Книга - Her Shameful Secret

Her Shameful Secret
Susanna Carr











“Hello, Bella.”


No, no, no! She looked up sharply and her cloudy eyes cleared as she focused on Antonio. He was here. In front of her. Waiting for her to make the next move even though they both knew it was useless.

Run. The word screamed through her brain.

Does he know? Is that why he’s here? She couldn’t stop staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Antonio wore a black pinstripe suit, the ruthlessly tailored lines emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean, muscular body. The hand-made shirt and silk tie offered a veneer of civility, but they couldn’t mask his animal magnetism. He was the most sensual man she had ever known, and the most powerful. She had been an idiot to get involved with him.

Antonio Rossi was also the most callous person she’d met. Isabella took short, choppy breaths, but she was suffocating with dread. She couldn’t gauge his next move or his next thought. She only knew that it was going to be devastating.





About the Author


SUSANNA CARR has been an avid romance reader since she read her first Mills & Boon


Modern™ at the age of ten. Although romance novels were not allowed in her home, she always managed to sneak one in from the local library or from her twin sister’s secret stash.

After attending college and receiving a degree in English Literature, Susanna pursued a romance-writing career. She has written sexy contemporary romances for several publishers, and her work has been honoured with awards for both contemporary and sensual romance.

Susanna lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. When she isn’t writing she enjoys reading romance and connecting with readers online. Visit her website at: www.susannacarr.com




Recent titles by the same author:




THE TARNISHED JEWEL OF JAZAAR


Did you know these are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk




Her Shameful Secret


Susanna Carr






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Carly Byrne and Lucy Gilmour with thanks for their insights and generous support.




CHAPTER ONE


ISABELLA WILLIAMS heard the throaty growl of an expensive sports car and lifted her head like a hunted animal scenting danger. The sudden move made her head spin. She took a step back, gripping the serving tray as she fought for her balance.

The sound of the car faded before she turned to see it. Isabella exhaled shakily, her bunched muscles relaxing. She swiped her hand against her clammy forehead, hating how her imagination ran wild. Her mind was playing tricks on her. One sports car drove past her and she immediately thought of him.

It was ridiculous to think that Antonio Rossi was in this part of Rome, or even searching for her. She rolled her eyes in self-disgust. She’d only shared a bed with him for a few glorious months in the spring. The guy would have long forgotten her. He was every woman’s secret fantasy and Isabella was certain that she had been replaced the moment she left his bed.

The thought pricked at Isabella and she blinked away the tears that stung in the backs of her eyes. Glancing at the clock, she calculated how many more hours she had left on her shift. Too many. All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed, burrow under the threadbare covers and keep the world at bay. But she couldn’t afford to take a day off. She needed every euro to survive.

“Isabella, you have customers waiting,” her boss barked at her.

She simply nodded, too tired to give her usual sarcastic response, and headed toward one of the small tables on the sidewalk café. She would get through this day just like every other day. One foot in front of the other. One minute at a time.

It felt like she had waded through sludge by the time she got to the tiny table where the couple waited. They didn’t seem to mind her slow pace. The man gently, almost reverently, kissed the woman’s lips. Envy pierced through Isabella’s stupor. She bit down on her lip to hold back a whimper as she remembered what it felt like to be adored and desired.

Isabella’s shoulders slumped as the bittersweet memories poured over her. She couldn’t recapture that kind of love. She would never be the center of Antonio’s attention again, and he would no longer be her entire world. She missed his possessive kisses and the raw hunger they’d shared. But, much as she missed him, he would never take her back. Not when he discovered the truth.

Her knees threatened to buckle under the weight of her regret. She gritted her teeth and harnessed the last of her self-control. Those wildly romantic days were over, she reminded herself fiercely. It was best not to think of them.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked hoarsely in Italian. Her grasp of the language wasn’t that great, despite her taking a few classes in college. Her struggle to communicate made it even more difficult to get through a day.

Once she’d had big dreams of becoming fluent in Italian, transforming herself into a sophisticated and glamorous woman and taking the city of Rome by storm. She’d wanted to find adventure, beauty and love. For a brief moment she’d had it all in her grasp, but she’d allowed it to slip through her fingers.

Now she worked all day in this dump and had no money. People either ignored her or viewed her as trash. So much for her transformation. She could have gotten that treatment back home. At least then she would know what was being said behind her back. She lived in a room above the café that didn’t have running water or a lock on the door. All she had was the weight of the world on her shoulders and a deep need to survive.

As she took down the order and walked back to the kitchen Isabella realized that she was in danger of getting stuck here. She needed to work harder, faster and smarter if she wanted to return to America in the next few months. Now more than ever she needed to surround herself with the familiar. Find a place where she could keep her head down, work hard and complete her college degree. After all this time yearning for excitement, she now longed to find a safe haven.

