Protecting His Defiant Innocent

by Michelle Smart

  She pulled a face. ‘It’s corporate law.’

  After a few moments, Felipe said quietly, ‘You don’t have to stay at Pieta’s firm.’

  She glanced up at him.

  ‘You don’t enjoy it there.’ It wasn’t a question.

  ‘It doesn’t matter if I enjoy it or not. I’m committed.’ She found corporate law as dull as dirty dishwater.

  ‘You committed to working at Pieta’s firm because you wanted to get closer to him.’

  ‘What, and now he’s dead I should abandon that commitment?’

  ‘Did he think you would stay with him once you passed your bar exam?’

  ‘No. He knew human rights was my long-term goal.’

  ‘Did he try and talk you out of joining his firm and encourage you to go to a firm that specialised in human rights?’

  She thought about it. ‘Not really. It doesn’t matter where I do my traineeship.’

  ‘So he knew you joined his firm for him?’

  ‘We never spoke of it in such terms but, yes, I suppose he must have known.’ She remembered Pieta’s genuine delight when she’d asked to do her traineeship with him. She remembered her disappointment when he’d put her under the wing of another senior lawyer and his explanation that she would need consistency while she did her traineeship. With all the travelling he did for his foundation he couldn’t provide that consistency for her but was glad to be her mentor.

  ‘So if he knew you were there for him, do you think he would think less of you if you were to move on now he’s no longer here?’

  ‘I can’t think of this right now. It feels too disloyal.’

  ‘All I’m suggesting is you think about it. It wouldn’t be disloyal. Pieta would understand, I am certain of it. He wouldn’t want you to waste two years working somewhere that didn’t fulfil you.’

  ‘Do not presume to tell me what my brother would have thought,’ she snapped. ‘If I, his own sister, wasn’t privy to his private thoughts then I’m as sure as hell you wouldn’t have been either.’

  ‘Don’t be so defensive. I’m not presuming anything.’ He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  Francesca sighed and rested her head in the crook of his arm, her sudden burst of guilty anger soothed by his touch. She mustn’t allow herself to get used to it. ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s something I need to think about. And I will. There’s a lot for me to consider. I’ll probably have to go to Rome to practise if I want to make a success of it so if I were to make the change now then it would be silly not to go to Rome for my traineeship too.’

  ‘You don’t like Rome?’

  ‘I love Rome, but it’s a four-hour drive. I’m not like you. I’m happy to go away for a week or two but I always like coming home. I’ve never lived away from my family before. I thought I had another two years to get used to the idea.’

  ‘Get Daniele to buy you a jet. That will make the distance seem closer.’

  She laughed. ‘He probably would if I asked nicely. There’s a lot to think about—finding a firm to take me on, finding a place to live and all the small things that come with it. I will do it, though, whether now or when I’ve qualified for the bar. I’ve not worked so hard all my life to let it go to waste.’

  He tilted her chin up and kissed her. ‘Let’s go back to the castello and I’ll help clear your mind so you can think properly.’

  ‘And how do you intend to do that?’

  His hand found her bottom and squeezed it. ‘I’m sure I can think of a few ways.’

  * * *

  Felipe sat on the Gothic armchair, watching Francesca get ready for their last meal in the castello.

  He’d never watched a woman dress before. And the woman doing the dressing was determined to put on a show.

  They’d showered together and then he’d donned his suit while she had sat at the dressing table with a towel around herself and blow dried her hair.

  He’d watched her moisturise her face and then skilfully apply her make-up, which to his mind did nothing but enhance the natural beauty she’d been blessed with. Then came the jewellery, a gold choker with a black sapphire that rested at the base of her slender neck, and matching earrings.

  And then she had dressed.

  First went on the underwear, functional and black, nothing in the least erotic about them, but...the way she slid the panties up her legs and thighs...

  Dios, it was enough to raise his blood pressure to alarming levels.

  Then she’d stared at him with challenge in her eyes.

