Modern Romance September 2018 Books 5-8. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
the patterns of the carpet. “You blackmailed me into marriage,” she said in a low voice. “You threatened to destroy my family, to take Esme away.”
“It was an empty threat.” He looked at her with glittering eyes. “I would never take Esme away from you, Tess. Not for any reason.”
Shocked at this admission, Tess demanded, “Then why did you say it?”
“You were threatening to call off our wedding.”
“We barely know each other. All I did was share some doubts. And you proved my fears right!”
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he said quietly. “But I couldn’t let you leave. Or Esme. I can’t just abandon you to the whims of fate and hope you’ll be safe. Marrying you is the only way I know to keep you safe.” He gave her a regretful smile. “I’m sorry if my method was a bit unorthodox—”
“Unorthodox?”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said in a low voice. “We have a lifetime. I know I can make you happy.”
A lump rose in her throat at the certainty in his voice. “How can you be so sure?”
“You said you spent the last year thinking of me.” Lifting his hand gently to her cheek, he said softly, “What you don’t know is that I spent the last year trying not to think of you. And failing.”
“What are you saying?”
“I never forgot you, Tess.” He paused. “There’s been no one else.”
Was he saying...?
“Impossible,” she breathed. “The model I saw you with yesterday—”
“Kebe?” He snorted. “She’s just a kid. I was giving her a ride home from a party. Although,” he murmured, grinning, “I like that you were jealous.”
“I wasn’t,” she lied.
“Didn’t my marriage proposal prove you’re the only woman I’m interested in?”
“You proposed because of Esme.”
“She’s not the only reason.” His hand stroked from the edge of her jawline to her sensitive lower lip. “You asked yesterday if I could be faithful to you. The truth is...” His dark gaze lifted to hers. “I have been. For over a year.”
There was a noisy burst of conversation from the other end of the service hall as a group of uniformed waiters appeared, carrying trays. But Tess couldn’t look away from his gaze. She was in shock.
Stefano took her hand with his own. “Come with me.”
“We should go back to the reception,” she said, trying to ignore the thrum of her heart. “People will be wondering where we are—”
“So?”
“Aren’t they your friends?” she said, bewildered.
“Acquaintances. I don’t give a damn about them. You’re the only one I want to please.”
“And Esme—”
“She’s fine with your cousin, isn’t she?”
“But...” She bit her lip. “What will my family think? Leaving my own wedding reception without a farewell?”
“It’s your day, Tess. Your choice.” His dark eyes seared her. “Do you want to go back and make small talk? Forget about what you think you’re supposed to want. What do you actually want?”
Tess’s lips parted. For so long, she’d worried about pleasing others. Always being cheerful, pleasant and helpful, no matter what. Maybe part of her had always been afraid that if she put one toe out of line her uncle and aunt might abandon her, as her father had, and send her away.
Raw emotion filled her. What did she want?
No one had ever really asked that before.
“I want to leave with you,” she whispered. His dark eyes gleamed.
“Then come.” His large hand enfolded her smaller one. As he pulled her down the shadowy hall, past the chattering waitstaff, it occurred to Tess that if their passionate interlude had taken any longer they would have put on a shockingly good show for a bunch of strangers. She should have felt ashamed.
But she wasn’t. After a lifetime of feeling invisible and desperate to please, something had made her reckless and bold.
Not something.
Someone.
Stefano wasn’t afraid of her expressing her true feelings, either good or bad. He was strong enough to take it. He didn’t judge her. He wasn’t going to punish her. He wasn’t going to leave her.
You asked yesterday if I could be faithful to you. The truth is I have been. For over a year.
His husky words echoed through her as Stefano led her into the Campania’s lobby. She shivered, hardly able to believe it was true. Stefano had been faithful to her for over a year?
Her hand tensed in his as he led her toward the elevator. Wealthy guests and elegant patrons at the lobby bar turned to gape openly at them, the famous billionaire prince and his redheaded bride in a diamond tiara and wedding gown. People started to whisper, to lift their phones to take pictures.
“Hurry,” Stefano said in a low voice, picking up the pace. She raced with him, clinging to his hand, her white veil and white wedding skirts flying behind her.
As the elevator door closed behind them, he pulled her hungrily into his arms. He kissed her forehead, her temples, her eyelids. He cradled her in his arms as if she were a treasure and he never wanted to let her go. And then he kissed her lips.
As the elevator traveled upward, Tess felt her body surrender in his powerful arms. When he kissed her, she was lost.
How she wished she could still believe in her romantic fantasy of him, that he was a handsome prince on a white horse, a strong, romantic hero she could trust. How she wished she could just let herself go, let herself love that man...
But she couldn’t. As he drew away from the kiss, Tess looked up at him. She couldn’t even think about loving him. Not unless she wanted her heart to be broken again.
Because however she might feel in his arms, Stefano was no knight in shining armor. Just hours before, he’d blackmailed her into speaking their vows at their wedding ceremony. What should have been the happiest moment of Tess’s life had instead been misery, an agony of hate and despair.
She couldn’t let herself truly trust him. She couldn’t let herself believe in the romance or give him her heart.
But as Stefano smiled down at her, his dark eyes gleaming wickedly, she felt breathless. Her heart pounded with emotion and desire.
She hated that he’d blackmailed her into marriage. But at least he’d done it for the right reason, she told herself. He wanted to protect her and Esme, and claimed that he would spend the rest of his life making them happy. Could Tess truly fault him for that?
Especially when he made her feel like this...
As the elevator reached their floor, the door opened with a ding. Still holding her hand, Stefano led her toward his suite. After unlocking the door, he pushed it open. When Tess started to walk inside, he stopped her with a chiding smile. “That’s not how it’s done.”
He picked her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. Her long white veil and white skirts trailed behind them as he carried her over the threshold.
Inside, the suite, already so luxurious, had been utterly transformed. She gasped when she saw the lavish vases of long-stemmed red roses and soft glow of white candles.
“What have you done?” she breathed, looking up at him.