by Maisey Yates
Even though she would never go back, even though she would never make a different decision, it hurt all the same. Her life had changed for the better because she’d left, but she could still never give her father credit for that.
Not when the rejection hurt so much.
“That must have been hard,” he said, his voice rough.
“It was,” she said. “I felt sorry for myself for a while, then I got a job at a diner in town. Saved up my money for a year. I took the SATs. I got a passport. I went to Europe and started working wherever I could and...”
“And you met Ashley.”
“And you,” she said, the words settling strangely in the air, tasting strange on her tongue. Settling strangely in her chest. It felt so significant, meeting him. Being here with him. Even though she had decided to have sex with him, knowing that it wasn’t about simply experiencing sex, she was still processing the implications of that.
“Yes,” he said, something strange coloring his tone. “You got a bit more than you bargained for with all of this, didn’t you?” There was something soft in his voice now, and she was suspicious of it. Mostly because there was nothing soft about him.
“You are a lot,” she remarked. “A lot of a lot.”
“We get along well, don’t we?”
“I’m not sure what context you mean that in. You mean, when you’re calling me strange and commenting on my habit of eating cereal on the floor?”
“Mostly I mean in bed,” he said, “but that is the place I most often try to relate to women.”
She frowned. “I’m not sure that was the most flattering thing for you to say.”
“I am divorced. You have to consider that there may be a reason for that.”
“Well, I met the other half of your marriage. So, I am not terribly mystified as to why that didn’t work out. However, I have asked myself a few times why you ended up with her.”
“Because she was unsuitable. Because she was a nightmare. And I knew it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I imagine growing up in a strict household, you received quite a bit of punishment when you did things wrong, or things that your parents thought were wrong.”
“Yes,” she said, “of course.”
“Ashley was my punishment.” He laughed, the sound containing no humor at all.
“For what?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.” Except, she had a feeling that it mattered more than just about anything else. “But I knew it was doomed. Somewhere, part of me always knew. But you... I feel like with you perhaps things might not be so hopeless.”
It felt, very suddenly, as though her stomach had been hollowed out. “What?”
“What if we tried, Esther?”
“Tried what?” She wasn’t thinking straight. It was impossible to think straight right now, with their lovemaking still buzzing through her system, with her heart pounding so hard she could scarcely hear her own brain over it.
“Us. Why do we need to separate at the end of this?” He moved closer to her, touching her face, that simple gesture warming her in a way that nothing else ever had. That connection, so desperately needed after being so intimate with him.
“Because,” she said, no conviction behind that word whatsoever, “you didn’t choose this. Neither did I. We just... We’re making the best out of this. And of course we are attracted to each other, but it doesn’t make any sense to start in a way that we can’t go on.”
“That’s what doesn’t make sense to me. Why can’t we go on?”
“You know why. Because I just got away from a restrictive existence. One that made it so I couldn’t decide who I was or what I wanted. I can’t do that to myself,” she said, but still not even she could believe the words coming out of her mouth. She knew in her head that she should, knew that there was truth in them, and that there was importance and weight to what she was doing. Finding herself out here in the real world when before she had been so isolated from it.
And that it was dangerous to feel that everything of importance had shrunk down to this hotel room. To the space between their naked bodies, and the need for there to be less of it.
That her anticipation of what was to come had become small, focused. On where his hand might travel next, what point on her body his fingertips might make contact with next.
So dangerous. So very dangerous.
“Has anything about your life with me been restricting? I have taken you more places than you could have gone on your own. You’re not bound to waiting tables in order to stay alive. You have days you could devote to studying, and there is no reason you can’t be with me and go to school.”
What he was saying... It was so tempting. So bizarrely clear and easy in appearance in that moment. A life with him, where they could travel at will, where she could still get the schooling that she wanted. It was just that she would be with him. And she couldn’t even see that as a negative. Not now, not while her entire being was still humming from his touch.
“But we can’t start something that we can’t...keep going. I know these babies aren’t mine. I went into this knowing that I would give them up. Things are getting muddled, and I don’t know if it’s hormones or what. I just know that as it gets more real, it gets more difficult. And I just keep telling myself that I can’t do it. But do you know what I really can’t do? I can’t be their mother for a little while and then walk away. I have to either stay as I am, with absolutely no intention of raising them, or I have to have them forever.” The very idea made her stomach seize tight with a strange kind of longing.
It was as though a dam had been destroyed and a flood of emotions was suddenly washing forward. Things she hadn’t allowed herself to imagine pushing forward in her mind. What it would be like to see the babies once they were born. If she would hold them. And what it would feel like when she did. When they were in her arms rather than in her womb.
