Billionaire Brides: An Anthology

by Connelly, Clare

  He nodded. “She’s been the making of Fiero.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s softened him, and made him humble in a way he needed.” Nico had visibly relaxed. “I’m one of his closest friends but he had a habit of pushing people away. Elodie and Jack made that impossible.”

  “Jack seems adorable.”

  “He’s a handful, just like Fiero as a child,” Nico laughed. “But he’s also a very sweet boy.”

  “You’re good with him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you –,” Her voice tapered off into nothing, the question she’d been about to ask surprising her for how intimate it was.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Not nothing,” he insisted, latching his fingers behind her back, wrapping her in the circle of his arms.

  “I was going to ask if, after Alexander, you wanted children of your own?”

  She was close enough to see his Adam’s apple shift in response. “No.”

  “No, you didn’t think about it? Or ‘no’ you didn’t want them?”

  “I didn’t want them.” Then, a moment later, “I still don’t.”

  Maddie was surprised by the force of her reaction to that. She wanted to argue with him, to convince him he should have children. But to what end? She had no skin in the game – Nico was his own man, he could do whatever he wanted. But he was so good with Jack, seeing them together had made her realise he’d be an excellent father.

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Is it?”

  He was quietly watchful and something pricked at her skin, lifting goose bumps all over her.

  “And you?” he moved deeper in the water, so her feet could no longer touch the bottom, so she lifted her legs, wrapping them around his back, the intimacy of that warming her even as their conversation was sharp and pointed.

  “And me?” She asked, breathlessly.

  “Do you want children?”

  “I always thought I did,” she agreed with a small shift of her head.

  “You’re not sure now?”

  “No, I am,” she bit down on her lower lip, trying to find the right words. “When I was with Mich – my ex,” she recovered quickly, silently cursing the slip of the tongue. “It became a matter of survival. I would never have started a family with him.”

  “Did he want to?”

  Nausea shifted through her. “He mentioned it once or twice.” A shiver ran down her spine. It had been more like a threat – a way of tying her to him for the rest of their lives.

  “When you go back to England,” he said after a moment, his expression distracted.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think he’ll still want to see you?”

  “Do I think he’ll be looking for me?” She bit down on her lip, moving it from side to side. “The truth is, it’s possible.” She swallowed, her delicate throat shifting with the involuntary action. “And on one level, that terrifies me, but on the other, I’m different now. Like getting away from him, taking some time to recover mentally and emotionally, has reminded me that I’m strong and independent, that I can handle him. Before, it was like I was drowning and every time I thought I could get my head above water, another wave would come and crash against me, so I would go under water once more. But I don’t feel that now.”

  He nodded slowly, the look of pride in his eyes unmistakable. “You’re so strong, Maddie.”

  “Yeah. I am. And you make me feel invincible,” she said honestly, and then she smiled, because from the ravages of her heartbreak she felt the kind of happiness she hadn’t believed possible, seven months earlier.

  * * *

  “You can come if you want.” He heard the offer and inwardly cringed. Maddie was leaving Ondechiara in a week’s time. Why in the world would he invite her to come to Villa Fortune with him, to eat with his family and Yaya? “Elodie and Fiero will be there. I know Jack would love to see you again.”

  But Maddie shook her head, her hair blowing around her face so he wanted to ball it in his hands and hold her to him, kiss her until she was whimpering into his mouth and her body was soft against his. He wanted to kiss her surrender from her and he wanted to make her his. Again. And again and again. He was already leaving an hour later than he’d intended because getting out of bed had been an almost impossible feat.

  Leaving her now, with her hair tousled and her body clad in just an oversized shirt of his that hung off one shoulder, was ridiculously hard.

  “Your ankle’s definitely better?”

  As if understanding his question, Dante, at her feet, nosed the delicate flesh there. Maddie smiled. “We’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be gone one night. If it wasn’t Yaya’s birthday…”

  “Go.” She stood up onto the tips of her toes so her shirt lifted along her tanned thighs and he groaned.

  “You’re killing me, Maddie.”

  She grinned, batting her long dark lashes. “I hope so.”

  When he was getting around the small coastline of Ondechiara, Nico drove. But going to the airport, he preferred to have his driver meet him. It meant he could work, and on this occasion, he was grateful not to have to navigate traffic when his mind was busy pulling apart the question of Maddie Gray and the part she’d started to play in his life, and his mind. What had started as a casual fling had quickly turned into something different, if only by virtue of the fact she’d basically moved in with him after her ankle injury. She was well enough to go back to La Villetta now, but he didn’t encourage that and fortunately, she hadn’t suggested it.

  He liked having her around.

  He loved waking up next to her.

  Something like panic pushed all the air from his lungs, because he sensed the danger of this – of how much he could come to care for her. How much he already did care for her?

  The countryside sped by his window and his eyes ran over it, barely noticing the vines and rolling hills, the glistening ocean in the distance.

  Was it so bad if he’d started to have feelings for Maddie?

