A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir

by Jennie Lucas

  Her love for him was her weakness.

  As for his own feelings—he would not feel them. They did not exist.

  The one who cared least was the one who’d win.

  “I missed you, Scarlett.” Vin gave her a smile so sensual that she blushed to her ears. Excellent. “I swear to you on my life,” he said softly, “I’ll never let us be apart so long again.”

  She smiled happily, not knowing his dark intentions. Taking her hand, he rubbed his thumb lightly against her palm, then kissed it, feeling her shiver.

  Soon, she would be unable to defy him. His decisions would automatically prevail. She would be forced to get over her ridiculous fear of flying and travel with him when he wished. It would be good for their family. And their marriage. A flash of heat went through him as he looked down at her, at the curve of her white throat, the shape of her full breasts beneath her silk blouse.

  From now on, she would have no choice but to obey. In his home. In his bed. She’d be at his command. Exactly where she belonged.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SOMETHING HAD CHANGED in Vin. As Scarlett welcomed him back from Tokyo, she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

  Their last time in bed together, on Christmas Eve, had been rough and sensual and explosive. Even when he’d been tender, as he pushed inside her, his emotion had been raw on his face.

  But today, since he’d returned, she felt a distance. Even as he smiled at her, even as he held her in his arms, even as he leaned down to kiss her, his dark eyes hinting at untold delights to come later—even then, there was something hidden behind his expression.

  What was he hiding?

  Was she imagining it?

  She puzzled over it all day as they played with the baby, then got ready to go out for the evening. When she broached the subject of moving to New York, he told her he didn’t want to discuss it. “Tonight, I just want to enjoy your company, cara.”

  They went out that night to his sister’s wedding rehearsal dinner at a charming restaurant not too far from the Piazza Navona. Giuseppe, Joanne and Maria were delighted when he’d arrived. They’d all missed him, too. Halfway through the dinner, when Scarlett rose to her feet and publicly toasted his success with the Mediterranean Airlines deal, everyone at the table clapped and cheered.

  Vin ducked his head, looking embarrassed. After all the work he’d put into the deal, his boyish humility made her more proud of him than ever. And love him more than ever.

  Finally, after they returned home, after he tucked their sleeping baby into his crib, he took Scarlett to bed, too. She relished the warmth of him, the strength of him, the feel of him beside her.

  She’d missed him for those two weeks.

  It scared her how much she needed him now.

  This time, as Vin made love to her, he held her gently, tenderly, looking deeply into her eyes. But his own eyes were carefully blank.

  He touched her as if his fingertips wished to tell her everything he could not put into words. She tried to guess. He was sorry? He regretted their fight—which had been so awful, so brutal to her heart? That he hadn’t lied when he said he loved her?

  He made her body explode with ecstasy as he poured into her with a groan, then afterward he held her all night, snugly against his chest, in a way he’d never done before.

  Cradled against him, with his strong arms around her, Scarlett felt protected. She decided she was imagining things, creating problems where they didn’t exist. They were husband and wife. They were partners in life. They were in love.

  She woke up smiling for the first time in two weeks. She heard a morning bird singing outside and stretched, yawning, every bit of her body feeling deliciously satisfied. How could she be anything other than happy? Vin was home at last. And today was Maria’s wedding day.

  Whatever conflicts arose between her and Vin, they’d work through them. Maybe they’d live in Rome for half the year, New York the other half.

  She looked over at his side of the bed, but it was empty.

  Scarlett started to get out of bed in her negligee, when she heard the bedroom door kick open. Startled, she saw Vin, wearing only a towel wrapped around his trim waist, holding a breakfast tray with a rose in a small bud vase.

  “You brought me breakfast?” Scarlett said in surprise. “But you must be exhausted. You traveled so long yesterday...”

  “Exactly. I left you here alone to take care of Nico and my sister’s wedding and all the rest. It’s time I took care of you for a change.” His dark eyes crinkled as he smiled, setting the tray on her lap, over the white comforter.

