Her Shameful Secret

Antonio had done a double-take and halted.

“Is everything all right, sir?” his assistant had asked.

No. His world had taken a sudden tilt as he’d stared at the blonde, dressed simply in a fitted leather jacket, skintight jeans and knee-high boots. The violent kick of attraction had made him take a staggering step back.

He knew many beautiful young women, but there had been something different about this one. He had wanted to accept her silent challenge. It could have been her don’t-mess-with-me stance or the jaunty tilt of her black fedora. Maybe it had been the bright red scarf draped around her neck that hinted at attitude. Whatever it was, he had found it irresistible.

“Sir?” his assistant had prompted.

Antonio had barely heard him. His attention had been on the blonde as she’d turned a map upside down, clearly hopeless at navigating. Then suddenly she’d shrugged her shoulders and stuffed the map carelessly into her backpack. Antonio had watched as the blonde had started walking away as if she was ready for whatever adventure she faced.

Her beauty and vitality had intrigued him, and her bold spirit had captured his imagination. He’d known he had to meet this woman or regret missing the opportunity.

“Cancel my meeting,” he had said to his stunned assistant.

Following an elemental instinct he had not wanted to question, Antonio had ignored the chauffeured car waiting for him and followed the blonde.

His pulse had quickened as he’d watched the swing of her long blonde hair and the sway of her hips. She’d looked over her shoulder, and as their gazes connected he had seen the flare of attraction in her blue eyes. Instead of looking away she had turned and approached him.

“Mi scusi,” she had said, her voice strong and clear as she’d met his gaze boldly. “Do you speak English?”

“Of course,” he had said, noticing she was American. There had been no light of recognition in her eyes—just lust. She’d had no idea who he was.

“Great. I’m looking for the Piazza del Popolo,” she had said, her attention clearly drawn to his mouth. She had absently swiped the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip.

Antonio had clenched his jaw. He had wanted to know how her lips tasted, but it had been too soon, too fast. The last thing he’d wanted to do was scare her off. “It’s not far,” he had replied gruffly as attraction pulsed between them. “I can show you where it is.”

He had been fascinated as he’d watched her cheeks turn pink. She hadn’t tried to hide her interest, but she’d been fighting an internal struggle. He had seen the rise and fall of her chest and the eagerness in her expression. She had been tempted to explore whatever was happening between them.

“Wouldn’t it be out of your way?”

“Not at all,” he had lied. His voice had softened as his chest had tightened with growing excitement. “I happen to be going in that direction.”

“What luck!” Her broad smile had indicated that she didn’t believe him. She could have said she was going to Venice and he would have given the same answer. “By the way, I’m Isabella.”

He had taken Bella to bed that night. There had been no games, no pretense. There had also been no indication that this American student on Spring Break would twist him in so many knots that he would never be the same again. She hadn’t been very experienced, but a generous and affectionate lover.

Giovanni had thought so, too.

The reminder burned like acid, eating away at him.

Antonio stood up and shoved his clenched fists in his pockets. “You told me you weren’t sick.”

“I’m not sick,” she countered faintly.

The Isabella he knew was full of life and ready to take on the world. This Isabella looked like a strong gust of wind would knock her over. “You need to see a doctor.”

Isabella suddenly opened her eyes wide. She blinked a few times and darted a quick look at him before keeping her gaze on the floor. She rose, resting awkwardly on her elbow and pushing the wayward hair out of her face. “I’ve seen a doctor. I’m not sick. Just exhausted. All I need is to eat and sleep properly.”

Antonio cast her a look of disbelief. “I would ask for a second opinion.”

“I don’t need one. Now, go away,” she ordered with the flutter of her hand.

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

“You have to,” she urged as she held her head in her hands. “Tell everyone that you couldn’t find me. Tell them that I’m back home.”

It was tempting. He wanted to leave and not look back. Purge her from his memories. Do anything that would erase Isabella from his world. But he knew that was impossible.

“Sorry. I’m not like you. I choose to tell the truth whenever possible.”

