A dart of pure jealous rage pierced his apathy. However, it quickly subsided, consumed by the wretched numbness making his bones ache.
“Who would have thought,” his brother continued, “she’d bring you, the Great Man, to his knees.”
“Enough.” The torture was more than he could stand. Hadn’t he paid for his sins sufficiently? He’d never thought Matteo malicious, yet clearly he was. “No more.”
“You admit it then. You love her.”
The howl burned in his throat. The emotion welled, overtaking him, sweeping him away into a wasteland of regret. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Dio,” his fratello gasped. “You do.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head on the wooden door.
A sharp hush descended.
“She loves you, too.”
The words fell like drops of hope on his parched soul. He rejected them, though. Pushed them far from him. “No.”
“Si,” his brother rebuked. “Si.”
The confidence in his voice caused Marc to open his eyes and glare. “Don’t be stupid. She loves you. She told me so.”
“Yet, she never slept with me. But she did sleep with you.”
Shock coursed through his body. He stiffened and swore. “She wasn’t a virgin. Don’t take me for a fool.”
“Yeah.” Matteo’s gaze was clear and direct and honest. “She told me about the one time. Claimed she had something to prove to herself. Which she never really explained.”
“What?” The word was hoarse with disbelief.
“Told me the guy was harmless. The one she picked to do the deed.”
“Merda.”
His brother’s eyes never left his. Still clear. Still honest. “Darcy told me she didn’t like it and she wouldn’t be doing it again. Ever.”
“It can’t be.”
Matteo grimaced. “Something happened to her before I met her. Something that put her off of touching.”
That wasn’t true. Darcy touched all the time.
“I think she channels her need for contact into her artwork,” his brother mused. “She touches all sorts of stuff, paints and canvas. That kind of thing. But never people.”
She’d touched him those last few days together. She’d initiated contact. Slipping her hands across his jaw. Whispering her lips on his skin. Taking him deep inside of her until they were one. Until he’d found the place he was meant to be.
“Darcy doesn’t do hugs, much less sex.” His brother observed him with a keen gaze. “Until you, apparently.”
The memory of her, naked under him. Her surprise, her naïve moves, her widened eyes.
It hadn’t been an act.
It had been real.
He’d lost control. He’d taken her roughly and quickly instead of with finesse.
The sins mounted, overtaking him.
“Jesu.” Horror leached into his gut. “I took her like a—”
“She gave herself to you. There’s no way you’ll make me believe you raped her.”
“No, but I—”
Matteo punched him lightly on his shoulder. “Did Darcy come to you willingly?”
The memory of her graceful arms coming around him, her eyes hazy with desire for him. “Si. She did. But I kept—”
“Then that’s all I need to know.” His fratello paced away and then turned. “She loves you.”
Marc swept a hand over his face, wild hope and fear pumping inside him. “You and Darcy?”
“Only ever friends, Great Man. Not anything else.”
His breath was harsh in the quiet room. Cazzo. She’d been telling him the truth all along. She’d been open and trusting and willing to give him a chance. But he’d been a fool of fools and thrown her away.
She had to hate him now after what he’d done.
It was too late. For him. With her.
“I want you by my side when I marry, Marcus.”
He glanced over, tried to push away his own dilemma and for once in a long time, truly think of his brother first. “Only if you really want to, suo fratello. I want you to be happy.”
“Dio.” Brown eyes suddenly gleamed with a sheen of tears. “You haven’t called me that in years.”
“I will be calling you far more often in the coming years.” The promise was rock solid, planted deep in his soul.
His brother walked to him and pulled him into his arms. The hug healed something hard inside of Marc. Something he’d slammed down between them when he’d been a rejected lover at twenty-one and Matt had been a mere boy.
“Now, we better get out there before your big, bad partner calls the whole thing off,” his fratello said, stepping back. “It’s time I got married.”