He obliged with a nod, pressing a thick glass into her hand, before raising his own. “To the launch of your therapy program worldwide.”
“To your astute help achieving it,” she said and clinked her glass with his.
It should be just this simple, thanks to his financial assistance on the project she’d poured long hours into. But Mario’s presence changed everything. It sullied her dream and left her too skittish to concentrate.
She simply couldn’t get around it. That left her one choice. Get rid of the problem or bail, and she sure didn’t want to run away again.
“I spoke briefly with Julian today,” she said. “He mentioned you might have hired an architect to work at the lodge.”
He frowned, staring into his half empty glass. “As of this point, I haven’t decided whether I should go with Godolphin’s firm.”
She bit her lower lip, biting back what she wanted to say. This was her problem. Not his. And yet to think that Mario Godolphin would have his name tied to any part of her program made her sick.
“I thought he was a close friend of yours,” she said, as if that was reason enough to hire him for the job.
“I’ve known him all my life, but he is a closer friend to Julian than to me.” His frown deepened. “Mario was a rival on the slopes and has proven to be a challenging businessman, branching out from his initial architectural firm.”
So there was a chance to oust him. “Are there other companies you’re considering?”
“Several, including the firm that built the lodge.”
“Not that you asked, but I’d suggest you stick with the same firm so the design is exact instead of similar,” she said, then dropped the subject before she said too much. “Have you any idea when the rest of the equipment will arrive? It’s imperative we get this done as quickly and efficiently as possible.”
“You’re that anxious to get away from me?”
“No, I...” She just wanted to put distance between herself and her attacker. Wanted desperately to slam the door on that dark moment in her past forever. “It’s complicated.”
He smiled and ran a hand up her arm, creating friction that hummed in her. “Want to talk about it?”
Her words thrown back at her. She shook her head, fighting tears of frustration. Revealing her past would solve nothing.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said. “I just want to get this job over and done with and go home.”
He crossed both arms over his chest and stared at her, the silence crackling between them for a long, uncomfortable moment. She looked away with a shiver, afraid he could read too much into her mind. That he could uncover her deepest secret.
“Is it me you’re bent on running away from?” he asked at last.
“No.” She knew as soon as his blue eyes narrowed that her quick reply had revealed too much.
“Then why? Tell me why you are so desperate to leave here.”
She pressed her fingers to her forehead, feeling the first tinge of a killing headache. Wasn’t her heart hurting too much for her body to tolerate more?
“Drop it, Luciano.”
“No. You’re not leaving this room until you tell me what has upset you.”
She peered at his resolute features and thought marble statues didn’t look as hard or inflexible. “You can’t lock me up.”
“Want to bet?”
Not on her life. “You’re being totally unreasonable.”
One dark eyebrow arched. “You have that desperate look of a woman ready to hide from the world.”
“I do not.”
“I’m not blind,” he said. “What are you trying to hide from?”
Tears threatened again, but she managed to hold them back. She wouldn’t cry. Wouldn’t give Godolphin the satisfaction of terrorizing her waking moments as well.
“Bella,” Luciano murmured as he gathered her into his embrace, her weary resistance failing to deter him. “You can tell me anything. You know this.”
“Not this time. Please.”
The man who’d destroyed her innocence was his friend and business associate. He was here at la Duchi Royal, waiting to hear if he’d been chosen for the job. She couldn’t involve Luciano in the mess that was her personal life.
And just admitting that loosed her tears. They came hot and miserably fast, burning trails of makeup down her cheeks that his tailored shirt soaked up.
“What happened? You must tell me that much,” he insisted, keeping her encased within his arms, clearly not about to give up.
What was the use in holding her silence? He was right. She could tell him that much.
She sucked in a shaky breath and held it, willing the chills to stop yet knowing nothing would ever truly purge her of the hell she’d endured.
There was only one way to get through this. Tell the truth.
One more shaky inhalation and she blurted out, “I was raped.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
LUC GRABBED HER forearms and held her in front of him, stunned—no, furious this horrible thing had happened to her. Rape. It was an ugly word depicting an abhorrent act. “When?”
“Years ago,” she said.
“How many years?” he persisted.
She pinched her eyes shut and held her breath for several counts he was sure. “Seven.”
“Seven?” The same year...as the last World Cup. Around the same time as his and Julian’s accident. “Where did this happen, Caprice? How?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Tell me,” he demanded.
Tears stung her eyes and she tried to wrench free, but he wasn’t deterred, holding her close. “If you must know, it was a date gone horribly wrong at the World Cup. He was convinced I’d agreed to go out with him for sex, and turned deaf ears when I told him no. The next thing I knew he dragged me into an equipment storeroom and took what he wanted.”
“You should have told me.”
A reddish stain streaked up her neck and dotted her checks. “I couldn’t come to you. You’d rejected me earlier that night.”
