Chapter Ten #3
I sighed. ‘I was wrong not to tell you about the baby,’ I conceded.
I’d already tried to explain to him why I hadn’t told him, but I knew my fear for the baby’s safety wasn’t the only reason.
‘My own father never wanted me. I never even met him,’ I managed, hating that admitting it made me feel even more vulnerable.
But I wanted him to understand where I was coming from.
‘The truth is, I didn’t really consider you had rights too where the baby was concerned, and I should have.
I guess I just assumed you wouldn’t care, that when you said you wanted me gone, that meant you didn’t want to see me again, and I apologise for that. ’
His brows rose again, but the muscle in his jaw stopped twitching.
‘I do care. I care very much that my child is safe,’ he said forcefully, and I could see he meant it.
‘I am sorry your father chose not to protect you, Mia. My father was not able to protect me also, when I was a boy, because my mother ran from him…’ The gruff words hit me hard.
Was that why he had been so angry with me?
But before the bubble of hope could expand, he continued, his tone as harsh as the resentment in his eyes.
‘You must not fight me when I know what is best for you.’
‘But can’t you see, that makes me a prisoner. I don’t want to give up my freedom, my choices. I won’t,’ I blurted out, too distressed and heartsore now to be cautious.
The muscle in his jaw tensed again, and his brows lowered.
‘Freedom is overrated,’ he ground out. His gaze roamed over me, fierce arousal turning the deep blue of his irises to black—and making me brutally aware I was all but naked under the thin robe. ‘And it is not what you need.’
I stared back at him, willing the spurt of temper at his arrogant statement to cover the hurt at his refusal to bend. I’d told him about my daddy issues. I’d even apologised for not telling him about the baby, and yet it wasn’t enough.
It was obvious we were talking at cross-purposes, that he just didn’t get it. But I was suddenly too weary, and frankly too emotional, to press the point. Especially as I could see the heat in his eyes and knew exactly what that meant.
He placed his hand on my thigh under the gown and ran his thumb along the leg of my panties, confirming my suspicions.
‘Do you wish me to remind you again what you need—as I did on the plane?’ he murmured, the comment as potent as it was provocative.
‘No… I don’t,’ I said, even as sensation pulsed and throbbed in my sex.
Sex and dominance were his go-to ways of controlling me. But what was seriously hot in the bedroom was a lot less hot out of it. And separating the two was the only way I was going to be able to figure out a way through this.
Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but to my surprise, he took his hand off my leg and smoothed down the gown. ‘Later,’ he said.
I tried to see it as a sign that our relationship had evolved, at least enough to stop him using our chemistry to shore up his position of power, as he helped me to climb off the examination table.
But then he hooked my hair behind my ear and cradled my chin.
The gesture was so disarming, my heart stuttered.
‘Do not be sad, Mia.’ His hand trailed down—proprietary, possessive, but also strangely tender, almost reverent when he cradled the bump. ‘As the mother of my son, you will always be taken care of.’
I wasn’t sure if he realised the qualifier made it clear it was the baby who was important to him, not me. But I couldn’t deny the forceful feeling of connection. And the memory of his gaze when he had stared at the images of our child.
Perhaps I should start there. For a hard man, he was genuinely moved at the thought of being a father. And we did have a connection outside sex. Neither of us had had a father’s protection. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
Maybe this wasn’t just the desire to mark me as his.
Maybe it could be more than that. He had feelings.
He had emotions, even if he controlled them so rigidly.
Maybe it wasn’t completely unreasonable to assume the connection he felt towards this child could be a way behind that shield of dominance and demand he kept around the rest of his emotions.
I nodded, stupidly close to tears again as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, then gave me a light swat on the backside that made me jump. ‘Now get dressed. We must leave for Isla Donna.’
To my surprise, he strode out of the room, allowing me to dress in private.
As I walked back to the screen, though, I noticed a phone on the doctor’s desk.
I could use it—to ring the police, to ring Evie and explain where I was…
But as soon as the thought occurred to me, I knew I couldn’t do it.
Ringing Evie in the middle of the night, when I couldn’t explain coherently what was happening would only make her freak out more.
And ringing the police felt wrong.
Maybe it was the memory of Vito’s patient touch.
Maybe it was the roller coaster of exhausting emotions I’d been on since spotting him in my flat what felt like several lifetimes ago.
Maybe it was that I knew however scared I was of Vito’s world, he was the only person who could keep me and the baby safe now…
or maybe it was the small confidences we’d shared, however reluctantly, that gave me hope.
But as I got dressed and walked out of the examination room without making the call which could set me free from him, I knew I had turned a corner.
I wasn’t going to try and escape again. I had to try and make this work for me and my baby.
I would have to guard my heart, but I’d learned how to do that a long time ago.
And I’d never been a hopeless romantic like Evie.
Practicality and pragmatism had always been my superpowers.
But at the same time, I could not submit to Vito’s determination to dominate everyone and everything, especially me.
