Innocent in the Italian's Possession(17)

"Come. We'll join the audience, but you must remain quiet," he said. "Any disruption will have you removed."

She glared at him for the longest time with nothing short of hatred.  With a huff, she turned and strode down the hall, back impossibly rigid.

Fine. He would rather she hate him; he could deal with that better than  coping with the desire and empathy she'd stirred to life in him earlier.  If she raised a ruckus, she'd find herself hustled from the room.

It would only make the tension between them all the more stronger later  when they sat down to business. Yes, they were waging their own high  stakes games. But he would win.

He could make her want him. He could make her wild with desire. He would have his vengeance!

Because he intended to blackmail her into his bed? His cheeks burned, a rarity to be sure.

But for all his shrewd business sense, he'd never mistreated a woman in  his life. Never! Not even the one he'd brought home to meet his parents  and who set her sights on his brother.

But that anger that always roared to life failed to come.

In its place was a new emotion. Stronger. More volatile.

This business between him and Gemma had meaning. This fired his blood.

This was archaic thinking. It was something he'd never done and never thought to do with a woman.

But he couldn't back down. Not now. Not when the scent of her filled his  senses, when the brief kiss they'd shared inflamed his desire.

"Marinetti," he told the guard at the door.

The man nodded and stepped aside without a word.

Gemma hesitated, but Stefano's hand to her back hurried her inside. A row of plush chairs cast in shadow faced the tables.

She eased onto a chair and stared at him with eyes that were too huge  and too filled with an emotion he couldn't grasp. The deep sense of hurt  that dimmed her eyes charged the tension-filled air and raised the hair  at his nape.

"Call," said the Russian mogul playing against Cardone.

The last chips where thrust forward. The cards revealed. Cardone lost.

She looked at Stefano and asked in a whisper, "Is it over?"

He nodded in answer, and her narrow shoulders bowed. In fact her entire body seemed to cave in on itself.

Damn her brother for doing this to her. Then he damned himself for  letting her get to him. For wanting to take her in his arms and comfort  her.

"All players must purchase the required chips before the start of the next game."

Cardone pushed from the table and stalked to the bank, a trip he'd  undoubtedly made countless times. "I have title to property. Will you  take that as surety for a stake in the next game?"

"Yes, if you have it with you."

"What is he doing?" Gemma said, her tension so acute Stefano felt it abrading his nerves.

Cardone produced a document and handed it to the bank. "The inn on Manarolo is in good condition and makes a modest profit."

The bank took the paper. "One moment to verify this, sir."

"No! He doesn't own the inn." She rushed to her brother, drawing all eyes to her.

Stefano followed on her heels, wanting to believe that Gemma had lied  all along about the ownership of the inn. But her reaction was too  genuine to be staged.

She was shocked by her brother's actions to the point of hysteria.

Cardone whirled on her then, eyes widening with surprise before narrowing in anger. "What are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from making a mistake," she said. "How did you get Nonna's shares of the inn?"

Her brother let out a smug laugh. "Nonna is already heart-broken that you lost your half of the inn to Marinetti."

"You told her about that?" she asked, her voice dropping to a choked whisper.

"Of course. She signed over her half of the inn to me, the family who has stayed by her side this past year."

"The family who is about to gamble away our heritage!" She clasped  trembling hands over her mouth and stared at her brother as if he were a  stranger. "What are you thinking? The inn is your home. It's our  family's livelihood. You live there. Your wife works with Nonna and  affords you a modest income off the guests."

"Peasant wages," Cardone spat. "I want more for my family and myself."  He flicked a damning glower at Stefano. "I want the kind of life your  rich boss enjoys."                       
       
           



       

"Then work for it!"

"Trust me in this, mio serella," Cardone said to Gemma, the endearment  sounding false to Stefano's ears. "When I win this pot you'll never have  to bow and scrape for a milionario again," he said, inclining his head  Stefano's way. "You would be independently wealthy."

"You can't risk our home," she said, and Stefano realized the source of her fear.

He owned her shares now, and if her brother sold his, then their family  would be cast out on the street. The inn that had been handed down from  generation to generation would be lost.

Cardone grasped Gemma's upper arms and drew her close. Her startled gasp  touched something inside Stefano, something that smacked of jealousy.  Something that spurred him to protect her any way he could.

He just barely stayed the urge to shove Cardone aside and take Gemma  into his arms. Just barely. And that admission enraged him for he had  just proven he was no better than his father around her.

"Your home," Cardone repeated, the biting sarcasm in his voice hushing  those in the room again. "You would do anything to hold on to that  crumbling pile of stones, even sell yourself to an old man."

"Apologize to the lady," Stefano said, barely restraining himself from physically hauling Cardone outside and laying into him.

Never mind he had accused Gemma of the same thing. He had not voiced such crudities in public.

"Defending her?" Cardone asked, setting his sister aside.

"In this attack? Sì."

Which made no sense because Stefano had wanted to publicly humiliate  her. He'd wanted to ruin her and recover as much of his father's  property and money as he could.

Cardone sneered at Gemma. "You go from doting on one Marinetti to the other and turn your back on your brother."

"You don't want my help. You just want what money I can spare so you can toss it away on the turn of a card."

She turned to Stefano but didn't look him in the eyes, seeming shamed  and weary and oh so vulnerable. "Please, take me away from here. I can't  bear to watch anymore."

This was his chance to walk away and complete her humiliation. This was  the time to put her in her place once and for all and defend his  family's honor.

Honor.

To an Italian, honor was everything. But the timing felt wrong. This wasn't the place or time.

"The title is verified," the bank said to Cardone.

"Take her away from here," Cardone said, then turned to accept the casino's offer.

Nobody noticed Gemma's distress and obvious depression. Nobody but Stefano.

"I'll give you five hundred thousand euros for the title," Stefano said,  doing this for himself for he had no desire to have a stranger as his  partner.

It had nothing to do with Gemma's crushing defeat. Nothing to do with  revenge. He did not want to feel anything for this woman but disgust.  She'd all but stolen from his father, yet she portrayed the injured  party so well now that he almost sympathized with her.

Cardone smirked and snatched the title from the bank. "I accept your offer, Marinetti."

"Think of what this will do to Nonna," Gemma said, her voice rough with emotion now.

But Cardone merely shrugged. "Perhaps the new owner will allow her to stay on there, if given the proper incentives."

And again Stefano wanted to throttle the man for his crude innuendoes  hurled at Gemma in public. It went without saying that the old woman  could live out her days in her home. But he refused to comment now.

Far too much had been said already.

A quiet hum resumed in the room with gamblers taking their places for  the next game. He caught the questioning look in his friend's eye, but  didn't attempt to engage in conversation.

This wasn't the time.

He wanted out of here before he truly did lose his temper with Cardone.  Just one more insult to Gemma was all it would take, and wasn't that a  thorn for Stefano to contend with?

The transaction went swiftly with Cardone signing his name with a flourish and Gemma standing stiff and solemn beside Stefano.

He tucked the title in his suit pocket then pressed a hand to her back. "It is time to leave, bella."

She simply nodded and walked out with her head high.

He caught himself admiring her pride in the face of such adversity.

It was over. He owned the inn now.

But he felt no victory. Not yet.

He controlled what she wanted most. The inn. The question was what would she agree to do to gain back the title.





CHAPTER SEVEN




SHE shouldn't have left Monte Carlo with Stefano. She should've taken the train back home.

Home.