‘I only want what’s best for you,’ he called after her angrily.
She turned back, her anger breaking. ‘Don’t act like you’re doing what’s best for me. You’re doing what’s best for yourself, as you always do. You’re the biggest coward I’ve ever met.’
She walked out of the villa and got into Francesca’s van. She’d done it. She’d got through the night with her head held high—until now. Now she knew he was leaving for good.
Now she was wrecked.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘YOU’RE SURE YOU won’t come along?’ Alex asked as he started up his old truck. ‘The roses are almost over for the season. Don’t you want to see the last of them?’
Gracie forced a small smile and shook her head. ‘I’ll come down in another few weeks and see their winter beauty. I have too much to do for Francesca today.’
Alex waved and drove away and Gracie turned to walk down the narrow street towards the Pasticceria Zullo. It was far too soon to go anywhere near Villa Rosetta. Just over a week since that horrible party and Rafael’s departure early the next day.
There’d be another festival next year. She’d be over him by then. The villa would have been sold and a new owner installed. She hoped it would be a family to enjoy it, rather than continuing as a soulless holiday home for the dysfunctional and fortune-stricken. Hopefully Alex would still be tending the roses and she and Francesca would have expanded their empire.
Meantime, she’d plod on as she was, where she was. Heartbreak wasn’t going to drive her from the one home she’d chosen for herself. She loved Bellezzo—the warmth, the water, the people, even their kind curiosity. But she was furious for letting memories of Rafael taint her whole town—for doing exactly what she’d promised them both she wouldn’t. For falling for him. It wasn’t like she’d chosen to. She’d thought she’d had it under control—that it was just a crush that, once indulged, would pass.
It totally wasn’t and totally hadn’t.
Didn’t he need love? Didn’t everyone? But he didn’t want it from her. Maybe she should have fought harder, but there was only so much rejection a girl could take. Because she needed love too.
She’d tried to be honest to others and to be true to herself. But she still didn’t have the love or the family that she’d longed for. She still didn’t truly fit in. Maybe she’d never truly belong here in Bellezzo either—she didn’t even speak the language properly. And it was only her work that had warmed people to her. Despite everything, this still wasn’t the home she’d been seeking for so long. Maybe she’d never have it.
‘Quit it,’ she muttered to herself, torpedoing her self-pitying thoughts and walking more quickly to work. ‘Do something.’
She was going to be fine—in the future. She refused to regret her honesty. Or walking away. He said people settled and maybe some did. But she wasn’t going to settle for what little he was willing to give her for however long he chose to. She had more self-worth than that. Even if she did regret that fact at two in the morning when she was restless and lonely and wishing she’d never opened her stupid mouth.
At least she knew she could love, right? At least she’d had an amazing experience and one day, a long time from now, she might have it again. She might meet someone new—even here, in her sleepy, safe little village where she wasn’t hiding. Until then, she was just going to have to keep super insanely busy.
But the temptation to flee was strong. Now she understood her mother’s need to run from every fear. Her mother had wanted to hold on to her, not share her. But she’d been so afraid of losing her that she’d clung too tight and in the end she’d lost her anyway. Because Gracie had felt like nothing more than a possession. That resentment Gracie felt towards her mother? She never wanted Rafe feeling that towards her. She would never smother or stifle someone she loved. So she couldn’t give in to that other instinct warring within her—to follow him and fight harder for him. She’d told him how she felt and what she wanted. His answer, his choice wasn’t going to change. She had to accept it, she’d be honest and face her misery, and eventually she would get over it.
One long, slow day at a time.
* * *
Rafe strode down the busy Manhattan street, mentally adding to his to-do list. He was back to business—working on a new acquisition, checking up on other investments, planning further developments—barking orders into his phone. He needed to travel more to personally check on his management team. That would help reignite the passion for his work, wouldn’t it?
