Bound by the Italian's Contract(62)

                She shook her head violently. “It doesn’t matter.”

                He gave her one terse shake. “It matters to me. Is there a connection between your attack and your aversion to remaining here?”

                Her gaze lowered, her skin paling. “There isn’t one.”

                He swore roundly again. “I don’t believe you. You have seen him here, perhaps have spoken with him. Is he a guest? Employee? Someone who lives in the village? Tell me.”

                “Stop it, Luciano. What happened was in the past. Let it go.”

                His palms cupped her face, holding her still, as he kissed the tears from her cheeks. “I will not give up until you tell me his name.”

                Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. “It was Mario.”

                “Mario Godolphin?” he asked, and at her nod, he dropped his hold on her, fingers bunched into fists, his rage towering higher than the mountains. “I’ll kill him.”

                “No!” She gripped his wrists, complexion growing deathly pale. “Please, Luciano, I want that entire ugly night to remain forgotten.”

                “Why? You’ve never forgotten it,” he said. “Even if you had, Mario laid his filthy hands on you. He hurt you. Now he must pay for those actions.”

                She tipped her head back and growled low in her throat. “It is his word against mine and I refuse to go into battle with a man who will deliberately make me look like I pursued him,” she said, hysteria rising in her voice. “That publicity is too humiliating to face, let alone endure.”

                He combed his fingers though his hair and swore, sickened that he’d failed another person he cared about. If there was a chance he could make this right for her... If he could undo a wrong and bring someone to justice, he damned well would.

                “You can’t let him get away with this violation,” he said.

                “It is my choice to make,” she said, voice cracking.

                Had she ever felt this raw and exposed and rigorously furious? No, not even after the rape, after she’d fled home to Colorado, after she’d gone through weeks of worry until she was certain she wasn’t pregnant.

                This time she wasn’t just fighting for her sanity and career. She was fighting for her independence, even though that hard-won gem might sever her from Luciano forever. But the business deal she struck with him and their affair would end soon anyway. She had to take this stand.

                “Don’t you see that if I deny anything happened between us, it diminishes Mario’s hold over me?” she asked, desperate for him to understand her fears and phobias. “It gives me the power to choose.”

                He stared at her a long hard moment before he stalked to the window and stood with his broad back to her, which for all the world seemed an impenetrable wall. She resisted the impulse to cross to him and wrap her arms around his waist.

                “What can I do to make this right for you?” he asked.

                If only he could... “I need to know if Mario’s firm is vital to la Duchi Royal.”

                He pulled a dark face. “It is true he’s been the exclusive architect on all my projects.”

                She pressed a hand to her queasy stomach, her blood chilling. “He’ll continue working with you then, right here.”