Chapter Nine #3
But now she’d had a taste of true sensual passion, she wanted more.
Her father had always berated her appetite.
She was voracious, wanting more than was proper or allowed.
She didn’t want anyone putting limits on what she could or couldn’t have.
Maybe she would take what she wanted. Claim it for herself.
She shouldn’t have listened to her father—shouldn’t have equated lust with shame or her value with her virginity.
That appetite—any appetite—was a bad thing.
She should have let herself indulge in all pleasures including sex.
Because it was so very good. And maybe if she’d had more, she wouldn’t be making more of this now with Sante than what there actually was.
‘Now you never stay long in the one place,’ Sante murmured.
It was better not to stick around anywhere for too long. But there were other reasons for her choices. ‘Travel enriches my life. I like meeting new passengers and crew. I like the variety.’
‘You could still travel and have a home for yourself, so you’re not living out of a few bags.’
‘I like a nomadic existence.’
‘No. You’re saving for a reason.’ He leaned up on his elbow and looked into her eyes. ‘You should be living on some vast country estate with a bunch of dogs around you.’
Mia froze, horrified.
‘I remember,’ he whispered. ‘You brought that stray puppy home that summer the day your dad came home unexpectedly.’
She’d really hoped Sante hadn’t remembered that—hoped he’d been too busy with Dario to have paid much attention to an episode that had been utter heartbreak for her. But this was Sante and he had a brain bigger than Jupiter. ‘I don’t want to talk about that.’
She walked to the door but in seconds felt Sante gently take her arms from behind and pull her back against his warm body. ‘You loved it.’
She’d wanted to.
Mia bent her head. She’d been such a fool.
She’d wanted a friend. She’d wanted something to love.
Something to love her back, too. That puppy had been so precious and she’d thought it could be hers.
It had come from the farm down the road.
She’d convinced the farmer’s wife that her father would let her have one.
The woman had always been kind to her. But Mia had lied—she’d been naive and impulsive and she’d thought she could keep it hidden somehow.
But her father had arrived home unexpectedly that very night.
‘That half-breed mutt isn’t staying in my house,’ Sante quoted her father, sympathy roughening his voice. ‘For a moment I’d thought he’d meant me.’
Mia closed her eyes, horrified.
‘He was so mean to you,’ he muttered, turning her in his arms and carefully pulling her closer still. ‘I heard you crying half the night.’
‘You know me, never quiet.’ She swallowed, tried to smile. Failed. ‘Dario came and checked on me.’
‘We should have done better for you that day.’ Sante pressed her against his chest. ‘I’m so sorry, Mia.’
‘There was nothing either of you could have done. Nothing would have changed his mind. He only ever wanted his posh tweeds and pure breeds. Hunting dogs in the kennels not the house and he never wanted…’
Her, either. And definitely not some cute mutt that she’d loved instantly and unconditionally. But her father had taken that puppy and she’d never seen it again. It had just disappeared.
‘Mia.’ Sante stroked her back so tenderly. ‘You should have everything you want now. You should have a big home filled with dogs.’
No. Losing her puppy had hurt too much. She wasn’t doing that again.
‘You shouldn’t be taking jobs with accommodation included so you can save more. You should have inherited far more than enough to buy yourself a home in a place you love,’ he said harshly. ‘What happened? Why didn’t you get your birthright?’
She straightened and looked into his face, reading his frustration. ‘It’s not that straightforward, Sante.’
Her father spared a little more time for Dario but that was because he was the son and heir. Her father hadn’t just disinherited Mia. He’d made those threats to her brother, too.
‘Isn’t it? Dario inherited the world and made his own fortune, yet he’s left you with nothing. How is that possible?’ Outrage burned in Sante’s eyes.
In this past week they’d not mentioned her brother by tacit agreement. Apparently, now there was no avoiding it.
‘I didn’t want anything from my father and I didn’t want Dario’s help.’
‘Not good enough. He should have insisted. If I had a sister there’s no way I’d let her have nothing while I got everything.’
‘If you had a sister you would know how difficult it would actually be, because she’d be even more boneheaded than you,’ Mia fired back. ‘The fact is Dario had strings as well.’
Her brother didn’t trust her entirely, either. And as she was fooling around with the man he hated, maybe he’d been right to doubt her.
The ire in Sante’s expression simply grew.
‘He cares about me.’ She tempered her tone and shrugged. She didn’t have many memories of her life before her mother’s death but she remembered a couple of times when Dario had kept her distracted. ‘He protected me when we were young.’
‘Not just your father. You mean in Italy.’
