A Ring for Vincenzo's Heir(28)

Vin watched Calabrese rise from the stool, then sashay toward the young  women, his martini glass held high. Vin's stomach churned as his gaze  fell back on his briefcase.   





 

He was nothing like Calabrese, he told himself fiercely. Nothing. Their situations were completely different.

But when Vin left Tokyo that night on his private jet, he couldn't sleep, tossing and turning on the long flight.

When he finally arrived in Rome, the January light was gray. The holidays were over, leaving only the cold comfort of winter.

His driver was waiting to drive him from the airport. When he arrived at the villa, Vin set his jaw, wondering what he'd find.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Vin!" Scarlett appeared at the top of the stairs. Her skin looked pale  against her vibrant red hair, her eyes flashing emerald green. She was  simply dressed in a pale silk blouse and simple trousers, but he was  newly overwhelmed by her beauty. He waited, expecting her anger.

To his surprise, she rushed down the stairs and threw her arms around him.

"I'm so glad you're home," she whispered.

The feel of Scarlett's body against his, the warmth of her, was like  fresh oxygen when he hadn't realized he'd been suffocating. Vin breathed  her in, inhaling the scent of cherry blossoms and soft spring flowers.

She was the one to finally pull away. Her eyes were luminous in the  shadowy foyer. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about our fight. I  was... I was so-" he braced himself "-wrong," she finished quietly. "I  was wrong."

Her admission shocked him. Vin would never have admitted he was wrong about anything. If he ever was. Which he wasn't. "About?"

"New York." She gave him a wobbly smile. "You're right. It's your  company headquarters. What am I going to do-" she gave an awkward laugh  "-demand that hundreds of employees uproot their families and move to  Rome, just because I love it here?" She took a deep breath, then tried  to smile. "I was being selfish. I'm the one who said we should be  partners. So...we should at least talk about it. I still won't take a  plane, but maybe I could take a ship. Isn't marriage about compromise?"

"Yes," he lied.

"But-" Scarlett gave him a shy smile "-I'm sure you want to see the baby..."

"Yes." And he meant it.

Taking his hand, she led him upstairs. Entering the shadowy nursery, Vin  looked down at his sleeping son. He heard the soft snuffle of his  breath, saw the rise and fall of his chest. Nico. His precious boy. He  was here. He was safe. The baby already looked different. He'd grown in  two weeks. Vin hated that he'd been away so long.

Never again.

He looked at Scarlett. There could only be one person in control of his life. His home. His child. And that was Vin.

The ends justified the means, he told himself. Scarlett might hate him at first, but eventually she would thank him.

Or she wouldn't. But either way, he would get his life back. Without the chaos and messy emotion she brought.

All Vin had to do was lull her back into her previous happiness and  trust in him, then once she'd lowered her guard, trick her into signing  the postnuptial agreement, written in Italian, giving him every right  and power over every decision.

Her love for him was her weakness.

As for his own feelings-he would not feel them. They did not exist.

The one who cared least was the one who'd win.

"I missed you, Scarlett." Vin gave her a smile so sensual that she  blushed to her ears. Excellent. "I swear to you on my life," he said  softly, "I'll never let us be apart so long again."

She smiled happily, not knowing his dark intentions. Taking her hand, he  rubbed his thumb lightly against her palm, then kissed it, feeling her  shiver.

Soon, she would be unable to defy him. His decisions would automatically  prevail. She would be forced to get over her ridiculous fear of flying  and travel with him when he wished. It would be good for their family.  And their marriage. A flash of heat went through him as he looked down  at her, at the curve of her white throat, the shape of her full breasts  beneath her silk blouse.

From now on, she would have no choice but to obey. In his home. In his bed. She'd be at his command. Exactly where she belonged.





CHAPTER ELEVEN

SOMETHING HAD CHANGED in Vin. As Scarlett welcomed him back from Tokyo, she couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Their last time in bed together, on Christmas Eve, had been rough and  sensual and explosive. Even when he'd been tender, as he pushed inside  her, his emotion had been raw on his face.