But she didn’t think she could keep this up, working long hours and barely getting by. And it was only going to get harder. The thought made her want to drop to the floor in a heap and cry.

Isabella leaned against the kitchen wall. One day she’d get out of this nightmare. She weakly closed her eyes, ignoring her boss’s reprimand to hurry. Soon she’d have enough money to fly back to America. She’d start over and maybe get it right the next time. If there was one thing she could rely on it was learning from her mistakes.

Antonio Rossi surveyed the small sidewalk café. After searching all weekend he was going to face the woman who had almost destroyed him and his family. He strode to an empty table and sat down, his lethal grace concealing the anticipation of battle that was racing through his veins. This time he wasn’t going to fall for Isabella’s big blue eyes and innocent beauty. He would be in command.

He leaned back, his legs sprawled under the tiny table. Sliding dark sunglasses on his nose, Antonio looked at the paint-chipped, rusted furniture. Of all the places he’d thought she would be, he mused as he glimpsed the ratted, faded awning, he hadn’t pictured a dirty little café on the wrong side of Rome.

Why was Isabella living in this filth and poverty? It didn’t make sense. He had opened his world to her. She had lived in his penthouse apartment and shared his bed. She had had his servants to take care of her.

And she’d thrown it all away when she’d slept with his brother.

The knowledge still ate away at him. He had provided Isabella with everything, but it hadn’t been enough. No matter how much he’d given, how hard he’d worked, he hadn’t been able to compare with his brother. It had always been that way.

Still, he had been blindsided by Giovanni’s drunken confession six months ago. Had responded by casting Isabella and Giovanni out of his life. It had been swift and vicious, but they had deserved much worse.

Isabella stepped into his view. Tension gripped Antonio, and he braced himself for the emotional impact as he watched her precariously balance two cappuccinos on a serving tray. He had prepared himself for it, but seeing her was like a punch to his gut as she walked past him.

She wore a thin black T-shirt, a skimpy denim skirt and scuffed black flats, but she still had the power to draw his attention. His gaze lingered on her bare legs. He remembered how they’d felt wrapped around his hips as he drove into her welcoming body.

Antonio exhaled slowly and purged the image from his mind. He would not be distracted by her sexual allure or her innocent face. He had made the mistake of lowering his guard with her. He had trusted Isabella and got close to her. That wouldn’t happen again.

Antonio grimly watched her serve the couple, noticing that she looked different. The last time he’d seen her, she had been asleep in his bed, flushed and naked, her long blonde hair fanning like a halo across the white silk pillow.

Isabella now looked pale and sickly. Her hair fell in a limp ponytail. The curves that had used to make him forget his next thought had diminished. She was bony and frail.

She looked terrible. A cruel smile flickered on the edge of his mouth. Antonio hoped she’d been to hell and back. He was prepared to take her there again.

He’d once believed she was sweet and innocent, but it had all been a lie. Her blushes and slow smiles had disarmed him and he had been convinced that she wanted only him. But her open affection had been a smokescreen.

It turned out that Isabella was a master of the mind game and outplayed the most conniving women in his world, who would lie, cheat and bed-hop to get closer to Gio, heir to the Rossi fortune. Isabella had seduced Antonio with her angelic beauty. Made him believe that he was her first choice. Her only choice. But all that time she had been working her magic on Giovanni.

Isabella turned away from the table and headed towards him. Her head was bent as she grabbed her notepad and pen. Tension coiled inside him, ready to spring. He sat unnaturally still, refusing to make any sudden moves that would alert her to impending danger.

“Are you ready to order?” she asked uninterestedly.

Her hoarse voice was nothing like the husky whisper he remembered.

“Hello, Bella.”

No, no, no!

She looked up sharply and her cloudy eyes cleared as she focused on Antonio. He was here. In front of her. Waiting for her to make the next move, even though they both knew it was useless.

Run. The word screamed through her brain.

Isabella slowly blinked. Maybe she was hallucinating. She hadn’t been herself lately. There was no way Antonio Rossi, billionaire, member of the social elite, would be sitting in this café.

But her imagination couldn’t conjure the electric current coursing through her body from his nearness. Or the panic that stole her breath. Her heart gave a brutal leap before it plummeted.

Does he know? Is that why he’s here?

She couldn’t stop staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Antonio wore a black pinstripe suit, the ruthlessly tailored lines emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean, muscular body. The hand-made shirt and silk tie offered a veneer of civility, but they couldn’t mask his animal magnetism. He was the most sensual man she had ever known, and the most powerful.

Antonio Rossi was also the most callous person she’d met.

Isabella took short, choppy breaths, but she was suffocating with dread. She couldn’t gauge his next move or his next thought. She only knew that it was going to be devastating.

