The sunlight streaming through the window Stefano had turned away from heated his back, and his entire body burned. How many times had he floated a cash payment to his mother to get her out of his life, and to protect his Nonno from the pain of dealing with her? But Viviana blew through money faster than a sonic jet, which was why his father had been caught embezzling money from Durante Enterprises. Nonno had fired his son, but two days later Gregorio had been slammed with the news that Edmondo had died in a fiery crash.
A fact Viviana used as a bargaining chip for years. “Nothing’s ever short term with you. Nor is it a loan, it’s a handout.” He rubbed his temples with his thumb pads. “You’ll use it all to nab another rich husband, spend his money until he’s sick of being used—or dies—then you’ll be back asking for more.”
She clutched his arm and her fire red nails dug into his skin. “I’m desperate. Please help me.”
Stefano looked down at her blue-veined hand and back into her tear-streaked face. She’d never been there for him after his father died. She’d never been there for him through all the bumps and scrapes and breaks during his childhood. She’d never once cared about what was important to him.
He broke their contact. “Viviana, I’m through bailing you out. Go. If I see your stiletto heels in this villa again, I’ll call the polizia and have you arrested for trespassing.”
“But I’m your mother.”
“No, you never did a thing for me other than bring me into the world. That’s not good enough. It sure as hell doesn’t give you a permanent credit card to access my bank balance.”
Viviana narrowed her eyes, then pressed her crimson lips together into a paper-thin line. After a brief, tension-filled pause, she spat at his feet. “You’re as useless to me as your father and an ungrateful bastardo. The only reason you’re alive is because I tricked your idiotic father into getting me pregnant.”
His vision clouded and adrenaline rushed through his body. Every extremity tingled with electrical shocks. He wanted to punch something. Someone. Anything. Instead he inhaled a deep breath, drawing in the lingering scent of Roxy’s perfume. He waited until his brain no longer zinged with the desire to haul Viviana out of his office by her fake blonde hair.
“So now will you give me the money I need?” Viviana demanded, tapping her foot on the hardwood floor.
He looked at her, then shook his head. He thought of the sacrifice Roxy had made to stay with their son—giving up her life in the United States rather than lose custody to him. She’d done everything to guarantee he had a quality relationship with Matthew in spite of Stefano’s scheme. Not only that, but she’d stood by his side, and supported him during a difficult business transaction. He’d been a fool to walk away from her, but perhaps things could be different now that they’d reached a new understanding.
“You’re only a name on my birth certificate, Viviana. I don’t owe you a damn thing,” he said. “Get out before I make good on my threat to call the polizia.”
* * *
During the two and half weeks after Stefano had received Anderson’s personal guarantee that the merger would go forward, Roxy continued to cling to the hope that had flowered in her heart. True to his word, Stefano had been exactly the kind of man she needed after that earth shattering, sexy and emotional weekend in Naples.
Kind. Compassionate. Trusting.
Loving.
Midmorning sunlight streamed through the windows and illuminated the crating materials that would house her sculpture while an expert crew transported Fireworks in Sand to Naples.
Roxy stepped back from her commissioned piece, then removed her goggles. One more pass with her sander followed by a hand buff and her vision for the Italian Carrara marble would be polished to perfection. Soon she’d be on her own and working on her commission for Mountain Brook along with the multitude of other requests she’d garnered during the gala in Naples.
She moved to the other side of the room and picked up a sheaf of papers from a table that she’d loosely called a desk. Thumbing through them, she practically crowed with happiness. Twelve commissions had come her way in less than five days after the first publicity releases. They had arrived with healthy fifty percent up-front payments along with a guaranteed final payment after she completed the works.
Because of Stefano’s commission, and his recommendations.
Her insides did a little happy dance. If anyone had ever told her that one of her pieces would grace an Italian conglomerate’s opulent entrance hall, she’d have laughed. Hell, she might have snorted milk through her nose. Pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, her masterpiece—Stefano’s praise, not hers—would be the centerpiece of the building. Already the company’s publicity department had released early information about the event to honor the building’s opening along with the merger.
But first she wanted to complete her other project. Something she hoped would show Stefano how much she cared about their family no matter what happened after Gregorio died. But before she continued working on the soapstone sculpture, her cell phone buzzed in her back pocket.
She pulled it out, and quickly read the text from her friend Maura. All the happiness that had been floating through her congealed into dread and dropped into the pit of her stomach
She’d only given her new number to Maura, trusting her friend. Good thing. Because the money they’d given Doug to shut up the first time wasn’t enough. And according to Maura, her brother was on the prowl for more.
Her heart racing, Roxy texted Maura back with instructions to keep her informed about her brother’s whereabouts and plans, then hurried out of her studio and quickly cleaned up. While dressing in her shorts and T-shirt, she knew she’d have to get Stefano involved again, though the knowledge brought bile into her throat.
As she made her way to Stefano’s office at the opposite end of the villa, she heard a woman scream in Italian as she rounded the end of the hallway leading to the foyer. Roxy rocked back on her heels and gaped.