But today, since he'd returned, she felt a distance. Even as he smiled  at her, even as he held her in his arms, even as he leaned down to kiss  her, his dark eyes hinting at untold delights to come later-even then,  there was something hidden behind his expression.   





 

What was he hiding?

Was she imagining it?

She puzzled over it all day as they played with the baby, then got ready  to go out for the evening. When she broached the subject of moving to  New York, he told her he didn't want to discuss it. "Tonight, I just  want to enjoy your company, cara."

They went out that night to his sister's wedding rehearsal dinner at a  charming restaurant not too far from the Piazza Navona. Giuseppe, Joanne  and Maria were delighted when he'd arrived. They'd all missed him, too.  Halfway through the dinner, when Scarlett rose to her feet and publicly  toasted his success with the Mediterranean Airlines deal, everyone at  the table clapped and cheered.

Vin ducked his head, looking embarrassed. After all the work he'd put  into the deal, his boyish humility made her more proud of him than ever.  And love him more than ever.

Finally, after they returned home, after he tucked their sleeping baby  into his crib, he took Scarlett to bed, too. She relished the warmth of  him, the strength of him, the feel of him beside her.

She'd missed him for those two weeks.

It scared her how much she needed him now.

This time, as Vin made love to her, he held her gently, tenderly,  looking deeply into her eyes. But his own eyes were carefully blank.

He touched her as if his fingertips wished to tell her everything he  could not put into words. She tried to guess. He was sorry? He regretted  their fight-which had been so awful, so brutal to her heart? That he  hadn't lied when he said he loved her?

He made her body explode with ecstasy as he poured into her with a  groan, then afterward he held her all night, snugly against his chest,  in a way he'd never done before.

Cradled against him, with his strong arms around her, Scarlett felt  protected. She decided she was imagining things, creating problems where  they didn't exist. They were husband and wife. They were partners in  life. They were in love.

She woke up smiling for the first time in two weeks. She heard a morning  bird singing outside and stretched, yawning, every bit of her body  feeling deliciously satisfied. How could she be anything other than  happy? Vin was home at last. And today was Maria's wedding day.

Whatever conflicts arose between her and Vin, they'd work through them.  Maybe they'd live in Rome for half the year, New York the other half.

She looked over at his side of the bed, but it was empty.

Scarlett started to get out of bed in her negligee, when she heard the  bedroom door kick open. Startled, she saw Vin, wearing only a towel  wrapped around his trim waist, holding a breakfast tray with a rose in a  small bud vase.

"You brought me breakfast?" Scarlett said in surprise. "But you must be exhausted. You traveled so long yesterday..."

"Exactly. I left you here alone to take care of Nico and my sister's  wedding and all the rest. It's time I took care of you for a change."  His dark eyes crinkled as he smiled, setting the tray on her lap, over  the white comforter.

"By the way," he said casually as he turned away, "I've left some papers on the tray for you to sign. They're under the rose."

Frowning, Scarlett looked down. "What kind of papers?"

"No big deal." He shrugged. "Just to officially mark that you are my wife. For the Italian authorities."

She glanced at the top sheet. It was written in Italian and did seem to  say something about being his wife. But her Italian language skills, in  spite of her recent study, weren't strong enough to sort through the  indecipherable legalese. She hesitated. "My dad always said only a fool  signs something he doesn't understand. I should get it translated before  I sign it."

"Sure, whatever you want," he said carelessly as he left the room. A  minute later, he returned with a carafe. Coming back to the bed, he  poured steaming coffee into a china cup, adding liberal amounts of cream  and sugar, then put it on her tray, smiling down at her tenderly. "From  now on, I'm going to take better care of you. Treat you like you  deserve. Like a princess. Like a queen."

Looking up at him, Scarlett's heart twisted with love.

"Enjoy your breakfast, cara." He cracked a sudden grin. "I'm going to  take a shower. Feel free to join me if you're feeling-" he lifted a  teasing eyebrow "-dirty."