He banged a fist on the door, furious he’d played a part in her turning to another and bitten with guilt that she’d thought her only recourse to take was to run away. “Did you at least summon the authorities?”
“And tell them what? Do you think they would believe me or assume I’d simply drank too much and changed my mind about having a quickie because I assure you that is exactly what he would have claimed,” she said, her body trembling and her teary eyes stark with fear.
“So you just gave up?” he asked, ravenous for revenge and sickening fury eating at his insides.
“I was shamed beyond belief. And so terrified he’d come back and do it again,” she said, tears streaming down her face, shoulders slumping. “That’s why I left that night without saying a word to anyone.”
“Mio Dio!” He stalked the perimeter of his office, furious this happened to her, disgusted that her attacker had never been brought to justice. That was something he intended to change. “Who the hell is he?”
“Why do you care? You dismissed me that night, wanting nothing more to do with me,” she snapped back.
He slashed a hand through the air and swore again. “I turned you away because of that kiss. You touched something in me that I refused to explore further. My life was in such a turmoil then.”
She blinked, eyes bright with moisture that he wanted to wipe away. Wipe away all her hurts, but he couldn’t. “I wish I would have known that then. Wish I wouldn’t have attempted to prove I was desirable to a man.”
“As do I.” He drove his fingers through his hair and swore, feeling the weight of guilt bear down on him again. “We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it.”
�
�A saying my father repeated often,” she said, shaking her head, wide gaze lifting to his again. “I certainly learned the hard way about blindly trusting a man.”
He took her cold hands in his, hating the shiver that coursed through her, hating her attacker more with each breath. “Bella, tell me his name. Let me settle this for you.”
She shook her head violently. “It doesn’t matter.”
He gave her one terse shake. “It matters to me. Is there a connection between your attack and your aversion to remaining here?”
Her gaze lowered, her skin paling. “There isn’t one.”
He swore roundly again. “I don’t believe you. You have seen him here, perhaps have spoken with him. Is he a guest? Employee? Someone who lives in the village? Tell me.”
“Stop it, Luciano. What happened was in the past. Let it go.”
His palms cupped her face, holding her still, as he kissed the tears from her cheeks. “I will not give up until you tell me his name.”
Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. “It was Mario.”
“Mario Godolphin?” he asked, and at her nod, he dropped his hold on her, fingers bunched into fists, his rage towering higher than the mountains. “I’ll kill him.”
“No!” She gripped his wrists, complexion growing deathly pale. “Please, Luciano, I want that entire ugly night to remain forgotten.”
“Why? You’ve never forgotten it,” he said. “Even if you had, Mario laid his filthy hands on you. He hurt you. Now he must pay for those actions.”
She tipped her head back and growled low in her throat. “It is his word against mine and I refuse to go into battle with a man who will deliberately make me look like I pursued him,” she said, hysteria rising in her voice. “That publicity is too humiliating to face, let alone endure.”
He combed his fingers though his hair and swore, sickened that he’d failed another person he cared about. If there was a chance he could make this right for her... If he could undo a wrong and bring someone to justice, he damned well would.
“You can’t let him get away with this violation,” he said.
“It is my choice to make,” she said, voice cracking.
Had she ever felt this raw and exposed and rigorously furious? No, not even after the rape, after she’d fled home to Colorado, after she’d gone through weeks of worry until she was certain she wasn’t pregnant.
This time she wasn’t just fighting for her sanity and career. She was fighting for her independence, even though that hard-won gem might sever her from Luciano forever. But the business deal she struck with him and their affair would end soon anyway. She had to take this stand.
“Don’t you see that if I deny anything happened between us, it diminishes Mario’s hold over me?” she asked, desperate for him to understand her fears and phobias. “It gives me the power to choose.”
He stared at her a long hard moment before he stalked to the window and stood with his broad back to her, which for all the world seemed an impenetrable wall. She resisted the impulse to cross to him and wrap her arms around his waist.
“What can I do to make this right for you?” he asked.
If only he could... “I need to know if Mario’s firm is vital to la Duchi Royal.”
He pulled a dark face. “It is true he’s been the exclusive architect on all my projects.”
She pressed a hand to her queasy stomach, her blood chilling. “He’ll continue working with you then, right here.”
“No. I am done with him.”
Bubbles of panic popped inside her. “But if you sever ties with Mario now, he’ll know I told you what happened.”
“Who cares what he thinks?” he asked.
“I do and so should you. Think what he will do if you break your contract with him,” she said. “There are legalities to face, and what about the ensuing publicity?”
“Mario won’t be so foolish as to engage in a legal battle with me,” he said.
She hugged herself but still couldn’t stop her trembling. “What if you’re wrong? What if he retaliates and spreads vicious lies about me? I can’t have that black mark attached to my name or my program.”
