The Italian's Final Redemption (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Jackie Ashenden

  A delicious shiver worked its way down her spine the way it always did whenever he was near, her heart beating faster, tension and flutters of heat collecting in the pit of her stomach. Along with a desperate, tight feeling she couldn’t shake.

  He was in a perfectly tailored midnight-blue suit today, with a black shirt that only emphasised his compelling, dark magnetism. With his inky hair and obsidian eyes, the harsh planes and angles of his face, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her life.

  Don’t feel anything for him. You can’t.

  No, of course she didn’t. She was just...admiring him. And she liked being near him and touching him and having him look at her. She was happy whenever she was in his presence, so happy...

  But it was nothing more than that. And it certainly wasn’t love.

  She smiled and took a step towards him, but he didn’t smile back. And he didn’t reach for her the way he normally did. The expression on his face was carved from stone, his black eyes cold. He looked the way he had when she’d first seen him in his office nearly a week ago. Unyielding. Ruthless...

  A chill crept through her.

  ‘Is there something wrong?’ She tried a smile, hoping he would smile back, let her know that everything was fine. ‘I was just going down to the pool and—’

  ‘It’s time to pack, Lucy.’ His voice was cool. ‘You’ll be leaving in an hour.’

  She was aware of a rushing sound in her ears, her vision tunnelling, darkness creeping in around the edges. ‘What do you mean, leaving? You gave me your word that—’ She stopped dead as he thrust out his hand.

  He held something small, square and blue.

  A passport. A United States passport.

  The rushing in her ears grew louder, her vision wavering, her breath coming short and hard. She didn’t understand. Why was he giving her a passport?

  You know why.

  She had an inkling. It was what she’d asked for when she’d initially come to him: an escape. To disappear to a new life in the States. With a new name and identity so no one would ever find her. Where she would be safe at last, just as her mother had wanted.

  But that was before she’d realised he would never let her go the way she’d hoped. Before she’d accepted the weight of her own guilt and her need to make amends for the crimes she’d committed for her father. She’d accepted that her future was a cell and, if she wasn’t exactly happy about it, she wouldn’t balk at it either.

  Except this was...not a cell. This was the escape she’d come to him to help her find.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice sounded hoarse. She glanced at the passport in his hand and then at him. ‘What does this mean?’

  ‘What do you think it means?’ There was only granite in the words, the hard edge of stone. ‘I’m not handing you over to the authorities, Lucy. I’ve organised a passport for you with a new identity, visas, social security numbers, everything you’ll need to start a new life in the States. Your father will never find you, I’ll make sure of it.’

  She began to shake, the tremors starting in her stomach and moving outwards, to her hands and knees. This surely couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be giving her freedom. Not after everything he’d told her about justice and making amends. About guilt and the law and taking responsibility.

  ‘But...’ She tried to make sense of what was happening. ‘I was going to be handed over to the authorities. That’s what you were going to do and I—’

  ‘I changed my mind.’ His voice was like a blade, cutting her off. ‘I’m not going to hand you over to the police.’

  ‘Why not?’ She searched his face to find some signs of his reasoning, but there was nothing. His features were stone. ‘You were very clear that’s what you were going to do. I don’t understand why you’re changing your mind.’

  ‘You were forced into doing those things for your father, Lucy. You had no choice. And even if you had, you’ve paid many times over for those crimes.’

  ‘But I haven’t,’ she said hoarsely.

  ‘Haven’t you?’ His gaze cut like a knife. ‘Weren’t the years you spent as your father’s prisoner a jail term? Wasn’t that house he kept you in a cell? He took your mother from you, civetta. And that is a life sentence.’

  She felt as if the ground had shifted under her feet. As if she were walking in quicksand that would suck her down at any moment. She’d never thought he’d change his mind. Never thought he’d present her with the freedom she wanted, enabling her to keep the promise she’d made to her mother long ago. A freedom she didn’t deserve...

  Is that really true, though?

  Something hot swept through her. He’d told her she wasn’t responsible, that she couldn’t blame herself, that she was worth saving, and then, over the course of the past couple of days, he’d shown her. He’d taken care of her, made her feel valued, made her feel precious, and more—he made her feel worth the sacrifice her mother had made for her.

  ‘You are worth saving, Lucy Armstrong...’ he’d told her, and he’d believed it. This beautiful, passionate, strong man who’d changed her, healed her...

  She stared at him and the ground kept shifting, the landscape kept changing, that hot, bright emotion continuing to sweep through her, crushing everything in its path. It was raw and intense and it filled her with strength, made her feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.

  And she knew what it was. She knew the truth deep in her heart, in her soul.

  The feeling was love.

  Was this what her mother had felt when she’d protected her? This sweep of power? Blinding and sure and so utterly certain. A burst of purity, filling her with a confidence she’d never dreamed she’d have.

  She’d been so afraid of this feeling all this time. Afraid of its power. The kind of power that made someone stay with someone who hurt them. That made them give up their lives for someone else. But she understood now, she got it.