She lifted her head to glare at him. “I never lied to you. I never—”

He turned away and checked his watch. “I don’t have time to rehash the past.”

“Rehash?” Isabella’s voice rose angrily. “When did we discuss it the first time around? I thought we were happy. We had been together for weeks and going strong. We had made love throughout the night. The next morning your security woke me up to kick me out. My bag was packed and you wouldn’t take my call. You didn’t tell me why you did that, and you never gave me a chance to talk about it!”

Antonio leaned against the wall by the door. The room felt like it was getting smaller. “I wasn’t in the mood to hear your excuses. I’m even less inclined to now.”

“There was nothing to excuse,” Isabella argued as she rose slowly.

Her movements were wobbly and awkward. Antonio folded his arms so he wouldn’t reach out and help her. He already regretted holding her close. He didn’t like how much effort it had taken to pull away. His fingertips still stung from where he had touched her face.

Isabella looked him in the eye and jutted out her chin. “I did not have an affair.”

He held up his hand. “Enough! I will not discuss it.”

“Typical,” she said with a sigh. “You don’t like to discuss anything. Especially if it’s personal. No matter how hard I tried, you wouldn’t share how you felt. The only time I knew exactly what you were thinking was when we were in bed.”

An intimate and very inconvenient image bloomed in his mind. Of Isabella, naked in his bed, eagerly following his explicit demands. When they’d been alone together he had held nothing back. He had demonstrated how much he wanted Isabella and how much her touch had meant to him. There had been many times when it hadn’t been certain who was in command.

A muscle bunched in his jaw and ferocious energy swirled around him. “We are leaving,” he announced in a gravelly tone. Antonio thrust the door open and waited for Isabella.

“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not signing any papers. I don’t want Giovanni’s money.”

“I’m sure you earned it.” He didn’t want her to know what was at stake here. All he wanted was to end this errand as soon as possible. By whatever means necessary. Antonio walked over to her.

Isabella’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“How times have changed,” he said silkily as he wrapped his hand around her wrist. He ignored her racing pulse under his fingers as he picked up her backpack. “I remember when you begged for my touch.”

Isabella tried futilely to pull out of his grasp. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about the past? Let go of me.”

“I will when we get to my car.” If it was still where he had parked it. Trust Bella to find the most dangerous neighborhood to live in.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Isabella declared as she tried to grab onto the doorframe—but she couldn’t hold on.

“Think again.” He headed for the stairs, dragging her behind him.

“Pushy and selfish,” she muttered. “It must be a Rossi trait. You are just like your brother.”

Antonio stilled as the accusation lashed at him. He slowly turned and faced Isabella. He saw the wariness in her eyes as she backed away. She didn’t get far as his grip tightened around her wrist. “Don’t.”

Isabella’s gaze fell to her feet. “All I meant—”

“I don’t care what you meant.” Her words had clawed open a wound he had valiantly tried to ignore. Were he and Gio interchangeable in Isabella’s mind? How often had she thought of his brother when she’d kissed him? Had she responded the same way in Gio’s bed?

His thoughts turned darker, piercing his soul. Antonio didn’t say anything as he took a step closer to Isabella, backing her against the wall. Why had she chosen Gio over him? Everyone else he knew made that choice, but why Isabella? He had thought she was different. Was it because Gio had been the handsome and charismatic one? Had his brother fulfilled her deepest, darkest fantasies? Or had she actually fallen in love with his brother?

“Antonio?” she whispered with uncertainty.

He stared at Isabella. Her angelic beauty hid a devious nature. Her bold spirit and breathtaking innocence had led him straight to a hell that he might never escape. He blinked slowly as he battled the darkness enveloping him. He wouldn’t let this woman destroy him again.

Antonio released her wrist as if her touch burned. He took a deliberate step back but met her eyes with a steady gaze. “Don’t compare me with my brother. Ever.”

Isabella couldn’t move as she stared into his brown eyes. Her heart twisted and her breath snagged in her throat. Antonio was always so careful not to show his thoughts and emotions, but now they were laid bare before her. The man was in torment.