Nonno’s butler was pulling a tall, elegant, extremely potty-mouthed woman toward the front doors. Her heart in her throat, Roxy stepped toward them, wanting to stop the madness. Carlotta waved at her from the other side of the foyer, shaking her head, gesturing at Roxy to come closer.
Roxy crossed the floor to stand in front of Carlotta. “Who is that?” she asked.
Carlotta shook her head. “No one importante. I’m glad Gregorio’s outside with Elena and the boys, or he might have had a setback at the sight of that puttana. That whore.”
Roxy’s heart thudded against her sternum. The last woman who’d come close to being a whore in Stefano’s life had been Filomena. And there’d been plenty of conniving women who had tried to trap Stefano into loveless marriages with false claims of paternity. But this woman looked old enough to be Stefano’s mother.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered. “It’s his mother.”
“Esattamente. Viviana,” Carlotta agreed grimly. “But Stefano’s not listening to that she-devil anymore. She won’t get another dime from him.”
Her heart froze, then pounded even harder. So here was the family member Stefano had been paying off for years. His own mother had been milking him for lord knew how many hundreds of thousands of dollars. No wonder he didn’t trust women to love him for who he was instead of what he had to give them.
“Thank goodness.” Roxy tucked her concerns about her brother’s threats aside, wanting only to check on Stefano. “You need to leave now.” And she had to talk to Stefano about anything other than Doug’s blackmail demands.
Viviana wrenched out of the butler’s grip and clippety-clicked across the tiles to stand toe-to-toe with Roxy. “You’re the Americana wife that tricked my son into marriage. No wonder he won’t give me the money I deserve. How much have you taken him for?” she asked derisively.
Roxy raised her chin ever so slightly and stared at the woman without flinching. “I didn’t invent a pregnancy to lure Stefano into marryi
ng me. Neither did I use our son to manipulate Stefano into a loveless marriage.” She settled her hands on her hips when she really wanted to punch the woman smack dab in her arrogant nose. “We got married for all the right reasons, especially where Matthew is concerned. There’s no way I’ll ever let anyone use my husband the way you have, Viviana.”
Viviana’s mouth gaped like a trout gasping for water on dry land. “You’re nothing but an interloper,” she said.
“I’m here because Stefano wants me here.” Albeit his original motivation hadn’t been stellar, she believed he cared more than he was willing to admit. Roxy pointed at Viviana. “But you’re not welcome at all.”
She sidestepped Stefano’s mother, and heard Viviana shouting as the family’s butler successfully threw the woman out of the villa and slammed the door shut.
As the sound reverberated through the villa. A niggle of doubt snaked along her spine, chilling her. What if Stefano thought she was in collusion with Doug? Roxy shoved down her desperation to ask Stefano for help with her brother. She’d take care of this situation herself.
Her pulse thudded in her ears, slowing down until she could hear every cell in her body tense. No way would she put Stefano in the position of being used by anyone ever again, even if it meant draining her bank account to keep Doug out of their lives. Right now all she cared about was finding a way to comfort Stefano. Because she’d done something super ridiculous and had fallen madly in love with Stefano all over again. And the idea of him dealing with a selfish, vain woman who only cared about the bottom line instead of her child brought out something fierce inside her.
No one would ever mess with her man again.
Roxy turned to Carlotta. “I’m going to take Stefano’s mind off of this situation.”
Carlotta smiled. “He’s a lucky man. You go, and I’ll take care of the bambino when he comes inside.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Roxy said. “Bring Matthew to the office after he’s done playing, and we’ll take it from there.” Spending time together as a family that really cared about each other would go a long way to soothing Stefano.
Moments later, Roxy stood in Stefano’s doorway and looked at her tall, handsome husband’s back. Those broad shoulders of his had never looked stiffer, and the muscles in the back of his neck corded into knots.
Tension emanated from Stefano. It was as if she could feel his anger, and mold it into a power ball of mass destruction. Gingerly, she tiptoed into the room in her converse shoes and crossed the floor until she reached him.
“What brings you here so early?” he asked.
“I reached a stopping point, and then I heard screaming.”
“Ah, you’ve met Viviana?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. “You want to talk about it?”
He drew in a deep breath. “It’s over. That’s all that matters.” Stefano placed his hands on top of hers. “You sure you’re finished for the day?”
The muscles in his back loosened. “Yes.” She rested her head on it, loving the feel of the expensive dress shirt’s silky, smooth material. And loving even more how she heard Stefano’s heart rate go from super freak fast to regular guy normal. “I thought I’d come by and distract you from yours.”
“Perfect timing.”
“I’ll say.” He turned around and she stood in his embrace, gazing into his blue-green eyes. “I know Viviana’s certainly no candidate for Mother of the Year,” she said. “But then neither is mine.” And her brother had failed her miserably, but she kept that tidbit to herself.
He ghosted his fingers down her cheek, flicked off a speck of sandstone. “Thank god we have each other.”
“Yes, that’s what matters.” She caressed his brow and the lines furrowing it relaxed. “What did Viviana want?”
“Money, as usual.”
Again, Roxy stifled the urge to blurt out the truth about why she’d originally come to see him. He needed support, not another problem to solve. “You said no.”
