Uncovering the Silveri Secret

He slowly released a breath and unlocked his hands. ‘Is that really the sort of man you think I am?’ he asked.

She licked her paper-dry lips. ‘I shouldn’t have slapped you... I’m sorry...’

He picked up the ladder and tucked it under one arm. ‘Apology accepted,’ he said and strode away until he disappeared from sight.

CHAPTER SEVEN

EDOARDO sat behind the mahogany desk in the study and looked sightlessly at the figures in front of him on his computer screen. Work was usually the panacea for all ills but he couldn’t get his brain to focus. All he could think about was the feel of Bella in his arms. His body still throbbed with desire. It was like a banked-down fire deep inside him. Just one spark of her gaze and he was alight again.

He had made her confront her desire for him but it had come at a price. The look on her face, the shadow of fear in her brown eyes as she had stood there, made his stomach churn. He had seen that look in his mother’s eyes before his stepfather had raised his hand in one of his drunken rages. Even after all these years he could still hear the sound of that clenched fist landing on his mother’s face or body.

He pushed back from the desk, stood up and wandered over to the window. The weather forecast had predicted a heavy fall of snow overnight. He could see the clouds gathering in brooding clusters on the horizon.

They reminded him of his mood.

Fergus got up from the rug with a tired sigh and made his way creakily to the door. Edoardo opened it for him just as Bella was walking past. She gave him a startled look and stepped backwards, one of her hands going to her milky throat. ‘You scared me,’ she said.

‘That seems to be a habit of mine just lately,’ he said.

Her eyes fell away from his. ‘I know you’re not like...that,’ she said in a quiet voice.

‘So you feel safe with me, do you, Bella?’ he asked.

She slowly brought her toffee-brown eyes to his. ‘Of course I do...’

‘You don’t sound very sure about that.’

Her teeth tugged at her lower lip for a moment. ‘I know you would never physically hurt me,’ she said.

‘I sense a “but” lurking somewhere in that statement.’

She let out a wobbly little breath. ‘This thing between us...it has to stop. It has to stop before it gets complicated.’

He slanted her a cynical smile. ‘It’s already complicated, Bella,’ he said. ‘Your father made it a hundred times more so by putting me in charge of your life.’

Her gaze appealed to his. ‘You could always quit the guardianship. You’d be free of me and I’d be free of you. It’s a win-win for both of us.’

‘Not going to happen, princess,’ he said. ‘I made a promise to your father. He trusted me to keep you out of trouble. He worked damn hard to get where he got. I’m not going to stand by and see some gold-digging gigolo waltz into your life and take everything.’

‘Why do you think I’m gullible enough to let something like that happen?’ she asked with a frown.

‘You’re too trusting,’ Edoardo said. ‘You’re so desperate for approval and acceptance you can’t see the difference between genuine friendship and exploitation.’

She flashed him a glare. ‘I have lots and lots of genuine friends. Not one of them exploits me.’

He cocked a brow. ‘How much rent do you charge those four girls who share your house?’

She pressed her lips together without answering, her cheeks turning rosy red.

‘Nothing, right?’ he said. ‘You’re a fool, Bella. They’re using you, and you can’t or won’t see it.’

‘You know nothing about my friends,’ she said. ‘So I help them out with a place to stay—what of it? They help me in turn.’

‘How?’ he asked with a curl of his lip. ‘Let me guess: they help you spend your allowance on useless fripperies each month.’

Her eyes gave an annoyed little roll. ‘I don’t have to explain my personal expenses to you.’

‘For God’s sake, Bella, you went through fifteen thousand pounds in the last couple of months,’ he said. ‘You can’t keep spending like that. You have to take responsibility for yourself. I’m not going to be around to keep you on track for ever.’

She sent him a caustic look. ‘I can keep myself on track. I don’t need you.’