She had been an idiot to get involved with him. He was the kind of man her mother had often warned her about. Antonio would see a woman like her only as a plaything and then discard her when something better came along. Isabella knew all this but she had still been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Even now she felt the pull and she couldn’t stop staring at him.

His eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, but the angles and lines of his savagely masculine face were just as sharp and aggressive as she remembered. Antonio wasn’t beautiful, but his dark, striking looks made women of all ages eager for another glimpse of him.

Run. And don’t look back.

“Antonio?” Her voice was high and reedy. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come for you.”

She shivered. She’d never thought she would see him again or hear those words. But it was too late. She couldn’t go back. She wouldn’t let herself think that it was possible. “Why?”

“Why?” Antonio leaned back in his chair and arrogantly studied her appearance.

Her skin tingled as she felt his lazy gaze sliding over her tired body and cheap clothes. Her pulse tripped before galloping at maximum speed. How much did he know?

She couldn’t tell because his sunglasses hid his eyes. Was he here because he missed the sex? What they had shared had been hot, raw and primitive. It had made her wild, irresponsible and addicted to him. When they were together nothing else had mattered. And if she were smart she would keep her distance before she fell under his spell again.

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


“BELLA!” 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.”

Antonio cast her a look of disbelief. “I would ask for a second opinion.”

“I don’t need one. Now, go away,” she ordered with the flutter of her hand.

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

“You have to,” she urged as she held her head in her hands. “Tell everyone that you couldn’t find me. Tell them that I’m back home.”

It was tempting. He wanted to leave and not look back. Purge her from his memories. Do anything that would erase Isabella from his world. But he knew that was impossible.

“Sorry. I’m not like you. I choose to tell the truth whenever possible.”

She lifted her head to glare at him. “I never lied to you. I never—”

He turned away and checked his watch. “I don’t have time to rehash the past.”

“Rehash?” Isabella’s voice rose angrily. “When did we discuss it the first time around? I thought we were happy. We had been together for weeks and going strong. We had made love throughout the night. The next morning your security woke me up to kick me out. My bag was packed and you wouldn’t take my call. You didn’t tell me why you did that, and you never gave me a chance to talk about it!”

Antonio leaned against the wall by the door. The room felt like it was getting smaller. “I wasn’t in the mood to hear your excuses. I’m even less inclined to now.”

“There was nothing to excuse,” Isabella argued as she rose slowly.

Her movements were wobbly and awkward. Antonio folded his arms so he wouldn’t reach out and help her. He already regretted holding her close. He didn’t like how much effort it had taken to pull away. His fingertips still stung from where he had touched her face.

Isabella looked him in the eye and jutted out her chin. “I did not have an affair.”

He held up his hand. “Enough! I will not discuss it.”

“Typical,” she said with a sigh. “You don’t like to discuss anything. Especially if it’s personal. No matter how hard I tried, you wouldn’t share how you felt. The only time I knew exactly what you were thinking was when we were in bed.”

An intimate and very inconvenient image bloomed in his mind. Of Isabella, naked in his bed, eagerly following his explicit demands. When they’d been alone together he had held nothing back. He had demonstrated how much he wanted Isabella and how much her touch had meant to him. There had been many times when it hadn’t been certain who was in command.

A muscle bunched in his jaw and ferocious energy swirled around him. “We are leaving,” he announced in a gravelly tone. Antonio thrust the door open and waited for Isabella.

“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not signing any papers. I don’t want Giovanni’s money.”

“I’m sure you earned it.” He didn’t want her to know what was at stake here. All he wanted was to end this errand as soon as possible. By whatever means necessary. Antonio walked over to her.

Isabella’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“How times have changed,” he said silkily as he wrapped his hand around her wrist. He ignored her racing pulse under his fingers as he picked up her backpack. “I remember when you begged for my touch.”

Isabella tried futilely to pull out of his grasp. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about the past? Let go of me.”

“I will when we get to my car.” If it was still where he had parked it. Trust Bella to find the most dangerous neighborhood to live in.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Isabella declared as she tried to grab onto the doorframe—but she couldn’t hold on.

“Think again.” He headed for the stairs, dragging her behind him.

“Pushy and selfish,” she muttered. “It must be a Rossi trait. You are just like your brother.”

Antonio stilled as the accusation lashed at him. He slowly turned and faced Isabella. He saw the wariness in her eyes as she backed away. She didn’t get far as his grip tightened around her wrist. “Don’t.”

Isabella’s gaze fell to her feet. “All I meant—”

“I don’t care what you meant.” Her words had clawed open a wound he had valiantly tried to ignore. Were he and Gio interchangeable in Isabella’s mind? How often had she thought of his brother when she’d kissed him? Had she responded the same way in Gio’s bed?