What it would feel like to hand them to Renzo and then walk away forever.
Or, even more insidious, what it would feel like to hold them forever. To become a mother.
That thought made her feel like she was being torn in two. Part of her was desperately afraid of having another human life under her care. What did she know? She was practically a child herself, still learning about the world, discovering all of these things that had been hidden from her for so long.
But there was another part of her... Another part of her that craved it in some ways. That craved real connection. Love. In a way she had never before received it in her life. It would be a chance to love someone unconditionally. A chance at having that love returned.
She looked up at Renzo. And that made her feel like she had been shot straight through the heart. Because there was another person involved in all of this, someone other than the children.
She realized then that she wasn’t entirely sure what he was suggesting. “Are you suggesting that I stay as the...the nanny? Your mistress? Or...”
“Of course you will be my wife, Esther.”
Her stomach tightened painfully. “You want to marry me?”
“We can give our children a family. We can be a family. I made a terrible mistake when I married Ashley. I was angry at the world, I cannot lie to you about that. I was trying to prove something. To prove my lack of worth. But the reality that I am having two children makes me want to do just the opposite. I want to take this situation and turn it into something that could be wonderful for everyone.”
This was the first she had heard him express a sentiment like this. But then, this was also the first time they had ever made love. Maybe it had changed things for him, too. She knew that she felt altered. Utterly and completely. Why wouldn’t it be the same for him?
But there was one thing she couldn’t overlook. She had lived in a household where there was no love, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could never do it again. He was promising her things. Promising her freedom, promising her that she co
uld still see to her dreams.
But she needed to know if there was something behind it. If there was insurance. Something to ensure that it wouldn’t all break apart, the way that things had broken apart with Ashley and him. Sure, there was the fact that she was not Ashley, but he was still himself. And even though she had feelings for him, deep feelings, there was so much about him she didn’t know.
What she felt was much more instinctual than it was logical. There had been something about him, something electric from the moment she had first laid eyes on him. Maybe it was biology. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was pregnant with his babies.
But she had a feeling it was deeper.
She wished it weren’t deeper. It would make all of this so much simpler. She could evaluate it a bit more coldly. With the sort of distance that it required.
She had no distance.
And she needed to know something, one thing. Because she had learned something important once already. That control was destructive. It had destroyed her mother. Broken her down from the normal woman she’d once been—vibrant and full of life—into a gray and colorless creature. It had very nearly broken her, too. But she’d found the strength to stand.
If she found herself in the same situation again...would she be able to stand strong? Or would she be too damaged, too broken down this time?
No. She couldn’t let it. So she had to know.
“Renzo,” she said, speaking the words as soon as she could form them in her mind. “I need to know something. I mean, I need to tell you something. I feel like...I’ve been happy with you these past few weeks. And I didn’t expect to be. I didn’t even want to be. Because I wanted to feel nothing for you, to feel nothing about this pregnancy. I wanted to be able to walk away. I don’t think I can do that now. Not easily. Not the way that I intended. No matter what my intentions were, I know that something has been building between us. That there’s a connection there that wasn’t before. I think...I think I might love you. And that’s why I’m hesitating to say yes to you now. I’ve lived in a home where I wasn’t loved, and I can’t do that again. So I need to know. Do you love me? Do you think you could at least grow to love me?”
There was no hesitation. Instead, he leaned forward, kissing her deeply, with all of the lingering passion that still existed between them even after their crashing releases earlier.
“Of course I love you,” he said when they parted, his dark gaze intense, as affecting as it had been from the very first moment they’d met. “I want to spend my life with you. Say yes, Esther. Please, say yes.”
She looked at him, and she realized that there was only one answer she’d ever given to Renzo, and that would remain true now, too. “Yes,” she said, “yes, Renzo. I’ll marry you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
RENZO TOOK A drink and looked out the door of his office, down the darkened hall. He was engaged to Esther now. For real.
And he had lied to her.
There were a great many occasions where he had employed creative truths in order to get his way. It was a necessity in business, and as everyone did it, it seemed as acceptable as anything else. He had done the same with Ashley. From marrying her in Canada to the way he had executed their prenuptial agreement.
He had never felt even the smallest bit of guilt for it. Perhaps because honesty had never gotten him much of anything. Whatever the reasoning, he felt guilty now. He felt guilty lying to Esther.
But would it matter if she never knew? It had cost him nothing to tell her that he loved her. It wouldn’t matter one bit that he didn’t. She needed to hear it, and that was what mattered.
Except she had told him about her father. About the way he’d controlled her.
He had to wonder how the hell he was any different.
He thought back to the hope shining in her dark eyes, and he crushed the surge of emotion with another slug of alcohol.