“I respect your decision to keep silent about this, but your way of dealing with it is to live in denial—and whilst that is your choice, I intend to take the direct and final approach.” He snagged the phone off his desk. “Get legal on the phone now.”
Panic clawed at her throat. “If you go through with this now, I’ll be the one who’ll end up with the tainted reputation.”
“I won’t allow that to happen.” He slashed the air with his hand, features hard and cold. He spoke into the receiver. “Begin proceedings today to cancel all contracts with Mario Godolphin in all industries and business.” He paused, listening for a response. “Yes, every single one of them, and see that he’s barred from setting foot at this lodge.”
He soundlessly laid the receiver in the cradle, but a black silence roared in the room.
She pressed her palms to her temples, chest heaving, her control close to snapping like a mighty pine under the force of an avalanche. “I’ve worked hard all of my life to ensure I had a clean name. Divulging the past now will ruin that. They’ll believe every lie he tells.”
He chewed out a curse, muscle thrumming madly in his lean cheek, eyes narrowed to angry slits. “And what if letting him get away with this leads him to force himself on another woman?”
She covered her face with her palms, feeling sick inside. Trapped. “I would never want this to happen to any woman.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “Severing all ties with Godolphin is the right thing for me to do. You must choose what you feel is the right thing to do for yourself. But, bella, Mario is the guilty party in this. He should be held accountable for harming you.”
She sighed, so very tired of running, hiding, of closeting her emotions so they wouldn’t leave her vulnerable to making the same mistake again. “Okay,” she said at last. “I’ll consider it, after my contract is completed.”
“Good.”
He crossed to an elaborate liquor cabinet, but instead of fixing a drink, he stood there like a statue. She wondered what to do. If there was anything she could or should do.
Hesitantly, she crossed to him and wrapped her arms around his stiff frame, desperate to feel his strength. To hide from reality if just a little while longer.
He remained cold and hard as steel for less than a heartbeat in her embrace. Then he heaved a sigh, grasped her wrists to stay her and turned to embrace her so tightly she feared she might break. She grabbed a breath, then another and held it tightly as his arms enveloped her, holding her close, his head finding a place on her shoulder to rest, his face millimeters from her neck with his breath so intensely hot that her chills finally, finally eased.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last.
“Why? You’ve done nothing wrong,” he said. “You’re the one wronged by me and an old friend, damn his soul.”
“It was partly my fault. I knew better, but I did it anyway,” she said. “Let it go, Luciano. Retaliation isn’t the answer.”
“This is not your decision to make.”
Panic stabbed through her like fallen icicles piercing the snow. “Isn’t it? Your name is golden. It can withstand bad press. Mine can’t, not when I’m so close to launching my program worldwide.”
He fisted his hands at his sides, jaw rigid. “I can’t let this go. He’s hurt you because I failed you. A revelation of this scope could protect innocents, or at the very least shine light on his crime. And you are tied to me through our mutual contract. If he besmears our names, my attorneys will have him tied up in legalities in an hour or less.”
She grabbed a breath, frustration pinching her soul, wanting this lifted from her conscience. He was right a
nd she hated him for it. She wasn’t selfish. The truth could protect women from Mario, but the consequences of having everyone know her own personal nightmare scared her to death.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face this,” she said honestly.
“You aren’t,” he said, stepping closer, his strong arms coming around her. “Not alone. I’ll be with you. Yes, there will be gossip tossed about, but I promise it will not have any ill effect on your lodge.”
She rested her forehead on his chest, but his heat couldn’t thaw the deep chill invading her soul. “How can you possibly promise that?” she asked, her deep fears sleeping just under the surface.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, her eyes, and nuzzled her head up to brush his lips over hers once, twice. “We will marry. He wouldn’t dare sully your name then.”
“What?” she squeaked, too stunned to make sense of his out-of-the-blue proposal. “You don’t love me.”
“Love,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Our marriage would be a contract. You’d be under my protection with full access to a battery of la Duchi attorneys.”
He was offering another business arrangement, only this one with sex. It certainly wasn’t a marriage and wasn’t for her, simply because love wasn’t involved and never would be, at least not mutually. His heart would never be hers because he’d given it to his wife long ago, and she had taken it with her to her grave.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“I failed to protect you the first time.”
“I wasn’t yours to protect,” she said.
Not that his reasons or rationale mattered. There wouldn’t be a sham marriage for her. She would have to be crazy or desperate or both to put herself through an emotional hell that would take her years to recover from. If she ever recovered.
“Bella, be reasonable.”
“No! I refuse to marry under those circumstances,” she said and headed for the door and fresh air. Freedom.
She would rather be alone and in control of her life than enter into a marriage of convenience.
Bound by the Italian's Contract Page 12
