When She Fell for the Billionaire(68)

“Luca, Sabrina was never my lover.”

Markos’ pronouncement rang loud and clear in the hushed ballroom. Excited whispers rippled through the crowd.

“Asshole! So now you’re going to deny her?” he growled in Italian, refusing to make it easy for their international audience. And then he sidestepped Sabrina and lunged, delivering a blow to the Greek bastard’s face. Markos’ head snapped backwards.

Several women shrieked.

This time, Sabrina stepped in front of Markos, who had his head bent and was nursing an eye socket.

Luca saw red. “Stay out of it, strega,” he ordered.

“No, Luca. Please don’t hurt him.” Sabrina gazed at him with pleading eyes. He blinked, tried to clear his vision. Surely he hadn’t had too much to drink to be seeing things?

“Give me one good reason why I can’t beat the shit out of this bastard.”

Everyone held their collective breaths. The waiters looked poised to clear nearby breakable items at the next punch.

Tears started rolling down Sabrina’s cheeks. Luca blinked once more, trying to clear his head, feeling as if he had been the one that had taken a blow. He was so confused at what he was seeing he almost didn’t hear what she said.

“I think Markos is my brother.”

Luca’s gaze swung from Sabrina to Markos, who was now looming behind her. He noted the slight swelling of the tissue around his one blue eye. And then noted the uninjured one. The assymetrical brown eye.

He ran a shaking hand through his hair. Sabrina and Markos were regarding him warily through identical, mismatched colored eyes.

Behind him, a commotion of sorts ensued.

He turned around and saw a cluster of people around a woman he recognized.

Mrs. Konstantinos had fallen in a dead faint.





Chapter 20





Sabrina shivered from the chilly, sterile air in the emergency room. Why did hospitals have to be so cold? Or maybe the people who stepped in them only felt like it because they were sick, and if they weren’t, they were fearful for a loved one.

Luca took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. It was too big and too long with its tail, but the remnant of his body heat warmed her.

“Grazie,” she murmured, wrapping it more tightly around her.

“Prego,” he answered automatically.

It was their first exchange since she was discharged from the examining room for the swollen bump on the back of her head. A doctor had ordered a scan. Her initial protest against the procedure had been overridden by Luca, who in turn had adamantly refused to have his hand checked. Markos Konstantinos and his mother were still being attended to by doctors.

They were seated side by side on a metallic bench, like those found in airports. Occasionally, staff in scrub suits and lab coats passed in front of them.

“I should’ve never let you out of my sight.” His voice was filled with censure. “Eleni would not have dared hurt you if I was by your side.”

“You couldn’t have gone with me everywhere. At least not to the ladies’ room,” she said in an attempt at levity.

His brow kicked up as if to say, Don’t be too sure about that.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” she blurted out, staring straight ahead. She didn’t dare look at him. “I should have told you.”

From one of the cubicles, a child’s pitiful cry rent the hushed atmosphere.

“We just had sex. It doesn’t warrant an exchange of life stories,” he said flatly. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

This time she couldn’t help it. She glanced at him. His profile was like a marble sculpture, so beautiful and so cold.

Would it be too late? But it was worth more than a try. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

“I’m Sabrina Connelly from California,” she spoke, averting her gaze from his profile. “I was told that my father had died before I was born. My mother left me with my grandmother to work abroad when I was still a baby.” He remained impassive, as if she hadn’t spoken. “My mother came back to the States with a man she had met and married at work, with whom she had other children. My mother became sick and died two years ago. She left me a letter, revealing the identity of my father. She just gave me a name. She left everything else a blank. I wanted to go to Greece and seek him out as soon as I knew his name, but my grandmother fell ill. I couldn’t leave her. She died just over a year ago.”

Was that a softening in his features she detected?

She forged on, “Mr. Konstantinos died shortly after. I didn’t get to meet my father, but I was hoping I would be able to meet my brothers.” She played with a button on his coat. “It was luck that I came across an article about the relaunch of The Medeia and how it would take place after the royal wedding. And that the whole Konstaninos family would be in Seirenada. I had this vision of a joyful family reunion  ,” she chuckled bitterly.