They had flown home from New York this morning, and he had done his best to keep his hands off her out of deference to her inexperience. And also, because even he had his limits. He had thought he might keep her mindless and loved up in order to keep her compliance, but that had seemed...distasteful even to him.
However, she seemed happy. She seemed settled in her decision.
And every time she had looked over at him with softness evident in her expression, he had forced himself to continue looking. Had prevented himself from looking away.
And so the guilt had taken even deeper root.
He had lied about a lot of things. But he had never lied about love. He had never once told Ashley that he had feelings for her he didn’t have. Not ever.
It shouldn’t matter. Because love meant nothing. It had been yanked from his heart by the roots sixteen years ago when his rights to his child had been signed away.
He had forfeited everything then. His right to love. His right to happiness. Even his right to anger. He took another drink.
He set his glass down on the bar with a clink, and then began to walk out of the room, his legs carrying him down the hall and toward Esther. He should stay away from her. He had no right to touch her again. And yet, he was going to.
Of all the things he could not regret that were part and parcel to this deception, it was the fact that he would have possession of her that stood out most. He wanted her. He wanted to keep her near him. Wanted her to live life under his protection, under his care.
And how are you different from the family she ran away from?
He was different. He would give her everything she needed. Everything she wanted. In return they would present a compelling picture of family unity to the world, and his children would have a sense of stability. He would inherit the Valenti family company, and as a result, so would the children. Doing anything less would rob them all of that.
There was nothing wrong with that. She would be happy with him.
Everyone would be happier for this decision having been made.
He curled his hand into a fist as he walked down the hall, trying to ignore the intense pressure in his chest.
He remembered her saying something earlier about letting it go. About how she’d had to let go of her past in order to move forward. He didn’t know why it echoed in his mind now as he made his way into her bedroom. Perhaps it was because he was longing for her again. Perhaps it was because right now he could feel the weight of it all pressing down on him. All the things that he couldn’t bring himself to release his hold on.
Because if he did, what was his life? If he forgot what had created him, then what would fuel him?
He pushed all of that aside, and he embraced the darkness. The darkness that was around him, the darkness that was in him. And he asked himself, not for the first time, what benefit it would be to his children to be raised in such a place, with such a man.
He put his hand to his forehead, pushing back against the tension that was overtaking him. He’d had too much to drink, maybe. That was the only explanation. For both the attack of conscience and the oppressive weight that seemed to assault him now.
“Renzo?”
Esther’s voice cut through the darkness. He knew he must look like quite the looming villain, standing in the doorway dimly backlit by the hall. “Yes?”
“Come to bed with me.”
That simple offer, so sweet and void of any underlying request, or motive, struck him even harder than it might have considering how deeply he was pondering his own ulterior motives. But he cast them aside now. As he began to cast aside his clothes. He had done the best he could. Keeping his hands off her as though that made him honorable, somehow, when he was manipulating her with his words already.
He had no honor here. He might as well embrace it. He had forgotten why he was even doing this.
He swallowed hard, pulling his shirt over his head then moving his hands to his belt.
“I love you,” she said, shifting beneath the blankets and pushing herself into a sitting position. He clenched h
is teeth, shoving his pants and underwear down and leaving them on the floor. He felt...cold. His chest felt as though it had been wrapped in ice, his heart barely beating now.
He moved slowly to the bed, pressing his knee down on the mattress. Then he leaned forward, his palms flat on each side of her, caging her in. “I love you, too,” he said, feeling nothing around his heart when he spoke the words.
He kissed her then, and everything seemed to come to life. All of the ice melting away beneath the heat of the fire that existed between them.
There were a few things that he was certain of in this moment. That she was an innocent. That she deserved better than him. That he was lying. And that he was going to have her anyway.
She moved her hands over his skin, the joy that she seemed to find in exploring his body stoking the flames of his libido and his guilt all at once. All of this was new for her. She’d never had a lover before. Had never even kissed a man before him, and he was going to be the only lover she ever had. Her sexuality would be completely owned by him, utterly shaped by him.
When it came to technique and skill, he supposed she could do worse. He knew that he satisfied her. He knew that he could give her what she wanted. Physically. Emotionally, the exchange would always be empty on his side.
He pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. She would never know. She pushed her fingertips through his hair, clutching his head as he deepened the kiss, as he flattened her against the mattress. She arched against him, a sound of desperation keening through her.
He despised himself then. He was all inside. Thinking all of these things, calculating his every move. And she was honest. Giving. Generous with her body, with her touch. She wiggled beneath him, managing to slip away and push him on to his back at the same time.
“Esther...”