  “By the way,” he said casually as he turned away, “I’ve left some papers on the tray for you to sign. They’re under the rose.”

  Frowning, Scarlett looked down. “What kind of papers?”

  “No big deal.” He shrugged. “Just to officially mark that you are my wife. For the Italian authorities.”

  She glanced at the top sheet. It was written in Italian and did seem to say something about being his wife. But her Italian language skills, in spite of her recent study, weren’t strong enough to sort through the indecipherable legalese. She hesitated. “My dad always said only a fool signs something he doesn’t understand. I should get it translated before I sign it.”

  “Sure, whatever you want,” he said carelessly as he left the room. A minute later, he returned with a carafe. Coming back to the bed, he poured steaming coffee into a china cup, adding liberal amounts of cream and sugar, then put it on her tray, smiling down at her tenderly. “From now on, I’m going to take better care of you. Treat you like you deserve. Like a princess. Like a queen.”

  Looking up at him, Scarlett’s heart twisted with love.

  “Enjoy your breakfast, cara.” He cracked a sudden grin. “I’m going to take a shower. Feel free to join me if you’re feeling—” he lifted a teasing eyebrow “—dirty.”

  With a whistle, he turned away, dropping his towel to the floor. Scarlett’s lips parted at the delicious view of her husband’s muscular backside before he disappeared into the bathroom. It took several seconds before she was able to focus again.

  She looked down at the papers, thinking of everything she had to do today before the evening wedding. After weeks of procrastination, she still hadn’t figured out what to wear. She desperately wanted to look good at the formal event, to show her respect to Maria and the rest of Vin’s family. But she dreaded the pressure of scouring the chic designer shops of Rome. She always felt like a chubby bumpkin. The thought of also going to look for an English-speaking lawyer to translate and advise her felt like one unpleasant task too many.

  Besides, she was Vin’s wife, the mother of his child. For better or worse. If she truly believed she was his partner, why treat him like an enemy? She didn’t want to be suspicious. She wanted to trust him.

  So she would. End of story.

  Smiling to herself in relief, Scarlett signed the papers with a flourish, then enjoyed the delicious breakfast. She polished off the almond croissant at the exact moment she heard her baby starting to fuss in the nursery. She brought the baby back to their bedroom and was cuddling and nursing him in bed when Vin came back, wrapped in a white terry cloth robe, his dark hair wet, his black eyes smoldering.

  “Did you enjoy your breakfast, cara?”

  “It was amazing. Thank you so much.” She held up the signed papers. “I have these for you.”

  His eyes lit up with something dark and deep. He came forward. He gently took the papers from her. Seeing her signature, he kissed her on the temple and said in a low voice, “Thank you, Scarlett.”

  “No problem,” she said, smiling up at him. Then she sighed. “If only I could solve the problem of what to wear tonight so easily.”

  His own smile widened. “Cara, that is one problem I can solve for you.”

  With a single phone call, Vin solved everything. He arranged for a team of stylists to come to the villa. Beauty specialists appeared that afternoon to do her
nails, hair and makeup. As Nico rolled around on the soft pad of his baby gym nearby, cooing and batting at soft dangling toys, Scarlett sipped sparkling mineral water while clothing stylists presented thirty different gowns to choose from, each more exquisite than the last.

  Then she saw one that took her breath away, long and sapphire blue. When she tried it on, it made her figure look like an hourglass, especially with the lingerie underneath, a push-up bra more outrageous than she would have ever selected for herself. It made her breasts high and huge with sharp cleavage beneath the gown’s low-cut bodice. The hairdresser twisted her red hair in an elegant chignon, and the makeup artist made her lips deep red, darkening her eyes with kohl. When Scarlett finally saw herself in the mirror, she gasped. She almost didn’t recognize herself.

  “Bellissima,” her hairstylist said, kissing his fingertips expressively. Scarlett blushed.

  Vin had said she’d be treated like a princess, and she felt like one. She turned anxiously to Wilhelmina, who was now holding the baby. She’d become Scarlett’s trusted friend. “What do you think?”

