Her Shameful Secret (2 page)

Her muscles were locked, her feet were still, but her heart pounded hard against her ribs. She should tell him to leave and then get as far away as she could, but instead she was letting him take a good, long look at her.

“You need to leave. Now.” She forced the words out. She needed to be harsh. In the end it would be kinder this way.

“Bella …” he warned in a low growl.

Only Antonio called her that. She’d used to love hearing him say it with a hint of a smile when he greeted her, or in awe as she brought him satisfaction with her mouth. Now, hearing him say it again, this time in anger, it brought a pang in her heart.

“I have nothing to say to you,” she said in a rush.

His face hardened with displeasure. Antonio whipped off his dark sunglasses and glared at her. “How about offering your condolences?”

Her chest tightened, squeezing her lungs until she
found it difficult to breathe. His dark brown eyes ensnared her. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. She had never seen such fury or pain. It wouldn’t take much to unleash it. If she moved he would pounce.

“I only just heard about Giovanni’s car accident. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Antonio’s eyes narrowed and she could swear his anger quivered in the air.

“Such a display of grief for an ex-lover,” he said in a raspy low tone. “It must have been a nasty break-up. What happened? Cheated on him, too?”

He didn’t know
. She breathed a little easier. “I did not have an affair with Giovanni,” she said, holding her notepad and pen against her chest as if they could shield her from Antonio’s wrath. She took a cautious step back.

“Bella, one more move …”

“
Signorina
,” the man from the other table interrupted, “you forgot the—”

“One moment,” Bella pleaded to the customer as she took the opportunity to shuffle away from Antonio. “I’ll be right back.”

She tried to march into the kitchen just as she felt Antonio’s large hand fall on her shoulder. She still recognized his touch, she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting off the self-recrimination and longing swirling inside her.

Antonio whirled her around until she faced him. If he hadn’t been holding her so tight she’d have collapsed. She felt so sick. So tired. Of worrying. Of barely surviving.

Isabella tilted her head back to look him in the eye. She had forgotten how powerfully tall he was. His
height and strength had used to make her feel safe and protected. Now it made her feel extremely vulnerable.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Antonio said. His voice was soft and dangerous. He lowered his head until he blocked out the rest of the world. “You were surprisingly difficult to find.”

Isabella’s stomach twisted with fear. Antonio placed both hands on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her like talons. He surrounded her. She felt caged. Trapped.

“What’s going on here?” Her boss’s harsh voice sounded close. “Isabella, what have you done?”

“I’ll take care of it,” she promised the older man without taking her eyes off Antonio. One touch, one look and she was his. It had always been that way.

The world started to spin and she swallowed roughly. She was mentally and physically exhausted. She wasn’t at the top of her game when she needed to be the most. Why did Antonio have to reappear in her life when she was so fragile?

“I don’t know why you bothered.” Isabella took a quick glimpse and saw her boss next to the stove, saw his undisguised interest in the rich customer in his café. “You still think I was having an affair with Giovanni when I was with you.”

Antonio’s eyes darkened and his harsh features tightened with anger. “Oh, I
know
you were.”

He hadn’t forgiven his brother. Or her. He never would. Isabella swallowed hard, tapping into the last of her strength. She felt wobbly and weak, but the fight hadn’t quite left her.

She just wished Antonio would take his hands off her. Her skin stung with awareness as tension whipped
between them like a lash. She couldn’t think straight when he touched her. She’d never been able to.

“I know you were his mistress,” he drawled softly. “Why else would he leave you something in his will?”

Isabella cringed. That couldn’t be good. She had thought Giovanni was her friend, letting her stay with him and helping her out. He hadn’t revealed his true nature until it was too late. “Go away, Antonio. You don’t know anything.”

“I’m not leaving without you. You have to sign some documents in the law office as soon as possible.”

Panic bloomed inside her. She wasn’t going anywhere with Antonio. Isabella tried to show no expression, but she knew she’d failed when she saw the glint of dark satisfaction in Antonio’s eyes. He wanted to make her uncomfortable. He wanted to see her suffer.