  She’d bet him he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself until after their meal.

  ‘You’re playing dirty,’ he said when she cupped her breasts to make sure they were perfectly encased in her strapless bra.

  She flashed a wicked smile and then turned her back to him, bending over seductively to straighten her high black shoes before sliding her feet into them.

  He smothered a groan.

  Finally, she took the black dress off the hanger and slowly stepped into it.

  When she turned round to face him a smile played on her lips. ‘So, Señor Lorenzi, are you ready to escort me to dinner?’

  Felipe swallowed back the lump in his throat that was as hard as the ache straining between his legs.

  She’d never looked more beautiful. Or sexy. Her dress just begged to be ripped off, and she knew it. Strapless, like her bra, her cleavage sitting like ripe peaches, it was diagonally slashed, one side falling to her knee, the other to the top of her thigh.

  She had done all this for him.

  He cleared his throat.

  Never mind keeping his hands off her until after their meal, he had no idea how he was going to walk away from her permanently.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THEY ATE IN the castello’s armoury, seated at the end of a polished oak table that could comfortably seat fifty people. Serena, the woman who managed the castello and was delighted to have guests in, had turned the enormous room with its frescoed ceiling, checked flooring and walls lined with bronzes and weaponry into a romantic fool’s dream.

  The chef had surpassed himself too. They’d been served an appetiser of beef carpaccio, followed by an aubergine tortellini. Their main course had been an exquisitely cooked boneless duck thigh in a berry and red wine sauce. Now they were making their way through their coffee and amaretto semi-freddo.

  Francesca was thrilled with it all. The food had been dreamy, the service discreet. A fitting finale, she thought, to what had been the best few days of her life.

  Tomorrow they would return to Caballeros then stay the night in their hotel in Aguadilla. On Sunday morning they would go their separate ways...

  She didn’t want to think of that. If she blanked it out she could pretend there wasn’t a clock frantically counting down the seconds until they had to say goodbye.

  She peppered Felipe with questions about the music he liked and the places he’d been, asked for stories of his childhood escapades, drinking in his answers, committing them to memory because all too soon that would be all she had left of him. In return she regaled him with tales of summer holidays here in the castello and its long notorious history.

  ‘How did you find the time to learn so much about it when you were always studying so hard?’ he asked admiringly. He took the last bite of his semi-freddo, placed his spoon on the plate and pushed it to one side.

  ‘Papa knew far more than me. He would tell me bedtime stories about the castello and our ancestors—some of them were really bloodthirsty.’ She remembered the old tales with glee, not just the stories themselves but those happy times with her father. ‘It was hard for him watching it fall into such disrepair but he was ill for a long time. He spent as much of the income as he could on maintaining it but the priori
ty was paying for full-time nursing care for him.’ Her father had had motor neurone disease, which had gradually worsened through the years until in the months before he’d died he’d become immobile. It had been hard on all of them to see the strong man who had loved and raised them slowly disintegrate. Of all of them, she thought Daniele had suffered the most. She’d spent a lot of time with her father and when he’d died she’d had peace and acceptance as well as pain in her heart. Daniele’s relationship with him had been difficult. He travelled even more than Pieta had and had rarely been there in those last few months. She didn’t think he’d found either peace or acceptance.

  ‘Was your father’s illness the reason you chose to study in Pisa rather than further afield?’ he asked, swirling Chianti in his wineglass.

  ‘It was part of the reason but I think even if he hadn’t been ill I would have stayed. I love my family. I wanted my independence but I wasn’t ready to cut the apron strings completely. Moving into Daniele’s apartment gave me the best of both worlds. It meant I could study and lead an independent life but be close enough that I could see my parents whenever I wanted and be there if they needed me.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘And now I take stock and decide whether to make the move to Rome now or in two years.’ She breathed deeply then admitted, ‘I’m leaning towards doing it now. You were right earlier that Pieta wouldn’t want me to spend the next two years unhappy and we both know life’s too short. Mamma has Aunt Rachele living with her so she won’t be alone.’

