A Bride for the Italian Boss

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A Bride for the Italian Boss Page 17

by Susan Meier


  His voice had become stronger. His conviction obvious.

  “Oh.” She wanted to say yes so bad it hurt to wrestle the word back down her throat. But she had to. “For a month you’ve said you don’t do relationships. Now suddenly you want to marry me?”

  He laughed. “All these years, I thought I was weak because I gave Kamila what she wanted and she left me anyway. So I made myself strong. People saw me as selfish. I thought I was determined.”

  “I understand that.”

  “Now I see I was selfish. I did not want to lose my dream again.”

  “I understand that, too.”

  He shook his head fiercely. “You’re missing what I’m telling you. I might have been broken by her loss, but Kamila was the wrong woman for me. I was never my real self with her. I was one compromise after another. With you, I am me. I see my temper and I rein it back. I see myself with kids. I see a house. I long to make you happy.”

  Oh, dear God, did the man have no heart? “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

  “I never say things I don’t mean. I love you, Daniella.” He reached for her again. “Do not get on that plane tomorrow.”

  She stepped back, so far that he couldn’t touch her, and pressed her fingers to her lips. Her heart so very desperately wanted to believe every word he said. Her brain had been around, though, for every time that same heart was broken. This man had called Paul’s proposal a stopgap measure...yet, here he was doing the same thing.

  “No.”

  His face fell. “No?”

  “What did you tell me about Paul asking to marry me the day before I left New York?”

  He frowned.

  “You said it was a stopgap measure. A way to keep me.”

  He walked toward her. “Daniella...”

  She halted him with a wave of her hand. “Don’t. I feel foolish enough already. You’re afraid I’m going to go home so you make a proposal that mocks everything I believe in.”

  She yearned to close her eyes at the horrible sense of how little he thought of her, but she held them open, held back her tears and made the hardest decision of her life.

  “I’m going back to New York.” Her heart splintered in two as she realized this really was the end. They’d never bump into each other at a coffee shop, never sit beside each other in the subway, never accidentally go to the same dry cleaner. He lived thousands of miles away from her and there’d be no chance for them to have the time they needed to really fall in love. He’d robbed them of that with his insulting proposal.

  “Mancini’s will be fine without me.” She tried a smile. “You will be fine without me.” She took another few steps back. “I’ve gotta go.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DANI RACED OUT of Mancini’s, quickly started Louisa’s little car and headed home. Her flight didn’t leave until ten in the morning. But she had to pack. She had to say goodbye to Louisa. She had to give back the tons of clothes her new friend had let her borrow for her job at Mancini’s.

  She swiped at a tear as she turned down the lane to Palazzo di Comparino. Her brain told her she was smart to be going home. Her splintered heart reminded her she didn’t have a home. No one to return to in the United States. No one to stay for in Italy.

  The kitchen light was on and as was their practice, Louisa had waited up for Dani. As soon as she stepped in the kitchen door, Louisa handed her a cup of tea. Dani glanced up at her, knowing the sheen of tears sparkled on her eyelashes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m going home.”

  Louisa blinked. “I thought this was settled.”

  “Nothing’s ever settled with Rafe.” She sucked in a breath. “The smart thing for me is to leave.”

  “What about the restaurant, your job, your destiny?”

  She fell to a seat. “He asked me to marry him.”

  Louisa’s eyes widened. “How is that bad? My God, Dani, even I can see you love the guy.”

  “I said no.”

  “Oh, sweetie! Sweetie! You love the guy. How the hell could you say no?”

  “I’ve been here four weeks, Louisa. Rafe is a confirmed bachelor and he asked me to marry him. The day before I’m supposed to go home. You do the math.”

  “What math? You have a return ticket to the United States. He doesn’t want you to go.”

  Dani slowly raised her eyes to meet Louisa’s. “Exactly. The proposal was a stopgap measure. He told me all about it when we talked about Paul asking me to marry him. He said Paul didn’t want to risk losing me, so the day before I left for Italy, he’d asked me to marry him.”

  “And you think that’s what Rafe did?”

  Her chin lifted. “You don’t?”

  * * *

  Rafe was seated at the bar on his third shot of whiskey when Emory ambled out into the dining room.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He presented the shot glass. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  Emory frowned. “Getting drunk?”

  Rafe saluted his correct answer.

  “After a successful catering event that could have gone south, you’re drinking?”

  “I asked Daniella to marry me. And do you know what she told me?”

  Looking totally confused, Emory slid onto the stool beside Rafe. “Obviously, she said no.”

  “She said no.”

  Emory laughed. Rafe scowled at him. “Why do you think this is funny?”

  “The look on your face is funny.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Come on, Rafe, you’ve known the girl a month.”

  “So she doesn’t trust me?”

  Emory laughed. “Look at you. Look at how you’ve treated her. Would you trust you?”

  “Yeah, well, she’s leaving for New York tomorrow. I didn’t want her to go.”

  Emory frowned. “Ah. So you asked her to marry you to keep her from going?”

