Chapter 8
SHE DRANK HALF THE glass of wine in one sip, simply as an excuse to look away, but her heart was slamming into her ribs and her tummy was squeezing. Heat flushed her face and a loud ringing sounded in her ears.
“I don’t know why I didn’t realise sooner,” he was saying quietly
She wanted to reassure him somehow, but she couldn’t. Danger surrounded her. Danger at talking about her relationship with Michael, because somehow it made it more real, rather than just something she could lock away in a part of her brain that she never wanted to go to again. Danger because this man knew her ex, was – or had been – friends with him. Danger because she didn’t want Nico to see her as a woman who would stay with someone like Michael even when academically she knew all the statistics on that, on her reasons for not walking away from him sooner. Danger because she cared what Nico thought of her more than was wise, given their casual relationship status.
“I’m right?”
She shook her head, her hair whipping against her cheek. But then, when she looked at his face, she knew she couldn’t lie to him. She didn’t want to. This thing with Nico would end in a matter of weeks, and she’d never see him again. She could lock him in the same part of her brain she kept Michael, walking away from both of them and not looking back.
She didn’t want to think about the way that made her heart feel all scraped out, the way it tore at her nerve endings.
“Yes.” Her eyes swept shut. She hadn’t expected to feel a rush of relief at admitting that and nor did she want to cry, but tears filled her eyes and she blinked hastily to clear them.
She felt Nico’s tension. It was strange how without saying a word his body could convey so much to her. He looked at her for several seconds, his features unrecognisable, and then he nodded slowly, scanning her face.
“It didn’t start out like that. In the beginning he was charming, if somewhat controlling. But I thought that was a sign of how much he liked me. I was such a gullible fool.” She shook her head. “I should have seen the signs. One time he was driving us to dinner and someone cut him off. He lost it. He was apoplectic. I mean, only for a minute or two but I was shocked by how angry he got over something so minor. Driving in London is…”
“Full of people who cut you off,” he agreed.
“It was a strange reaction but I knew he’d had a busy week. I made excuses for him all the time, even at the beginning. I think to start with he made me feel so good, that when that flipped and he began to enjoy…making me feel bad, I kept telling myself it was out of character. That he was a good guy having a bad day, that he didn’t mean the things he said. It sounds so pathetic.”
“Not at all,” his voice was hoarse.
She lifted her shoulders. Now that she’d opened up to someone, she didn’t want to stop. For months she’d run things through her own mind, with no indication that things were ever going to make sense. To have someone else to discuss this with was somehow liberating.
“It wasn’t like he hit me on the first date, you know? Everything was okay in the beginning, though looking back, it wasn’t. But after about six weeks, he started to make these comments. Nothing awful, but just a bit condescending. Like he’d belittle me to see my reaction. And even when I didn’t really agree with what he’d said, it just undermined my confidence so completely.”
A divot formed between her brows.
“The comments got worse and more frequent, but in between times, he was charming and loving, so I never thought about leaving. If I talked to him about how his behaviour made me feel, he’d gaslight me, telling me I was imagining it or being too sensitive, so I came to doubt all my instincts and reactions.” She shook her head angrily. “It was so easy for him. I let him treat me in a way I’m completely ashamed of.”
“Don’t.” His voice was husky. “You are blameless in this, Maddie. Absolutely blameless.”
It might have been factually accurate but that didn’t make it any easier to believe. “I just wish I’d left him the first time he belittled me; the first time he hit me.”
There was silence and when she looked at Nico she could see that he was trying – and struggling – to contain himself. “Did it happen often?”
She bit down on her lip. “The first time was during an argument. He gambled a bit – or I thought it was a bit but it turned out to be a substantial habit,” a frown pulled at her lips. “He lost a lot of money and I found out by mistake. When I confronted him about it, he slapped me across the cheek.” She lifted her hand, holding the flesh there, the sting so vivid in her memory it could have just happened. “I was shocked. I mean, he had a temper but I honestly didn’t think he was capable of that.” She swallowed, tears stinging the inside of her throat. “He seemed shocked, too. He apologised, explained how stressed he’d been, that his gambling was like a hot-button issue and he just saw red.”
“I see.” His words were strained.
“I know I should have walked. It’s just…hard to accept that someone you care about is capable of that.”
“And he didn’t stop?”
“He did for a couple of weeks. Everything was great. But then I slammed the door when I left his place – I needed to get to my editor’s for a meeting – and he must have fumed about it all night because when I got back that evening he was…livid. It’s so hard to explain what that’s like, watching someone implode, it’s like you’re surrounded by walls of glass and they all shatter simultaneously. You spend so long picking the glass up and trying to stick it back together that you don’t realise how dangerous it is to you. All I cared about was fixing him. I didn’t understand how he could change so much. Except he didn’t change, that’s what he was like all along, he was just better at hiding it initially.”
He crouched in front of her, his face level with hers, and she felt his proximity as some kind of balm. “You know this isn’t your fault?”