“Tell your family that you couldn’t find me.” She took a step away from Antonio and was relieved when he let go. “Give the money away to charity.”

Antonio eyed her with disbelief. “You don’t know how much it is.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She could use the money, but she didn’t trust this gift from Giovanni. There would be a price to pay if she accepted.

“Isabella!” her boss yelled. “Get the food on the table before it gets cold.”

She turned abruptly and her head spun. She reached for the wall but her fingers gripped Antonio’s strong arm. She battled desperately for her balance. She couldn’t show weakness—or any other symptoms. She sensed Antonio’s stare and held back a groan.

“You’re ill?” he asked sharply.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she replied in a rough voice.

She refused to look at him, not wanting him to see just how weak she truly felt. She could tell that he was assessing her and that made her worry. Antonio was smart and he’d made a fortune on intuitive connections. It wouldn’t take him much longer to figure out what was wrong with her. She had to get away before he discovered the truth.

“Isabella!” her boss barked out.

“Let me serve this,” Isabella told Antonio as she grabbed the tray of food. “Then we won’t be interrupted again.”

She didn’t wait for his answer as she hurried out to the sidewalk. She served the food quickly, almost spilling it. She recovered just in time, murmuring her profuse apologies, but her mind was on possible escape routes. Isabella moved slightly until she was in a blind spot from the kitchen. This was her last chance to make a run for it.

Isabella placed the serving tray on one of the empty tables. She kept her casual pace until she turned the corner. Then she ran as fast as she could down the alley to the back stairs.

As her feet slapped against the pavement her lungs felt like they were going to explode—but she couldn’t stop. Time was of the essence. Isabella reached the stairs and climbed them, two steps at a time. She tripped and bruised her knee. For a moment her world tilted, but she got back up and kept going.

Her legs burned and shook, but she pushed herself to go faster. Antonio would now have realized that she’d escaped. Any minute he’d start looking for her.

She reached the door to her room, but didn’t stop to take a breath. She felt nauseous and her body ached. It didn’t matter. She needed to get far away and then she would rest.

Swinging the door open, Isabella saw her backpack on the top of her lumpy mattress. She stepped into the small room and lunged for it. As she grasped the shoulder strap she heard the door bang shut.

Isabella turned around and the room moved. She saw Antonio resting against the door. He didn’t look surprised or out of breath. From the glimmering rage in his dark eyes, she thought he had probably been waiting there for her the moment she stepped out of the kitchen.

“I’m disappointed, Bella,” he said in a dangerously soft tone. “You’re becoming so predictable.”

“I—I …” She blinked as dark spots gathered along the edges of her eyes. She felt light-headed, but her arms and legs were unusually heavy. She couldn’t move.

He stepped away from the door and approached her. “I don’t have time for your games. You’re coming with me
now
.”

“I …” She needed to move. Run. Shamelessly lie.

But just as Antonio reached for her her head lolled back and she fainted, collapsing at his feet.

CHAPTER TWO

“B
ELLA!”
Antonio sprung into action and caught her as her backpack fell onto the wooden floor with a thud. He lifted her and couldn’t help noticing how light and delicate she was.
Fragile
. The word whispered in his mind like a warning.

She slumped against his arm and he held on tight as alarm pulsed through his veins. He swept the wisps of hair from her face. Her eyes were closed and her complexion was very pale. He laid her carefully on the mattress. Crouching down next to her, Antonio took a quick survey of the tiny room. The beige paint was peeling off the walls in chunks and a faint scent of rotting garbage wafted through the small open window. There was nothing else. No sink or refrigerator so he could get her water. There was hardly enough space for the mattress. How could she live like this? Why was she living here when she had a life and a future in America?

“Bella?” He tapped her cheek with his fingers. Her skin was soft and cold.

Isabella frowned and pursed her lips. She murmured something but it was incomprehensible. She didn’t open her eyes.

Antonio started to get suspicious. His first instinct
had been to take care of Isabella.
Some things never change
, he thought bitterly. But what if this was an act? Did she hope that he would back off? Not a chance.

