The Secret Kept from the Italian

by Kate Hewitt

  ‘That was so incredible,’ Maisie said in a dreamy voice. ‘And the story was so sad.’

  ‘Aren’t all operas sad?’

  ‘I suppose so, although I’ve never actually been to the opera before.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  ‘Really?’ She shot him a curious look as she slid into the limo. ‘I assumed you’ve done just about everything.’

  ‘No, this is new.’ Too late he realised the double meaning of his words. This was new. Them. Antonio saw realisation flare in Maisie’s eyes, and he struggled with the urge to take it all back. Close it down.

  Somehow he didn’t. The silence stretched on as he got in the car and the driver pulled out into the traffic. Antonio glanced at Maisie; her cheek looked soft and round, the moonlight catching its silky curve, as she gazed out of the window.

  ‘I have a charity gala to attend this weekend,’ he said abruptly, and Maisie turned to him, eyebrows raised.

  ‘A charity gala?’

  ‘Yes, on Saturday. Why don’t you come with me?’

  Pleasure and uncertainty warred in her lovely, expressive features. ‘You want me to...?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘All right.’ She smiled shyly, the sparkle returning to her eyes. ‘Is it formal, though? Because then I really don’t have anything to wear.’

  ‘Sounds like you need a shopping trip in Milan, then,’ Antonio answered lightly. ‘How about tomorrow?’

  ‘But Ella...’

  ‘I’ll come as well. I can hold her while you try on gowns.’

  ‘All right.’ A smile bloomed on Maisie’s face and in his heart. He found he was already looking forward to tomorrow. To a whole lot of tomorrows.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  MAISIE GAZED AT her reflection in the mirror, amazed at her appearance. She felt utterly transformed, not just by the evening gown she’d picked out yesterday at a boutique that had been more luxurious than any shop she’d ever imagined, but also by her new hair and make-up.

  Antonio had arranged for a stylist to come to the house and Maisie had been both flattered and worried that he thought she needed the help of a professional to pass muster at an event like this one.

  And maybe she did, because the truth was, Maisie felt out of her league. Going to La Scala had already been a step up, but this, a party full of socialites and businessmen, a place where she’d have to impress, felt like entering another stratosphere. It was hard to breathe.

  The truth was, Antonio was out of her league, something that felt all too apparent now. It wasn’t so obvious when she was eating her body weight in spaghetti while they chatted at the dinner table, or when Antonio was tickling Ella’s feet or giving her a bottle. Safely cocooned in the haven that her villa had become, she felt Antonio’s equal, if not necessarily his partner. And as excited as she was to attend an elegant party on Antonio’s arm, she was also terrified. The last time she’d been at a party she’d been pouring the champagne. What if she messed up? What if she was laughed at? What if she made Antonio regret bringing her not just to the party, but to Italy as well?

  ‘Maisie?’ His voice, low and melodious, rippled over her senses. Maisie straightened her shoulders, giving her reflection one last glance. She looked good, better than she ever had before. She could take confidence in that, at least, even if she was nervous and uncertain about everything else...including Antonio himself.

  Yesterday, shopping with him had been so much fun, trying on and twirling around in various evening gowns, while he had held Ella and rated them from one to ten, nearly all of them coming in at ten or nine and a half. Maisie hadn’t missed the heat flaring in his eyes when he’d looked at her, and a thrill had run through her every time.

  He hadn’t touched her since the night of the anniversary of his brother’s death, even though Maisie had been hoping for a goodnight kiss after the opera. No, Antonio was keeping his distance that way, even if he was spending more time with her. He was still blowing hot and cold, and Maisie didn’t know what to do about it. How patient to be. How much to hope for. And where her self-respect fitted into all this, because she knew, in her heart, she was waiting for Antonio to make up his mind. And that wasn’t that great a feeling.

  ‘Maisie,’ Antonio said again, and now there was a note of affectionate exasperation in his voice that made Maisie smile. She unlocked the door to the bedroom, and did a little, nervous twirl.

  ‘You look magnificent,’ Antonio said, and Maisie thrilled to the husky note in his voice.

