Hired:The Italian's Bride

“It happens, Luca, far more often than it should.”

She put her other hand over his. Telling him was sapping her strength but it needed to be said. Perhaps she could finally be free of it. Perhaps with Luca beside her, she’d stop blaming herself. Perhaps Robert would lose his power over her for good.

“He found me there, grabbing the phone to call the police. He ripped it from my hand and started in on me. By the time it was over, my mum was still unconscious and I had a concussion, broken ribs and internal injuries from where he—” Her voice broke a little. “From where he kicked me over and over. He left us there, Luca. Left us to die. But the postman noticed bloody handprints on the front door and the stair railing. He called the police and the rest is history.”

“Only it’s not history.” He gently tipped up her chin with a finger. “Nothing like that can ever completely go away, can it. Oh, Mari.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed the backs, his eyes closing. She stared at the way his lashes lay on his cheeks, the tender way he cradled her fingers. Where had he come from? How was it that he was here, exactly what she needed, at exactly the time she needed him?

“I am so sorry. No one should ever go through something like that.” He whispered the words against her fingertips.

And then he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers.

She went into his embrace willingly, their knees pressed together between the sofa and table. He was strong, and somehow a barrier between her and the ugliness of her past. When she was with him she was the Mariella she’d always wanted to be, free of the hold Robert Langston had held over her for so many years.

The kiss was soft, tentative, sweet. She hadn’t known he was capable of sweet.

She hadn’t known she was capable of love, but here it was. She loved Luca. And being completely out of her depth, she had no idea what to do about it.

“And now he’s out of prison…are you afraid he’ll come after you? What about your mum?”

His voice drew her back into the present. “The authorities keep me up-to-date while he’s on probation. Of course I think of it, and wonder if he hates me for my part in sending him to jail. But I can’t let myself think of it too much or it becomes overwhelming. I spent too many years looking over my shoulder. And it’s not one of those things you ever really get used to.”

“And what about your mother?”

Mari shook her head. “I don’t speak to my mum that often…there seems to be a wall between us now. I don’t even know where she’s living. I…” Mari cleared her throat. “A part of me still wonders how she could have let it happen. How she could have stayed with a man who beat her. Who beat me. Why didn’t she try to get out?”

She looked up at Luca. “What kind of mother hurts her own child that way? What kind of mother doesn’t put the welfare of her child ahead of everything? There have been times I’ve thought about the home I want, the children I might have someday. Could I put them through that? I know I couldn’t. I’ve tried to understand it, but I just can’t. The only thing I can come up with is that she was too afraid to do anything else.”

Luca shook his head. “I don’t know, either. I barely remember my mother myself.”

“You said she left you and Gina. That must have been difficult.”

“I only remember feeling like we never mattered.” Mari’s eyes widened at the loathing in his tone. “She left us when I was a boy. My dad raised Gina and me.”

He stood up and walked over to the window.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, “That must have been horrible for you. Did your dad ever remarry?”

He cleared his throat. “It’s not important, Mari. It was a long time ago. And it was nothing compared to what you went through. Nothing.”

He spoke with such vehemence that she knew he was hiding his own hurts.

And for a moment, she forgot about herself and wondered about the boy he’d been, and how he’d suffered in his own way. Perhaps that silver spoon he’d been born with didn’t gleam as brightly as she’d thought. How she wished she could help him as he’d helped her today.

How had this happened?

She’d fallen in love with Luca Fiori, and it was the one sure thing to break her heart. Luca cared for her, yes. She knew that. But love? By his own admission, Luca didn’t do love.

She had to take a step back. This baring of souls—well hers, anyway—was all well and good, but even she wasn’t fool enough to believe there was a happy ending in all of it. Luca didn’t live here. He didn’t belong here. He belonged at his villa in Italy with his family and the Fiori empire and what was happening between them now was a blip in their lives. Necessary, perhaps, but still temporary. How could she tell him her true feelings?