"That's when the blinding pain hit him and he lost control of the car." She met his furious gaze and hoped he'd one day understand this. "When he woke, he learned he'd suffered a heart attack."
"He phoned you," Stefano said, his voice flat and hard.
She nodded. "From the hospital. He told me everything and begged me to protect Rachel."
"As well as guard his secrets?"
"Yes. He was afraid you would react worse than his wife if you knew."
"It's no wonder he is not improving," Stefano said. "He is mired in deep guilt over her death."
She wrung her hands together, wanting to reach out to him, wanting to offer him comfort, but she knew he'd not take it. Not now when his emotions were scraped raw again.
"He'll never forgive himself for what happened," she said. "So you will have to."
"And I would do this because?"
"Because he's your father. Because only a selfish bastard could be that indifferent toward his family."
He frowned, a fierce drawing of his brows that signaled he was far from accepting the truth. "What if I am, bella?"
It was a question Stefano had asked himself many times the past ten years. There had been many occasions when his mamma had phoned him, begging him to return to Marinetti.
He'd ignored her pleas just as he had avoided her repeated attempts to get him married.
Stefano had no desire for a wife or children at this point in his life. Perhaps one day when this inner drive for success abated.
Women were like water in his hands. His affairs never lasted long, for they all wanted more from him than he was willing to give.
Which made this tête-à-tête with Gemma short-lived at best.
Already they were clashing over how he should live his life! But he was also looking forward to the explosion of passion when they made peace.
But how could he think of that now? Gemma was tied neatly up in his father's lies. Yes, she'd done so out of loyalty to Cesare and his sister. But they were still lies!
"I don't believe you are as self-centered as you imagine yourself to be," she said at last.
He merely offered a wan smile. "Think what you will. I always put business first."
She shook her head. "You returned to tend to your father's business while he is recovering."
"Bella, my father will never manage Marinetti again," he said.
"Yes, I realize that now, but when you first agreed to lend him a hand-"
He placed a finger over her mouth to shush her. "I am not the prodigal son welcomed back into the family fold. My father suffered a heart attack and knew the situation was dire. He knew he couldn't continue and perhaps didn't have the heart to try after Mamma's death. That's why he called me, for he knew if I ever returned I'd assume control of Marinetti Shipyard."
Her face leached of color, but there was a glint in her eyes that hinted of lofty hopes. "You still have the obligation of family. Your father. Your sister."
"Do not imbue me with your character traits," he said. "I would see that both are well cared for to the best of my ability, and if that means bringing my sister and her bambinaia into my father's house, then so be it. But I won't sacrifice my life to do so."
"I haven't sacrificed to see that my family was cared for," she said.
"Haven't you?"
The question hung between them like an icy sheet. "If I did make some concessions, it was expected of me to care for my nonna and my younger brother."
He glared at her, angry she wasn't seeing herself in the same martyr's light as he. "What will you give the next time your family needs you? An arm? Perhaps an eye or kidney?"
"Stop it! I didn't sell my bone marrow," she said.
"No, but the end result was the same."
She let out a weary sigh. "Please, don't just move Rachel into your house and feel you've done the right thing. Make her part of your life. You won't regret it."
He wasn't so sure. How the hell would a sister and a young one at that fit into his hectic life? She wouldn't.
In fact his bachelor life was ill-suited for an impressionable young lady. But Gemma didn't see that part of the problem.
She likely saw herself still having a hand in his sister's life, carrying on as his papa had bade her to do. It was a pattern she fell into too easily. She took other peoples' lives to heart at the expense of her own.
"When did you give up on yourself?" he asked her, and before she could reply, added, "Was it when you blamed herself for your mamma's death?"
"I've not given up," she said. "I have dreams and aspirations."
"Tell me."
"I want to see the inn prosper again."
He made a cutting motion with his hand. "That's business. I'm talking about your personal life. What do you want to have two years from now?"
Their eyes met, and he read the love in hers before she looked away. "My own family."
Just as he'd thought.
Stefano couldn't expect her to remain his mistress forever.
She deserved marriage. Family.
She could be the one.
It'd been years since he'd let anyone get close to him. Especially a lover.
Gemma wasn't like his sister-in-law.
She was sweet. Amorous. Generous to a fault.
His sister adored her. His papa trusted her.
Could Stefano do no less?
He crossed to the en suite bathroom and paused at the door, glancing back at her and feeling his body stir with hunger. "We make port within the hour. Care to join me in the shower?"
That brought color blooming in her cheeks again. "I'll pass in favor of a few more minutes' sleep."
He smiled at the cause of her weariness and proceeded to enjoy a hot shower alone. Perhaps that was for the best. He was moving quickly with Gemma, but then he saw no reason to dawdle.
The sooner he got her ensconced in his home, the sooner he could get down to managing the two businesses. He certainly had a surfeit of that to attend to today.
Yet as the hot water pounded the tension from his shoulders and back, he found himself dreaming of the night to come with Gemma snuggled in his arms.
No woman had ever captivated him so. He'd been wrong to force her to be his mistress. She deserved more than that and he would damn well see that she got it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GEMMA stepped into the salon and froze at the sight of Stefano giving rapid-fire orders over the phone. He'd dressed for the office, and with the copy machine and facsimile machines spitting out pages and his computer screen lit up, it was clear he'd started work before the sun rose.
The precision-fitted lines of his Armani suit could have served as armor, for he looked unapproachable. Invincible.
It was like stepping back to that first day he had taken over Marinetti Shipyard. The change in him from her passionate lover of the night to this ruthless businessman was dramatic.
The mesmerizing eyes that had glowed with passion were hard and calculating. The mouth that had moved over her body with erotic abandon was pulled into a tense line. Instead of greeting her with a smile or word, he simply nodded.
She had no idea if he was negotiating a major deal or grappling fast to stave off a catastrophe. Or an emergency?
Her heart stuttered as the most obvious reason for his anxiety crossed her mind. His father's tenuous condition. Mio Dio, please not that!
"What's wrong?" she asked when he finally ended the call, fearing his father had taken a turn for the worse. "Is Cesare all right?"
"Papa's condition hasn't changed."
She breathed a bit easier but not for long. Stefano's austere mood left her wary.
Whatever business deal he was engaged in had his full attention. She certainly pitied his opponent for it was clear Stefano was out to win.
"When will we make port?" she asked as she helped herself to cappuccino.
"In thirty minutes."
That still gave her over an hour to visit her flat and collect her mail, something she hadn't been able to do in days. "Can you spare me this morning? I have some business I need to attend to."
"Take all the time you want." He held his coffee cup in a punishing grip and scanned a paper, seeming distracted and harried. "I won't be needing you as my assistant after all."
"Excuse me?" She set her cup down with a clatter though her insides shattered in a million pieces. "What are you talking about?"
"I have given our situation much thought and decided you are right," he said. "Rachel needs a solid home environment. Since you have a close rapport with her, it seems fitting that we make a suitable home life together."
Had he gone mad? They'd just spent another night in each other's arms. He'd been more relaxed and playful than she'd ever seen him before. And now …