“It’s not my fault,” she agreed, but with a shake of her head. “But I hate how long it took me to walk out. Even now, I’m so terrified of him, Nico. I mean, it’s been over six months since I left London but I live in fear of him finding out where I am. The last time – the reason I left him – I honestly felt like he was going to kill me.” A sob surprised her, landing between them, so he brought his head forward and kissed her, swallowing her grief and sadness deep inside of him.
“He is a bastardo, a pathetic excuse for a man. I hate that this has happened to you.”
She nodded. “Me too. Except if it hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t be here in Ondechiara, and we may never have met.”
“I would prefer even this to knowing what he did to you.” He cupped her cheeks, his eyes boring into hers. “You are beautiful and you are strong; you are courageous and kind.”
His words layered over her fractured heart, pouring warmth into the gaps ice had forged.
“Did you go to the police?”
“No.” She pressed her teeth into her lip, her expression showing remorse. “When it first started happening I was so ashamed. I know that’s an awful thing to say. I’ve read so many articles about domestic abuse and I never understood that response but I get it now. It’s like there’s such a dichotomy between the life you lead and the life people think you lead, you almost feel guilty for the truth. I didn’t tell anyone what was really happening. The last time, when he strangled me, I just ran, Nico. I was so scared.” Her voice trembled.
He caught his violent curse beneath his breath even as he brought her head against his chest, holding her close to him, his hands wrapping around her back.
But now that she’d started talking about it, she didn’t know how to stop.
“I thought I was going to die. He’s so much bigger than I am and so strong, and it was just, his hands were so tight and I couldn’t breathe and his eyes were just so filled with coldness. Not even anger anymore, like just cold, ruthless determination. Why? What did I do?”
“Nothing, you did niente, nothing, cara, you
must believe me. There is something wrong with this asshole of a man, not you.”
But her heart splintered because it was impossible not to wonder if Nico would feel differently if he knew exactly who the man in question was.
“It’s too late. I should have taken photos or something, but with no physical proof, no corroborating evidence, it would be my word against his. At the time, getting away was the only thing I cared about. I wasn’t thinking clearly or I probably would have gone to the police. But I was so scared – at the time I felt like he could appear from anywhere, at any time. I knew he’d started to keep tabs on me and I had no idea how extensive that was.”
“You did the right thing,” he soothed, his hands running over her back gently but with a consistent speed so there was reassuring regularity in his touch. “You did the right thing.”
Again, his words seemed to slip inside her and repair something that had been cracked and broken by Michael. She felt his approval and congratulations, his agreement that in that moment, running was all that mattered. She hadn’t known how badly she’d needed that – for someone to support the steps she’d taken.
“He promised he’d get help,” she said softly, shaking her head, but Nico kept holding her, keeping her close to him.
“Men like him are beyond help.” The words were scathing.
“Do you really think so?”
There was a pause. “Si. But I don’t know. I have no experience with this, I’m speaking only as to how my ethics guide me. I cannot imagine ever laying a hand on a woman – it fills me with disgust and anger and an unbearable sense of impotence to imagine you ever being hurt by anyone.”
“Thank you.” She wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for, only it felt appropriate to say the words, and she meant them. This whole experience with Nico had been exactly what her soul required. He’d taken a body that had been hurt and unable to trust and he’d kissed her back to happiness. He’d worshipped her flesh, exalted in her physically and with every touch, she’d become more and more herself again.
“I’m stronger now,” she said seriously, pulling away a bit, looking up at him. “Coming here was important. It helped. But meeting you, Nico…” she shook her head slightly. “I know our situation is just temporary, but you need to know how much you’ve changed me.” Her smile was shy. “I feel like somehow you led me back to myself; like I remember who I really am now. Thank you.”
His eyes flecked with a golden green and creased at the corner as he returned her smile. “My pleasure.”
He couldn’t sleep. He stood inside the doorframe, watching Maddie, her gentle breathing, her soft skin, her slender frame. She was naked beneath the sheet, the outline of her body visible to his gaze. She was petite. Short and slim. Even a man of average build would physically dominate her. But if this man was like Nico? Tall and broad and muscled? It would have been easy to hurt her, to damage her, and knowing that someone had done that made him want to shout at the top of his lungs. How dare anyone lay a hand on her?
Nico wasn’t a violent man. When he’d found out the truth about Claudette and Alexander, he’d been devastated and furious, but he’d spoken calmly to Claudette – all the more so for how angry he’d been.
He couldn’t imagine lashing out at someone physically. At least, he couldn’t have imagined that. But hearing the fear in Maddie’s voice, seeing the pain in her eyes as she recounted her experience, he’d wanted to reach back through time and grab the bastardo around the throat and throw him to the ground. God, he wanted to kill him, whoever he was.
She rolled over in her sleep, spreading her arm out instinctively, reaching for him. He stayed where he was, his body like stone. She stayed asleep, a small smile on her lips. It was only tiny, but it lit something in the pit of his belly.
She said he’d pulled her back together again. But she’d done the same to him. After the Claudette business, he’d been holding himself back from anyone and everyone, on purpose. He’d kept busy, gone through the motions, but done whatever he could to avoid actually connecting with another human.
Until now.