But just as quickly as he’d exposed his pain his eyes were shuttered. When he opened them again he was back in control, while her emotions were in a jumbled mess.

Antonio turned away from her and Isabella sagged against the wall. She slowly exhaled as her heart pounded in her ears. She felt shaky, her limbs twitching as she watched Antonio take the stairs.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words were just a whisper but she saw Antonio’s rigid stance as he silently deflected her apology.

She hadn’t meant to compare Antonio to his brother. They had very different personalities. It was impossible to confuse the two. Giovanni had been a charmer, with movie star looks, always the life of the party. He’d been entertaining—but not fascinating like Antonio.

The moment she had met Antonio she’d known he was out of her league. She didn’t have the sophistication or sexual knowledge to hold on to him. It hadn’t mattered. She’d only wanted to be with him. Just once.

Isabella remembered when they had first met and he had offered to show her Piazza del Popolo. The sight of him had jolted her as if she had woken from a deep slumber. Her heart had started to race when she saw him.

She knew she had projected an image of being bold and strong. Tough. It had all been an act. It had been her way of protecting herself as she went through the world alone. But the way the man had been looking at her—she had felt brazen. She had wanted to hold on to that feeling.

“I’m Antonio,” he had said, and offered his hand.

She had hesitated at the sight of his expensive cufflinks. It had only been then that she’d noticed he wore a designer suit. His silk tie had probably cost more than her round-trip ticket to Italy. She didn’t know anyone who had that kind of money.

Be careful of the rich ones. Her mother words had drifted in her head. They only want one thing from women like us.

Isabella had smiled. She had decided that it was okay because she was after the same thing.

She had reached for Antonio’s hand and felt a sharp tingle as her skin had glided against his. She hadn’t been able to hide her gasp of surprise. When she had tried to pull away Antonio had wrapped his long, strong fingers around her hand.

Instead of making her feel trapped, his touch had pierced through the gray numbness that had settled in her when she had nursed her mother through her final illness. Her breath had locked in her throat as he’d raised her hand to his mouth.

The earthy colors of Rome had deepened and the sun had turned golden. The blaring sound of traffic had faded as Antonio had brushed his lips against her knuckles. She had known that this man would be the highlight of her vacation. She hadn’t expected to fall in love—and into his bed—with such wild abandon.

She hadn’t expected that she would never be the same again.

Isabella jerked her mind to the present as she saw Antonio disappear from the stairwell with her backpack. Everything she owned—her passport, her money—was in there.

“Wait!” she called out, and hurriedly followed him. She rounded the building and saw Antonio striding down the block. Isabella ran after him. “Antonio, stop!”

He walked to his sports car—a menacing-looking machine that was as black as night. He punched a button on his keyring and the small trunk popped open. Isabella watched in horror as he tossed her backpack in and slammed it shut.

“Give me back my bag,” she said as she reached the car.

“You’ll get it after we visit the lawyers.”

“You don’t understand, Antonio. I have to work.” She gestured at the café on the other end of the block.

“Who cares?” He walked to the driver’s side. “This is more important.”

Spoken like a man who had never had to scrape by or go hungry. “I’m already going to get in trouble for taking an unscheduled break.”

“Unscheduled break? You made a run for it and you weren’t planning to return.”

“I can’t afford to lose this job.” She rubbed her hand over her forehead as she tried to maintain her composure. “If I get fired I lose my room.”

He glanced up at the broken rusted window of her room. “It won’t be that big of a loss.”

Isabella put her hands on her hips. “Maybe not to you, but this job is the only thing that is keeping me from becoming homeless!”

Antonio’s eyes narrowed. “Is this about money?”

“What?” She stared at him across the car.

“Of course it is.”

“It’s about my livelihood,” she corrected him through clenched teeth. Antonio wouldn’t understand about that, having been born into wealth and status. She needed her job because she had no other form of support or resources. Why couldn’t he see that? “Listen, let’s make a compromise. I will go to the lawyers with you once I finish my shift at the café.”