“Isabella,” he called out sharply.

“Go away,” she said drowsily. She turned to her side and curled her legs close to her chest.

“No.” He grabbed her shoulder and gave her a shake.

“I’m serious.” She squeezed her eyes shut and weakly tried to push his hand away. “Leave me alone.”

He wished he could. He wished he had left her alone when he’d first seen her. It had been early March. The sun had been shining but there had been a chill in the air as he’d left his office. He had just pocketed his cell phone when he’d seen a young woman standing a few feet away on the sidewalk.

Antonio had done a double-take and halted.

“Is everything all right, sir?” his assistant had asked.

No
. His world had taken a sudden tilt as he’d stared at the blonde, dressed simply in a fitted leather jacket, skintight jeans and knee-high boots. The violent kick of attraction had made him take a staggering step back.

He knew many beautiful young women, but there had been something different about this one. He had wanted to accept her silent challenge. It could have been her don’t-mess-with-me stance or the jaunty tilt of her black fedora. Maybe it had been the bright red scarf draped around her neck that hinted at attitude. Whatever it was, he had found it irresistible.

“Sir?” his assistant had prompted.

Antonio had barely heard him. His attention had been on the blonde as she’d turned a map upside down, clearly hopeless at navigating. Then suddenly she’d shrugged her shoulders and stuffed the map carelessly
into her backpack. Antonio had watched as the blonde had started walking away as if she was ready for whatever adventure she faced.

Her beauty and vitality had intrigued him, and her bold spirit had captured his imagination. He’d known he had to meet this woman or regret missing the opportunity.

“Cancel my meeting,” he had said to his stunned assistant.

Following an elemental instinct he had not wanted to question, Antonio had ignored the chauffeured car waiting for him and followed the blonde.

His pulse had quickened as he’d watched the swing of her long blonde hair and the sway of her hips. She’d looked over her shoulder, and as their gazes connected he had seen the flare of attraction in her blue eyes. Instead of looking away she had turned and approached him.

“
Mi scusi
,” she had said, her voice strong and clear as she’d met his gaze boldly. “Do you speak English?”

“Of course,” he had said, noticing she was American. There had been no light of recognition in her eyes—just lust. She’d had no idea who he was.

“Great. I’m looking for the Piazza del Popolo,” she had said, her attention clearly drawn to his mouth. She had absently swiped the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip.

Antonio had clenched his jaw. He had wanted to know how her lips tasted, but it had been too soon, too fast. The last thing he’d wanted to do was scare her off. “It’s not far,” he had replied gruffly as attraction pulsed between them. “I can show you where it is.”

He had been fascinated as he’d watched her cheeks
turn pink. She hadn’t tried to hide her interest, but she’d been fighting an internal struggle. He had seen the rise and fall of her chest and the eagerness in her expression. She had been tempted to explore whatever was happening between them.

“Wouldn’t it be out of your way?”

“Not at all,” he had lied. His voice had softened as his chest had tightened with growing excitement. “I happen to be going in that direction.”

“What luck!” Her broad smile had indicated that she didn’t believe him. She could have said she was going to Venice and he would have given the same answer. “By the way, I’m Isabella.”

He had taken Bella to bed that night. There had been no games, no pretense. There had also been no indication that this American student on Spring Break would twist him in so many knots that he would never be the same again. She hadn’t been very experienced, but a generous and affectionate lover.

Giovanni had thought so, too.

The reminder burned like acid, eating away at him.

Antonio stood up and shoved his clenched fists in his pockets. “You told me you weren’t sick.”

“I’m not sick,” she countered faintly.

The Isabella he knew was full of life and ready to take on the world. This Isabella looked like a strong gust of wind would knock her over. “You need to see a doctor.”

Isabella suddenly opened her eyes wide. She blinked a few times and darted a quick look at him before keeping her gaze on the floor. She rose, resting awkwardly on her elbow and pushing the wayward hair out of her
face. “I’ve seen a doctor. I’m not sick. Just exhausted. All I need is to eat and sleep properly.”