Mistress By Blackmail(67)

“What?”

“I want to get married to Viola.” He peeked at her, his eyes filled with a surprising emotion.

“You’ve fallen in love with her?”

“Yep.”

“Matt.” She leapt into his arms once more, smiling into his face. “I'm so happy for you.”

“I wish I could say the same for you,” he sighed. But a grin slowly crossed his face. “Ah, Darcy. You can't believe how happy I am.”

“Stay away from her.” The growl rolled straight through them. Before she could turn and find out what was going on, she was yanked from Matt's arms. Then pushed behind a man whose whole body screamed masculine outrage.

“What the hell?” Matt's face filled with stunned disbelief as he looked at his older brother. “Are you crazy?”

Darcy sensed the force of Marc's fury and reached out, touching his back, trying to soothe him. Before she could find any words to reassure him, though, he’d lifted his younger brother by the lapels of his coat and slammed him against the fence encircling the park. “You heard what I told you.” He shook Matt once more. “Stay away from her.”

Dropping him, he turned and for the first time, she saw his face. It was white with anger, taut with tension. His eyes were stormy, almost black with his rage. He grabbed her arm.

“Marc,” she gasped. “You—”

“Stai zitto.” He pulled her toward a waiting limo.

She didn’t need a translator to understand his meaning. Be quiet. Shut up. But Darcy wasn’t a be quiet-shut up kind of girl. He should know that by now. “You don't understand—”

“I understand completely,” he snarled, as he thrust her into the car.

The cold from outside entered her body and went straight to the depths of her soul. She knew at this instant the fragile peace between them was blown apart forever. She knew exactly what was in his head. He had never believed her about Matt, and she’d unwisely put the whole misunderstanding in the back of her head these last five days when she might have had a chance to crack through his cynicism.

Because she didn’t want to stop building the bridge. Ruin the peace. Destroy her dreams.

“Make sure he's back in Italy by the end of the day,” he stated to his security. “Watch him. I don't want this to happen again.”

“Of course, sir.”

An astonished Matt was hustled into another car and driven off.

Marcus slid into the seat beside her and the door slammed shut. Their limo pulled smoothly into the stream of traffic going in the opposite direction of his brother’s. She heard the sound of his breath, harsh and low. She sensed the heat of his anger pulsing through his body. She felt the cold glare coming from him, boring into the side of her head.

“It's not what you think.” The words were a pitiful defense, not worthy of her fighting spirit, still she knew in her heart it was already a lost cause.

His silence spoke volumes. Volumes about his cynicism, his disrespect, and his lack of belief.

“I met Matt by accident.” She forced herself to meet his gaze.

His eyes were steel daggers piercing her love.

“You have to believe me.”

“We had a deal.” His words were cold and dead. “You broke it.”

“Not purposefully,” she pleaded.

“Yet why am I surprised?” he murmured, almost contemplative. “You are a woman.”

“Marcus.”

He turned away from her, dropping his gaze to his jacket. The mobile phone came out.

The memory of how she'd grabbed it away from him, teased him with it—briefly, she wondered if she should try it once more. But the aura around him was like a black, icy wall of stone. Of hatred towards her.

She was afraid. Afraid of what he'd do. It shook her. She'd never ever felt threatened physically by him. Yet now, she was and it mixed inevitably with the old fear.

“Blake.” His words were crisp. “Inform the hospital I will no longer be covering Mr. Moran's bills.”

Pain clutched in her throat. A tight, short cry came from her lips.

His grey eyes stared right into hers as he delivered the next blow. “I’m having the driver drop me off at the office. Ms. Moran will be driven back to the penthouse where she will stay alone until after my brother's wedding.”

She dimly heard the rumble of the head of security's voice answering him.

His gaze never left hers.

“Make sure she is under strict supervision from now on,” he commanded. “You can release her after the wedding is over.”

Click. The phone disappeared back into his suit pocket. She stared into his eyes, trying to find something of the lover she'd been with for the past five days. There was nothing except pure hate.