  He closed his eyes and it was like being drowned, just like Maddie had described. That sense of independence that had been a part of him from childhood. Was it leaving his mother that had done it? Made him determined never to love nor rely on another person to quite that extent, as long as he should live? Claudette had messed him up, but she wasn’t the first person to break his heart. No, his mother held that privilege and now, he saw that it had shaped him in a way he hadn’t been fully cognisant of. Being wrenched from his home and moved to his grandparents’ had been harder than he’d ever admitted. He loved Yaya and Gianfelice but he’d adored his mother, even when he could now see how inadequate her style of parenting was. To be pulled from her home and told he now lived somewhere else, with someone else, had ripped the rug out from under him.

  Was that the root of his inability to contemplate a future with anyone?

  What if he let Maddie in and she lied to him, like Claudette did? What if she stopped wanting him one day, like his own mother had? Nico would have said he wasn’t afraid of anything but the wounds he’d had inflicted at four years of age were slow to heal and stood like cautionary tales to any kind of softening he might have been tempted to do.

  They’d set the rules for this affair from the outset and the smartest thing to do would be to stick to them. No matter how tempted he was to do otherwise.

  When he boarded his jet, his secretary was there. “Messages, Nico.” She handed him a legal pad with handwritten names and numbers. He scrolled through them, mentally triaging the most important before turning the page. It was there that a name stood out to him and brought a small frown to his face.

  “Michael Walsh called?”

  She nodded. “He said it was personal. Do you want me to call him back?”

  “I’ll do it.” Nico read through the rest of the list, but a heaviness settled inside of him when he thought of his friend.

  In school
, Michael had shown such intelligence and promise – hardly surprising given he’d gained a scholarship to the prestigious institution – but there’d been an anxiety to him Nico hadn’t, as a teenager, fully appreciated. He’d never known someone quite as driven as Michael, and yet discovering that Michael had cheated on their finals exams had shocked Nico. Cheating had never occurred to him – he would always want to rise and fall on his merits than anything else.

  Michael, with all his intelligence, felt the pressure and let it get to him, so he’d gravitated to whatever means he could to succeed.

  The last time they’d spoken – a couple of years earlier – had been awkward. The investment fund Michael had started had been on the brink of collapse, and with little wonder given that Michael was pulling money out to pay for his significant gambling debts. He’d wanted Nico to invest a small fortune, knowing that the Montebello name would bring credibility to the investments and encourage others to vote with their wallets. Nico wouldn’t – couldn’t – do that. Not after he’d taken a look at the portfolio. He’d bailed Michael out though, but on reflection, he wished he’d done more. Some kind of support with his gambling and the drinking Nico suspected had become an addiction.

  He’d spoken to him about it, suggested Michael get help, but that hadn’t been enough, in hindsight. It was in the midst of the fallout from Gianfelice and Claudette and he’d been distracted by his own life.

  Guilt at the fact he’d let down a man he’d once thought of as a friend had him reaching into the console of his leather armchair, pulling the air phone from it, and dialling the number his secretary had transcribed. When Michael answered, his voice sounded a little slurred.

  “Michael. It’s me. Nico.”

  “Nico Montebello, as I live and breathe. You actually called me back.”

  Guilt hit him like an anvil. “Certamente.” A pause that crackled with their silence. And then, “What’s up, man?”

  Another silence. Nico drummed his fingers against the leather armrest, staring straight ahead as the engines began to whir faster, the plane began to speed along the runway and finally lifted off.

  “Are you in London?”

  “I’m on my way to Villa Fortune. Why?”

  “I wanted to meet with you. To discuss something.”

  Nico compressed his lips, suppressing a groan. He knew he’d feel guilty as all heck if he put his old friend off, and yet the idea of adding anything else onto this trip was anathema to him. He wanted to get back to Maddie as soon as possible. They had seven more nights together. That was all. La Villetta had been rented to a holiday-maker and the only alternative was for her to move permanently to his place.

  And while he loved the idea of having her in his home for as long as they both enjoyed their arrangement, he knew it was fraught with danger for both of them. Besides, even if he suggested that, he wasn’t sure Maddie would agree. In fact, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t. Given what she’d been through, could he blame her for wanting to be single a while?

  His stomach rolled at that, though. Not of Maddie being single so much as ‘what came next’ for her. Surely she wouldn’t be alone for long. And then? Marriage? Children?

  His gut clenched. He rejected the idea of that without reason to. He had every reason to suspect she wanted to leave him just as much as he knew she had to. “Can we talk over the phone?”

  “It’ll be better in person. Why? Are you too busy for me?”

  Discomfort needled Nico’s spine. They were in their twenties before he’d become conscious of Michael’s ability to manipulate people into doing his bidding. He used passive aggression as most people drew breath.

  “I am busy.” Nico’s tone was short, bordering on dismissive.

  “I could come to you? Villa Fortune?”

  “No.” Then, more softly, because whatever had become of Michael, they’d been friends a long time. “It’s Yaya’s birthday. Just the family.” And, if she’d said yes, Maddie. He was cognisant of that, and didn’t want to analyse it further.

  “Ondechiara then? Do you still spend summers there?”