  Felipe swirled his glass some more, nodding slowly. She recognised the expression. She’d learned to read all the expressions on his handsome face and knew this one meant he was thinking of something. She wished they had the time for her to learn everything about him.

  ‘I can help you out with the living arrangements,’ he said eventually.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your surprise that I don’t own my own home has got me thinking that it’s time I invested my money. My life is always so busy I never think long term other than with the business and it’s time to change that. I’ll start by buying a house in Rome and when you’re ready, you can move into it.’

  His words were so unexpected that she gaped at him.

  ‘Do I get a discount on the rent?’ she asked cheekily when she’d regathered her wits. She must not read anything into his offer. She couldn’t. Assumptions were dangerous.

  That didn’t stop her heart from setting off at a trot and for hope to start bashing at her chest.

  ‘I wouldn’t ask my lover to pay rent.’

  She cleared her throat, the trot turning to a full-blown canter. ‘Your lover? Does this mean...?’

  His eyes holding hers steadily, he took a drink of his wine. ‘I’m not ready to say goodbye. Are you?’

  The ticking countdown in her head that had been beating like a drum in her ears suddenly exploded inside her, but instead of the misery she’d been dreading, unremitting joy burst through. All the dreams that had been building but which she’d shoved away from her mind, too scared to look at them, sprang free.

  Her and Felipe. Together.

  He wanted it too!

  He didn’t want to say goodbye either.

  Was it possible, could it be possible, that he’d fallen in love with her as she had fallen in love with him...?

  Love?

  Oh, Dio, Dio, Dio.

  Love?

  Lightness filled her.

  The truth had been staring her in the face for days.

  Somehow, in this crazy week, she had fallen irrevocably in love with Felipe Lorenzi, and admitting it to herself was as heady and thrilling as it was terrifying.

  She loved him.

  Francesca swallowed, managing to produce a nod that could have been a shake of her head. ‘I’m not ready to say goodbye either,’ she said, her chest rising and falling so rapidly the words fought for release.

  His eyes gleamed. ‘Then a house in Rome is the perfect solution for us. An investment for me and a home for you.’

  She loved the way us rolled off his tongue, how natural and right it sounded.

  Us. Them. Together.

  He drained his wine. ‘Once I’ve bought it I’ll give you the money to decorate and furnish it to your tastes.’

  Her mind immediately careered to the land of soft furnishings and huge carved beds. ‘We can have a bedroom like my one here,’ she said, thinking aloud, beaming her delight.

  He refilled his glass and topped hers up with it. ‘That will be up to you. You’ll be the one living in it.’

  She stared at him blankly, not understanding. ‘Just me? What about you?’

  ‘I never know from one week to the next where I’m going to be but I’ll visit whenever I can.’ Another gleam flashed in his eyes. ‘I will be there to keep the bed warm when time allows, so make sure it’s a big one.’

  Visit?

  When time allows?

  The unfettered dreams that had been let off the leash came to a crashing halt.

  ‘Right...’ She nodded slowly, trying hard not to leap to conclusions, not to panic, to get straight the basic facts of what he was offering and what he wanted from her. ‘So I’ll be living in the house alone?’

  He nodded. ‘Mostly.’

  ‘How often would we see each other? Weekly? Monthly?’

  ‘You know I’m not in a position to answer that. You know the life I lead. If we weren’t returning to Caballeros tomorrow I’d be back in the Middle East already. We’ll see each other whenever I can.’

  She swallowed before asking the question she most needed the answer to, trying to affect nonchalance. ‘What kind of commitment will you want from me?’

  His brows drew together before a wide smile broke over his face. ‘We won’t be in a relationship, querida. Don’t worry, you’ll still have your independence.’

  His words were like a slap in the face.

  That he seemed so pleased with himself only made it worse.

  Sharp pain squeezed its way through at the crushing realisation she had got everything wrong.