  ‘Has the babysitter arrived?’ she asked, mainly because she didn’t know how to respond to him when he was looking at her with such blatant male appreciation. And she knew she was looking at him with similar appreciation, for he looked devastatingly attractive in his midnight-black tuxedo, the crisp white shirt contrasting with his bronzed skin and dark hair, his eyes looking bluer and more piercing than ever.

  ‘Yes, the babysitter’s here,’ he said. ‘She’s waiting in the living area.’ He took her hand and drew her to him. ‘There’s no need to worry. Ella was fine the other night, and she’ll be fine tonight, as well. We can enjoy ourselves.’

  Which made it sound like a date. Antonio was certainly looking at her as if it was a date. After the happiness of the last few days, Maisie was too afraid to ask if it was. Maybe it was wrong or at least pathetic to take what few crumbs Antonio tossed her way, but she felt like Cinderella tonight and she wanted Antonio to be her prince...for a night. That was all she’d let herself dream of.

  ‘I have something for you,’ Antonio said, and Maisie blinked in surprise as he withdrew a slim box of black velvet from the inside pocket of his jacket. He presented it to her, snapping the box open with a flourish, and Maisie sucked in a breath of shocked delight at the emerald and diamond choker nestled in satin.

  ‘Antonio, it’s too much...’

  ‘It’s perfect for your dress,’ he replied, dismissing her half-hearted protest. She’d never seen such a beautiful piece of jewellery, never mind worn one. ‘Let me,’ Antonio murmured, and obediently Maisie turned around so he could clasp the choker around her neck.

  His fingers brushed the tender skin of her nape and shivers rippled outward as she drew a sharp breath in, trying to curb the heady desire that rushed through her at the simple touch. The last few days had been a torture of unsated desire, remembering their night together and longing for another one.

  If she were braver, she would have taken matters into her own hands, turned around to face him—and to kiss him. But she wasn’t that brave. She still didn’t know how he felt, not truly. Although they’d spent more time together, Antonio was still changeable, still occasionally remote. And, Maisie had realised, she’d done the heavy lifting in relationships so much in her life. For once she wanted Antonio to show her how he felt. How important she was to him. But perhaps he never would, because she wasn’t. She still didn’t know.

  The clasp done, Antonio rested his hands on her bare shoulders, his palms warm and sure against her skin as his breath fanned the back of her neck. Maisie closed her eyes, nearly swaying with need for him. Hope and desire tangled together as memories raced through her mind of their night together, the tenderness Antonio had shown, the honesty he’d given her with both his body and his words. Would he—could he—give it again?

  Neither of them spoke, the only sound their mingled breath. Then Antonio pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and Maisie trembled. It was so little, and yet so much.

  ‘We should go,’ he murmured, and she tried to make her legs less jelly-like as she turned around to face him. His eyes were opaque, his expression inscrutable, but he gave her the tiniest quirk of a smile as he took her hand and led her from the room.

  Soon they were heading outside into the dark, balmy night, the warm air silky against Maisie’s skin.

  She slid into the dim, luxurious interior of the waiting li
mo, and Antonio sat next to her, the long, hard length of his thigh pressing against her in a way that agitated her senses all over again.

  ‘How come you never drive?’ she asked as the limo pulled into Milan’s night traffic. ‘You always have a limo or at least a driver.’

  Antonio drummed his fingers on the armrest, his gaze on the blur of buildings streaming by outside, as he answered, ‘I haven’t driven in over ten years.’

  It didn’t take more than a second for Maisie to realise what he meant. ‘You mean since your brother’s death,’ she stated softly, and Antonio gave a terse nod.

  Maisie’s heart twisted inside her. ‘You’ve been tormented by his death for so long, Antonio,’ she said quietly. ‘When are you going to let it go?’

