Innocent in the Italian's Possession(18)

       
           



       
She didn't have a home any longer, just a flat in Viareggio. She'd let her nonna down in the worst possible way.

What would happen next?

Gemma had to ask Stefano about his plans for the inn. For if he intended  to sell it, there was the slim chance she could still secure a loan  from the bank.

It was a slim thread to hang onto as she sat beside him in the  helicopter, the lights of the casino fading as they flew out over the  Ligurian Sea that lay black and fathomless at night. If only that  emotionally draining scene with Emilio in the poker room would diminish  as well.

But it didn't. It remained clear and garish.

She'd failed to help her brother. In fact she didn't know how to reach  him anymore. She didn't know if she had the heart to try, and that only  heaped more guilt on her already tired shoulders.

Emilio knew exactly what she'd done to get the money to refurbish the  inn, yet he twisted the truth into something ugly. He insinuated that  she had been Cesare's mistress and that she was now Stefano's lover.

She hadn't even had the heart to deny it for what good would it have  done? Stefano hadn't said anything in his defense, either, just stared  at her with those dark, smoldering eyes like he had right before he'd  kissed her.

Mio Dio, even hours later she could still taste him on her tongue. Still  feel the steely strength in the arms that had held her close. Still  remember the evidence of his desire against her belly.

Oh, yes, they had given the gossips plenty of fodder to feed on this  night. She just hoped news of it wouldn't reach Cesare soon.

The day for his open-heart surgery had arrived. The last thing he needed was the stress caused by these vicious lies.

Stress.

Her life was a total disaster now. She'd never felt this adrift. This  separated from everything she'd known and loved and trusted.

She wanted to know what Stefano's plans were for the inn. But even with  the headphones, the roar of the blades dissuaded conversation.

So she held her thoughts and fears to herself and settled in for the  long ride back to Viareggio. That thought had barely crossed her mind  when she spotted the lights of a big ship dead ahead. The helicopter  circled it once and then began descending.

Her mind ran away with dire reasons why Stefano would set down in the  middle of the sea. And wasn't this dangerous to attempt at night?

Never mind he was landing on a small cruise ship. He was doing so nearly blind at night.

Before she could work herself into a full-blown panic, he'd landed the  helicopter. Her heart stopped its frantic pounding so she could hear him  speaking to someone over his radio.

She immediately thought of Cesare. "Is something wrong?" she asked before they both removed their headphones.

"It is late and I didn't wish to fly back to Viareggio tonight when my yacht was so close by."

She stared out on the deck of the large ship. "This huge boat is yours?"

He slid her a devilish grin that had her seeing him as a desirable man  instead of the man who'd just gained control of all she held dear. A  very handsome man with an odd glint in his eyes that roused her  suspicions.

If he thought she'd tumble into bed with him now, he was sorely  mistaken. There had to be plenty of rooms on board. Hopefully there was  one far from his domain.

"This is the starship of my new fleet," he said with pride ringing clear  in his tone. "I can work from here as easily as I can on land."

"Have you done that often?" she said in an attempt to make idle conversation.

"Many times of late. Come."

He stepped from the helicopter and rounded it to assist her down. An odd  thing to do since there were plenty of men who had jumped to attend to  the helicopter and its billionaire pilot.

A refreshing breeze greeted her as she crossed the deck with her hand tightly clasped in Stefano's. Possessive. Sensual.

The last sensation thrummed her nerves in an erotic melody she couldn't  deny. She didn't want to feel anything toward him but animosity.

Though she was helpless to stop the swift stab of desire, hell would  surely freeze over before she acted upon it. With that thought in mind,  she was able to draw a decent breath as he led her belowdecks.

If Gemma didn't know better, she'd swear she'd just entered a sunken  palace. Marble floors and pillars, plush Brussels carpets that her feet  sank into, crystal light fixtures that caught the light and reflected it  back in a rich rainbow of color.

Servants rushed to attend to Stefano's needs but he waved them off. "I  need nothing more tonight," he said as he tugged Gemma down a hall and  into a large suite.

"It's gorgeous," she said as she took in the massive stateroom.                       
       
           



       

The lighting was subdued. The furnishing modern yet masculinely opulent.

"This is the salon where we meet clients." He crossed to a bar. "May I get you something?"

This was one of those occasions when she needed alcohol.

"Chianti, please."

Stefano obliged and handed her a glass. "I imagine you are close to exhaustion."

"It's been an extremely taxing day."

He nodded agreement. "But there is one more bit of business I wish to discuss now."

The inn. She was sure of it.

He had her where he could punish and torment her and they both knew it.  It was a matter of how much blood he wanted from her for not confiding  in her personal affairs.

She drank her wine too fast and felt a wave of dizziness engulf her.  "Very well," she said in her most businesslike tone. "What is it that is  so urgent?"

"I gather the inn means a great deal to you."

"More than it could possibly mean to you. I want the opportunity to buy  it back," she said, her chin lifting for the argument she was sure would  come.

"Fine," he said so quickly she nearly reeled. "I have no wish to delve into the hotel business at any level."

"Then why did you buy Emilio's shares?" she asked.

He poured an equal amount of wine in his glass and took a sip. "Because I  didn't want a third party to have any say over my plans for the inn."

His answer left her more confused than before. "You just said you had no wish to manage an inn."

"I don't. But I didn't want to divide the shares, either."

A fact she appreciated even though it forced her to appeal to him solely now. "Then do you agree to sell the inn to me?"

His firm lips curved into that wicked smile again. "Selling is a lengthy process I'd prefer avoiding."

"I planned to get a loan-"

He raised a hand and she fell silent. "I don't want money, bella. I want you."

"What do you mean?" she asked, though she feared she knew where this was leading.

"I want you to be my mistress."

She set the glass down though she was tempted to hurl it at his hard head. "I won't prostitute myself for you or anyone."

One devilishly dark eyebrow lifted in mock questioning. "Not even for sole ownership of your inn on Manarolo?"

Damn him! "I can get a loan and pay you-"

"Don't bother," he said. "You will not work for Marinetti beyond another month."

"You're firing me?"

He shrugged. "I am extending you one offer, bella. In addition to your  duties as my personal secretary, I want you to be my mistress for one  month."

"You're vile."

"Think what you like. In exchange for your companionship for one month,  I'll give you the title to the inn on Manarolo free and clear."

She hadn't thought she could hate him more than she did at this second,  but a fury like she'd never felt before surged through her. She wanted  to pummel his chest, kick him. She wanted to walk out of his life and  never look back.

But he had her in a vulnerable position.

Unless she was willing to break her promise to Cesare, or see her inn  sold to a stranger and her nonna displaced, she had no choice but to  agree to Stefano's outrageous demands. The fact that her body did  respond to the power and erotic pulse of his was moot-and if she told  herself that enough, just maybe she'd believe it.

The cold fact remained that he was dangling the prize before her eyes.  All she had to do to gain her heart's desire was be his mistress.

She wouldn't have to like it. She just had to lay there and suffer his touch for a month.

As if his touch would bring her anything but pleasure the likes she'd never known before!

"I want it in writing," she said, disgusted her voice trembled. "I won't sleep with you until then."

A muscle tensed in his lean cheek and she braced herself for an  argument. "Agreed. It is after all a solid business proposition."

It was a personal proposition to settle a vendetta, to bend her to his  will because he simply could. Because he believed she had been his  father's mistress first and had bled Cesare of his fortune. What would  happen when the truth did come out?