Antonio took another look at his watch. “That’s unacceptable.”

“Seriously? How is that unacceptable? You asked for a favor from me and I just agreed to do it.”

“We both know you are prolonging the inevitable and will try to avoid it. Although I find it very curious that you aren’t asking how much money you will get. Unless, of course, you already know.”

“There’s nothing curious about it,” she said as she folded her arms protectively around her. “The only thing I know is that any money will come with strings attached. I don’t want anything—especially if it means dealing with you or your family.”

Antonio chose to ignore her comment. “I’m not willing to wait around and watch over you until your shift ends.”

“Do you even know how to compromise?” she asked, tossing her hands up in frustration. Of course he didn’t. The world bowed down to him. Just as she had done, once upon a time.

“This is what I know,” he said as he slipped on his sunglasses. “The will was read three days ago. The contents will soon become public.”

Isabella frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He opened the door and sat down in the driver’s seat. “It won’t take long before the paparazzi find you.”

She jerked her head back in surprise. “Paparazzi? What would they want with me?”

“You’re kidding, right? The woman who slept with the Rossi brothers has wound up with a fortune.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. “There is no need to make it sound so salacious.”

“I’m just telling it like it is,” he said impatiently. “Now, get in.”

Isabella hesitated. Giovanni had left her a fortune? That couldn’t be right. Antonio must be exaggerating. If only she could accept the money. But even if she did it would take ages to go through the legal and financial systems and get the cash she so desperately needed.

What would happen to her after she’d signed the documents? She had no home, no money and no protection. She had been working for months to raise the money to get back to California and she didn’t think she would make enough before the paparazzi found her. Could she ask Antonio for help?

She bit her lip as she weighed the pros and cons. Could she ask him? Was she willing to stoop that low? Antonio could easily afford the price of a plane ticket, probably had the cash in his wallet, but it felt wrong.

Antonio leaned back in his seat. “What do you want?”

She took a deep breath. “I need a plane ticket to Los Angeles. For tonight.”

He nodded sharply. “What else?”

She was already regretting her request. She didn’t want anything from Antonio. His presence reminded her of the poor choices she made because she’d been in love. She had fought for him, for them, and he had discarded her without a second thought. As much as it pained her to think about it, her mother had been right. She hated it when that happened.

“That’s it.”

He tipped his sunglasses and studied her face. “I don’t believe you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she replied. “But I mean it. I don’t want anything else.”

“That will change soon,” he said as he started the engine.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I shall consider this a loan,” she said as the car purred to life. “I’ll pay you back once I get settled.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is,” she insisted. “It wouldn’t be right to take your money.”

“I don’t care about the money.” Antonio said. “Get in the car.”

Isabella hesitated. Was that wise? The man hated her. He thought she’d betrayed him. Then again, he probably wanted her out of Italy and out of his life as soon as possible. She had nothing to worry about.

“Bella …” Antonio’s tone warned of his growing impatience.

Isabella opened the door and sat down before she changed her mind. “Don’t expect me to stay long,” she said as she reached for the seatbelt. “I’ll sign the papers and then I’m gone.”

And if she were lucky she would never see Antonio again.

CHAPTER THREE

“THIS is a law office?” Isabella asked as she studied the old building. “I haven’t seen one like this before.”

Antonio glanced up and saw that the façade was pale, almost pink-gold. He noticed the faded mosaics next to the arched windows and pillars. It was strange that he’d never really looked at the building before.

“Where did you think I would take you?”

“You don’t want me to answer that,” she muttered.

They entered the dark and musty building. It was unnaturally quiet and the only sound was their footsteps as they climbed the stairs. The silence Antonio shared with Isabella felt strange but he was grateful for it. He didn’t need to think about the easy conversations they’d once had that would last throughout the night. He didn’t want to remember how he’d used to call her up during the day just to hear her voice. He wanted the barrier of silence. Needed it.