  “No. I asked her to marry me because I love her.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “But I’d also told her that her boyfriend had asked her to marry him the day before she left for Italy as a stopgap measure. Wanting to tie her to him, without giving her a real commitment, he’d asked. But he hadn’t really meant it. He just didn’t want her to go.”

  Emory swatted him with a dish towel. “Why do you tell her these things?”

  “At the time it made sense.”

  “Yeah, well, now she thinks you only asked her to marry you to keep her from going back to New York.”

  “No kidding.”

  Emory swatted him again. “Get the hell over to Palazzo di Comparino and fix this!”

  “How?”

  Emory’s eyes narrowed. “You know what she wants...what she needs. Not just truth, proof. If you love her, and you’d better if you asked her to marry you, you have to give her proof.”

  He jumped off the stool, grabbed Emory’s shoulders and noisily kissed the top of his head. “Yes. Yes! Proof! You are a hundred percent correct.”

  “You just make sure she doesn’t get on that plane.”

  * * *

  Dani’s tears dried as she and Louisa packed her things. Neither one of them expected to sleep, so they spent the night talking. They talked of keeping in touch. Video chatting and texting made that much easier than it used to be. And Louisa had promised to come to New York. They would be thousands of miles apart but they would be close.

  Around five in the morning, Dani shoved off her kitchen chair and sadly made her way to the shower. She dressed in her own old raggedy jeans and a worn sweater, the glamour of her life in Tuscany, and Louisa’s clothes behind her now.

  When she came downstairs, Louisa had also dressed. She’d promised to take her to the airport and she’d gotten ready.

  But there was an odd gleam in her eye when she said, “Shall we go?”

  Dani sighed, knowing she’d miss this house but also realizing she’d found a friend who could be like a sister. The trip wasn’t an entire waste after
all.

  She smiled at Louisa. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  They got into the ugly green car and rather than let Dani drive, Louisa got behind the wheel.

  “I thought you refused to drive until you understood Italy’s rules of the road better.”

  Stepping on the gas, Louisa shrugged. “I’ve gotta learn some time.”

  She drove them out of the vineyard and out of the village. Then the slow drive to Florence began. But even before they went a mile, Louisa turned down an old road.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I promised someone a favor.”

  Dani frowned. “Do we have time?”

  “Plenty of time. You’re fine.”

  “I know I’m fine. It’s my flight I’m worried about.”

  “I promise you. I will pull into the driveway and be pulling out two minutes later.”

  Dani opened her mouth to answer but she snapped it closed when she realized they were at the old farmhouse Maria the real estate agent had shown her and Rafe. She faced Louisa. “Do you know the person who bought this?”

  “Yes.” She popped open her door. “Come in with me.”

  Dani pushed on her door. “I thought you said this would only take a minute.”

  “I said two minutes. What I actually said was I promise I will be pulling out of this driveway two minutes after I pull in.”

  Dani walked up the familiar path to the familiar door and sighed when it groaned as Louisa opened it. “Whoever bought this is in for about three years of renovations.”

  Louisa laughed before she called out, “Hello. We’re here.”

  Rafe stepped out from behind a crumbling wall. Dani skittered back. “Louisa! This is your friend?”

  “I didn’t say he was my friend. I said I knew him.” Louisa gave Dani’s back a little shove. “He has some important things to say to you.”

  “I bought this house for you,” Rafe said, not giving Dani a chance to reply to Louisa.

  “I don’t want a house.”

  He sighed. “Too bad. Because you now have a house.” He motioned her forward. “I see a big kitchen here. Something that smells like heaven.”

  She stopped.

  He motioned toward the huge room in the front. “And big, fat chairs that you can sink into in here.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I am not being funny. You,” he said, pointing at her, “want a home. I want you. Therefore, I give you a home.”

  “What? Since a marriage proposal didn’t keep me, you offer me a house?”

  “I didn’t say I was giving you a house. I said I was giving you a home.” He walked toward the kitchen. “And you’re going to marry me.”

  She scrambled after him. “Exactly how do you expect to make that happen?”

  She rounded the turn and walked right into him. He caught her arms and hauled her to him, kissing her. She made a token protest, but, honestly, this was the man she couldn’t resist.

  He broke the kiss slowly, as if he didn’t ever want to have to stop kissing her. “That’s how I expect to make that happen.”

  “You’re going to kiss me until I agree?”

  “It’s an idea with merit. But it won’t be all kissing. We have a restaurant. You have a job. And there’s a bedroom back here.” He headed toward it.

  Once again, she found herself running after him. Cold air leeched in from the window and she stopped dead in her tracks. “The window leaks.”

  “Then you’re going to have to hire a general contractor.”

  “Me?”

  He straightened to his full six-foot-three height. “I am a master. I cook.”

  “Oh, and I clean and make babies?”

  He laughed. “We will hire someone to clean. Though I like the part about you making babies.”

  Her heart about pounded its way out of her chest. “You want kids?”

  He walked toward her slowly. “We want kids. We want all that stuff you said about fat chairs and good-smelling kitchens and turning the thermostat down so that we can snuggle.”

  Her heart melted. “You don’t look like a snuggler.”

  “I’ll talk you into doing more than snuggling.”