His thoughts turned darker, piercing his soul. Antonio didn’t say anything as he took a step closer to Isabella, backing her against the wall. Why had she chosen Gio over him? Everyone else he knew made that choice, but why Isabella? He had thought she was different. Was it because Gio had been the handsome and charismatic one? Had his brother fulfilled her deepest, darkest fantasies? Or had she actually fallen in love with his brother?

“Antonio?” she whispered with uncertainty.

He stared at Isabella. Her angelic beauty hid a devious nature. Her bold spirit and breathtaking innocence had led him straight to a hell that he might never escape. He blinked slowly as he battled the darkness enveloping him. He wouldn’t let this woman destroy him again.

Antonio released her wrist as if her touch burned. He took a deliberate step back but met her eyes with a steady gaze. “Don’t compare me with my brother. Ever.”

Isabella couldn’t move as she stared into his brown eyes. Her heart twisted and her breath snagged in her throat. Antonio was always so careful not to show his thoughts and emotions, but now they were laid bare before her. The man was in torment.

But just as quickly as he’d exposed his pain his eyes were shuttered. When he opened them again he was back in control, while her emotions were in a jumbled mess.

Antonio turned away from her and Isabella sagged against the wall. She slowly exhaled as her heart pounded in her ears. She felt shaky, her limbs twitching as she watched Antonio take the stairs.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words were just a whisper but she saw Antonio’s rigid stance as he silently deflected her apology.

She hadn’t meant to compare Antonio to his brother. They had very different personalities. It was impossible to confuse the two. Giovanni had been a charmer, with movie star looks, always the life of the party. He’d been entertaining—but not fascinating like Antonio.

The moment she had met Antonio she’d known he was out of her league. She didn’t have the sophistication or sexual knowledge to hold on to him. It hadn’t mattered. She’d only wanted to be with him. Just once.

Isabella remembered when they had first met and he had offered to show her Piazza del Popolo. The sight of him had jolted her as if she had woken from a deep slumber. Her heart had started to race when she saw him.

She knew she had projected an image of being bold and strong. Tough. It had all been an act. It had been her way of protecting herself as she went through the world alone. But the way the man had been looking at her—she had felt brazen. She had wanted to hold on to that feeling.

“I’m Antonio,” he had said, and offered his hand.

She had hesitated at the sight of his expensive cufflinks. It had only been then that she’d noticed he wore a designer suit. His silk tie had probably cost more than her round-trip ticket to Italy. She didn’t know anyone who had that kind of money.

Be careful of the rich ones. Her mother words had drifted in her head. They only want one thing from women like us.

Isabella had smiled. She had decided that it was okay because she was after the same thing.

She had reached for Antonio’s hand and felt a sharp tingle as her skin had glided against his. She hadn’t been able to hide her gasp of surprise. When she had tried to pull away Antonio had wrapped his long, strong fingers around her hand.

Instead of making her feel trapped, his touch had pierced through the gray numbness that had settled in her when she had nursed her mother through her final illness. Her breath had locked in her throat as he’d raised her hand to his mouth.

The earthy colors of Rome had deepened and the sun had turned golden. The blaring sound of traffic had faded as Antonio had brushed his lips against her knuckles. She had known that this man would be the highlight of her vacation. She hadn’t expected to fall in love—and into his bed—with such wild abandon.

She hadn’t expected that she would never be the same again.

Isabella jerked her mind to the present as she saw Antonio disappear from the stairwell with her backpack. Everything she owned—her passport, her money—was in there.

“Wait!” she called out, and hurriedly followed him. She rounded the building and saw Antonio striding down the block. Isabella ran after him. “Antonio, stop!”

He walked to his sports car—a menacing-looking machine that was as black as night. He punched a button on his keyring and the small trunk popped open. Isabella watched in horror as he tossed her backpack in and slammed it shut.

“Give me back my bag,” she said as she reached the car.

“You’ll get it after we visit the lawyers.”

“You don’t understand, Antonio. I have to work.” She gestured at the café on the other end of the block.

“Who cares?” He walked to the driver’s side. “This is more important.”

Spoken like a man who had never had to scrape by or go hungry. “I’m already going to get in trouble for taking an unscheduled break.”

“Unscheduled break? You made a run for it and you weren’t planning to return.”

“I can’t afford to lose this job.” She rubbed her hand over her forehead as she tried to maintain her composure. “If I get fired I lose my room.”

He glanced up at the broken rusted window of her room. “It won’t be that big of a loss.”

Isabella put her hands on her hips. “Maybe not to you, but this job is the only thing that is keeping me from becoming homeless!”

Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “Is this about money?”

“What?” She stared at him across the car.

“Of course it is.”

“It’s about my livelihood,” she corrected him through clenched teeth. Antonio wouldn’t understand about that, having been born into wealth and status. She needed her job because she had no other form of support or resources. Why couldn’t he see that? “Listen, let’s make a compromise. I will go to the lawyers with you once I finish my shift at the café.”

