Mistress By Blackmail(76)

“Certamente.” Marc tried to pull himself together. Straightening, he tugged his bow tie tight. He tamped down on the emotions he felt about his brother and his past. His carita. Tried to focus on what had to be done right now.

“After the wedding, though, Marcus.” Matteo pinned him with a determined squint. “I want you to leave for London immediately. Find Darcy. Make it work for yourself.”

Fear mixed with lingering pride made him clench his jaw. “We’ll see.”

His brother grasped his shoulders. “She somehow made you human again. Don’t throw this away because you’re afraid.”

His pride yelled, yet he knew in his heart what was important. Now he knew what he needed to value. It was only a matter of gathering his courage and throwing himself at her feet. Opening himself to rejection once more. Risking his heart in a way he’d never risked it with Juliana. Or any other soul on Earth.

“She loves you.” His brother’s gaze was dark with belief. “And she’s worth fighting for.”

“Si,” Marc finally admitted out loud. “She is worth it.”





Chapter 16





Two weeks.

Marc glowered at the sleet and ice dripping down his office window. The weather was typical for December in London and at any other time he wouldn’t have given it a thought. But now somewhere, out there, was a fragile little sprite. Outside in the cold. Who couldn’t be found and couldn’t be protected.

His gut twisted. If he didn’t find her soon, he was in serious jeopardy of developing an ulcer. Or a broken heart.

Turning, he paced to his desk, scanned his emails. Nothing.

He glared at his mobile lying on the glass top. Nothing.

He cursed under his breath. The best damn security a man could buy. A boatload of private investigators hired and paid handsomely. Connections and contacts made with the police and Scotland Yard. All to find one tiny woman—a person with little money and no home.

And what did he have to show for it?

Exactly nothing.

Dannazione, he’d even walked the streets of his brother’s old neighborhood in desperation. Prowled the Bayswater Road market for an entire day. Questioned every single damn artist on the long street. Not a one had any information. They’d had plenty of stories to tell about Darcy Moran, though.

How she made them laugh.

How she would give a person the coat off her back.

How she was a scrapper and a fighter.

All things he knew. Yet hearing the words had created a tight congestion somewhere in the vicinity of his soul. It competed with the acid burning in his stomach as he fought the growing fear. If these people had no idea where she was, how the hell was he ever going to find her?

He’d arrived from Italy with a plan, a good plan. Soothe her with his loving. Placate her with more gifts. Manage to tie her to him without having to confess his imperfections. Confess his ugly past, his horrible sins, his aching love. The scene with his brother had torn a strip off his pride and he’d had no desire to experience the same gut-wrenching interaction with Darcy. All he’d wanted was to slip into her welcoming arms and forget his past.

However now, after two weeks of agony, he was willing to say or do anything to find her and keep her. If Darcy stood in front of him right now, he’d willingly get down on his knees and beg.

His phone buzzed and with a desperate hope, Marc grabbed it and looked at the number.

Buon Dio.

His brother returned from his honeymoon. The last person he wanted to talk to right now.

He forced himself to answer the call. “Si.”

“Hey, Great Man.” Matteo’s voice was bright and filled with laughter. “Just got back from two glorious weeks in Tahiti. Viola and I both thank you for the trip. It was wonderful.”

“Wonderful.” He paced to the window and scowled at the storm clouds.

“Fantastic diving. Excellent food. Completely isolated yet with every comfort you could possibly need.”

“Wonderful.” He strode to his desk.

“Hmm.” His brother’s voice turned curious. “The one regret I had was I couldn’t find out what happened with you and Darcy. No phones. No internet.”

“Nothing happened.”

A cutting silence fell.

Then his brother erupted. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Everything. Everything was wrong with him. He’d stupidly pushed away the love of his life. Forced her to leave and disappear from his life. Forever?

Matteo’s curses continued to flow.

He stood at his desk and stared at the blank computer screen. Waiting with fading hope for any news.

“Marcus.”

The harsh sound of his name broke through the fog of fear hanging over him. “What?”