“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last.
“Why? You’ve done nothing wrong,” he said. “You’re the one wronged by me and an old friend, damn his soul.”
“It was partly my fault. I knew better, but I did it anyway,” she said. “Let it go, Luciano. Retaliation isn’t the answer.”
“This is not your decision to make.”
Panic stabbed through her like fallen icicles piercing the snow. “Isn’t it? Your name is golden. It can withstand bad press. Mine can’t, not when I’m so close to launching my program worldwide.”
He fisted his hands at his sides, jaw rigid. “I can’t let this go. He’s hurt you because I failed you. A revelation of this scope could protect innocents, or at the very least shine light on his crime. And you are tied to me through our mutual contract. If he besmears our names, my attorneys will have him tied up in legalities in an hour or less.”
She grabbed a breath, frustration pinching her soul, wanting this lifted from her conscience. He was right and she hated him for it. She wasn’t selfish. The truth could protect women from Mario, but the consequences of having everyone know her own personal nightmare scared her to death.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face this,” she said honestly.
“You aren’t,” he said, stepping closer, his strong arms coming around her. “Not alone. I’ll be with you. Yes, there will be gossip tossed about, but I promise it will not have any ill effect on your lodge.”
She rested her forehead on his chest, but his heat couldn’t thaw the deep chill invading her soul. “How can you possibly promise that?” she asked, her deep fears sleeping just under the surface.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, her eyes, and nuzzled her head up to brush his lips over hers once, twice. “We will marry. He wouldn’t dare sully your name then.”
“What?” she squeaked, too stunned to make sense of his out-of-the-blue proposal. “You don’t love me.”
“Love,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Our marriage would be a contract. You’d be under my protection with full access to a battery of la Duchi attorneys.”
He was offering another business arrangement, only this one with sex. It certainly wasn’t a marriage and wasn’t for her, simply because love wasn’t involved and never would be, at least not mutually. His heart would never be hers because he’d given it to his wife long ago, and she had taken it with her to her grave.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“I failed to protect you the first time.”
“I wasn’t yours to protect,” she said.
Not that his reasons or rationale mattered. There wouldn’t be a sham marriage for her. She would have to be crazy or desperate or both to put herself through an emotional hell that would take her years to recover from. If she ever recovered.
“Bella, be reasonable.”
“No! I refuse to marry under those circumstances,” she said and headed for the door and fresh air. Freedom.
She would rather be alone and in control of her life than enter into a marriage of convenience.