His chest puffed out and a smile lifted his lips, because what they had was good. No, it was great. And it would become impractical, soon enough, and they’d end it, but it wouldn’t be without looking back – he wasn’t foolish enough to believe he could stick to their original script so completely. He’d find it hard to walk away from her; he’d hate leaving her when the time came. He’d do it, because it was best for both of them, but he’d never be like he was before Maddie.
He was different, just like she was. They’d changed each other and he was glad for that.
Chapter 9
“HEY, BOY.” MADDIE reached down, patting the big, loving dog’s head, right between his ears. “Where’s Nico?”
Dante’s ears pricked up and he looked towards the house. Maddie followed his gaze, a small frown on her lips when she saw the door wide open and a couple of pairs of shoes just inside. One was unmistakably feminine.
“He’s got company, huh?” She looked down at the basket she was carrying, the scones she’d made wrapped in a tea towel, and suddenly she felt silly for going to the trouble. It was too much. Not appropriate for their kind of relationship.
Especially after the other night, when he’d guessed some of the truth of her past, and he’d reacted so…beautifully.
Her heart slowed down, thudding in time with Dante’s tail. She hadn’t planned to discuss any of it with Nico. It seemed disingenuous and duplicitous, given that he had no idea who her ex actually was, nor his connection to Michael.
But when he’d guessed what she’d been through, it had felt so good to be truthful with him, at least with regards to her situation. His reaction had meant so much to her. His obvious anger – anger at the man who’d hurt her –was validation that nothing that had happened to her had been right. But there was pride too, pride in the fact Maddie had escaped and was in the process of starting a new life for herself.
Nico was a part of that new life, but not for long, and she definitely didn’t want to intrude on his life more than she already had. If he had company, then she’d leave. Disappointment had her turning more slowly than she should. Her head was bent, her eyes focussed on the ground at her feet, so she didn’t see the little body running towards her at a rate of knots until it was too late. It collided with her legs, knocking her so her ankle caught on an uneven piece of grass and she fell with a loud gasp of surprise.
Past trauma had her brow breaking out in sweat, even as she realised her assailant was about three feet tall, with a mop of dark, curled hair and enormous brown eyes.
Dante came to stand beside her, barking loudly and licking her hand. She stroked his head, smiling reassuringly at the dog. “I’m okay, boy.” She turned to the young child who’d felled her. He wore jeans that had seen better days. There was a hole in one knee and an enormous grass stain on the other, and his shirt had been torn at the chest.
“I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” He asked in Italian, rubbing his head which Maddie realised, belatedly, had taken the full brunt of the collision. It pushed any of her own pain from her mind, though her ankle was beginning to throb in a dull way she suspected would mean it was sprained.
“I’m fine,” she promised. She reached for his head, feeling it for eggs and bumps. He continued to stare at her as she did so. “You are too,” she said confidently. “What in the world were you running from?”
He didn’t say anything. He was silent and transfixed.
“Let me guess,” she murmured, warming to the little boy who must surely be a relative of Nico’s. He was a dead ringer for the man, their eyes so similar she felt as though she knew the child. “There was a tiger after you?”
He laughed, a sweet little noise of innocence and pleasure. “No! There aren’t any tigers at Ondechiara.”
“Are you sure?” she lifted her brows. “Perhaps it was a mermaid then.”
“Mermaids can’t walk.
And besides, they’re not scary. Not unless they’re going to kiss you.” He pulled a face. “Then I’d run.”
“Right. So not a kissing mermaid then. Perhaps it was a pirate, fresh from the caves that run beneath the island?”
His eyes grew wider. “A real pirate?”
“Oh, yes. With dark hats and hooks for hands. Did you see one?”
He shook his head, obviously intrigued.
“What a shame.” She gestured towards her basket. “I baked scones for the pirates. I was hoping to run into them here but instead, I found you. Would you like one?”
“What’s a scone?” He was already moving closer to the basket.
“They’re sort of like bread, but much yummier,” she said, tilting her head to the side. She pushed up off the ground then, or tried to, but had to abort the effort when her ankle sent a sharp spear of pain through her legs. “Hmmm. I’ve hurt my ankle. We might have to have a little picnic here until someone arrives. Where is your mum? Or dad?”
“Inside.” He looked over his shoulder. Curiosity grew.
“Do you know the man who lives here?”
“It’s my Zio.”
“Your uncle?”
He nodded. “Nico.”
“Ah.” She pushed the tea towel back and lifted a scone out. They were soft, straight from the oven. She took the top off and reached for the jam she’d brought, adding a generous amount. It was a gift from the landlady of her cottage and was obviously home made, so big clumps of real strawberries fell onto the scone. To this, Maddie added thick cream, handing the treat to the little boy. His eyes followed her actions and he reached for it without a moment’s hesitation, taking a bite that left a small dab of cream on his nose.
“I like it.” Little crumbs fell from his mouth as he spoke through another big bite, then another. “It’s good.”
“Thank you.” She looked over her shoulder towards the house once more. There was no sign of anyone. “What’s your name?”
“I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name.”
Just This One Summer: A billionaire forbidden love romance... (The Montebellos Book 2) Page 10