“Si.” Stefano embraced Roxy. “She didn’t take it well. But then her greed and hunger for status pushed my father into stealing from the family business.”
“And that’s why you’ve had to work ten times harder than anyone I know to prove you’re not your father’s son,” Roxy said.
“She’s been using the fact that she gave me life as a bargaining chip for years.”
“The ongoing cash payouts.” His arms tightened around her and Roxy desperately wished her brother hadn’t been cut from the same cloth as dear old Viviana. “How long has she been doing this to you?”
“She came to my grandmother’s funeral when I was sixteen and pretended to give a shit about me. I bought into her line of bull. Then I overheard her promising to do a tell-all exposé about my father’s embezzlement and death to worm a cash payout from my grandfather.”
“What happened next?” she asked.
“Nonno had a heart attack, and I swore he’d never deal with her again.”
Her heart ached for the little boy that had been abandoned by his mother. And, by his own admission and the online tabloids she’d read, Stefano had racked up quite a slew of women cut from a very similar cloth. No wonder it had been so easy for him to use that background check against her.
“She’s furious. Do you think she’ll retaliate?” she asked.
“No.” Stefano laughed bitterly. “She’ll probably try to get her ten seconds of fame for a few bucks, but my father’s death and the shame he brought to our family’s business is old news. I have better gossip now.”
His voice was sharp, and the glitter in his eyes told her he’d barely contained his fury. “What?” she asked.
“I’m married to a beautiful wife and have an adorable child that I adore. That, and I’ve locked down a merger that will bring our company into the modern ages.” Stefano kissed her forehead, then each of her cheeks. “I’m the prodigal child gone good. Durante Enterprises’ public relations department will spin this story in our favor.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Roxy said, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against Stefano’s. “I’ll do anything I can to make sure it succeeds. But in the meantime, I can think of a lot of other fun ways to take your mind off your worries.” She’d have to make sure nothing, especially her conniving brother, interfered with Stefano’s future because hers was irrevocably tied to his.
* * *
Stefano skimmed his fingers through Roxy’s luxurious hair until his hands reached the nape of her neck. “I bet you can,” he said, then covered her mouth with his.
The taste of her intoxicated him and he swayed with her, the sounds outside a dim counterpoint to the thundering in of his heartbeat. The confrontation he’d had with his mother evaporated while he lost himself in devouring Roxy wanting only this sensation to dominate his senses.
Desire shot through him, instantaneous and undeniable. He deepened his kiss, stroked every soft curve, gathering his control for what he wanted. More. More of her. Claiming her and branding her as his all over again.
She moaned, but gentled his movements by pressing her palm against his chest. He wrenched his lips from hers and she held his gaze. “Let’s put this on hold until later tonight,” Roxy said.
“But why?” Dio. He had to have her. Here. Now. Always.
She glanced over his shoulder and he turned his head to follow her gaze. “The best way to forget about having crappy parents is to show our son what loving ones are like,” Roxy said quietly. “Let’s go outside and play with Matthew, then spend the rest of our night finishing what we’ve started.”
He’d wanted to be out there with Matthew before his mother had arrived. Once again, Roxy’s innate understanding of his desires went beyond the physical.
Stefano dropped his chin to the top of her head. “I’d like that,” he said, meaning it. “But I’m holding you to your promise to continue what we’ve begun.”
“Oh, believe me,
” Roxy said, her smile sparkling in her silver eyes. “I plan on it.”
Within twenty minutes, Stefano had changed into casual wear and was chasing his nephews across the villa’s expansive lawn. In the distance, Matthew ran after Roxy with his water gun, his solid legs crossing the planes of the verdant grass. Nonno lounged beside the pool and shouted Italian words of encouragement to the children while shrieks of all boy attack mode and squeals from the women permeated the warm Mediterranean air.
Roxy probably had no idea how much she turned him on while racing around the garden. Her cheeks flushed bright red, much like they did whenever Stefano made love with her. The white shorts she’d chosen to wear caressed her bottom as if they’d been painted on, and they barely reached the top of her thighs… and her legs had a long, slender shape that begged for a man’s attention.
Later. First, Stefano had to win his water fight. He squeezed his trigger and soaked his nephews one by one, then focused on Roxy with a full on drenching.
“You dog,” she shouted, rushing toward him and firing hers. “You’ll pay for that.”
Her sopping pink wet T-shirt molded to her full, round breasts. He sincerely hoped that his payment came in the form of touching her, caressing her nipples into tight buds, then savoring them all night long.
Now that was a punishment he’d gladly endure.
“Make me,” he called, still squirting his gun in her direction.
“You’ll never get me again.” Roxy darted around a lemon tree and brandished her super soaker in the air from behind the trunk. “I’m going in for the kill.”
“You’ll never win.”
Roxy stepped around the tree, and he caught her eyeing the garden hose stationed next to the villa. “Watch me.”
She raced toward the villa, but before she reached her destination, she slipped and fell on her butt. Stefano dropped his water gun and turned to his cousin Elena. “Take these wild men in for a snack while I check on Roxy,” he said.
The Marriage Ultimatum (Contemporary Romance) Page 12