Or he would never respect me, and more importantly, I would never respect myself.
Even if I now suspected his determination to dominate me went a lot deeper than just a desire to keep our baby safe.
Somehow, I had to get behind his cast-iron control and discover more of the man I had glimpsed that night and this evening. A man who wasn’t a brick wall, incapable of compromise or empathy.
As I entered the outer office, the rush of emotion felt real and valid when he swung round from his hushed conversation with the obstetrician, as if sensing my presence.
He reached out his hand, but then he ruined it by snapping his fingers. ‘Vieni, Mia, we must leave.’
I tensed but resisted the urge to snap back. I’d exhausted all my sass for one night.
So I took his hand without an argument. Surprise crossed his features, and I gave myself a mental high-five. In our battle of wills, surprise was probably my best weapon. Because it might make him start to see me as an autonomous person instead of a woman he now owned.
He escorted me down the stairs and into the waiting limousine—his wide palm resting securely on my back.
I snuggled into my side of the car and yawned. Pulling out his phone, he started to talk to someone in rapid Italian, obviously giving orders again.
I had been dismissed, I realised when we got to his heavily guarded estate—and he hadn’t spoken to me once. But I was oddly grateful for the reprieve.
The car drove towards the villa—which looked untouched now after the incident five months ago—and stopped at the heliport on the lawn where we had landed.
The huge black chopper was waiting for us, its giant blades already turning.
Lorenzo escorted me on board while Vito spoke to a couple of the men with assault rifles standing guard before boarding too.
The echoes of our first night together only made the whole thing seem more surreal as the enormous black bird lifted into the night sky, then hovered over the city and headed out over the bay.
My stomach bounced into my throat as we powered across the dark water towards Capri and beyond, and I glanced at the man beside me, his harsh, handsome features set in stark lines by the blinking red light on the helicopter.
Vito Rocco was a force of nature. Taking him on was liable to require all my strength and resilience and a lot of stamina—which meant conserving my energy and choosing my battles more carefully.
Eventually the shape of an island appeared on the horizon, a cluster of lights sprinkled over one end.
‘This is Isla Donna,’ he said over the headphones, the pride in his voice unmistakable.
As the helicopter travelled along the coastline, a series of secluded coves and rocky headlands were visible in the moonlight, until the big bird touched down next to a palatial villa.
Starkly modern in comparison to the neoclassical elegance of Vito’s home in Naples, the stunning white stone-and-glass structure was larger and even more opulent, perched on the edge of a promontory with steps leading down the cliff face.
An array of marble terraces looked out onto a sea view which would be spectacular in the daylight.
On the lowest terrace was a large floodlit infinity pool, its water a glowing turquoise in the darkness.
He pressed his palm to the small of my back again to lead me down the helicopter steps, and we were greeted by a group of household staff. But when he propelled me through a high stone archway into a marble foyer, I pulled away from that proprietary touch.
‘I’d like to sleep alone tonight,’ I said.
He frowned, obviously having intended to lead me straight to his bed. I bristled at his arrogance.
That he had assumed he had me exactly where he wanted me—and I was going to do everything he demanded from now on—didn’t surprise me. But that he hadn’t intended to ask what I wanted only made me more aware of the mountain I still had to climb.
‘There is no way off this island, Mia, if you think to run from me again,’ he said, but his tense expression gave me a glimmer of hope.
That he didn’t trust me was obvious, but all I wanted right now was some space—and a chance to get a good night’s sleep.
If he could respect that much, it was a start.
Baby steps, Mia.
‘I’m not planning on going anywhere tonight,’ I offered. ‘I’m shattered,’ I added just as my mouth broke into a huge yawn.
He didn’t look happy, but a wave of relief gushed through me when he beckoned a girl from the row of staff waiting to serve him in the foyer—and spoke to her in Italian.
The maid bowed and blushed, calling him padrino several times—and making me brutally aware that every single person on this island was at his beck and call… No wonder he expected me to be at his beck and call, too. That he hadn’t refused my request, though, felt huge.
‘Gabriella will show you to one of the guest suites…for tonight,’ he announced.
‘Thank you,’ I murmured, grateful for the respite, at least until the morning.
When she went to lead me away, though, he grasped my wrist and tugged me back to face him. ‘A domani, Mia,’ he said, sweeping his thumb over my rampaging pulse.
Until tomorrow.
I didn’t speak much Italian, but I understood that much.
I could see the challenge in his eyes, hear the warning in his voice, and feel the inevitable surge of awareness, despite my tiredness… His eyes darkened when I nodded and tugged my hand free, and I knew he’d felt it too.
I followed Gabriella to a stunning, lavishly furnished suite with its own terrace.
The hazy light of dawn glowed red on the horizon.
But as I collapsed onto the bed and sank into oblivion, I was well aware that even if I had won this small battle, I had in no way won the war.
Because my sex was already aching with emptiness again—and my emotions were still in uproar.