The Girl That Love Forgot

“All right, I’m here,” she said. “But I’m not going to change my mind about tomorrow. So let’s not talk about it, we have so little time left already….”

Stefano held open the door. “Come in.”

He could see the uncertainty and longing across her lovely, expressive face as she entered his bedroom.

“Sit down,” he said. “I want to tell you something.”

She stood in front of him with a spine straight as steel and shook her head. “I’ll stand.”

“I want to tell you,” he said quietly, “the real reason I gave up my show-jumping career at nineteen, in the middle of the London International Equestrian Show.”

Her mouth fell open. Her gray eyes were wide as she sank onto the bed.

Stefano looked down at her. He hadn’t wanted to ever explain this, but it was the only thing that might help her understand. He forced himself to speak, and the words came slowly.

“I told you I was lured into joining the show-jumping team by the coach’s daughter.

Rosalia,” he said in a low voice. “I thought she loved me, and we would someday marry. The night before the horse show, I was unable to reach my parents back in Spain. My mother hadn’t answered her phone for weeks. I was worried so I went to see my coach, who I believed cared for me as a son.”

“What happened?”

Stefano’s lips curved sardonically. “He thought I was asleep in my hotel room. I overheard him laughing with another coach about how he’d convinced my parents to keep my mother’s illness a secret. Stupid peasants with no money, he called them. He’d convinced them it would be selfish to ask me to leave my team and be with my mother before she died.”

“Oh, no,” Annabelle whispered, her face stricken.

He took a rough breath. “I left without him knowing I’d overheard. I went to Rosalia’s room, to tell her what happened. I found her in bed with the captain of the show-jumping team.” His lips twisted. “I’d never even slept with her. I was still a virgin with this idealistic goal of marrying this perfect woman. But she’d never given a damn about me, just for the pretty trinkets I bought her. The next day, I got my revenge. I stopped my horse before the jump and went back to Spain. I used my small savings to buy Santo Castillo for my mother.

She lived for a year, and my father did not live long without her. But I never forgave myself

… for foolishly valuing a woman’s lies over what really mattered. My home. My family.”

“Oh, Stefano.” Annabelle reached for his hand, and he saw tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Standing beside the bed where she sat, he held her hand for long moments of silence.

His hand tightened over hers as he looked down at her.

“I know you think you can’t trust me, Annabelle,” he whispered. He lifted his chin.

“But you can. Being with you, for the first time since I was nineteen, I have found a woman I trust. A woman I believe in. I believe in you.”

Visibly trembling, Annabelle rose to her feet.

Pulling her into his arms, he nuzzled her temple. “Don’t leave tomorrow, Annabelle,” he whispered against her hair. “Stay here with me.”

He felt her hesitate, felt her start to melt in his arms. Then she pushed away angrily.

“How dare you use your charm on me!”

He blinked. “Charm?”

“You know you have power over me!” she raged. “You always make me do anything you want!”

Stefano liked the sound of that. He came closer to her. “Do I really have such power?”

“You know you do,” she whispered.

He hid a smile. Wrapping his arms back around her, he pressed his lips to her ear.