Antonio took another look at his watch. “That’s unacceptable.”

“Seriously? How is that unacceptable? You asked for a favor from me and I just agreed to do it.”

“We both know you are prolonging the inevitable and will try to avoid it. Although I find it very curious that you aren’t asking how much money you will get. Unless, of course, you already know.”

“There’s nothing curious about it,” she said as she folded her arms protectively around her. “The only thing I know is that any money will come with strings attached. I don’t want anything—especially if it means dealing with you or your family.”

Antonio chose to ignore her comment. “I’m not willing to wait around and watch over you until your shift ends.”

“Do you even know how to compromise?” she asked, tossing her hands up in frustration. Of course he didn’t. The world bowed down to him. Just as she had done, once upon a time.

“This is what I know,” he said as he slipped on his sunglasses. “The will was read three days ago. The contents will soon become public.”

Isabella frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He opened the door and sat down in the driver’s seat. “It won’t take long before the paparazzi find you.”

She jerked her head back in surprise. “Paparazzi? What would they want with me?”

“You’re kidding, right? The woman who slept with the Rossi brothers has wound up with a fortune.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. “There is no need to make it sound so salacious.”

“I’m just telling it like it is,” he said impatiently. “Now, get in.”

Isabella hesitated. Giovanni had left her a fortune? That couldn’t be right. Antonio must be exaggerating. If only she could accept the money. But even if she did it would take ages to go through the legal and financial systems and get the cash she so desperately needed.

What would happen to her after she’d signed the documents? She had no home, no money and no protection. She had been working for months to raise the money to get back to California and she didn’t think she would make enough before the paparazzi found her. Could she ask Antonio for help?

She bit her lip as she weighed the pros and cons. Could she ask him? Was she willing to stoop that low? Antonio could easily afford the price of a plane ticket, probably had the cash in his wallet, but it felt wrong.

Antonio leaned back in his seat. “What do you want?”

She took a deep breath. “I need a plane ticket to Los Angeles. For tonight.”

He nodded sharply. “What else?”

She was already regretting her request. She didn’t want anything from Antonio. His presence reminded her of the poor choices she made because she’d been in love. She had fought for him, for them, and he had discarded her without a second thought. As much as it pained her to think about it, her mother had been right. She hated it when that happened.

“That’s it.”

He tipped his sunglasses and studied her face. “I don’t believe you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she replied. “But I mean it. I don’t want anything else.”

“That will change soon,” he said as he started the engine.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I shall consider this a loan,” she said as the car purred to life. “I’ll pay you back once I get settled.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is,” she insisted. “It wouldn’t be right to take your money.”

“I don’t care about the money.” Antonio said. “Get in the car.”

Isabella hesitated. Was that wise? The man hated her. He thought she’d betrayed him. Then again, he probably wanted her out of Italy and out of his life as soon as possible. She had nothing to worry about.

“Bella …” Antonio’s tone warned of his growing impatience.

Isabella opened the door and sat down before she changed her mind. “Don’t expect me to stay long,” she said as she reached for the seatbelt. “I’ll sign the papers and then I’m gone.”

And if she were lucky she would never see Antonio again.




CHAPTER THREE


“THIS is a law office?” Isabella asked as she studied the old building. “I haven’t seen one like this before.”

Antonio glanced up and saw that the façade was pale, almost pink-gold. He noticed the faded mosaics next to the arched windows and pillars. It was strange that he’d never really looked at the building before.

“Where did you think I would take you?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” she muttered.

They entered the dark and musty building. It was unnaturally quiet and the only sound was their footsteps as they climbed the stairs. The silence Antonio shared with Isabella felt strange but he was grateful for it. He didn’t need to think about the easy conversations they’d once had that would last throughout the night. He didn’t want to remember how he’d used to call her up during the day just to hear her voice. He wanted the barrier of silence. Needed it.

The receptionist took one look at Isabella and sniffed with disapproval. Antonio glared at the dour woman, letting her know that he wouldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior. The woman bent her head from the silent reprimand and icily escorted them to the conference room.

When the door opened Antonio saw his mother, sitting regally next to the ornate rosewood table. Dressed severely in black, Maria Rossi was as elegant and private as always. She was trying to hide her distress, but he instantly saw it in her face.

“Mother, why are you here?” Antonio asked. “Your presence isn’t required.”

His mother’s expression darkened when she saw Isabella at her side. “Is this the woman?”

“This is Isabella Williams,” Antonio said with a hint of warning.

He reluctantly introduced Isabella to his mother. He had hoped to prevent these two women from meeting. With one wintry glance Maria made it clear what she thought of Isabella. She knew this blonde beauty was the reason her sons had been estranged.