She nodded. She hadn’t understood the extent to which Dario had protected her and that it was hard for him to let that habit go. ‘We were young when she died. In England we were separated for school and most holidays so we didn’t spend much time together. And then…’
‘The accident.’
‘His recovery took a long time,’ she said softly. ‘He became distant.’
Mia had been kept away from Dario—she was ‘too loud’; she would impede his convalescence. So she’d felt she was little more than an annoyance to her brother as well.
‘So with all that happened, we’re not as close as you might think.’ Not as close as she would like. ‘He’s used to making all the decisions and when my decisions aren’t the ones he’d make, then he struggles. I would have burned anything he gave me and he knows that.’
Sante frowned. ‘Mia…’
‘No one will control me,’ she said. ‘And I don’t need rescuing. I can manage perfectly well on my own.’
‘You shouldn’t have to—’
‘I don’t need billions. I don’t need to acquire an infinite number of properties to feel secure. I just need to feel free to be myself.’
His lips twitched. ‘For the record, accumulating an infinite number of properties is a hugely satisfying endeavour.’
‘Money and power aren’t what really matter. People are.’ Mia gazed into Sante’s suddenly stiff face.
Looking at his physical perfection, no one would believe he’d ever been in an accident where the car was completely smashed.
There wasn’t a visible mark on him but there were scars on the inside, and her brother would always be a shadow between them.
But she braced. ‘I know you didn’t want to leave him in the car.
I know you tried everything you could to help him… ’
He froze. Then moved. Stepping back and releasing her. ‘You wanted to get home.’
She stepped forward. ‘I know, Sante.’
‘A week ago you thought I was a monster.’
‘I saw your feet,’ she said, bullishly not moving a muscle so he couldn’t get past her. ‘I didn’t connect the dots until recently. Your shoes were worn. Your socks were bloody. You’d run for hours.’
‘Run away, according to your father.’
‘You never would have done that. I think you ran to try to get help.’
He stood, completely silent. Mia watched the shadows deepen in his eyes. Had she taken this too far? She was good at that but she wasn’t going to apologise for it this time. Sante had such a closed life.
His lips twisted. ‘I went in the wrong direction. I was disoriented. I didn’t know where I was—’
Sante broke off. He’d not intended to discuss this with her again.
Before her he’d not discussed it with anyone since the relentless interrogation in the police car when he’d been picked up.
He’d run through the night. In the dark, cold, terrified.
Devastated at leaving Dario. He’d hated that he’d had to leave him.
He’d never wanted to leave someone he considered a brother. Not again.
‘You were in shock. You’d probably had a knock to the head. Did anyone even check you out?’
‘I was fine,’ he muttered dismissively.
‘No, you weren’t.’ She moved forward, planting herself right in front of him, her eyes wide and beseeching and beautiful. ‘You ran for hours trying to get help for your injured friend.’
He couldn’t hold that gaze. Couldn’t stop the whisper from escaping. ‘I thought he was going to die. I couldn’t get him free. I didn’t want to leave him.’
‘You’ve never told him any of that?’
‘I couldn’t get to see him.’
‘Dario didn’t regain consciousness until two days later,’ Mia explained quietly. ‘He was in a bad way for a long time. Alone a long time struggling with it. My father told him you’d taken his pay-off. That you’d bargained the amount upwards to go quickly and quietly.’
‘You’re able to believe that your father would lie about it. But Dario still believes I would do something that awful. He never tried to find out my side of the story. He just accepted it as fact.’
Dario was like his father—entitled and ruthless. Able to just cut someone out of his life, no matter how they’d been treated. No matter that Sante had trusted Dario more than anyone in his life at that time. Dario had done it to Mia, too, hadn’t he? By not supporting her.
‘You’ve never talked to him about it, either. You’re equally stubborn,’ Mia pointed out. ‘Maybe you should tell him the truth.’
‘It wouldn’t matter what I said.’ Sante shook his head. ‘It’s easier to believe the worst of someone than the best,’ he said. ‘Everyone always does that.’
Mia looked at him sadly and he braced. He didn’t want to hear whatever she thought she could say to make this better.
There was no making it better and he didn’t want to revisit this ever again.
He didn’t want to see compassion in her eyes.
He didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t abandoned Dario, but he wasn’t worthy of her belief in him being a decent person. Because he’d failed before.
He stood, frozen. Driving her home felt impossible.
He could summon a driver, but that was an admin step too far.
And now he needed to silence not just her, but the memories swirling in his head.
There was only way to blank out the world.
The best way. He pulled her close and to his immense pleasure, she melted.