But at every café he walked past he looked at the pastries and just knew they wouldn’t taste as good as hers. Weirdly he didn’t feel like eating at all. He had a permanently nauseous feeling in his gut.
He’d been happy—damn it—for years. He’d worked hard, played hard, enjoyed all the finest things in life. Being his own man. And he’d been more than happy with that, hadn’t he? He’d loved striving for more.
Except it wasn’t giving him satisfaction now. The deals were boring. Another hotel? So what? Another apartment complex? He really didn’t give a damn. The drive to conquer had fizzled.
He had to be coming down with a bug. Nothing seemed to soothe the constant nagging sensation in his chest. He wasn’t sleeping well either. Not even physical exhaustion led to a full night’s sleep and, heaven knew, he’d tried. He’d basically run a marathon the other night and followed it up by swimming an ocean’s worth of lengths in the hotel’s basement pool. Regardless, he still woke during the night, that ache in his chest exacerbated by the unwanted yearning of his body. His sexual drive burned. That was the one and only part of him still fired up. Hungrier than ever.
Sex.
He’d been having a lot of it with Gracie, so going from feast to famine was an adjustment, right? That was all it was. He could easily make a call and collect a willing bedmate. But the thought of sleeping with someone else made his skin crawl and the thought of Gracie sleeping with someone else made his temper flare. Never had he felt this irritable. Because underneath it all was the rasping desire to see her. Just see her and ensure she was okay.
Of course she’d be okay. It was all just intensity and it would pass. Because how could she love him when she barely knew him? He’d flattered her, he’d made her feel good. It was gratitude she felt. Not love. She’d been lonely—
But denying her declaration wasn’t fair to her. She’d been so determined to be honest. What she’d said the other day, she’d meant.
So they wanted different things. And he couldn’t take advantage of her feelings when he felt nothing but...
Adoration.
She’d joked about that—teased him with his own platitudes that it would pass. That nothing was permanent. That it was just a crush.
It didn’t feel like any other damn crush.
He had no proper experience of love. He didn’t really know what it was.
He had nothing to give her—at least, nothing intangible. And it was all about the intangible with Gracie. Not the money, the jet or jewels.
Trust was impossible—he couldn’t trust what he was feeling now. This dragging pain? This growing insistence that he’d made a mistake? How could he be sure it wouldn’t change or fade or just die? Because Gracie’s supposed love for him—couldn’t that just die too?
The ache in his chest sharpened to an eye-watering pain. He couldn’t bear the thought of her taking away the love she’d declared for him.
Yeah. That was what he was afraid of. That she’d stop loving him. That she’d leave him. That he would lose her. To be cast out and alone again? Never. He’d pushed her away before that could possibly happen.
Yes, it had been a short time that they’d been together but what he felt for her—the comfort and ease he felt around her, the laughter and amusement he enjoyed with her, the desire to provoke her that melted into protectiveness, the heat and total loss of cont
rol... What was all that if not...what?
But Gracie had been honest. Even when it had cost her, when it had embarrassed her, she had been honest. Could he claim the same? No. He’d backed away—not brave enough to probe his real motivations.
Did it matter?
From the damn heart attack he seemed to be having right now, apparently it did. She was kind, generous, loving, forgiving. Maybe the person he really needed to learn from was her. Maybe he’d just hurt the one person who would have always been there for him if he hadn’t treated her like dirt. He’d abandoned her. He’d rejected her.
He stopped still on the pavement, murmuring an apology to the person who almost smacked into him from behind. He stepped out of the stream of pedestrians and tried to breathe more deeply, rubbing his chest with the heel of his hand.
‘You all right, mister?’
He glanced down. An elderly tourist stopped beside him, a worried look in her eye.
‘Uh, yeah.’ He inhaled sharply. ‘I think I will be.’ He conjured up a smile for the old dear. But his smile rapidly turned genuine in appreciation of her thoughtfulness. ‘Thank you.’