Antonio’s first instinct was to protect Isabella from the slight. But that didn’t make sense. She was in the wrong and should suffer the consequences. She had created a scandal when she’d started living with Giovanni. The paparazzi had gone into a feeding frenzy, and had Antonio borne the brunt of the gossip. But he still couldn’t stand by and watch Isabella receive this treatment.

Most socialites he knew would have wilted under his mother’s apparent disgust. To his surprise, Isabella tilted her head proudly. She wasn’t going to back down or hang her head in shame. She stood before this doyenne of high society in her cheap clothes, with her tarnished name, and held her gaze unflinchingly.

His mother was the first to break eye contact. She turned to him. “I can’t bear to be in the same room with her.”

Isabella showed no expression as she watched Maria Rossi leave the room and closed the door with a flourish.

“I apologize for my mother’s behavior,” Antonio said, fighting back anger. “I’ll see that it doesn’t happen again.”

“No need,” Isabella crossed her arms and walked to the large window. “I know you feel the same way.”

Antonio watched her as she stared at the view of the Pantheon. He suspected she wasn’t really looking at anything. It was as if she was in another time, another place, trapped in a memory.

If only he could do the same. His mind was always racing, predicting problems and creating solutions. He required an outlet for his inexhaustible energy and found it in his work. The money and power that came along with it wasn’t important. Antonio needed the challenge, to push himself to the razor’s edge.

There had been one time when he hadn’t felt that drive, and that had been when he was with Isabella. When they’d been together nothing else had existed. Isabella Williams had been his escape. And eventually his downfall.

“What did you tell your mother about me?” Isabella grimaced as the question sprang from her lips. She hadn’t meant to ask, but it was obvious that her reputation had preceded her. Isabella knew she shouldn’t care but it bothered her.

There was something about Antonio’s mother that intimidated her. The woman was beautifully groomed, from her coiffed hair to her pedicured feet, but she also had an aura of power. No one would treat Maria Rossi with anything less than respect. Isabella had felt grubby next to her.

“We never discussed you,” he said stiffly.

She wouldn’t be surprised if that were true. Antonio rarely discussed his family. Everything she knew about his mother and his late father had come from Giovanni. And he’d probably been just as private about his love life with his family.

Isabella turned and approached Antonio. “But she knows you and I were once together?”

“Not from me.”

“Giovanni?” No wonder his mother hated her.

“My mother was prying into the reason why her sons weren’t on speaking terms again.” Antonio crossed his arms and looked away. “I’m sure Gio concocted some story that made him look like the innocent victim.”

“Again?” Her tired brain caught onto that word. “You and Giovanni had been estranged before?”

Antonio’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”

She felt the weight of guilt lift a little. All this time she’d thought she had ruined the strong bond between brothers. “But how could that be?” she asked as she remembered Giovanni and Antonio together. They’d had a tendency to use the same expressions, finish each other’s sentences. “You two were close.”

Antonio shrugged. “Gio had been trying to make amends and was on his best behavior. It was one of the few times we got along.”

“Why did you accept him back into your life?” That didn’t seem like something Antonio would do. You screwed up once and you were banished from Antonio’s life. You didn’t get another chance.

“I thought he had changed.” He sighed. “I wanted him to change.”

She saw the grief in his expression. She wanted to reach out and bring him comfort, but she knew Antonio would not appreciate the gesture. “How old were you when you first stopped talking to each other?”

His harsh features tightened. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

“Why not?”

“I answered your questions, now it’s my turn.”

Isabella jerked her head back. She saw the intensity in his eyes, the determined set of his jaw. Was he really trying to deflect her questions or had this all been a technique to draw her closer? Make her think he was opening up to her so she would feel obligated to do the same?

Isabella braced her shoulders. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Why did Gio include you in his will?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t ask him to.” But she suspected she knew the answer. Giovanni had been playing games and now she was going to lose everything.

“The lawyers say that Gio changed his will a month ago.”

Isabella paled. That could not be a coincidence. “S-so?”

Antonio tilted his head to one side as he studied her face. “You know why. No one else does. No one knows why he gave you millions.”

“M-millions?” she whispered. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“And half the shares in Rossi Industries.”

“What?” The shock reverberated through her body.

“He gave you half my birthright,” Antonio said in a growl.

She clapped her hand over her mouth. Oh, Giovanni. What have you done? Why did you do this?

“I lost part of my birthright once before,” his said, his voice a harsh whisper. “I have no intention of losing it again.”

Isabella frowned. She felt like she was missing crucial information. “What are you talking about?”

Antonio didn’t hear her. “Why did Gio give all this to you? Why not the woman he was dating? Why not a woman who meant something to him? Why you?”

“Antonio …” She braced her legs and held her clenched hands at her sides. She didn’t have the nerve to tell him. She didn’t want to face the consequences.

“Was it so I would be required to work with the woman who had cheated on me?”

Had Giovanni done this out of spite? For his own perverse pleasure? It was possible …

“Or did you seduce it out of him? I admit you’re good in bed—but that good?”