  She laughed. Pieces of the ice around her heart began to melt. Her eyes clung to his. “You’re serious?”

  “I wouldn’t have told Louisa to bring you here if I weren’t. I don’t do stupid things. I do impulsive things.” He grinned. “You might have to get used to that.”

  She smiled. He motioned for her to come closer and when she did, he wrapped his arms around her.

  “I could not bear to see you go.”

  “You said Paul only asked me to marry him as a stopgap measure.”

  “Yes, but Paul is an idiot. I am not.”

  She laughed again and it felt so good that she paused to revel in it. To memorize the feeling of his arms around her. To glance around at their house.

  “Oh, my God, this is a mess.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  She laid her head on his chest and breathed in his scent. She counted to ten, waited for him to say something that would drive her away, then realized what she was really waiting for.

  She glanced up at him. “I’m so afraid you’re going to hurt me.”

  “I know. And I’m going to spend our entire lives proving to you that you have no need to worry.”

  She laughed and sank against him again. “I love you.”

  “After only four weeks?”

  She peeked up again. “Yes.”

  “So this time you’ll believe me when I say it.”

  She swallowed. Years of fear faded away. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He shifted back, just slightly, so he could pull a small jewelry box from the pocket of his jeans. He opened it and revealed a two-carat diamond. “I love you. So you will marry me?”

  She gaped at the ring, then brought her gaze to his hopeful face. When he smiled, she hugged him fiercely. “Yes!”

  He slipped the ring onto her finger. “Now, weren’t we on our way back to the bedroom?”

  “For what? There’s no bed back there.”

  He said, “Oh, you of no imagination. I have a hundred ways around that.”

  “A hundred, isn’t that a bit ambitious?”

  “Get used to it. I am a master, remember?”

  “Yeah, you are,” she said, and then she laughed. She was getting married, going to make babies...going to make a home—in Italy.

  With the man of her dreams.

  Because finally, finally she was allowed to have dreams.

  * * * * *

  Read on for an extract from THE MILLIONAIRE’S TRUE WORTH by Rebecca Winters.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “CHLOE? I’M SORRY I can’t be your maid of honor, but you know why.”

  Following that statement there was a long silence on Chloe’s part. But Raina had her job plus the many responsibilities thrown onto her shoulders since the death of her grandfather. She was now heiress to the Maywood billion-dollar fortune and was constantly in the news. When she went out in public, the paparazzi were right on her heels.

  Chloe’s family were high-profile Greek industrialists, a favorite target of the European paparazzi. Her marriage would be the top story in Athens. “If I were your maid of honor, the media would make a circus out of your special day.” Raina feared it would take the spotlight off her dear friend. For Chloe’s sake, she couldn’t risk it.

  Too much had happened in the intervening years. It had been eight years, in fact, since Chloe had lived with Raina and her grandparents during her senior year of high school. But they’d stayed in touch by phone and the internet.

  Three years ago Raina’s grandmother had died and Chloe had come to California with her parents for the funeral. Just nine months ago Raina’s grandfather had died and once again Chloe and her family had flown over to be with her for his funeral. Their close friendship had helped her get through her grief, and Chloe’s family had begged Raina to come bac
k to Greece with them.

  “Please tell me you understand, Chloe. I have no desire to intrude on your joy.”

  “I don’t care about me.”

  “But I do.”

  After a resigned sigh Chloe said, “Then at least stay at the house with me and my family. After all you did for me when I lived with you, my parents are anxious to do everything they can for you.”

  “Tell you what. After you’ve left on your honeymoon I’ll be thrilled to spend time with them before I fly back to California.”

  “They’ll want you to stay for several months. Think about it. We could have such a wonderful time together.”

  “I will think about it. As for right now I can’t wait to be at your reception. The photos you sent me in your wedding dress are fabulous!”

  “But you won’t get to see me married at the church.”

  “Much as I’m sorry about that, it’s better this way. I’ve already booked a room at the Diethnes Hotel. You can reach me on the phone there or on my cell phone. Chloe? You promise you haven’t told your fiancé my plans?”

  “I swear it. Of course he knows all about you, but he doesn’t have any idea that you are coming to Greece.”

  “Good. That’s how I want things to stay. This is going to be your day! If the press finds out I’m there, I’m afraid it will ruin things for you. Later this year I’ll fly over to meet him, or you can fly to California.”

  “I promise. He’s so wonderful, I can’t eat or sleep.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Ta le-me, Chloe,” she said, using one of the few Greek expressions she still remembered, before hanging up.

  Six years ago Raina had been in the same excited condition as her friend. Halfway through college she’d met Byron Wallace, a writer. After a whirlwind romance they were married. But it didn’t take long to see his selfish nature and suspect her new husband of being unfaithful. Armed with proof of his infidelity even before their two-year marriage anniversary, she’d divorced him, only to lose her grandmother to heart failure.

  In her pain she vowed never to marry again. She’d told as much to her beloved, ailing grandfather who’d passed away from stomach cancer.

  Chloe’s phone call a month ago about her impending marriage had come as a wonderful surprise. Since the death of Raina’s grandfather, it was the one piece of news that put some excitement back into her life.

 

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