Scandal and the Runaway Bride (Heirs to an Empire 1)

Get some sleep. Gabi thought of the man currently in her room and wondered if they’d sleep much at all. And even if they did, she knew she’d lie awake, wishing, wanting things she couldn’t have.

But it didn’t matter, anyway. The responsibility of Baresi was on her shoulders right now. That had to be her focus. Her personal life—what there was of it—could wait.

CHAPTER TEN

THE LAST THING Will wanted to do the next day was get on a plane and fly to Paris. But here he was, sitting in the airport in Rome, waiting for his flight, missing Gabi already.

Ten days. They’d spent ten days together and already his life felt permanently altered.

This morning had been torture. Oh, Gabi had put a good face on it. She’d made coffee while he’d cooked her an omelet, and they’d made love one last time before he’d jumped in her shower and dressed for the flight.

He’d left her at her door, both of them trying to smile, but he’d seen the brightness in her eyes as he’d prepared to say goodbye. It was amazing to him that she cared about him that much.

In the end he’d said nothing, just dropped a light kiss on her lips and turned to walk away, straight to the car. He’d had to get away, out of sight, so he’d driven three blocks before pulling over and setting up the GPS so he could find his way to the airport.

And if his eyes had been misty, too, then so be it. Maybe he was the guy who cleaned up the messes and lived on the straight and narrow these days, but he still had feelings, dammit. And he cared for her a lot. If fate was really a thing, it seemed a cruel joke that he met her too late.

For a while he’d wondered if the attraction had been because she was exactly the wrong person. In earlier years, he’d made those foolish decisions, and he’d caught himself at times over the last week and a hal

f, wondering if he was falling into old patterns.

But he was not. It wasn’t that Gabi was dangerous and risky, or that she fit some sort of rebellion against the family. Those days were gone. He cared about her because she was, quite simply, wonderful.

His flight was called and he went to the gate, then boarded and found his business-class seat. The in-flight Wi-Fi meant he could start catching up on the work emails he’d missed the past two days. He might as well get stuck in the thick of things. It was probably the best way to forget.

It was raining in Paris when he landed, and the car service took him from the airport to his apartment in the heart of the city. He loved Paris, perhaps even more than London, maybe because he’d spent so much time here as a child as his parents built Aurora, Inc., into the massive enterprise it was today. Even in the rain Paris was beautiful, with its shiny pavement and magical streets.

His apartment was a sprawling thing, with a wall of windows overlooking the river. He dropped his bag and went to the windows, looking out over the city he called home, and thought about all the times he had stood with Gabi in special places. In the lemon grove, on top of the hill at the villa, last night on her balcony. Places that resonated with them both, and he wished he could share this one with her now.

But she was back in Perugia, getting on with her life, and he was in France, doing the same.

But damn, he missed her.

He sent an email to the family announcing his return and then went to his bedroom to unpack as his phone started blowing up with requests for meetings.

The old routine, back again.

But he sighed and looked out the windows again at the glistening, wet streets. It was different now because he was different. And all the keeping busy in the world wouldn’t change it.

* * *

Gabi was used to being front and center in the financial aspects of Baresi Textiles, but in the days that followed her father’s surgery, she found herself in the midst of the full-on operations of the company. To say she was overwhelmed was an understatement, but the employees all knew her well. For the most part, everyone was helpful and asked about Massimo’s recovery daily.

As she sat at her desk, wading through emails, she realized that her father had built a company where the employees were contented and invested. That was saying something. She owed it to them to do a good job now. Captain the ship in his absence. And ask for help when she needed it.

After three days of back and forth with one of their main accounts, though, she felt she needed some advice. Massimo was at home and still on pain medication; once he’d healed sufficiently he’d start a grueling chemotherapy regime. She could ask him. Thought she probably should, but didn’t. Instead she sent an email and sat back in her chair, wondering if she’d done the right thing.

Five minutes later her phone rang.

“Hi,” she said, thrilled at the fast response, anxious to hear his voice again.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice,” he said, and she thrilled at the sound, so deep and soft.

“Oh, you, too. Things are okay in Paris?”

“Busy but fine. And you? You said you want my opinion on something.”

She hesitated. She was about to reveal things about her business that made her vulnerable. But he’d also said if she needed help or advice to call him. It came down to trust, didn’t it? And though she’d had misgivings at first, she trusted him. He hadn’t done one single thing to make her think otherwise.