To think that a short week ago she'd thought the very worst of him. She had thought him cold and calculating and callous. She'd thought him incapable of any tender emotions.
Now she was certain that he hid those softer traits from the world. Just the stroke of his finger brought her to extreme pleasure or tears of joy.
She wasn't one to cry-she'd cried out her tears long ago when her mother had been dying and she had blamed herself for not coming forward sooner. She'd vowed she'd give of herself again if she was fortunate to have the opportunity to save a life.
When that moment came, she hadn't hesitated going through the tests and the procedure for a stranger. She'd do it again if she could.
But though her heart had gone out to those in need, she'd never given so emotionally until she found herself in Stefano's arms.
She'd never known love until now.
He shifted, and just that slight brush of skin on skin was a seductive caress that stroked her desire awake again. It seemed unreal that she wanted more of what they'd shared not once but four times tonight.
It stunned her that she'd totally lost her heart to Stefano Marinetti. They were worlds apart, yet they'd found a common ground. Or was it just passion that bound them together?
She didn't like hearing that voice of doubt in her head. No man could make love to her with such tenderness and compassion if his heart wasn't involved.
And what about the job he had created just for her?
Hadn't he done that so they could spend the bulk of their time together? Wasn't that a clear sign that he wanted her to be a big part of his life?
As his mistress, not as his wife.
She grimaced at that, for she feared it hit too closely to the truth she didn't want to face.
Personal assistant had a far more respectable ring to it than paid consort.
Besides, if Stefano only wanted her as his mistress, he'd have said so. He wouldn't have created a mock position for her within his company.
No, the job was as real as the man. This was a sign he trusted her to manage his personal affairs. That had to include his family. And if it didn't? If she was just seeing what she wanted to see?
"What brought this troubled frown to your face?" he asked, placing a kiss on one eye and then another in a gesture so tender it brought tears to her eyes.
"I was thinking about family."
"There is not room for family in our bed, caro," he said, the nip he gave her chin releasing a deeper need in her.
She lifted her face to protest this sensual assault that was muddling her thoughts. Their lips clung in one long, delicious kiss that blotted everything from her mind but him. It was so easy to fall into his arms and forget the world.
But she fought against the drugging effects of his desire and pulled from him. "We need to talk, Stefano."
He grumbled and rolled onto his back, tossing one arm across his eyes. "Talk is the last thing I wish to do now."
Yes, one glance at his beautifully aroused body told her what he wanted-what he needed from her. "I hope that you will realize Rachel should live with you."
His muscular body tensed. Even the air seemed more charged than before as unease pinged over her bare skin to mock her nakedness. She'd bared all to him, even her soul. Yet he'd still held a part back from her.
"We have been over this before, bella," he said. "If my father had wanted the world to know about Rachel he would have exposed her long ago. Instead he kept her tucked away in Milan where she is safe from a world she is ill-equipped to cope with."
She pulled the sheet around her, chilled by his refusal to consider a change of plans. "At first, yes, when her condition was so fragile. But Cesare did have a change of heart!"
She knew the moment the words popped out that there was no going back. The tension she'd sensed in him throbbed between them.
He sat up in one fluid motion. Though he looked semirelaxed, she knew that he could pounce on her in the blink of an eye.
"When?" he asked in that low, dangerous tone that skimmed along her nerves to leave her chilled.
For all the deep intimacies they'd just shared, she felt as if her soul was exposed. The fear of revealing everything only to incur his fury tempted her to lie, but there had been too many lies and half-truths between them already.
"The last Saturday we visited Rachel, Cesare told me that he wanted to bring her home," she said, beginning slowly so she could emotionally feel her way thorough this confession.
"To Viareggio."
If it were that simple … "To his house."
"Mamma would never have allowed that to happen!"
"Few women would welcome their husband's love child," she said. "But he was determined to make her see reason."
She dreaded to imagine the bitter words that had been volleyed between Cesare and his wife when he'd confessed his infidelity and then declared that he'd fathered a daughter that he wished to ensconce in their home. No wonder he'd suffered a heart attack!
"It is beyond the scope of reason why he would ask such a thing of my mother."
"Family," she said, stating the obvious. "He wanted his children united. He wanted his family whole."
"A wasted effort," Stefano said. "Mamma wasn't the forgiving sort."
"Like you?"
"Yes, like me."
"Then why are you insisting on managing Rachel's care when Cesare entrusted her to me?"
He whirled on her then, eyes snapping anger and something that bordered on vulnerability. "She is a Marinetti."
She threw her hands in the air, having come full circle in this argument with him. "You assert that she's family yet you don't want her in your life. That isn't fair to her, Stefano, and it isn't what Cesare wants."
He snorted and sat up, his long legs dangling over the edge of the bed and his broad, muscular back racked with tension. Every tender touch, each kiss, seemed as if it happened a lifetime ago instead of mere minutes.
"It is clear that my father spared no expense to hire a bambinaia and provide a safe home for my sister," he said. "So why the change of heart? When did he come to this decision to insert Rachel into his home?"
"He spoke of it often after Rachel's last visit to the doctor." In fact Cesare had been obsessed with the idea of having his daughter near him.
Stefano crossed to the window and peered out, and the setting sun poured through the window to dust his muscular frame in rose-gold. Her heart seized at the sight, for not one statue of a god in all of Italy could compare to his potent masculinity and rugged male beauty.
"Every time you and Papa went to Milan, my mamma would call me and complain bitterly of his infidelity."
"Why didn't she confront him?" she asked.
One bronzed shoulder lifted in a shrug. "An affair or two is expected in a marriage."
"I wouldn't be tolerant of infidelity," she said, needled by the sudden sting of jealousy at the thought of sharing Stefano with another woman.
"Nor would I," he admitted, surprising her. "I am faithful to my lover and demand the same."
She slipped from the bed and crossed to him, refusing to think that this synergy she shared with him would come to an end. "I'd never betray you."
"Bella." He brushed a finger over her lips that still trembled from his possession, lips that quivered from holding back the last truth that seemed too large and ugly to reveal. "It was for the best that Mamma never knew about Rachel."
She sucked in a ragged breath and met his slumberous eyes, knowing that what she had to say would turn his eyes black with disapproval again. But she couldn't continue to keep secrets between them, not now.
"She did know." She expected an immediate reaction and she got it.
He grabbed her arms then pulled her so close that she breathed the same charged air as he. "I don't believe you. Mamma would have told me if she'd known about Rachel."
"I'm sure she would have if she'd had time," she said, and rested a hand over his heart. "Cesare told her everything."
He shook off her gesture of comfort and prowled the room with long, angry strides. "When?"
"He unburdened his soul to her in the car on the way to their favorite restaurant in Tuscany." She crossed her arms over herself when he simply stared holes in her naked body. "He said they fought bitterly, that she flew into a rage the likes of which he'd never seen before."
He slammed the flat of his hand against the wall. "How could he think she would not react violently to such news?"
She shook her head, certain that Cesare hadn't thought his confession through. But then he hadn't known that his health would suddenly fail him, either.