Billionaires: The Hero: A Deal for the Di Sione Ring / The Last Di Sione Claims His Prize / The Baby Inheritance. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
Heat scored her cheeks. “I will say congratulations on doing the impossible,” continued Susana as she hung up the suits. “Mingmei will undoubtedly be wondering how you did it.”
“Mingmei?”
“The manager of our Hong Kong hotel. Better you know about that one before you come face-to-face with her. Mingmei and Nate had an affair before she came to work for him.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Three years ago. Clearly it ended well because he hired her, but Mingmei—”
“—still desires Nate.”
“Perhaps.” Susana handed her a cream-colored suit. “How did you and Nate meet?”
Mina’s brain worked furiously. “We met at the hotel in Sicily where I worked. In the bar. It was...love at first sight.”
Susana smiled. “That I would have liked to have seen. It would have been entertaining to watch the Ice Man fall.”
Mina diverted the conversation to clothes after that before she stumbled over another answer. Three hours of endless fittings later, she walked out of the boutique the owner of a stylish, power-based wardrobe with some pretty things for the evening. “You’ll need it,” Susana had advised. “Nate’s social calendar is daunting.”
Her phone rang as she walked back across the courtyard. She glanced at the screen, her stomach doing a slow churn. Her mother. Maybe it was better to get it out of the way.
She sat on a bench and took the call. “Ciao, Mamma.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then, “Che pensi che stai facendo, Mina?” What do you think you’re doing?
Her cheeks fired, her fingers trembling around the phone. “I couldn’t marry Silvio, Mamma. I told you that but you wouldn’t listen.”
“So you disgraced your fiancé, this family, in front of the entire city?”
She bit her lip. “He hit me. I can’t live with a man like that.”
“And you expect your American tycoon to be any different? Men are all the same. They want a beautiful wife on their arm who obeys them, Mina. Who uncomplicates their life. Start disagreeing with your American after the rosy glow is over and see how he acts.”
“Nate would never hit me.”
A pause. “Where are you now?”
She chewed hard on her lip.
Her mother made a strangled sound. “What will you do? Go live with him in America? You will surely have to now, because your reputation is in tatters. This family’s reputation is in tatters.”
A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t even know where Nate lived. Only that it was in New York.
“Mi dispiace,” she murmured huskily. “You left me no choice, Mamma.”
“You disappoint me, Mina.”
What was new about that? She had always disappointed her mother. Had never understood why when she’d done everything asked of her. Had attained top grades at school, had dated her endless contingent of bachelors, and still been found lacking.
“What about our plan? To sell the ring?”
Her heart sank. There it was. What her mother truly cared about. “It hasn’t changed. I will sell the ring and pay off our debts. But as I’m sure Pasquale told you, I can’t do that for a year.”
“Perhaps,” her mother said deliberately, “your husband could help.”
She closed her eyes. “I won’t ask that of him, Mamma.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. There would be no inquiry as to how she was. Whether she was happy. None of that mattered to her mother. Had never. “I have to go,” she said thickly.
“Mina—”
She ended the call. A deep, all-encompassing throb moved through her. Made it hard to breathe. She’d gotten past her naïveté about her mother a long time ago. It was the depth to which she didn’t care that shocked her now.
She was alone in this world. Utterly alone. Her life would have to be shaped by her and her alone.
* * *
Nate had just finished reviewing the financials for the Emelia when Mina walked through the door in a charcoal-gray suit, her traffic-stopping legs clad in a pair of finely made Italian heels.
If he’d thought a suit would help dull his attraction to her he had been entirely wrong. The suit was conservative, covered all the requisite parts adequately; it was what was under it that was unavoidable. The fitted jacket highlighted her tiny waist and taut high breasts, the knee-length pencil skirt skimmed generous hips.
A power suit to be sure, but on his wife it swayed all the power in favor of her innate sensuality.
He brought his gaze back up to her face. Studied the pallor that blanched her honey-colored skin. “What’s wrong? Did Silvio contact you?”
She set down the bag she was holding and slid off her shoes. “No—it’s—I’m fine.”
“You were having nightmares about it last night. You’re not fine.”
A flush filled her cheeks. “I woke you?”
“I was still working. Mina, I promised to protect you and I will. You don’t need to worry about him.”
“I know. I do. It’s just—sometimes my imagination gets the better of me.” She raked her hair out of her face. “That’s not why I’m upset. My mother called. She was furious. Not that I hadn’t expected that. My reputation is in tatters. Also not surprising.”
“Then why the lost look? What did she say to you?”
She shook her head. “You are my boss now. I should keep this professional.”
He gave her a wry look. “We are also married. I think we have a rather unique relationship. What did she say?”
She exhaled. “She wasn’t worried about me. She didn’t ask if I was okay. She didn’t care if I was happy with you. She said I’d disappointed her.”
He lifted a brow. “For running away from a monster to marry a man who professes to love you and will keep you safe? For delivering the exact same result in the sale of the ring? What kind of a mother is she?”
She shook her head. “She never wanted children. My father did. I was always with my nanny, Camilla. As soon as my father died, she sent me off to boarding school in France, as if she couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I always came home with good grades, top of my class, but it seemed inconsequential to her. She just didn’t care.”
“How old were you when your father died?”
“Eight.”
The image of a tiny Mina being sent off to school at such a young age pulled at his heartstrings. “You’ve never talked to her about it? Asked her why?”
She lifted a shoulder. “My mamma—she is cold. It’s her way. I told myself to let it go. To not wish for the impossible. But sometimes I do. I wish I knew what she finds so...lacking in me so I can fix it.”
He knew how that felt. To always wonder what it was about you that was so defective your own father wanted nothing to do with you. That he could turn his back on his own flesh and blood and slam a door in your face when you had come to beg for assistance. To deny you even existed. But he knew it was a fruitless pursuit. A soul-destroying pursuit.
“It’s better not to wonder,” he told Mina roughly, “to look for that flaw in yourself you think they see in you. Because it’s not you, it’s her. She should have been a proper mother to you and she wasn’t. That’s