Isabella felt the heat in her cheeks. If only she could run away. The moment she uttered the next words everything would change. Everything would be lost.

“It’s because I’m p-pregnant.”

He stared at her in shock. Isabella hunched her shoulders, preparing for the world to fall around her as struggled to get the words out.

She nervously licked her lips before she added, “And Giovanni is the father.”

Antonio staggered back as if he had been punched. His body went numb and his mind whirled. His world tilted and he swayed. He wanted to grab hold of something so he wasn’t brought to his knees, but that meant reaching out to Isabella. The one woman who still had the power to hurt him.

“You …”

Isabella was having his brother’s baby. Gio had known and hadn’t told him. The pain radiated through his body.

“But I didn’t have an affair with him. I swear.”

An affair. A fling. Sex. It was all the same.

Antonio held up his hand. Rage billowed through him, crimson, hot and bitter. “You’re pregnant,” he said, as if he was in a daze. “How many months?”

She held her hands in front of her stomach. “I’m just past the first trimester.”

“Three months?” he muttered as the fury seized his throat.

“Antonio, you have to believe me,” she pleaded. “I only slept with him one time.”

He fought back the red mist that threatened to overtake him. “Only? Is a one-night stand supposed to make me feel better?” he asked in a low, biting tone. Was he supposed to believe that when she had lived with Giovanni for weeks?

Isabella’s face tightened with anger. “How many women have you slept with since we broke up?”

“That’s not the issue. Those women were not the reason we broke up.” He would not allow Isabella to distract him. “I kicked you out because you were sleeping with my brother. Now you’re telling me you’re carrying his child.”

“It happened the night I heard on the news that you were going to marry someone else.” Isabella spoke haltingly, as if the memory still tormented her.

“And that’s your excuse?” He stared at her. He didn’t know if she was feeding him lies or if she was planning to thrust another knife in his back.

“No. I’m trying to explain.” She covered her face with her hands. “I was emotional and I drank far too much. I had been like that for weeks. I was self-destructive and I made a lot of poor choices during that time. I’m not proud of what I did.”

But she had done it. Would she have told him about Giovanni if she wasn’t pregnant, or would she have taken her secret to the grave?

“Do you wind up in the nearest bed whenever you drink?”

She slowly lowered her hands. “I’m not sure what happened that night.”

“How convenient.”

She glared at him. “All I know is that I was an emotional mess. You had kicked me out, you didn’t want to have anything to do with me, and then I heard you were planning a future with another woman.”

“And what better way to get back at me than by sleeping with my brother?” He’d used to think Isabella was sweet and innocent, but she had hidden a vengeful streak. The people closest to him had warned him about Isabella, but he hadn’t listened. He’d thought he knew everything about her. But it turned out he didn’t know her at all.

“I didn’t know about your history with Giovanni.” Isabella stood rigid in front of him, her clenched fists at her sides. “I didn’t know you had discarded me like a piece of trash because you thought I’d had an affair with your brother.”

“And look at what you did,” Antonio said. The red mist was creeping in and he was feeling dangerous. Out of control like never before. Antonio shoved his shaky hands in his pockets.

“Giovanni planned this!” she blurted out. “He took advantage of me.”

“I’m sure he got you into bed in record time.” Bile rose from his stomach and he wanted to be violently ill.

She thrust out her chin. “I’m not like that,” she said in a trembling voice.

“Yes, you are,” he said with a sneer. “You were with me.”

Isabella eyes widened as if she’d been hit. “You throw that back in my face?” she asked in a shocked whisper. “What we had was different. It was special. It was—”

“Part of your routine,” he finished coldly. “Only Gio got you pregnant. Was that planned or an unexpected bonus? Is that why he kicked you out?”

“He didn’t kick me out. I left the next morning,” she told him, her voice wobbling with emotion. “I didn’t feel safe there anymore. I ran as fast as I could.”

Antonio frowned and he crossed his arms. Her explanation niggled at him. Something didn’t add up. “Then how did he know about the baby?”

“I told him when I found out. That was a month ago.”

And his brother had changed his will a month ago. “What did Gio say?”

“Not much.” Isabella looked away abruptly.

“Isabella,” he warned in a firm tone, “tell me.”

Her shoulders sagged in defeat and her expression turned grim. “He laughed,” she answered. “He said, ‘Antonio will never touch you now!’ and he laughed like a madman.”

Antonio took a step back. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he was. He hadn’t fully appreciated the depth of his brother’s hatred.

“And he was right.” She gestured at him, the simple movement indicating her disappointment. “He knew exactly how you’d react if you found out the truth.”

“That’s why you ran away at the café?” Isabella had been afraid of how he would react. And she was smart, because right now he wanted to lash out. He wanted to smash and destroy everything around him. “You are not the woman I thought you were.”

