The Italian's Doorstep Surprise

“It is,” Honora said, exasperated. “He was drunk on Christm

as Day, he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, and I took heartless advantage. So there!”

That wasn’t exactly how it had happened, but she was fed up with Benny mooning after her.

The truth was, she’d been a little relieved when he’d been transferred to a different position in the Ferraro business empire. She felt sorry for him, and a little guilty, but she wanted him to be happy. When she’d come up here to sit beside him, she’d hoped to discover that the weeks and miles of distance, not to mention the fact of her marriage, had helped him gain a little perspective. She’d thought they could have a short private discussion that would put them both at ease.

But it had only made things worse. So much worse.

He was pale. “You’re telling me I no longer have a chance?”

Honora wanted to scream. “You never had a chance with me! Never!”

He narrowed his eyes as he stared forward at the road. His expression was surly. “Because he’s so rich, right?”

Her sympathy was disappearing. She was getting tired of friends, people who should have been on her side, implying she was some kind of gold digger.

“Because I’m in love with him.” It was strange to realize that she was saying the words for the first time aloud, and not to Nico but to some other man who was stupidly making a pass at her.

His jaw dropped. “You can’t!” He stared stonily at the road. “Nico Ferraro is a selfish bastard. He doesn’t care for anyone but himself. And sooner or later—” he glanced at her “—he’s going to hurt you. A man like that can do nothing else.”

Honora felt a shiver of fear. Was Benny right? Would Nico break her heart and leave her crying and alone?

No. Impossible. He wouldn’t leave her. He was the one who’d first wanted marriage, not her.

But you love him now, and he’ll never love you back, whispered a small voice.

Setting her jaw, she pushed the painful thought away. “If this is how you show loyalty to Nico as your employer, and to me as a friend, I think you should seriously consider finding another job.”

His lips twisted. “Way ahead of you.”

Benny didn’t speak to her again on the drive. Honora sat in the front seat, gripping the handle over her head as the big SUV swayed sharply around the turns of the narrow coastal road, passing within inches of tour buses flying in the opposite direction.

She felt sick from the twisty roads, exhausted by jet lag and lack of sleep, and horrified by his words.

But as the SUV finally entered through a guarded gate into a beautiful estate filled with lemon trees, Honora thought of how lucky she was: a newlywed, expecting a baby, in love with her husband. Surely she could be kind to Benny and not ruin his life just because of some ridiculous infatuation.

With a deep breath, she turned to him. “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to lose your job—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pulling up in front of a grand, classical villa, he faced her. “I’ll be fine. I already know someone looking for a driver. She lives in Hollywood.” He gave a sharp smile. “I’ll be a movie star within a year. I would have left a long time ago if you’d just been honest with me.”

“When was I not honest?”

“Every time I flirted with you, showed you how much I liked you, bought you pickles. I believed you when you said you couldn’t date because your grandfather needed you. But it was just an excuse. The second Ferraro crooked his finger, you couldn’t wait to fling yourself into his bed. The second he bought that ring—” he eyeballed the huge diamond on her left hand “—you couldn’t wait to say your vows.”

Her cheeks went hot. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings...”

Benny gave a harsh laugh. “So you kept me around for years in hope, rather than telling a single hard truth to set me free.”

“I never meant to—”

“Save it.” Getting out of the SUV, Benny came around to her side and opened her door, his expression hard. He didn’t look at her. Honora got out slowly, feeling bewildered by his sudden anger.

Wrenching open the rear passenger door, Benny waited stone-faced as Nico got out, his Italian assistant trailing behind him. Her husband looked between the driver and Honora sharply. He seemed to sense something was wrong.

As Frank Bauer got out of the second car, he called, “Hey, Benny, mind helping me with the bags?”

“Screw you, Bauer. And as for you—” Turning to Nico, Benny said something in Italian, complete with a gesture that even Honora knew was vulgar.