  Nico had a visceral reaction to that. The idea of sharing his home with anyone else during his last week with Maddie?

  “Could it wait a week?”

  “It could wait a day,” Michael said urgently. “Please.”

  And only the sense that something was seriously wrong pushed Nico that extra mile. With a sigh of deep frustration and a growing sense of unease, he nodded into the empty plane carriage. “Fine. I’ll have my secretary arrange your flights.”

  “I can –,”

  “She’ll do it,” Nico interjected. After all, if he left it to Michael, he might choose to stay heaven knew how long. Nico wanted him gone within hours of arriving. “I’ll see you soon.”

  * * *

  “You like that, huh?” She smiled as Dante bit into the crisp pear, her eyes shifting from the affectionate dog to the hillside they’d found their way to, covered with the fruit. Dante had led the way, she presumed it was somewhere he came to often. Either that or the fragrance of this sun-warmed fruit had caught his nose from the villa.

  She reached down and ran her hand over his shaggy mane. Beyond them, the ocean glittered, shades of turquoise and silver, with beautiful boats bobbing on its surface. The outlook was one she wouldn’t – couldn’t – forget. Looking at it now, she realised this could very well have been the vantage point for the artist of the print that she’d first seen at Michael’s. That painting had come to be a touchstone for Maddie, and looking at the view now, she couldn’t help but think there had been something almost other-worldly about her pull to this place.

  Had she known, on some level, that Nico would be here? The one person on earth – surely – with the ability to stitch all the pieces of who she was back into place?

  It had been the view at first, the promise of a picturesque setting with the power to heal, but meeting Nico just seemed too fortuitous. She planted her hands on her hips and turned, her eyes chasing the villa. She could make it out from here, the beautiful white-washed walls, one covered with hungry bougainvillea, the sun glinting off the top of the roof, and she smiled, because Nico would be home soon, and when he arrived, she intended to be waiting for him.

  “Come on, Dante. I think I hear his car.”

  Chapter 11

  “CAN YOU NOT BRING your laptop here?”

  “I could,” she hesitated, fork halfway to mouth, her eyes devouring Nico in that way she’d developed, as though she could somehow store up all her sightings of him and drop them like breadcrumbs through her post-Nico life to make his absence somehow more bearable.

  Unless…

  Yes, that word had been coming to her a lot in the last few days. Unless. Unless what? Unless she stayed a bit longer? She couldn’t. Not without officially moving in with Nico. A new tenant had already been organised for la villetta, when she vacated it. Plus, she had a real life she had to get back to at some stage. Ondechiara had been the perfect balm to her soul but it was a Band-Aid. She couldn’t hide out here forever.

  Unless?

  Unless what?

  Unless Nico asked her to?

  Her heart shuttled through her body but she quelled it instantly. He didn’t want that. He’d been emphatic from the beginning and she understood it. He’d been burned – badly – by Claudette. If he wanted anything more with Maddie than he’d have to spell it out. She would never presume this had meant anything more to him than he’d suggested it would: a bit of fun over summer.

  And what did she want? It was a question she’d been assiduously avoiding asking herself. The answer nearly terrified her because on some level she knew she wanted the impossible.

  She wanted Nico – all of Nico, for all time.

  “So?”

  She drew her thoughts back to the present, forcing a teasing smile to her face. “I think I’d likely find the view a little distracting?” She pointedly glanced to his naked torso, warmed by the sun and glow
ing bronze.

  “I could wear a shirt.”

  “Don’t do that.” She shook her head, her smile lifting.

  “Ever again?”

  “Well, maybe once I’m gone,” she forced herself to acknowledge, as though saying the words would make that prospect hurt less. They had three nights left. How had this last week flown by so quickly?

  His expression didn’t change. It was impossible to think he felt anything in response to that, whereas she felt more than enough for both of them.

  She barrelled past it. “I’ll just be a few hours. I haven’t been back in days. I should check the place is okay, get a change of clothes,” she gestured to the shirt of his she wore, not admitting that she far preferred it to anything else. “These are delicious.” She rushed on, changing the subject, indicating the eggs on her plate. He’d baked them in a ramekin, adding bell pepper, spinach, and a type of hard cheese. “Another recipe of Yaya’s?”

  He grinned. “Naturally. She would add prosciutto and enough chilli to make your eyes water.”

  “I like it your way.” Oh, no. Out of nowhere the sting of tears was cloying at her throat so she shovelled the eggs into her mouth then reached for her orange juice, taking a sip and turning pointedly to look towards the ocean.

  “What will you do when the summer’s over?” She heard herself ask, as though she were some kind of glutton for punishment. As though the idea of life going on beyond this wasn’t something that stuck in her sides.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll go to Rome?”

  “Ah. I have business in New York,” he said with a nod that drew her attention back to him. “That will see me through the tail-end of the year, most likely. Then back to Villa Fortune for Christmas.”

  Something panged in the region of her heart. “That sounds…nice.”

  His laugh was gravelled. “It’s loud. The six of us and now Elodie, Jack and the twins, Yaya overseeing everything, telling us we’ve burned the panettone and that the custard is too sweet.”