Chapter Ten #2
She folded her arms so tightly her breasts plumped high against the demure neckline of her dress.
She should have looked ridiculous with that fussy, frou-frou dress.
But she was still Stella and, even disguised as an overblown meringue, she was as sexy as hell.
The animal part of his brain had noticed immediately, which was one of the reasons he’d been grateful for his anger, since it diverted him from the need to reach out and haul her into his arms.
Even after all that had happened, he wasn’t anything like immune to her.
Immune! At the villa you’d almost convinced yourself she was an innocent. You wanted to keep her with you.
Until the investigator’s report scared her off. If she’d had nothing to hide she’d have stayed to talk with him, explain it all. Instead she’d run like a thief in the night. Like a spy sent by her appalling father.
‘You can’t expect me to believe you wanted to marry Morosi.
You weren’t thinking of him when we were inseparable.
How often did you call my name as you climaxed?
You begged for my touch.’ He paused to suck air into cramped lungs, memories coming thick and fast. ‘Was there anywhere in my villa we didn’t have sex, Stella?
I can’t think of one. Don’t try to pretend you were Morosi’s loyal fiancée then.
If that dossier hadn’t arrived you’d still be in my bed. ’
And they’d both be enjoying every moment.
That was at the core of Gio’s wrath. They’d shared something spectacular, something that had moved him, made him wonder for the first time if his determination to avoid deep connections was flawed.
Yet she’d turned her back and run away. He hadn’t been ready for it to end. He still wasn’t ready, and he was convinced she wasn’t either.
This wasn’t just about understanding Barbieri’s plans to best him. What drove Gio was the marrow-deep certainty that he and Stella had unfinished business.
The car made a tight turn into the private airfield, past his security staff manning the gates.
Minutes later there was a blare of car horns. Gio turned to see the gates barred to the vehicles pulling up outside. One was adorned with flowers and a trailing ribbon.
The limo halted. By the time Gio and his driver had circled the car Stella was standing on the hot tarmac, staring in disbelief. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’
He stood close enough to register the lush scent of lilacs.
He found it strangely reassuring that despite everything, including the huge bouquet of exotic blooms she’d carried in the church, Stella smelled the same.
The fragrance of lilacs had teased his memory for months.
Now the writhing tension in his belly eased just a little. ‘You’re scared of flying?’
She swung around in a flare of satin and lace. ‘You didn’t mention a helicopter. You said we’d talk.’
Had he? It must be true then. Right now, standing close to the woman he’d craved for months, he could think of things he’d rather do.
Beyond the fence shouts erupted. Metal clanged as if someone had hit the tall gates.
Gio shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘We need peace and quiet for that. We won’t have that anywhere where your family can interrupt.’
Deliberately he glanced towards the gate. Her brothers, father, and some wedding guests were arguing vociferously.
He noticed the groom wasn’t with them.
Gio swung back to Stella, seeing a pallor that belied the angry set of her mouth. In the sunshine she looked tired, fragile beneath her feistiness.
He felt a stab of doubt. But it was too late now to pull back.
He pitched his voice low. ‘You have a choice, Stella. Come with me and sort this out properly or stay and explain to your family.’
The shouts reached fever pitch. Violent threats filled the air.
Finally, without a word, without acknowledging him, Stella marched to the chopper, her long train sweeping the dusty ground.
Gio reached out to help her up but she flinched away. ‘You didn’t listen,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t touch me again.’
In the end it was his chauffeur who helped her climb aboard and tuck the voluminous skirts around her, leaving Gio with an echo of what he’d felt the day she’d run out on him. Spurned. Bereft. And furious.
In the end Stella was glad they travelled by helicopter. Conversation was impossible unless they used the headphones, but whatever chitchat Gio had in mind was too private to share with the pilot. So she settled in her seat and watched the view.
At first she thought they’d drop down somewhere close. In another Sicilian city or, knowing Gio’s wealth, some luxurious private retreat. He probably had houses dotted around the world. She’d discovered the Amalfi villa was his, not a friend’s.