  Love wasn’t something to fear, it was something to embrace. Because love was strength and it was courage, and that was what her mother had drawn on to take that blow to protect her. Her love for her daughter.

  Lucy’s eyes filled with sudden tears. She couldn’t let that sacrifice be in vain. Her mother hadn’t just wanted a life for her, she’d wanted her to be happy. And that was the best monument, wasn’t it? Happiness? Not just for her, but for him too, because they’d both been through terrible things and they deserved it.

  They deserved to have a future. And it would be love that would give them that future.

  She met Vincenzo’s hard, midnight gaze. ‘No,’ she said.

  He ignored her. ‘Pack your things. You’ll be leaving in an hour.’

  ‘No,’ she repeated.

  Vincenzo’s expression became even harder than it already was. ‘No? What do you mean, no?’

  Lucy looked him in the eye. ‘I mean no. I’m not leaving. I want to stay.’

  The expression on his face darkened. ‘This was what you wanted, Lucy. A new life. That’s what you promised your mother.’

  ‘Well, that’s not what I want now.’ And she didn’t hesitate. She gave him the truth, because that was always what she gave him. ‘What I want is you.’

  A muscle flicked in his jaw, tension gathering around him like a storm gathering electricity. ‘Civetta...’

  ‘I want the moments I’d planned. I want another day. I want more than that. I want a future, Vincenzo. I want a future with you.’

  The tension around him became even more electric, a subtle vibration in the air. ‘No.’ The word left no room for argument. ‘You will go and you will go now.’

  ‘Why not?’ She took a step towards him, holding his black gaze. ‘Don’t you want a future too?’

  ‘No.’ Something broke in him, the stillness shattering.

  He threw the passport onto the bed suddenly
, then he closed the distance between them in an explosive movement, reaching for her, his fingers closing around her upper arms and holding her in a grip that bordered on painful. It might have frightened her once, but there was nothing about him that frightened her now, and certainly not with the emotion blazing in his dark eyes, a black fire that nearly swallowed her whole.

  ‘Yes,’ he said roughly. ‘Yes, I want that. I want a future. I want for ever with you, civetta. But if I take even one day I will never let you go. Do you understand now?’

  Her heart was full, emotion flooding out of her, and she didn’t hide it. She let him see what was in her soul.

  ‘Then don’t.’ She leaned into his strong grip and his heat. Leaning into him. ‘Don’t let me go.’

  For a second the fire in his eyes blazed so hot it nearly burned her to the ground, the grip he had on her searing her. But that was okay. She wanted to burn. She wanted to burn with him.

  But then, as abruptly as he’d grabbed her, he let her go and stepped away, leaving her swaying, leaning into a warmth that was no longer there. The fire in his eyes had gone, the blaze doused. He was cold again, expressionless. Emotionless.

  ‘You say that,’ he said, casual. ‘But you don’t understand what your life would be like with me. People want to kill me every day. I’m a target and so you’ll be a target too. You won’t be able to go anywhere without a security detail or without planning your every movement. Your life will be curtailed. The only place you’ll ever have any freedom is here in the villa, with me.’

  ‘So?’ She smiled, wanting him to understand. ‘None of that matters, Vincenzo. Don’t you see?’

  His eyes were black stars, glittering cold and sharp. ‘No, I don’t see. And you may not think it matters, but it matters to me. I don’t want you to be a prisoner with me on this island. I don’t want you to have a life limited by safety concerns and security. You should be free to explore the things that interest you, that excite you. And, more than anything, you should be safe. And I can’t give you that. I can never give you that.’

  A crack ran slowly through her heart, sharp and jagged. Because it was obvious that he didn’t understand. And why would he? He’d been betrayed by someone who loved him, the person who’d mattered most. No one had protected him the way her mother had protected her. She might have lost her mum, but she’d known that Kathy had loved her. Had he had anyone who’d cared about him?

  He was so hard, so cold. So shut down. All the passion she knew lived in him locked away... No, he hadn’t.

  ‘Vincenzo—’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it. That is my decision, whether you like it or not.’

  She studied him, sensing the battle in him. He’d been at war with himself the whole time she’d been here, torn between his principles and his passions. But he didn’t have to choose, couldn’t he see that? Didn’t he know? He could have both. Love was big enough.

  He’s afraid.

  The insight came almost forcibly and she saw it, because she knew fear, knew it intimately. It was there in his eyes, in the lies he was telling himself and her. And they were lies. He was afraid of what was between them and he didn’t know what to do.

  ‘If you really wanted me, you could have me,’ she said quietly. ‘It doesn’t have to be a choice, Vincenzo. It’s not one or the other. It’s not black and white. And all this stuff about keeping me safe sounds good, but it’s just a convenient excuse, isn’t it?’

  He said nothing, the tension around him almost humming.

  The crack in her heart became deeper, wider, and her eyes prickled with tears. Because he was desperate, she could feel it. He was fighting so hard, her poor Vincenzo, and she didn’t know what to say to reach him. To show him that he had nothing to fear.

