Mistress By Blackmail(83)

“You’re not capable of believing in a woman.”

“No—”

She waved away his hoarse cry. “I understand now why you’re this way. I can accept you were hurt—”

“But—”

“But.” She forced herself to finish. “I can’t handle a life with a man who won’t believe me.”

“I—”

“Who can’t love me.”

His harsh breath filled with silence.

Futile tears welled in her throat. This was it. This was the end. Her heart cried even though her brain and pride told her she’d done the right thing.

“I love you.”

His words were laced with fear. She felt it. Tasted it. It poured from him in an agony of panicked alarm. He stood tense as if waiting for a blow.

“Marc.” She should walk away now. Still, she was unable to leave him in so much pain.

A short, sharp silence fell between them.

Then he turned to look at her. His eyes, his silver eyes, no longer held a stormy brew of turmoil. They were intense, two silver swords of resolve.

With one pace, he was at her side, tugging her into his arms. A torrent of Italian slipped from him as his lips slid across her forehead, her cheeks, and her mouth. His kiss was frantic. A plea and cry she could not deny. Her lips softened, opened to his thrusting tongue and hot mouth. The kiss went on and on as if he’d given up on convincing her with his words and instead, had decided to tell her with his body.

She wrenched herself away from his temptation. “Marc—”

“No,” he moaned into the side of her neck. “Don’t say it.”

Against her will, her hands smoothed across his shoulders. “This won’t work.”

“It will.” He lifted his head and met her gaze with a hot, determined look. “I put myself in your hands, carita.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “I want a man who loves me.”

“You have it.”

The tears choked her throat. She let herself believe a tiny bit. “I want a man who wants to live. Not make money.”

“I will change.” His hands clenched her sides. “I promise.”

“I want a home.” Her deepest desire escaped her.

“You have one,” he responded immediately, without hesitation. “With me.”

Her heart broke free from her pride and fear, jumping and flipping and bursting. “Really?”

The silver of his eyes deepened to pewter. “Marry me, Darcy Moran,” he begged. “Marry me and make me whole.”

She stared at him and saw everything. Everything she’d ever hoped for, dreamed of, needed. Love and hope and need all blended into a promise she could accept.

“Yes.” The one word slipped from her without thought, only instinct. “I’ll marry you.”

“Dio,” he groaned and captured her mouth. The kiss was no longer frantic but intense with love. He finally lifted his head, a crooked grin on his face. “Now, carita, I must hear the words I never thought I wanted to hear again.”

She cocked her head and gave him a sly peek. “What words?”

“Do not torture me.” His voice was stern, yet his eyes twinkled. “You know what I need.”

She slipped her finger over his tight jaw, down his hot neck. Gave him a coy smile.

“Carita. This is not a time to tease me.”

“Could the words be…I love you?”

His hands tightened around her, pulling into his hard body. “Say it without it being a question.”

She laughed and hugged him. Leaning back in his arms, she gazed into his beloved face. Yes. She was willing to give this man one last chance with her heart.

“I love you, Marcus La Rocca.”





Epilogue





The stew bubbled on the stove.

Sunshine dappled across the wooden chopping block, warming her hands as she cut the peppers. A slight breeze ruffled the white cotton curtains and filled the air with the scent of spring. A bird chirped from one of their orange trees outside.

Darcy stopped cutting for a moment and closed her eyes. Was this a dream? This life she now enjoyed. This life where she felt safe and loved and protected. This life even her pop had approved of when he’d given her away at the simple wedding. Her pop had even cried real tears that day. And with Marc’s firm control over any finances coming his way, her pop seemed to have gone straight much to her continued relief.

Could this really be true?

A home of simple beauty. A man who loved her with all his soul. An artist career launched with her paintings being sold as soon as they were displayed in London’s galleries. To add to all of this joy, another miracle soon to come. Could she be the luckiest girl in the world?

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.