Italian Bachelors: Irresistible Sicilians. Michelle Smart
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She made no attempt to hide her disbelief. ‘How would you describe yourself?’
‘I’m a businessman.’
‘Hmm. So it’s normal behaviour for businessmen to live in the Sicilian equivalent of Fort Knox and travel everywhere with armed guards? Is it also normal for businessmen to beat people?’
His eyes had blackened, his nostrils flared. ‘What, exactly, do you mean by that?’
‘Do you remember a couple of days or so before I left you, I went with you to the casino? Do you remember when I walked into the office and that man was in there with you all? Do you remember him? Because I do. Even though you marched me out straight away, I got a good look at his face. I saw that man a few days later in Palermo. Both of his arms had been broken and his face looked as if he’d been in a boxing match against an opponent twice his size.’
While she had no time for Luca’s nightclubs, she’d liked spending time in his casinos, especially the one in Palermo. She’d come to enjoy their nights out there, dining in the à la carte restaurant and playing cards. The night she had been referring to had been their last night out together. She had been playing poker, a game she was good at, but her frequent yawns had got the better of her. She’d wanted to go home and go to bed, preferably with her husband.
Luca had been nowhere to be found on the gaming floor, so she had wandered off to the security offices on the top floor. Being one of the bosses’ wives meant she had access to anywhere she desired.
She had found him in the nondescript office used by the duty manager.
The man in question had been sitting in a chair in the middle of the room surrounded by Luca, Francesco and two men she didn’t know. Those two men, with their broken noses and cauliflower ears, had given her the heebie-jeebies.
She could still taste the testosterone of that office, could still feel the menacing atmosphere that had greeted her when she walked through the door.
All the men had fixed their eyes on her, their surprise that she’d barged in on them palpable.
‘Everything all right?’ she had asked with a naivety she looked back on with disgust.
‘We’re in the middle of a meeting,’ Luca had said curtly, striding over to her.
‘Are you going to be much longer? Only I’m tired and want to go home.’
‘We will not be long.’ He’d taken her arm and ushered her to the door. ‘Wait for me in the bar. I’ll be with you shortly.’
He’d shut her out before she could make a whisper of protest.
She’d stared at the offending door for too long, an uneasiness creeping through her bones to go with the shock of her own husband frogmarching her from the room. There had been something about the man in the chair’s expression that kept flashing through her mind.
When she had challenged Luca about it on the drive home, he’d dismissed the matter, refusing to discuss it.
She’d dropped the subject but the man in the chair had haunted her. The more she’d thought about it, the more convinced she’d become that it had been a pleading terror she had seen in his eyes.
A couple of days later she had walked out of a pharmacy in Lebbrossi and come face to face with him. He’d almost fallen into the road in his haste to get away from her.
She’d watched him hurry away, utterly bewildered. Stuffed in the bottom of her handbag, away from the prying eyes of her minders, had been a pregnancy test.
‘That man was cheating the casino,’ Luca said, finally breaking the silence that had sprung between them.
‘And?’ She was being deliberately facetious. She wanted him to spell it out to her. She wanted to watch him justify breaking the bones of a fellow human being.
‘And here in Sicily we have our own methods for dealing with people who try to cheat us,’ he said coolly. ‘Lessons need to be learned.’
‘That was one hell of a lesson. That poor man recognised me as your wife. I swear he looked as if he’d come face to face with the Medusa.’
‘That poor man stole over a hundred thousand euros from us.’
‘Ooh, yes, I can totally see how that would justify smashing his face in.’ Sick to the pit of her stomach, Grace shook her head. Her tortellini had gone cold but she didn’t care. Her appetite had deserted her.
‘Believe me, he got off lightly.’
‘Lightly? Lightly? What planet are you on? How can you even try to justify—?’
‘Rules are rules, and breaking them merits punishment, as that man knew very well. He didn’t just steal from us, he dishonoured us. He’s lucky I’m a reasonable man and refused to counter a harsher punishment.’
She stared at him open-mouthed. A harsher punishment...?
‘That man had a family,’ he continued. ‘At my insistence we agreed to give him time to repay the money. But we couldn’t let him leave without serving a warning, not just to him but to any other man foolish enough to try and steal from us.’
She shook her head again, trying to make sense of it all. ‘So what you’re saying is, you took me home and made love to me that night, minutes after beating him.’
‘No. I never raised a finger to him.’ The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. ‘I had a wife I wished to take home and make love to.’
‘You might not have raised a finger to him but your hands are still tainted with his blood.’
The half-smile dropped. ‘This isn’t a school playground, Grace.’
‘Isn’t it? From what I remember of school, it was always the bullies who ruled the roost. And you wonder why I ran away from you when I found out I was pregnant? Who in their right mind would bring a child into this life?’
His eyes blackened. It was like looking into an abyss.
Lily had dozed off on her shoulder, for which she would be eternally grateful. This was not a conversation she wanted her daughter to hear even if she was far too young to understand it.
Surprisingly, being in a public place made the whole thing easier. It meant she had to keep a rein on herself. It meant Luca had to keep his control too.
Taking a deep breath, she forced her attention back on him. At moments like this it pained her heart to look at him, physically hurt to recall how deeply she had loved him.
It hurt even more to know that, despite everything he had done, he still had the power to affect her more than anyone. Deep inside her existed an ache to turn back the clock, to have stayed at home that fateful day, to stick her head back in the sand. To be happy again.
But Pandora’s box, once opened, could not be unopened. She had seen that poor man’s face and she had known.
Luca’s secretiveness. The increased security detail that had already been large enough to shame a head of state. His growing reluctance to let her even leave the estate, never mind go anywhere without him. These were all things that had festered but were forgotten about the minute she was with him. When they were together, making love, and she knew she was the centre of his earth, she would forget all her doubts.
She would forget her worries about his drinking and how a glass of Scotch seemed to be permanently welded to his hand. She’d pretend not to see days of unshaven thick black stubble across his strong jawline. She’d pretend not to notice the wildness that resided in his eyes when she caught him in an unguarded moment.
Ironically enough, since he’d found her again, looks-wise it was like being back with the Luca she had married rather than the Luca she had left. But that wildness in his eyes remained. That edge to him that had been there from the start—the same edge she had thought romantic—was as strong as it had ever been. Stronger.