Hired: The Italian's Bride (15 page)

T
HE
house was dark when Mari entered. Times like this her heart always beat a little faster; no matter how much she told herself the past was over, she knew it really wasn’t. She’d always have that little bit of fear lurking behind dark and closed doors. It was simple preoccupation that had caused her to forget to leave a few lights burning. As soon as she stepped inside, she flicked on the kitchen light, the instant glow alleviating some of her anxiety.

Luca was leaving. All the turmoil of the past weeks would be gone, like they’d never happened. She was getting her life back. It was what she wanted.

Aimlessly she let her fingers drift over the mail she’d brought in earlier and had thrown on the table in her distraction of getting ready for dinner. Her fingers paused over an odd white-and-red envelope that meant Express service…and opened it to find another letter-size envelope bearing an insignia and the words Toronto Police Service.

She held the letter in trembling hands. After a few minutes of staring at it, she turned it over, ripped the flap and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

It was over.

Mariella sat heavily in the kitchen chair, the paper still open and shaking in her fingers. Tommy’s nails tapped on the
floor and he sat beside her, putting his head down on her knee. The warmth from it soaked into her leg, anchoring her to the present.

This was her life. Hers. And now,
hers alone
. The past was gone, melted away in a few short paragraphs.

She had to read it once more to make sure it was true.

Mari wiped away tears. He was gone. He had no power to hurt her anymore.

She kept reading, the rest scrawled in semi-neat handwriting at the bottom of the page.

She remembered Constable Moore. He’d been steady, firm, gentle when questioning her at the hospital and then later when he’d testified at the trial. Somehow, having him be the one to break the news brought things full circle, even through something as simple as a letter. She wondered briefly if her
mother was somewhere tonight, reading an identical letter, feeling the same relief…and regret.

Her first instinct was to tell Luca.

Mari looked up, swiping a finger under her lashes. Telling Luca was the last thing she should do, though. They’d all but said goodbye tonight. And he’d dealt with her problems enough. No, it was time to stand on her own two feet. The fact that she could…and be worry free…was a heady thought.

Standing, she walked over to where the painting he’d given her hung. She skimmed her fingers over the surface, the letter dangling from her opposite hand. She knew now what she hadn’t been able to put together the day she’d first seen it. She knew now not only that it had spoken to her, but what it said.

It was life; the life in her that he’d awakened. The life she’d fought for every step of the way. And it bled on the canvas and she realized that by living, by feeling, she’d also opened herself up to hurt. And the shocking, glorious realization that it had been worth it.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. She had sworn up and down that she’d moved on from the wounds Robert had inflicted on her, but that wasn’t true. She’d only covered them up. And then she’d met Luca and he’d made her face them, and he’d made her fall in love with him.

Only she’d been so crippled she hadn’t had the courage to fight for him. Even tonight she’d simply accepted what he’d said—that he was leaving.

She took the letter, crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the fire.

Over the past weeks she’d wondered if she’d only been attracted to Luca because of Robert and what he’d done to her. She’d asked herself if she’d felt such an attachment because he seemed to protect her from her fear. Wondered if she’d been receptive to him because she’d needed him to make her feel safe after Robert had been released.

But it wasn’t true, none of it.

As the paper curled and flamed, reducing to ash, she knew without a doubt that she was free. And that freedom did absolutely nothing to release her from the longing she had for Luca.

The painting brought it all back, fresh and new. Luca’s smile, his eyes, the way he challenged her and pushed her and kissed her. The way he’d gotten her to talk about her abuse and how she’d come to rely on him.

But the man who had made her life a living hell, who had beaten her mother and then her, who had put her in the hospital for weeks and who had caused years of therapy…was suddenly gone.

She no longer had to look around corners. She no longer had to deal with updates from parole officers, victim impact statements, or worry if he’d try to find her or if he’d come back to finish the job. She’d had no doubt that he was capable of it. And there was a little bit of guilt in the fact that a man had to die for her to feel free of her own personal prison.

She was rid of Robert Langston and she had the job, the life, she’d always wanted.

And somehow, she still felt completely empty.

She straightened her shoulders. As if preordained, the words of the note that had accompanied the painting rang in her ears: “When it speaks to your heart, you know it’s the right one.”

She’d been so very utterly wrong.

It hadn’t been about Robert. It was about Luca. He was the one that spoke to her heart. He was the right one. She could either accept what he’d said tonight or she could fight for him. And she had no idea if she was brave enough to go through with it.

There had been no chance to speak privately. With Luca planning on leaving so soon, the morning was completely filled with meetings and details. Mari looked across the table
at him. The sinking feeling that had begun last night widened to a gulf that threatened to swallow her up.

It wasn’t about drapes and fixtures and figures anymore.

She already felt the loss of him and didn’t know how she was going to manage it when he was gone. And she had no confidence at all in her ability to convince him to stay.

Something had changed. The sound of his voice as he hashed things over with the plumbing contractor both grounded her and filled her with emptiness. Never, in the seven years since she’d been attacked, had she let down her guard so completely. She’d been so used to reacting to things that she didn’t know how to take control and act. And while he thought that giving her control of the Cascade was what she wanted, nothing was further from the truth. A month ago she would have taken it gladly. But now…it meant nothing, not without Luca.

But it wasn’t what they agreed, and she had spent the better part of the morning desperately trying to find a time to speak to him in private to tell him that she’d changed.