  ‘I can’t.’ His face was still averted. ‘I’ve tried, and you’ve helped, by listening.’ His voice was tight and suffocated, and Maisie knew how hard this was for him. She wanted to comfort him and assure him that he didn’t need to feel guilty, but she sensed that Antonio was reaching his limit for this kind of conversation. So she settled for simply putting her hand on his arm, and after a second’s pause Antonio rested his hand on top of hers. Neither of them spoke, and they stayed that way until the limo pulled up in front of the opulent hotel where the charity gala was being held.

  As Maisie left the limo and walked up the wide marble steps to the hotel her heart felt as if it would burst out of her chest. Pride and joy pulsed through her and she couldn’t keep from shooting Antonio a glance of pure happiness and excitement. He smiled back, and her heart sang.

  As they stepped through the hotel’s doors he leaned forward and murmured, ‘I already know you will be the most beautiful woman here tonight.’

  Maisie’s chin lifted another notch and she straightened her shoulders as she sailed through the doors on Antonio’s arm.

  * * *

  The evening had only just begun and it was already spinning out of control. Already, at least a dozen times in the last few days, Antonio had broken his resolution to be remote. It had started when he’d stayed for dinner two nights ago, and then continued when he’d invited Maisie to La Scala, and then shopping, and now this ball. He kept upping the ante when he should have folded. The stakes were simply too high. And yet here he was. Here they were.

  Instead of moving away from Maisie, he was moving towards her, and no more so than now, when he walked into a roomful of colleagues and acquaintances with her on his arm.

  And, although part of him was muttering that he was being a dangerous fool, Antonio couldn’t regret a thing. Maisie looked radiant, her lovely, heart-shaped face full of joy, her eyes shining like jade stars. And he was proud to be on her arm. Proud and delighted.

  Within moments they were swept up in the crowd, and Antonio began introducing her to various people he knew. He didn’t mention Ella or the nature of his relationship to Maisie, although he could sense people’s surprise. He normally came to events such as this one alone, not wanting to complicate things or raise the expectations of his ever-so-brief liaisons. The simple fact of Maisie’s presence was cause enough for people to take note.

  And, although he knew she’d been nervous to attend such a glittering event, Maisie held her own marvellously. Her natural warmth and generous nature attracted people to her, even the skinny socialites who were normally quick to unsheathe their claws. Antonio’s pride and delight both grew.

  Halfway through the evening Antonio was called into a private conversation with a business associate, and he watched, distracted, as Maisie was swept up by the crowd. He wasn’t worried, not exactly, but he didn’t like her being on her own.

  ‘You certainly seem smitten,’ Raoul, his business associate, remarked drily. ‘I’ve never seen you with a woman before, Antonio. You usually avoid them unless there’s a bed near by.’

  Antonio winced, even though he knew it was true. ‘Maisie isn’t like that.’

  ‘And neither are you, it seems. Tell me, is it serious?’

  Antonio met Raoul’s laughing gaze, suddenly stricken. Of course it wasn’t serious. They weren’t even dating, no matter what had happened three nights ago. The memory of it was still imprinted on his mind, his soul. And yet...despite that, despite everything, he’d somehow managed to deceive himself that he wasn’t changing their status. He certainly wasn’t starting to care about Maisie. He just liked being with her.

  ‘Now you’re looking like a rabbit trapped in a snare,’ Raoul said with a laugh. ‘And here I was, thinking I was pointing out the obvious.’

  ‘It’s...’ Antonio’s mind spun. He didn’t want to denigrate Maisie in any way by saying he didn’t care for her, and yet...how could he? How could he risk that much, when he knew how much love hurt, how much you lost when it was gone? When he knew, as sure as anything he’d ever known, that he would end up hurting Maisie because he’d hurt everyone he’d ever cared about? ‘It’s a complicated situation,’ he finally said, making his tone repressive. ‘But I esteem Maisie highly. Very highly indeed.’

  Later, when he’d finished his conversation, he went in search of her, and found her standing in the corner, clutching a glass of champagne and looking thoughtful.

  ‘Are you having a good time?’ he asked as he stood beside her, unable to keep from slipping an arm around her slender waist.

  ‘Yes, I have been. Very much so.’ She sounded hesitant, and Antonio didn’t like that.

