Modern Romance September 2018 Books 5-8. Heidi Rice

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ she hadn’t known at all. She’d just been in love with the idea of love, and dazzled by a romantic, sensual night with the most handsome, powerful man she’d ever known.

      Real love was different.

      It wasn’t flowers or jewelry or poetic words. It wasn’t the fairy tale of a grand wedding or becoming a princess in a castle. It wasn’t even spectacular, mind-blowing sex.

      Real love was quieter.

      It grew when you weren’t looking. From moments of laughter, of sharing. From small kindnesses. Like all the little things Stefano did that he thought she wouldn’t notice, not just for her, but for others. For his employees. For his hometown. For their child.

      Despite his attempts to hide it, she’d discovered his deepest secret. Stefano’s title might be Prince, but in his heart, he was something even better.

      He was a good man.

      She knew him now, perhaps better than he knew himself. She knew him, and she loved him.

      Did she dare tell him? Would that be foolhardy—or brave? Would her honesty ruin their fragile happiness? Or would it be the start of a life more joyful than either of them could imagine?

      As Stefano held her in his arms that night, as she felt the weight of his body over hers and the soft Sicilian winds blowing in from the balcony against their hot skin, she felt tormented, even as she shuddered with pleasure beneath the slow stroke of her husband’s hands.

      Until, when he pushed himself inside her, making her cry out with ecstasy, she could take it no more. As he shuddered into her with a low roar, she gripped his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes.

      “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Stefano.”

      * * *

      The next morning, Stefano woke with a strange feeling in his chest, finding he’d cradled Tess naked in his arms the whole night as they’d slept. A flash of vertigo went through him, leaving him woozy and sick.

       I love you, Stefano.

      He could still hear the tremble of Tess’s voice last night, see the piercing emotion in her emerald eyes. He’d been deep inside her, his whole body shuddering with pleasure, but when she’d spoken the words, something had gone through him, something greater than joy. Overwhelmed, he’d kissed her, again and again as she’d softly wept.

      “I was so scared to tell you,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his naked chest.

      “Don’t be scared,” he’d said, his heart in his throat. And he’d found himself whispering love poetry in Italian he’d thought he’d forgotten. Since they’d arrived in Sicily, the prison of his childhood had become paradise.

      He’d kissed her again, then held her until they’d both slept with their naked bodies intertwined. And for that brief moment, everything had felt right to him.

      Waking in the morning was different.

       I love you, Stefano.

      A chill went down his spine. A pounding anxiety formed at the base of his brain. He looked at Tess, cuddled against him beneath the blanket, her beautiful face tender, smiling in her sleep.

      Stefano couldn’t breathe.

       He had to get out of here.

      Jumping up, he went to the closet. Pulling on boxers and dark trousers, he grabbed a suitcase that Salvatore had unpacked for them the night before. He came back toward the wardrobe.

      “What are you doing?”

      He saw Tess watching him in the shadowy pink light. Sleepy as a kitten, she looked soft and adorable and it made the feeling in his chest tighten a little more.

      “Getting dressed.”

      She yawned, stretching her arms. “Is the baby awake?”

      “No, not yet.”

      He thought of how he’d quoted love poetry last night, and he felt sick. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. A man could not be held to account for what he might say in the arms of a beautiful woman.

      But he knew what was really happening. Why he’d slept in her arms last night better than he ever had before. And that he must not—could not—let it happen. Because the moment he relaxed, the moment he surrendered to emotional weakness, everything would crumble beneath his feet.

      Stay in control, he ordered himself, clenching his hands at his sides. You feel nothing.

      “Stefano?”

      “I have to go,” he said flatly.

      “What?” She sat up in bed, looking shocked. “Go where?”

      “I must return to Paris to start the search for Mercurio’s new designer. And then London, to see if I can convince Fenella Montfort to sell her shares.”

      But even as he spoke, he knew there was no way to buy Zacco now. Not unless he sold everything he owned outright, and maybe not even then. The woman had made it clear she had no desire to sell.

      But Stefano had to give Tess some reason for his departure, and he couldn’t explain the real reason. Not when he barely understood it himself.

      “Oh.” Tess looked down at her body, still covered by the luxurious cotton sheets. She gave him a forced, cheerful smile. “I guess it was silly of me to think we could stay in Sicily forever. Of course not. You run a billion-dollar conglomerate. So when do we leave?”

      “I’m leaving now.” He paused. “You and Esme will remain.”

      “What?” She clutched the sheet higher, over her naked body that just hours before had been hot and tangled beneath his own. “No!”

      “You will do as I tell you.” He couldn’t bear to look at her beautiful, anguished face. Turning away, he stuffed a few more things in his suitcase.

      “This is because I told you I love you, isn’t it?” Tess’s voice trembled. “I knew this would happen! I knew it!”

      Stefano looked away. Outside, he could see the hills leading to a pink horizon over the distant Mediterranean and, beyond that, Africa. Without a word, he pulled on a crisp white shirt and tucked it into his trousers. Sitting in a nearby chair, he laced up his black leather shoes.

      “Please, Stefano,” she whispered. “Just talk to me.”

      His stomach tightened, but he forced himself to face her.

      Tess’s hands were clasped, her thick black eyelashes fluttering against her pale cheeks.

      Dawn broke, and sunlight flooded the bedroom from the east-facing windows, frosting Tess’s beautiful face with warm golden light. As their eyes locked, he felt strangely vulnerable. And no wonder. He’d never revealed so much of his heart to any other living soul.

      Just that thought made the world СКАЧАТЬ