Ruthless Revenge: Priceless Proposal: The Sicilian's Surprise Wife / Secret Heiress, Secret Baby / Guardian to the Heiress. Margaret Way
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“Is he in love with her, do you think?” she said, turning her mind away from what lay ahead.
“I would have said no. But I have changed my opinion about Rocco and Olivia, so who knows?” He tucked his hands into his pockets and took a few more steps. “I didn’t realize running away was a habit of yours.”
The bland smile falling from her face, Clio looked up. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You did it that night at the Empire State Building instead of confronting that jerk. You did it today.”
“I did...no such thing.”
“Olivia said you looked like you were having an anxiety attack. She was concerned for you, just as I was.” There was almost a fond note in his tone for Rocco’s wife. “Why did you leave?”
“There seems to be a lot of friction between Christian and Rocco.”
“Rocco will need time to forgive Christian for tangling with his little sister. But the fact that he is here shows how much Alessandra means to him.”
“I felt like I was intruding.”
“Zayed and I were right there.”
“You are a part of each other’s lives. Rocco and Christian need your support to get through this rough patch. I’m little more than a stranger.”
“No. You and I know very well that you were actually a good buffer back there. Those stories you had of the four of us from Columbia made everyone laugh. Everyone took a collective breath.”
He reached her and tugged her hand into his. Instant charge crackled around them.
“You said the female students at Columbia used to be supremely envious of you and at the same time sugared you up so that they could get a tidbit about one of us. What did you call yourself?”
She had felt his gaze on her like a physical caress all through the lunch. Now it disconcerted her to know that he remembered every word she had said. The intensity of his attention kept her wondering what about her interested him so. “The Gateway to the Columbia Four.”
He smiled at that and warmth filled his gaze. “Rocco has been like a mad bull all this time but even he cracked a smile there. Then you were gone. I thought you had bolted.”
“And where would I go? By bringing me here aboard your private jet, you made sure I had nowhere to go except with you. You even had them unpack my stuff and take my passport. Do not manipulate me, Stefan.”
Ice coated his words. “I was doing it for your own good.”
Clio couldn’t back down. If she didn’t take a stand now, she never would. Their relationship or the facade of it, was a temporary one. But still, she wanted to set the right tone for it.
Never again would she let her sense of identity be lost in a man.
“Don’t presume to know it better than me.”
“But isn’t that what love-struck fiancés do, bella? Cater to your every need and whim? Cosset you in luxuries and act possessive? Know what’s good for you better than yourself?”
Clio flinched, the ease with which he used her history to make his point cruelly efficient.
The hardness didn’t budge from his expression. “We’re supposed to be falling in love even now. You think the world will buy that Stefan Bianco let his almost-intended fly economy on a commercial airline?”
“Maybe the world will think that Stefan Bianco finally met a woman who doesn’t fall at his feet?” she retorted, lifting her chin.
He smiled and ran a finger over her chin, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“How come you have no trouble putting me in place, bella?” Moving closer, he laid his hands on her bare shoulders and turned her toward the terrace. “Do you know how you looked from the terrace, Clio?”
Not trusting that she could find her voice, Clio shook her head. Even with the sun shining above them, the heat of his body behind her was like a caress.
She should move away, she knew. Stop him from continuing, at least. Cut this line of conversation before it began.
There was no space for personal observations or shared experiences between them. There was nothing but a common, twisted goal. But something in the honeyed tone of his voice locked the words in her throat.
His finger landed on her chin and tilted it up, facing away from the sun.
“Shall I tell you?”
He was taunting her. He knew that she was standing on the precipice of retreating. He was daring her, even as he was certain of her cowardice.
She had read that the Parthenon had served as a church, a mosque, even a munitions depot during the Turkish occupation of Greece.
Yet there it stood today, majestic, beautiful, a monument to one of the greatest civilizations of the world.
And she, she was afraid of hearing one man’s opinion of her. Was afraid of even facing the truth that was in his eyes.
Everything about her life was in ruins just like the Parthenon. But she decided to take the chance. Just for that moment, she would choose to be unafraid. She would pretend she had become the woman she wanted to be when she had set out for Columbia University.
She would pretend that when a man like Stefan Bianco looked at her, there was not resigned concern or eviscerating censure at what she had done to her life. But admiration and respect... The way he had looked at her once.
The base of his palm was hard and unyielding against her lower back. Her skin burned with every ridge and line leaving an imprint on her skin.
Turning toward him, she met his gaze, fighting the urge to pull away and to run far. “Tell me how I looked, Stefan.”
The green of his eyes widened just a bit. That she had surprised him, she clutched it to her like a reward for her bravery.
“With that cream dress only covering one shoulder, your hair flying behind you, the sun turning your skin golden, you looked like the goddess Athena herself. For a few seconds, you had me stunned. And it has been a while since I let myself believe in any kind of myth.”
Bitter laughter spilled from Clio’s mouth and got lost in the vastness around her. “Goddess Athena was supposed to have been fierce and brave. I’m nothing like her, Stefan.” Turning away from him, she sighed. “You were right. I ran away from the terrace because I couldn’t breathe there.”
“Why?”
“Let it go, Stefan.”
“No.”
“Haven’t you seen enough? Won’t you leave me with even a facade to hide behind?”
“No, I won’t. Better me than the whole world, bella, than the corrupt man you left behind. Jackson won’t meekly accept our engagement. There’s only going to be more—”
“Light on me, yeah? I know.”
How pathetic was she that for a minute she’d thought he insisted because he cared. How easily she fell into her own trap of wanting to matter...
She was nothing but a means to an end for Stefan. Just as she had been to Jackson. Only with Stefan, there were no lies, no deception.
“I saw Olivia Fitzgerald, the supermodel. I saw Alessandra Mondelli, world-famous photographer. Every woman who was in there was someone who had made a life for herself in the world, someone who carved a niche for what she exceled in. Then I caught my reflection in the jug. Who’d think a jug could do so much for you, right?”
And both women, while beautiful and successful, had men who respected them and loved them.
“Here