Billionaires: The Hero: A Deal for the Di Sione Ring / The Last Di Sione Claims His Prize / The Baby Inheritance. Maisey Yates
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But since this is clearly not a good time, as you say, I can come ba—”
“What ring?” Her dark gaze fixed on his.
“The Fountain Ring with the sapphire in it.”
Her eyes widened. “How do you know about that ring?”
“My private investigator tracked it down for me. I want to purchase it.”
“Why?”
“It has...sentimental value for someone close to me.”
A woman walking down the avenue gave them a curious look. Lina stepped back and motioned for him to come in. He stepped in and she shut the door behind him.
“I am...Mina Mastrantino,” she said haltingly, digging her teeth into her bottom lip in that trademark nervous tic of hers. “I—I don’t use my real name when I work. But you can’t—I mean—please keep that between us.”
Who was he going to tell? And—what? Lina was Mina? Why in God’s name was she working as a chambermaid?
Lina, or rather Mina, gestured to a room to the left. “Please come in. Sit down.”
He walked past her into the richly appointed, slightly outdated salon which had clearly once been the showpiece of the villa with its hand-carved fireplaces, crystal chandeliers and elegant arches. Mina followed and indicated a chair for Nate while she perched on a sofa. He sat down, his gaze moving over the distraught bride’s face.
Her eyes were full of turmoil as she lifted them to his. “I would love to sell you the ring, Signor Brunswick, but unfortunately, I cannot.”
“Nate,” he corrected. She had seen him in a towel, after all. “And why not?”
“It’s a family heirloom. My father bequeathed it to me upon my marriage.”
He looked pointedly at her expensive wedding dress. “Which is happening today...”
“Yes.” Her lips started to quiver again, a tear escaping those dark-as-night eyes.
His blood pressure shot through the roof. Dear Lord, he didn’t need this right now. He really didn’t.
“Mina.” He moved across the room to sit beside her on the sofa, likely not the smartest move given the chemistry between them, but he couldn’t help himself as he lifted a hand to her delicate jaw to turn her face to him. Her dark lashes were soaked with tears that ran down her cheek like sparkling crystals. Her sultry mouth was vulnerable and bare of color. Undeniably enticing. But it was the dark shadow on her cheek the sunlight pouring in through the windows revealed that caught his attention. Turned his blood to ice.
He knew it was none of his business, knew he should walk out the door right now and come back tomorrow, but he couldn’t seem to move. He was a smart man. He could put two and two together and he did not like what he saw.
“Your fiancé,” he said quietly, dangerously, “gave you that bruise on your cheek?”
Her fingers flew up to cover it. “Oh, no, I—”
“Mina...”
She stared at him, dropped her head into her hands and sobbed.
Dammit all. Nate wrapped his arm around her and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her against his chest. She stiffened against him as if ready to bolt, then another sob racked her petite body and she melted into him, her tears soaking his shirt. Shredding his self-possession.
He held her as she cried, ruthlessly commanding his all too aware body that the soft curves that fit so perfectly against him were utterly off-limits. His hand stroked her silky hair, nudging some curly tendrils free from the perfect knot as her sobs dissolved into sniffles, but he didn’t care. She was trembling like a leaf.
“Tell me,” he ordered, “what is going on here.”
She shook her head. “Silvio—my fiancé—he’s a very powerful man. He would kill me if I said anything.”
He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Funny thing about that, Mina, but I’m a powerful man, too, and I don’t hit my women. Silvio who?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Silvio Marchetti. He owns half of Sicily. You really don’t want to get mixed up with him.”
He would like to get very mixed up with Silvio Marchetti right now. Violently, aggressively mixed up with Silvio Marchetti. Unfortunately, he wasn’t here for him to inflict the desired punishment.
“Why are you marrying a monster?”
Her dark eyes shone like polished ebony. “He is my mother’s choice. It’s been...arranged.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “That still happens?”
“Here it does.”
“Does your mother know he hits you?”
Her chin wobbled.
Hell. “Tell her you won’t.”
“I have. I—we need this match.”
“Why?” She could hardly need it.
Mina shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone is at the church already. I am marrying Silvio in front of half of Palermo in—” she looked at her watch “—less than an hour.”
“Call it off,” he grated. “You can’t possibly marry him, Mina. Look at you.”
She pushed a hand against his chest to get up. He held her firm. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because we need the money,” she bit out. “I need to marry to get the ring so I can sell it and pay off our debts. My mother and I are bankrupt. That’s why I was working at the hotel.”
So she was going to marry a violent man to make that happen?
He let her go. Watched as she stood and paced the room, the train of her dress following behind her. “Why not marry someone of your own choosing, then?”
“I told you already.” She stopped and jammed her hands on her hips. “My mother arranged the match. Silvio was the last of a dozen candidates she put forward. I am out of choices.”
“Why did you reject the others?”
“Because I didn’t love them.”
Oh, boy. She was one of those. He hated to burst Ms. Mastrantino’s bubble at this particular dire moment in time but... “Love is a myth, Mina.” He gave her a hard look. “Find a man you’re comfortable with, who treats you right, and marry him.”
“It’s too late for that.” Her gaze swung to the window, a frantic, trapped look in her eyes. “The carriage will be here any minute.”
He studied the tension in every muscle of her slim body. The panicked aura that wove itself around her. She was truly terrified. And why not? She was about to marry an abusive man in minutes.
In that moment, he realized he could not leave Mina here to suffer that fate. It was insane, ludicrous. He had certainly never pegged himself as anyone’s Prince Charming, but he was not walking away and abandoning this vulnerable woman to a violent man. It went against every code of honor his mother had drilled into him.
He stood up and joined her at the window. She turned to look at him, a glazed, resigned expression on her face. “What would you do if you had a choice?” he asked. “If you could marry someone other than Silvio and sell the ring?”
“I would pay off our debts,” she said quietly, “walk away and start a new life for myself.”
“Silvio will be furious,” he said. “To have his bride jilt him at the altar in front of the whole city. You would have to leave town. And quickly.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “I was merely speaking in ‘what ifs.’ Of course I would never do it. It’s