The receptionist took one look at Isabella and sniffed with disapproval. Antonio glared at the dour woman, letting her know that he wouldn’t tolerate that kind of behavior. The woman bent her head from the silent reprimand and icily escorted them to the conference room.

When the door opened Antonio saw his mother, sitting regally next to the ornate rosewood table. Dressed severely in black, Maria Rossi was as elegant and private as always. She was trying to hide her distress, but he instantly saw it in her face.

“Mother, why are you here?” Antonio asked. “Your presence isn’t required.”

His mother’s expression darkened when she saw Isabella at her side. “Is this the woman?”

“This is Isabella Williams,” Antonio said with a hint of warning.

He reluctantly introduced Isabella to his mother. He had hoped to prevent these two women from meeting. With one wintry glance Maria made it clear what she thought of Isabella. She knew this blonde beauty was the reason her sons had been estranged.

Antonio’s first instinct was to protect Isabella from the slight. But that didn’t make sense. She was in the wrong and should suffer the consequences. She had created a scandal when she’d started living with Giovanni. The paparazzi had gone into a feeding frenzy, and had Antonio borne the brunt of the gossip. But he still couldn’t stand by and watch Isabella receive this treatment.

Most socialites he knew would have wilted under his mother’s apparent disgust. To his surprise, Isabella tilted her head proudly. She wasn’t going to back down or hang her head in shame. She stood before this doyenne of high society in her cheap clothes, with her tarnished name, and held her gaze unflinchingly.

His mother was the first to break eye contact. She turned to him. “I can’t bear to be in the same room with her.”

Isabella showed no expression as she watched Maria Rossi leave the room and closed the door with a flourish.

“I apologize for my mother’s behavior,” Antonio said, fighting back anger. “I’ll see that it doesn’t happen again.”

“No need,” Isabella crossed her arms and walked to the large window. “I know you feel the same way.”

Antonio watched her as she stared at the view of the Pantheon. He suspected she wasn’t really looking at anything. It was as if she was in another time, another place, trapped in a memory.

If only he could do the same. His mind was always racing, predicting problems and creating solutions. He required an outlet for his inexhaustible energy and found it in his work. The money and power that came along with it wasn’t important. Antonio needed the challenge, to push himself to the razor’s edge.

There had been one time when he hadn’t felt that drive, and that had been when he was with Isabella. When they’d been together nothing else had existed. Isabella Williams had been his escape. And eventually his downfall.

“What did you tell your mother about me?” Isabella grimaced as the question sprang from her lips. She hadn’t meant to ask, but it was obvious that her reputation had preceded her. Isabella knew she shouldn’t care but it bothered her.

There was something about Antonio’s mother that intimidated her. The woman was beautifully groomed, from her coiffed hair to her pedicured feet, but she also had an aura of power. No one would treat Maria Rossi with anything less than respect. Isabella had felt grubby next to her.

“We never discussed you,” he said stiffly.

She wouldn’t be surprised if that were true. Antonio rarely discussed his family. Everything she knew about his mother and his late father had come from Giovanni. And he’d probably been just as private about his love life with his family.

Isabella turned and approached Antonio. “But she knows you and I were once together?”

“Not from me.”

“Giovanni?” No wonder his mother hated her.

“My mother was prying into the reason why her sons weren’t on speaking terms again.” Antonio crossed his arms and looked away. “I’m sure Gio concocted some story that made him look like the innocent victim.”

“Again?” Her tired brain caught onto that word. “You and Giovanni had been estranged before?”

Antonio’s jaw clenched. “Yes.”

She felt the weight of guilt lift a little. All this time she’d thought she had ruined the strong bond between brothers. “But how could that be?” she asked as she remembered Giovanni and Antonio together. They’d had a tendency to use the same expressions, finish each other’s sentences. “You two were close.”

Antonio shrugged. “Gio had been trying to make amends and was on his best behavior. It was one of the few times we got along.”

“Why did you accept him back into your life?” That didn’t seem like something Antonio would do. You screwed up once and you were banished from Antonio’s life. You didn’t get another chance.