It was the kind of thing Gracie would do without the slightest hesitation. Because she noticed and she cared and she had a hugely generous soul.
A rush of decisiveness overwhelmed him. He needed to get back to Italy. He needed to make it right—to tell her his truth. Never to be afraid.
It couldn’t be too late. He refused to consider it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘A FAMILY IS moving into Rosetta.’ Sofia—Alex’s minestrone-maker and Francesca’s cousin—swept into the pasticceria and ignored the queue of people to gossip. ‘It’s not going to be a holiday villa any more. I just heard from Stella.’
‘Oh?’ Francesca muttered noncommittally, shooting Gracie a small smile of support.
Gracie kept busy smoothing the custard and pretended she wasn’t eavesdropping.
‘Apparently they’re moving in almost right away.’ Sofia added. ‘It’s happened so quickly they haven’t even made the sale listing official.’
Gracie had spent the past week avoiding the Villa Rosetta and avoiding talking much to anyone. She’d even been reduced to entertaining the idea of going away for a week or so, just to avoid the curious glances of the villagers.
So this news was helpful. She was glad a family was moving in. Villa Rosetta was made for a family and she would truly be able to move forward. She’d never see Rafael Vitale again.
But as that realisation struck home she had to turn away. Darting into the back corner of the kitchen, she closed her eyes in a futile attempt to hold back her tears. Because that realisation hurt. Utterly and everywhere.
‘Gracie? Gracie?’
She whirled at the concern in Francesca’s voice. Giving her cheeks a hurried wipe, she went out. ‘What’s wrong? Is it Alex?’
She lurched to a halt in the middle of the small café and stared.
Prickling heat washed over her, swiftly chased by cold sweat. She was staring at Rafael Vitale. The man she missed with every breath. The man who’d torn her heart out.
He said nothing. He didn’t need to. The rest of the world disappeared.
She couldn’t speak. She desperately wanted to flee or hide or curl into a ball and die. But she couldn’t get her body to move. She’d been glued in place by his presence. And right this second she hated him for it.
‘Gracie,’ he said quietly.
She couldn’t answer.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Gracie.’
She had no idea how she was looking at him. Tears were stinging her eyes again and she didn’t want blurry vision. She wanted to be able to see him. To believe he was here. Why was he here? Why had he returned?
Emotion broke through the shocked rigidity her defensive system had encased her in.
Anger. Pure, electric anger.
‘I made a mistake,’ he suddenly said in an uneven voice. ‘Huge. More than one. Lots.’
‘What are you doing here?’ Her throat was so tight she couldn’t get her voice past a whisper.
The café was quieter than a mausoleum. Was no one else breathing either?
She couldn’t think what to say. Her heart raced, drumming blood in her ears. It was impossible to think. She fell back onto her work, like an automaton. ‘You want some pastries? Bread?’
‘No. I just want you.’
She was shocked to silence all over again. He couldn’t have just said that. She couldn’t have this conversation in front of all these people. Clenching her fists, she finally forced her broken-hearted body to move. She stalked away from the concerned gazes of her customers, her boss. And him.
Most of all him.
‘Don’t run away from me, Gracie,’ he called as she burst out the door and into the hot summer air.
‘Then don’t tear me apart in front of my world,’ she snapped back. ‘Give me some privacy.’
He stilled. ‘I’m sorry. I was trying to...’
‘To what?’
He stared at her for a moment, then swung round to see the people now standing behind him outside the café. He turned back, hurriedly stepping towards her. ‘Privacy. Right.’ He gestured to his car. ‘Please.’
The Ferrari was illegally parked right across the road from the café.
She stared as he opened the passenger door for her. Was she going to let him do this? Could she really take any more hurt?
I just want you.
She wanted to believe that so much. She wanted him so much. But he didn’t do relationships of the kind she wanted. He didn’t do for ever.
‘Please, Gracie.’ His voice was soft so only she could hear and she couldn’t bear to look into his eyes.