Another lie to add to the rest.
Her tension rose when the helicopter skimmed past the island and over open sea. Where was he taking her? She’d made up her mind it was back to the villa, but, instead of heading east, the chopper stayed over the sea.
Her stress levels rose but as the flight went on and they crossed over the mainland, she became mesmerised by the changing view of cities and villages, farms and mountains laid out below them.
It wasn’t really the view that lulled. She’d been running on empty for too long and today had been full of stress, the overload of cortisol in her body had drained her.
She felt empty and exhausted, with an edge of lingering nausea.
It was almost relaxing not to have to think about anything and just sit. For now there was nothing she could do.
Her thoughts kept backtracking to Gio’s reaction to the idea of a baby. He’d denied it was possible, yet he’d cold-bloodedly proclaimed to the world that she was pregnant, solely to create mayhem and embarrass her.
His actions repulsed her. The easy way he shrugged off the idea of a child yet used it for his own ends.
At the same time her response to him wasn’t completely negative. That horrified her.
Oh, she’d been furious in the cathedral, but hadn’t part of her revelled in the idea of him whisking her off to be with him?
She’d thought herself too sensible to yearn for a man who’d lied to her, using her in one-upmanship against her father. But the trickle of delight she’d felt beneath her outrage told its own story.
For, even knowing he’d duped her, Stella had discovered something about herself—that she felt deeply. That some emotions couldn’t easily be wiped away, despite the pain of betrayal.
Somehow, in the short time they’d been together, she’d fallen for Gio Valenti. It shouldn’t be so. Maybe it was a product of all those years yearning for love that her father and half-siblings refused to bestow. Whatever the reason, she’d felt far more for Gio than should have been possible.
Her mouth turned down and she pressed a hand to her lips, ashamed of the way they quivered. She hadn’t shed a tear over Giancarlo Valenti or the way he’d hurt her. She refused to start now.
Besides, now she had a weapon to fight him. Her weakness was also her strength. Back in his Amalfi villa she’d fancied herself falling for him. Now that would be her defence, for the other side of love was hatred, and she hated this man with every atom of her being.
Stella clung to that lifeline. Whatever happened, she’d get through it. He couldn’t hurt her more than he already had.
She couldn’t have dozed off. Not with the roar of the helicopter and the churning of her thoughts. But she did close her eyes and maybe the vibration lulled her a little.
When she opened her eyes blue mountains rose ahead and below was the silvery shimmer of water. Not the sea but a large lake. Here and there, buildings clustered around the edge. She saw the creamy wake of a boat cutting across the water.
‘Where are we?’ Her voice was croaky from disuse.
‘Lake Como. I have a villa here.’
Of course he did. It was a magnet for the rich and famous, their private estates clustering around the scenic shores.
It took everything she had to suppress a shudder of anxiety at how far she was from home. How totally she was at his mercy. ‘Am I supposed to be impressed? We could have had our conversation in Sicily.’
He shook his head. ‘And have your family barge in? I think not. No one will interrupt us here.’
Was that satisfaction gleaming in his eyes?
Stella swallowed. All through this flight she’d told herself not to panic. Once they’d talked he’d have her delivered…wherever she wanted to go. If only she knew where that was. She wasn’t ready to face her outraged family, but she’d work something out. She wasn’t a prisoner. She’d chosen to come.
Yet she found her mouth dry, her throat tight, knowing she’d made a stupid decision, fleeing with him. Without so much as a phone or money.
Of course it was stupid! You should have stayed and married Eduardo.
Stella didn’t want to think about her impulse to get into Gio’s car, then his helicopter. She knew she wouldn’t like the reason.
But it was too late for regrets. The chopper descended towards a helipad near a large and rather beautiful villa. It sat resplendent on the lake’s edge with its own jetty, surrounded by vast, ornamental gardens.
Time to face the music.
She’d do anything to protect her baby. If necessary she’d lie and say it was Eduardo’s.
She wouldn’t, couldn’t, let Gio, who had the same ruthless, conniving tendencies as her father, find out she was carrying his child.