  ‘Dance with me,’ he said, mostly because he wanted to feel her body next to his. She came willingly, and as they stepped onto the dance floor Antonio put his arms around her and drew her snugly into his embrace.

  They swayed silently for a few minutes to the strings of the orchestra, neither of them speaking. Antonio glanced down at Maisie and saw her forehead was furrowed in thought. Gently he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face up so she was looking at him.

  ‘What is it, Maisie?’ he asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You seem troubled.’

  ‘Not troubled.’

  ‘Then...?’

  She hesitated, her lips pressed together, her wide green gaze trained on him. ‘While you were talking to that businessman...’

  Something remarkably like fear clutched at Antonio’s chest. ‘Yes?’

  ‘People were talking. About you.’

  He felt cold, although he kept his voice steady and light as he answered. ‘And?’

  ‘They were saying things. Things you’ve never explained...’

  What on earth was he meant to explain? What had they said? Antonio didn’t think he wanted to know. ‘What kind of things?’

  ‘Good things,’ Maisie burst out, shocking him. ‘Antonio, they were telling me how this business of yours—acting as a consultant when businesses are being taken over—is actually charitable. That you come in and try to minimise the impact of the takeover on all the employees, even the cleaners. That people have said they owe their lives to you.’ Antonio stared at her dumbly, shocked that it was actually good things she’d heard. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked in a quieter voice. ‘Here I was, getting false information from ridiculous tabloids and thinking you were a heartless monster who only cared about making a profit.’

  ‘Profits are important—’

  ‘One man,’ Maisie cut across him, fierce now, ‘explained that you don’t actually make any money from this service. When companies hire you to smooth over the transition period, you add your consulting fee to the severance packages of the employees whose jobs are being cut. You don’t get anything. You take time off from your own work to help other businesses, other people.’ It was all true, so he simply nodded. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Maisie cried softly. ‘Correct me? I had it so, so wrong, and I let it colour my perception of you.’

  ‘And has your perception changed?’

  ‘Of course it has.’
>
  ‘How?’

  ‘Because...because I know you’re a good man. Not just with your own child, which I saw before, but in every way. Before now I had to reconcile the man I knew, the man who held me so tenderly, who cuddled Ella and cared about every little thing, with the ruthless businessman the media portray you to be. And now I don’t have to do that any more.’ Her eyes sparkled with tears as she smiled. ‘I know who you are.’

  Antonio felt as if she’d sucker-punched him with that clear, pure statement. She’d grabbed his heart and wasn’t letting go, because she was right. She did know him, and she was still here. Still smiling at him. He’d told her his worst secrets and she’d discovered his best, and she was here.

  ‘Let’s leave this party,’ he said, his voice a growl of intent.

  ‘Leave...?’

  ‘I want to be alone with you.’

  Colour suffused Maisie’s face and a small smile curved those lips he already felt the burning need to taste. ‘All right,’ she whispered. Antonio didn’t wait for more. Taking her by the hand, he led her off the dance floor, out of the hotel and into the night.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘GOOD MORNING.’

  Maisie blinked sleepily in the early sunlight, her body aching rather deliciously from the long bout of lovemaking she and Antonio had shared last night. There had been no words between them as they’d driven home, because there hadn’t needed to be. Everything had felt expectant, exciting, and yet also supremely peaceful. For once Maisie had had no doubts, no worries, no fears.

  Back at the villa Antonio had dismissed the babysitter and the very second the door had closed behind her Maisie was in his arms. Whether she or Antonio had moved first, she couldn’t have said. It didn’t matter. Their bodies and lips and even their souls had met in perfect, harmonious accord...and remained so for most of the night.

  But, now that bright sunlight was streaming through the windows, Maisie was conscious of her incredible bed-head, especially given how unforgivably sexy Antonio looked wearing only a pair of drawstring pyjama bottoms, hair mussed, his eyes sparkling as he held two mugs of coffee... She felt happy, but she also fought a needle-like pinprick of doubt. What was going to happen now? Because she knew, with a leaden certainty, that Antonio was still calling the shots. Perhaps he always would be.