Luca wound up the meeting and shook hands with the contractor. Mari smiled and offered her hand as well, knowing that from this moment on she would be the one carrying out Luca’s vision. She was pleased he trusted her enough to leave her with it. No one had ever shown her that much faith before. But at what cost? She wanted them to do it together. They had thus far and it had changed her life. The last thing she wanted was to go back to her old life. It was drab and colorless now.

The door to the conference room had just closed and Mari turned, wanting to say something and not knowing what. For a few long seconds their eyes clashed and she wished she knew how to put into words what she was feeling.

Mari straightened her blouse. Should she ask him to lunch? Suggest something else? Her stomach twisted.

“That covers it, then.” His voice came quietly across the
room and she closed her eyes, wondering if she could take the sound of it and commit it to memory.

“Piece of cake,” she replied, trying to inject some vigor into her words. They fell flat.

“Mari, I…”

“Luca, would…”

They both halted as they interrupted each other. He held out his hand, offering to let her go first.

Always the gentleman.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have some lunch before you leave for the airport.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

Mari shook her head. Would she feel better or worse for it? “Probably not. But I’m tired of being wise.”

The air crackled between them. She didn’t look away, couldn’t. She wanted to remember how he looked in his Italian suits, remember the sound of his voice, the way his cologne smelled. Wanted to imprint everything about him on her memory. She’d thought they had time, but after last night, the sand in the hourglass was slipping away much too quickly.

From the moment he’d stepped up and defended her, something had snapped, had turned around. Perhaps it was ridiculous, but she’d felt part of a unit. That with him beside her Robert couldn’t hurt her anymore. She loved him for that. Loved him for giving her safety, and freedom. He was her asylum.

Now he was taking it away, and she refused to accept it. She didn’t need asylum anymore. Robert was gone. He had no power over her now. And she wanted Luca more than ever before.

“Mari.” He leaned back against the conference table and folded his arms. His lips were unsmiling, troubled. “Mari, if we do this it won’t change anything. I’m still leaving.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” He looked confused and his arms unfolded. “Don’t say goodbye? Would you rather I left without a word?”

Mari swallowed every single ounce of fear and lifted her eyes to his. “Don’t go.”

He sighed. “You’ll be fine here. You don’t need me.”

She shook her head. She’d opened the door and damn it, she was going to walk through it.

“I do need you. More than you know. Robert…”

Luca’s back came away from the wall. “Robert what? Did he contact you?” His hands gripped her elbows and she tried to ignore the thrill that shot through her, just having him this close. “Is he trying to find you? I swear, Mari, if he…”

Mari shook her head quickly. “No, no! Of course not…Luca, Robert is
dead
.”

Luca released her arms and stared at her dumbly. She started to laugh at his confounded expression.

“I’m sorry. But you should see your face.”

“How did it happen?”

“Car accident. I opened the letter when I got home last night.”

Luca came forward and hugged her, surprising her with the strength of the embrace. “I’m glad. Oh that sounds awful, doesn’t it? But I was worried about you. I told Vince…”

Mari pulled away. “You told Vince what?” Vince was their head of security, and she’d hired him herself two years earlier.

“I told him to keep an eye on you. To make sure you were protected.”

“And why does that matter to you?”

“How can you ask that?” He nearly exploded, spinning around and going behind the table, putting it between them.

Mari smiled and leaned slightly over the polished top. “I
am
asking that very thing. Why does my protection matter to you?”

“Because I…” He faltered and then scowled. “You know why.”

Oh, her Luca. He’d helped her more in a few short weeks than months of therapy ever had. She didn’t know how she could ever explain how much that meant. She knew in her
heart she couldn’t let him go without a fight, so for the first time in her life, she stopped hiding in the shadows and came out to face her fear head-on.

She let all her love for him shine out of her eyes. “Yes, I think I know why.” She straightened, folded her hands demurely and said with far more confidence than she felt: “Then stay. I love you, Luca. Stay with me and love me back.”

Nothing she could have said could have affected him more. His heart pounded at her words for a brief moment of elation before reality kicked in.

And in some small corner of his mind, he heard voices from his past. Voices asking for love and having it denied. Of going through the motions until it just wasn’t enough. He wasn’t fool enough to believe Mari actually meant it. And even if he did love her back—which he couldn’t possibly—it would be impossible for him to say the words.

“Mari, I don’t know what to say.” He knew he sounded cold and wished it were different. “I know what we said last night, about it meaning something, that was all true. But love…” His voice trailed away. He couldn’t say the words that leaped into his brain.
I’m not ready for love.

“You’ve been through a horrible ordeal, and I think if you take time to look at it rationally, you’ll see your feelings are misplaced gratitude.”

“I do owe you thanks,” she agreed, and from the way she worried her fingers he could tell this wasn’t coming easily for her. “For showing me how to feel again, Luca. For forcing me out of my box and into the world again.”

Oh, what had he done! His brilliant plans. Never had he considered they would end like this!

“I don’t need your gratitude.”

She drew back and he tried hard to ignore the hurt his jab had caused. It was written all over her face.

“You’re turning me away.”

He came around the table and took her icy hand in his. He’d give anything not to be breaking her heart right now, but he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He didn’t know how. He’d fought against it his whole life! He couldn’t just change who he was in an instant, just because she asked him to.

He remembered how she’d cried on his chest and poured out her pain. Hated himself for how much he wanted to stay and hold her that way. She’d made him weak. That’s what she’d done to him without even trying. And because he knew she hadn’t meant to do it, he placed all the blame firmly on himself for becoming vulnerable to her. And for giving her hope where he shouldn’t have.