and dangerous man who insisted that she marry him.

  She reached for her phone on the bedside table, searching hopefully for a signal, but there was none. Tina tossed the phone down on the plush comforter and made a noise of displeasure.

  But what would she do if there were a signal? She’d text Lucia, of course, but she most definitely would not call her mother or Renzo. A shiver slid along her spine at the thought. That would be a disaster.

  She flipped the covers back and went to open the heavy silk drapes. The sun filtered in through the laurels, dappling her face with warmth. The lake was alive with windsurfers in the distance, and here and there motorboats zipped by, some towing skiers and others simply out for a leisurely ride.

  It was without doubt a gorgeous view and she stared at the green mountains in the distance before turning her attention to getting dressed. Tina showered—and then, just to prove a point, she blow-dried her hair with a round brush until it was stick straight.

  When her hair hung smooth and long halfway down her back, she went into the walk-in closet where a staff member had put away all her clothing. Everything was crisp and ready to be worn, so she chose a pair of shantung silk trousers in bright red and a long silk vest in black that belted at the waist. She added a pair of strappy stilettos, just to add a bit of wow factor, and then put on the bangle bracelet her mother had given her for her graduation. She added the rest of her jewelry for the day—diamond earrings, a gold necklace, three rings—before she was satisfied.

  No one seemed to be stirring in the house until she reached the kitchen and found the chef and a trio of helpers at work on something that smelled delicious.

  “If you will join the signore on the terrazzo, signorina, breakfast will soon be served.”

  Tina thanked the woman and went out to the same table she’d shared with Nico last night. He was on the phone, a laptop in front of him, and she stopped to watch the way the sunlight slanted over his perfect features. He seemed oblivious to her presence.

  “It stops now,” he grated. “You have an allowance. If you burn through it, you will get nothing more until the next quarter.”

  A second later he smacked his palm on the table, swearing violently. Tina jumped at the sudden movement and spun to go back inside. Before she could reach the door, he called out to her. She turned slowly. He still had the phone to his ear, but he beckoned her over.

  Warily, she approached and took a seat while he continued to argue with whoever was on the other end. Then he ended the call abruptly and slid the ringer to Silent.

  “How is it you get a signal out here and I get nothing?” she asked.

  “It’s the carrier,” he told her. “I use a different service when I am here than I do elsewhere. Though sometimes, when the weather is right and you are in the right part of the castle, other signals will come through.”

  Well, that explained that. “I don’t suppose you’d let me use your phone today.”

  He shrugged. “Why not? You are an intelligent woman, Tina. You won’t call your brother and beg him to rescue you.”

  Her heart thumped. “How can you be so sure?”

  He studied her for a moment, his eyes straying over her hair. Warmth blossomed inside her belly then, spreading through her limbs like hot honey. “So it does straighten out,” he said thoughtfully.

  “I told you so.”

  “Women have such tricks at their disposal. I would have never guessed.”

  She almost laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you to be au courant about the things that occur in beauty salons. And I did ask you a question, by the way.”

  He picked up his espresso, his long fingers dwarfing the small cup. “I am aware of it.”

  “And what is your answer?”

  “I already gave you my answer, Tina. You are intelligent and thoughtful. You also love your brother very much. You do not wish to worry him or cause him to cut his vacation short when he is so happy with his new wife and child.”

  Her pulse throbbed with every word. It was as if he could see inside her soul. She shook herself. That was silly. Of course he couldn’t. But he was a very good guesser.

  “Besides,” he continued, “you are not in danger. You are in a situation of your own making and you refuse to cry wolf before you’ve thought it all out.”

  “Not entirely of my own making,” she murmured. “It does seem to take two to make a baby.”

  “Yes, but I’ve already thought about it and I know what must be done.”

  “And what if I disagree? I might think myself justified to call Renzo then. He could at least get his best attorneys onto the situation.”

  His expression remained unconcerned. “By all means, if you think this is the correct course of action. We can fight about who is more suited to get full custody of the child in the courts.”

  A chill dripped like acid into her veins. She didn’t really think he could take her child away from her—but what if he could?

  “I haven’t made up my mind yet,” she said breezily, turning to smile at the woman who brought her a cup of coffee.

  “You will,” he said with that arrogant assurance that made her want to grind her teeth in frustration.

  His phone buzzed on the table and he pressed the button to send it to voice mail without once looking at the screen. She wondered who was on the other end of the line, then realized with an unpleasant jolt that it must be a woman. He wouldn’t treat a business associate that way, she was pretty certain, so it had to be a romantic entanglement.

  Something twisted in her gut then, some feeling she didn’t want to examine too closely. She’d not thought of what his romantic life must be like right now. They’d spent a single nigh
t together nearly two months ago. Though he’d not been linked with any particular woman in the papers lately did not mean there wasn’t one—or had not been one that night.

  A wave of queasiness swept through her, but it had nothing to do with pregnancy hormones. She pushed the coffee away.

  “You can drink it,” Nico said. “It’s decaf.”

  For some reason, she was ridiculously touched that he’d known she couldn’t have caffeine. But she shouldn’t be. It wasn’t a romantic gesture; it was a practical one. “Thank you for remembering.”

  The smile he gave her threatened to melt all her good intentions to remain detached and controlled. How could she even begin to feel that way? He was threatening her—threatening her family. But what he said next cracked the ice she tried to keep around her heart.

  “I spent a couple of hours this morning looking up pregnancy. I admit I know nothing.”

  Tina swallowed. Hard. “I’m afraid I don’t, either. I had thought to beg Faith for information.”

  Nico looked suddenly thoughtful, and the ice cracked a little more. “There is a website with pregnant women on it. They talk about everything. You can even track the stages of your pregnancy. It is quite amazing.”

  Tina picked up her cup with shaky fingers—mostly because she needed something to do—and took a sip.

  She didn’t want to see this side of him, not when he’d threatened her with a custody battle and harm to her family if she didn’t bow to his will. But when he looked at her like this, when he spoke so earnestly and honestly it made her heart hurt, she remembered the old Nico, the one who used to work in the garage with Renzo and laugh freely.

  And remembering made her ache with longing to see them reconciled, though he’d told her yesterday that would never happen. How could it be that bad between them? That unforgivable?

  “I’ll look into it,” she said softly, keeping her eyes downcast while she worked to find her center.

  The food arrived then, and once more they were alone and eating together on this gorgeous balcony overlooking the beautiful azure lake. Everything was delicious and plentiful, and she found herself eating more than she’d thought she would be able to.