  The housekeeper looked her over critically, then smiled. “Sugar, I think that husband of yours is likely to die of pride.”

  Scarlett prayed she was right, and that Vin didn’t think she looked like an ordinary girl playing dress-up, pretending to play the role of a glamorous, sexy, sophisticated woman.

  Kissing her baby’s cheeks, which were getting chubbier every day, Scarlett floated out of the master bedroom, into the hall, still trembling, wondering what Vin would say when he saw her. She paused at the top of the staircase as she heard low words from below.

  “Blaise Falkner...”

  The voices cut off sharply as Vin and his assistant saw her. But why would they be talking about that awful man?

  Her husband’s eyes widened as she came down the stairs, holding the handrail carefully so she didn’t trip on her four-inch, crystal-studded high heels. He met her at the bottom of the staircase.

  “You dazzle me,” he murmured too softly for his assistant to hear. Taking her hand, he whispered, “Forget the wedding. Let’s go back upstairs...”

  Her cheeks burned pleasantly, but she bit her lip. “Were you talking about Blaise Falkner?”

  Vin started to shake his head, but Ernest, his assistant, interjected, “We haven’t been able to track him since he left New York.”

  “Track him? What do you mean?”

  Vin glared at his assistant, then kissed the back of her hand. Scarlett shivered as she felt the hot press of his sensual lips against her skin. “It’s nothing to worry about. He’s probably just too embarrassed to show his face. Drowning his sorrows in a gutter.” He looked at her. “Scarlett. You are so beautiful.”

  Her blush deepened. “Thanks. Um. You look nice, too.”

  Her praise felt woefully inadequate. His black tuxedo jacket was tailored perfectly, showing off his amazing physique from his muscular shoulders to his taut waist. His dark eyes were intense in his handsome face with a jawline and cheekbones that would cut glass. But he wasn’t just superficially handsome. It was more than that. Some might think he was arrogant, but Scarlett alone knew his heart, his goodness, his love for his family. That was what she loved.

  Frowning, Vin tilted his head. “You just need one thing.”

  “What?”

  Reaching to a nearby table for a flat black velvet box, he drew out a large, dazzling diamond necklace. She gasped as she felt the cold weight of the diamonds clasped gently around her throat. Then he kissed her at the crook of her neck, and she felt a rush of heat. She whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Now we can go,” he said softly.

  They kissed their baby son good-night, leaving him happily cuddled in Wilhelmina’s arms, and went out into the cold night. Vin gently draped her white stole over her shoulders as they crossed their cobblestoned driveway to the waiting limousine. The gate opened on the street, and the driver, with two bodyguards traveling behind them, whisked them off to the grand palazzo.

  Maria and Luca’s evening winter wedding was sublimely beautiful, lit with candles and white flowers in the gilded receiving room of the palazzo. Giuseppe walked her down the aisle, tears shining on his face. Sitting nearby, Joanne cried, as well. Scarlett watched the young couple speak their vows and her heart felt overwhelmed with joy as she looked at her husband beside her and felt all the love around them.

  Afterward, they adjourned to the ballroom for a formal dinner. The young bride and groom sat at a table on a dais, with their immediate families on each side of them. That included Vin and Scarlett. She hugged the bride and groom, and then Giuseppe and Joanne. She listened to the speeches toasting the bride and groom, mostly in Italian, and tried to understand. She enjoyed the freedom to drink champagne.

  But the whole time, Scarlett was aware of her husband beside her, looking down at her with his darkly sensual gaze. He kept giving quick stolen kisses on her bare shoulder above the sweetheart neckline of her strapless blue gown. He kissed her on her cheek. On the lips. She leaned against him, reveling in his nearness. It was a beautiful wedding, but she could hardly wait to get home...

  “We’re going to miss you,” the bridegroom’s father, a wealthy businessman who owned this grand palazzo, called across the table to Vin halfway through the third course. “My son was secretly hoping your wife would give Maria some cooking lessons.”

  “Papà!” the groom protested.