“That’s not true,” she spat angrily. “You just want to hear bad things about me. It’s easier for you because you’re looking for my faults.”

Easier? He felt like he had been ripped apart. He was never going to be the same again.

She gulped in a ragged breath. “I want you to know that I didn’t cheat on you.”

“How can I know that? How can I believe you weren’t sleeping with my brother from the first day you met him?”

“I have no way of proving it. Why can’t you—?”

A polite knock on the double doors interrupted them. Isabella jumped back and pressed her lips together as a withered old man with snowy white hair in a black three-piece suit entered the room.

Antonio tried to rein in his emotions as he tersely introduced the lawyer to Isabella. The older man invited her into his office and she silently followed. As she passed Antonio he grabbed Isabella’s wrist, forcing her to stop.

“This discussion isn’t over,” he said.

“Yes, it is,” she said coldly as she pulled away from his grasp. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. You have no rights over me or my child.”

Isabella walked through the door and the lawyer followed. Antonio stared at the closed door, his body rigid as an idea formed.

“Not yet,” Antonio murmured. “But I once I do there will be hell to pay.”




CHAPTER FOUR


“I’M GOING to be a grandmother.” Maria Rossi sighed and clasped her hands together. “Gio’s child. Oh, I hope it will look just like him.”

“I’m glad to see you’re taking this well,” Antonio muttered as he’d paced the floor of the conference room. He should have left his mother in the waiting room but he had to tell her that their situation had changed. Their strategy had been blown apart by Isabella’s bombshell.

“I admit Gio had no business putting her in the will.” His mother’s voice was thick with annoyance. “Giving money and power to that woman.”

“He did it to cut me out.”

“No, Gio wouldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t,” she insisted as he made a face. “That woman bewitched him. He wasn’t thinking straight. I can understand making provision for the child—but all that money?” Maria shuddered delicately. “We don’t know if it’s even his.”

“We’ll find out.” But Antonio’s instincts told him that the baby was Gio’s. His brother wouldn’t have pulled this stunt unless he had been absolutely sure. Gio wanted his child to inherit and gave Isabella the power over the money and shares until the child comes of age.

“Gio told me himself that that Jezebel seduced him,” his mother continued. “You both should have known better. I don’t know what either of you saw in the woman.”

He could easily make a list of things he had seen in Isabella, but it would scandalize his mother. Antonio raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“There’s only one way a girl like her can land a rich man. She has to get pregnant.”

Antonio slammed his hand against the mahogany table so hard that Maria jumped. “That’s enough.” It also wasn’t true. Isabella had had him wrapped around her little finger without an unplanned pregnancy.

“Temper, temper,” Maria said as she patted her chignon. “If you plan to get full control of the Rossi fortune you need to show some patience.”

Antonio walked to the window and leaned against the pane. “I have one or two plans,” he admitted. He wasn’t happy about either of them. Both required him to get very close to the woman who betrayed him.

“How many months along is she?”

He had been reluctant to ask for details, but at the same time his mind was filled with questions. “She says she’s at least three months pregnant. I kicked her out the last week of May, so I know the baby isn’t mine. She left Gio on the first of July and that fits the timeframe.”

“You need to do something.”

“I know. It leaves me two options. I can seduce her into giving up her inheritance and leaving the country for good.”

But history had proved that he didn’t have an infinite amount of sexual power over her. Isabella had left his bed to go into Gio’s. He wasn’t sure if he could seduce Isabella knowing she was carrying his brother’s child.

“No,” his mother said firmly. “That child is the only thing I have left of Gio. I want it to be part of my life.”

Antonio inhaled sharply as jagged pain burned through him. His mother had had no problem banning him from her life when he had needed her the most. But then she’d still had Gio around.

“What is the second option?” she asked.

“Marry her and adopt the child as my own. That way I would have full control over the Rossi fortune.”

He had never thought about becoming a father. As the second son, he’d felt no pressure to sire an heir. Now he might be required to accept Gio’s child as his own. That baby would be a constant reminder of betrayal.

“That would be perfect,” his mother said. “We wouldn’t have to give up anything.”

Just his freedom, Antonio thought he looked out of the window and gazed at the Pantheon. And his peace of mind. If there had been any other way he wouldn’t have gone looking for Isabella. Now he might have to bind himself to the cheating vixen for the rest of his life.

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Isabella said as she entered Antonio’s penthouse apartment. She heard the door close behind her and flinched when she heard it lock.

“I agree,” Antonio said, “but the paparazzi have already found out about your windfall and my home is the safest place. Anyway, it’s only for one night.”

Isabella scoffed. As if that meant anything. She had slept with Antonio within hours of meeting him. But she wasn’t going to tumble into his bed again, she reminded herself. He didn’t want her anymore. He had someone else in his life.





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