  She took a step closer, but he didn’t move, towering over her, his gaze utterly forbidding. Intimidating. Yet she knew better now what that aura of menace actually was. It was his armour, his protection. His heart had been broken into pieces once before and now he was desperately shielding it.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said softly, trying to calm him the way he’d calmed her days ago. ‘It’s all right. You don’t have to be afraid.’

  His eyes glittered, cold as the depths of space. ‘I’m not afraid. You deserve freedom, Lucy. And what I deserve is freedom from you. You’re a distraction. You’re getting in the way and taking up my time. I have more important things to do than sleep with you.’

  It might have hurt her badly if she’d been the same Lucy that had come to Capri days before. But she wasn’t the same Lucy. She was changed, and he’d changed her. He’d shown her where her true strength lay, and it wasn’t running and hiding, it was in embracing what was in her heart. And she knew he was lying. That what he was doing was protecting himself. He was a city under siege and he would do anything he could to keep the invaders out.

  And she could storm those walls with anger and pain, but she knew that wouldn’t work. It would only make him call for reinforcements. No, if she wanted to crack his defences she was going to have to drop her own.

  Lucy reached out and gently touched his cheek, the faintest brush of her fingers. ‘I’ve fallen in love with you, did you know that?’ The words were soft, yet the power of the feeling inside her vibrated in every syllable. ‘You make me so happy.’

  And just for a second the walls around his city looked as if they might shatter as shock flickered through his black eyes. The defenders putting down their swords, the battle inside him pausing.

  But only for a moment.

  ‘I don’t care,’ he said in a voice made of ice.

  The crack through her heart became a chasm. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t understand. Because he didn’t want to.

  Vincenzo de Santi was a man with an iron will and he’d made a decision and nothing was going to sway him, still less the woman who loved him with everything she was.

  He was happy in his cage. He didn’t want to see that she was handing him a key.

  Anger and pain would accomplish nothing. Only love could scale those walls. Only love would help him overcome his fear. But it was something he would have to come to in his own time. He would have to open the gates of his heart himself—she couldn’t force him.

  It hurt. It hurt so much. But her pain wasn’t for herself, it was for him. This beautiful, powerful, passionate panther, stuck in a cage of his own making. Too afraid of the open door standing before him to take a step through it.

  All she could do was give him what she always gave him: the truth. And hope that somehow it would stay with him. It would be her last gift to him.

  ‘If that’s what you choose to believe, then fine,’ she said quietly. ‘But know this. All the justice in the world won’t change the feeling inside you. It won’t do anything for the guilt or the grief. But you can allow yourself to have something good. You can let yourself be happy. You deserve it, Vincenzo. And so do I.’

  He said nothing, cold radiating from him so fiercely he might as well have been made of ice, but she went on anyway.

  ‘I think you do care. I think you love me as much as I love you. But you’re afraid and I think I understand why. You were betrayed by the one person who shouldn’t have betrayed you and now you’re protecting yourself.’ She wanted to touch him again, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not when she knew it wouldn’t help. ‘But I need you to know right now that you can trust me. I won’t betray you. I love you and you don’t have to be worthy of that love. You don’t have to be pure. You don’t have to be just. You don’t have to prove yourself, not to me. The only thing you have to be is you.’

  The silence that fell was deafening.

  Vincenzo’s gaze had turned flat and black and depthless. ‘Are you done?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said and her voice didn’t shake, even though her heart had cracked into pieces in her chest.

  This
time he said nothing.

  He simply turned on his heel and left.

  He didn’t want to see her pack up her meagre belongings. Didn’t want to see her tears or hear her husky, sweet voice telling him things he didn’t want to hear. Telling him that he was afraid. That she loved him.

  So he left her standing there, going down to his office and slamming the door.

  Rage burned in his heart. At himself for what he couldn’t let himself have and at her for all those things she’d said. Because he wasn’t afraid. And he really didn’t care. And as for worthiness...

  Vincenzo strode to his desk and sat down, preparing to focus on some work, trying to shove all those thoughts from his head.

  But it was impossible.

  ‘You don’t have to be worthy,’ she’d said, as if he’d been trying to make himself worthy all this time. Which wasn’t true. He knew he wasn’t worthy. What he was doing was trying to atone. For himself and for his family. Pursuing justice was the only way he could make up for what he’d done, for the weight of guilt that crushed him.

  ‘All the justice in the world won’t change the feeling inside you...’

  Ah, but she was wrong about that too. He’d wait until she’d vanished to the States and was safely ensconced in the new life he’d made for her, letting her father believe she was still with him on Capri. And only once she was settled would he make his move.

  And that would make him feel better. Delivering justice to the man who’d hurt her.

  You, you mean?

  Vincenzo gritted his teeth. Yes, sending her away had hurt her, but he’d had to do it. And it wasn’t because of fear. He’d told her the truth; he couldn’t allow her to distract him from his true purpose, because what else would he be without it?

  A liar. A murderer. A traitor. A tool to be used, not a son to be loved.

  ‘You were betrayed by the one person who was supposed to love you...’

  His civetta. She knew exactly what to say to appeal to his traitorous emotions. And they were traitorous. He couldn’t trust them.