She couldn’t bear to deny him. Or herself. Not again. Not ever.
Stiffly she stepped closer so she could get into the car. Except he grabbed her arm and leaned in to whisper, ‘I’ve never had it before, Gracie. I didn’t know how to handle it.’
‘Handle what?’ she croaked.
‘Love.’
Her heart thudded so hard it knocked all the air from her lungs and she couldn’t get any more in. ‘I’m not—’
‘I miss you,’ he interrupted, his whisper harsher and rushed. ‘I hate waking up and you’re not there. I hate that I pushed away the best thing ever to enter my life. I hate that I was that stupid to run from this.’
She couldn’t resist any more. She looked up to meet his gaze. The dark heat, the bruised look beneath his eyes smote her heart. ‘This?’
‘You.’ His fiery eyes burned into hers. ‘I hate the villa without you. It’s too big. It’s empty. I’m empty.’
Her mouth dried. ‘But you’ve sold it.’
‘No.’ He shook his head in a jerky movement. ‘I took it off the market.’
‘Sofia just said a family is moving in. Almost immediately.’
He stood very still for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘I’m hoping that’s what’s going to happen.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘It’s not a very big family. Yet. It’s a couple. I like to think they’ll have some kids eventually.’
‘A couple?’ She couldn’t tear her gaze from his, from the ferocity of his focus on her.
‘You and me.’
A whooshing noise fuzzed her hearing—like large waves crashing on the shore. She couldn’t keep up with what he was saying. She couldn’t believe it. ‘You’re keeping the villa?’
‘Only if you’re living in it with me,’ he muttered. ‘Alex can tend his roses. We’ll get him better help. You can work in the pasticceria, or you can develop your catering business from the kitchen.’
Her head felt woollier than ever. ‘Did you say...kids?’
As he stared into her eyes, his gaze narrowed and he gently shook her arm a little. ‘Get in the ca
r, Gracie. We need privacy.’
She was trembling so much it took two attempts to get her seatbelt clicked. She couldn’t get her walloping heart to ease. He didn’t speak and she couldn’t. She was shaking inside. He couldn’t drive fast enough for her. She needed his touch on her again—to feel inside and out that he was here, that he’d come back to her and he wasn’t leaving. She didn’t want him to leave her ever again. But was that what he’d even meant?
Uncertainty ate away what little security she had.
I just want you.
For what—sex? For another fortnight? Doubts circled like clouds of doom. She wanted to believe in the fairy tale, but he was the one who’d told her fairy tales were for fools. She didn’t want to be a fool over him. She didn’t want to begin to believe...
He screeched to a stop outside the villa, flung his seatbelt off and leaned towards her.
‘Trust doesn’t come easily for me—loving,’ he muttered harshly. ‘Except you’re so loveable.’ He turned her face so she had to look at him. ‘You’re so easy to love, Gracie. I want you. I want everything with you. And I want it for always. Please tell me it’s not too late.’
Everything for always? A single fat teardrop slid down her cheek. She couldn’t stand it. ‘Of course it’s not too late. I can’t just switch it off.’
And she was sorry he’d been so hurt that he’d think she could. She gulped back a sob.
‘No. Don’t cry.’ He drew her closer, his whisper urgent. ‘I’m sorry. So sorry. How do I make this better?’
He didn’t give her time to answer. With a growl he swooped, slamming his mouth on hers—hard and rough and passionate. She clutched him back, moaning under his onslaught, desperately angry and empty and needing to kiss him back to know. It was brutal and raw and she couldn’t hold back because she’d missed him too much. She poured all her pain into answering his kiss. And suddenly it changed completely—no less wild, but the warmth that began to flood her body was like no other. Yes. This was what she needed. To feel his passion—to burn again in the fire that always ignited between them. She couldn’t ever get enough.
Awakening His Innocent Cinderella Page 17