  “Luca!” The bride tossed her head in her elegant white veil, pretending to pout. “But if I learn to cook, how would we support the restaurants? One must think of helping the economy!”

  But Scarlett frowned at Luca’s father. “What do you mean, you’ll miss us?” She looked at her husband with dismay. “Are you going on another business trip?”

  “I heard you’re moving to New York,” Luca’s father said. “In fact, I heard you’ve already rented out your villa here on long lease to some Hollywood actor and bought a brand-new duplex in New York for some obscene amount. I read it in the paper—was it fifty million dollars?”

  Scarlett relaxed, laughed. “I’m afraid you’ve heard incorrectly, Signor Farro. We are talking about New York, but we haven’t decided anything. We certainly haven’t rented out our...”

  Her voice trailed off as she saw Vin’s face. Ice entered her heart.

  “You wouldn’t do that,” she said in a small voice. “Not without talking to me. After everything I put into our home, you wouldn’t rent it out from underneath me...”

  Vin’s expression was closed. “The decision has already been made.”

  “By who?” Scarlett pulled away. “By you?”

  The smiles had fallen from the faces of the bride and groom. Their parents started to look anxious. Chic guests at nearby dinner tables turned to look as their voices rose.

  Vin set his jaw. “Yes, by me. You were being unreasonable.”

  Her lips parted in disbelief. “Unreasonable?”

  “I allowed you to stay in Rome—”

  “Allowed!” she cried.

  “—until Maria’s wedding. But I already made it clear. My headquarters is in New York. Tomorrow, we will pack a few suitcases and fly there. The rest of our things can be forwarded. It’s true. I have bought a brand-new penthouse close to my office, near good private schools for Nico.”

  Vin sat back, looking pleased with himself, as if he expected praise. Scarlett felt numb.

  “We already have a home, here in Rome,” she whispered.

  “You’ll like New York even better when we arrive tomorrow night.”

  “I’m not getting on a plane.”

  Vin’s expression changed to a glower. “You have to face your fears.”

  She hated his patronizing tone. “No, I don’t.”

  “You have no choice now. You—”

  “Children, children...” Vin’s father broke in, his weathered face anguished. “Scarlett, my dear one, I am sure my son only meant the best. But if you do not want
to leave Rome, he will not force you. He is a good man. Vincenzo, my son, you must tell her that...”

  Vin stood up so fast his chair fell to the floor of the dais. The noise of the crash echoed in the suddenly silent ballroom. His voice was cold as he looked at Giuseppe.

  “Stop calling me your son. I am not.”

  Giuseppe goggled at him. Joanne and Maria both drew back in shock.

  Vin’s lip curled. “You wondered why I ignored you for twenty years?” he said in a low voice. “Right before my mother died, when I asked her if I could live with you in Tuscany, she laughed in my face. She told me I was the result of a one-night stand with some musician in Rio. She lied to you, Giuseppe,” he said deliberately, almost cruelly, “so you’d give her money. And you paid her. Blindly. Just as you blindly loved me all those years.” He slowly looked to Joanne and Maria. “So do not presume to lecture me. You are not my family.” He turned to Scarlett, his eyes like ice. “And you will do what I say. You have no choice. You signed the agreement.”

  “Agreement?” She was still reeling from his revelation that Giuseppe was not his father. Then she realized what he was talking about, and a sick feeling rose inside her. “Those papers this morning—”

  He glanced at all the people in the ballroom, then spoke too quietly for them to hear. “I always intended to make you sign, Scarlett. Either before marriage or after.”

  The pre-nup he’d once threatened her with. The agreement that gave him the right to make all decisions about their baby’s life, and hers. The agreement that gave Vin full custody of Nico if he ever decided to divorce her. And she’d signed it.

  Scarlett’s world was spinning, crashing, on fire. Standing up from her chair, she stared at him in horror. Then, snatching her crystal-encrusted minaudière from the table, she turned away in her four-inch heels, ducking around the waiters who’d just come pouring into the ballroom with the next course. By the time she fled the ballroom, she was crying.