  She’d misread him entirely.

  ‘It sounds like the kind of arrangement a man makes with his mistress,’ she said slowly, trying to keep a hold of her wildly veering emotions, clamping on the nausea roiling violently in her belly.

  ‘Mistress?’ He made it sound as if he’d never heard of the word. ‘A mistress is a woman kept by a married a man. I’m not married and I won’t be keeping you. I’ll have an investment, you’ll have a home to live in and your independence, and we’ll be able to see each other. It’s the perfect solution.’

  ‘No rent. No commitment. Sex whenever you fancy it. I’d be a woman kept for your convenience.’

  He stared at her for too long. His dark eyes narrowed and glinted dangerously. ‘That is not how it is.’

  ‘That’s what it sounds like.’

  He’d made love to her like she meant something to him, he’d listened to her, he’d comforted her...and now all he wanted from her was sexual release when he could fit her in his schedule?

  ‘You allow Daniele to help you. There is no difference.’

  ‘There’s every difference. He’s my brother.’ She pushed her chair back, the nausea growing. Bile had lodged in her throat. ‘He charges me minimal rent because he loves me. He would let me have it for nothing.’

  ‘I’m offering you a whole house for nothing.’

  ‘No, not for nothing.’ Now on her feet, legs shaking, Francesca jutted her chin in the air, no longer able to feign nonchalance. ‘I thank you for your kind offer but I can’t accept. I will not be your whore.’

  And as she spoke, she looked down at what she was wearing and felt a wave of self-loathing.

  She’d dressed l
ike this to tantalise and torment him, had spent most of their meal imagining him peeling it off.

  Wearing it like this now made her feel like a whore as much as his words did.

  ‘My whore?’ He shook his head as if clearing his ears of water, distaste etched on angry his face. ‘How can you say such a thing? I thought you’d be pleased.’

  Pulling the top of her dress up so it covered her cleavage and made it the respectable dress it should have been, she spat, ‘Pleased to be your concubine? Pleased to be beholden to you, pleased to have you flit in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient to you? How can I be pleased in a relationship that gives you all the power and when you won’t even call it a relationship? Have you not learned anything about me?’ She tugged the skirt of the dress down so the slash didn’t ride so high.

  Felipe was breathing heavily, staring at her with eyes that had turned to steel. Any tenderness that had been on his face earlier had been wiped away.

  ‘You insult me,’ he said, putting the palms of his hands on the tables and getting slowly to his feet. ‘I have tried to help you. I have offered you more than I have ever offered anyone and you throw it back in my face.’

  ‘I’ve insulted you?’ she asked, outrage sweeping through her misery. ‘You’ve just insulted everything we’ve shared together. You’ve cheapened it and you’ve cheapened me.’

  ‘No, you’ve done that. I thought we understood each other but clearly I was wrong. I’ve offered you all I can. I will not be offering more. I live my life on my terms, querida. I’ve never lied to you. You know I don’t have space in my life for anything permanent and you’ve told me enough times that you’re not ready for anything permanent until you’re established in your career. Or was that a lie?’

  She tugged a weighty earring off her throbbing earlobe and threw it on the table, wishing she could throw it in his face. It hit her wineglass with such force it knocked it over, smashing it, the remnants of her wine spilling onto the oak.

  She barely noticed.

  ‘No, it wasn’t a lie but my perspective’s changed. I want to be happy and to feel life, and you make me feel so much.’ She gazed at him, silently pleading for him to see the truth; that she loved him and that if he could only bring himself to give something of himself to her, something they could build on, something she could cling onto with hope in her heart, then her answer would be different. ‘Having a relationship doesn’t have to compromise my future, I see that now, but I still want a relationship of equals. What you’re suggesting for us gives you all the power. I’d be at your mercy for the roof over my head. I can’t be happy with a one-sided arrangement where the only commitment I’d get from you is that there will be no commitment. I want more than to be your concubine, Felipe. I want...’