The Sicilian's Marriage Arrangement

“So, you’re saying you were in the mood for an apple or something instead of the more exotic fruits?” The prospect did not appear to please her.

He stepped forward until their bodies were only inches apart and reached out to cup her face. “Perhaps you are the tree that will satisfy me for a lifetime.”

Hope felt herself go absolutely rigid in shock. She even stopped breathing. Her, the tree that could satisfy him for a lifetime? It was inconceivable, but why had he said it?

His hands dropped away from her face and he stepped back, giving her room to breathe. “Would you like to freshen up before dinner?”

Sucking air into her oxygen-starved lungs, she nodded. Anything to get away from his enervating presence. He led her to a guest room and stood aside for her to enter. She could see an en suite off to the left.

She paused in the doorway without looking at him. “Please don’t play with me, Luciano. I’m not in your league.” She didn’t want to be hurt again like she had been on New Year’s Eve. She didn’t want to be just another fruit for his jaded palate.

Once again his hands were on her and he turned her to face him. She met his eyes, her own serious. He ran his fingertip over her bottom lip and her whole body trembled.

“I am not playing, cara.”

She so desperately wanted to believe him, but the memory of New Year’s Eve was still too fresh. “Why…” She found she could not force the rest of the question past the lump of hope and wariness in her throat.

“Why what?”

“Why did you shove me away like a disease-ridden rodent after our kiss on New Year’s Eve?” The words tumbled out with all the pain and rejection she had felt that night six months ago.

He looked outraged. “I did not do this.”

“Excuse me, you did. I was there.”

“I too was there. Perhaps I let you go a trifle quickly. I did not wish to embarrass you with further intimacies.”

“You didn’t want to embarrass me?” The irony of such an excuse was too great to be born. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe.”

“So, to save me embarrassment, you chose to humiliate me instead?” she asked in incredulity. If that was how the male mind worked, no wonder women had such a hard time understanding them.

“To kiss Luciano di Valerio is not a humiliation.”

“But to be publicly rejected by you is!”

CHAPTER FOUR

A MUSCLE ticked in his jaw. “Explain.”

She was only too happy to do so. “I spent three hours as the butt of every joke in the room. Poor hopeless Hope, throwing herself at the gorgeous Italian,” she mimicked with savage pain. “Did you see how he had to practically tear her arms off of him? We always knew she was hopeless, but to be that desperate.”

The cruel voices echoed in her head as if it had just happened and the painful mortification sliced her heart.

“This cannot be true. I kissed you. Surely the other guests saw that. Porca miseria! I rejected that tall blonde’s advances to do it.”

“Oh, yes, the model.” Hope’s body went taut with remembered emotion. “You know that old saying about a woman scorned? Well, she epitomized it. She told anyone who would listen that I pushed her out of the way to get to you.”

Without the model’s interference, Luciano’s rejection would have remained a personal source of pain, not become a public humiliation.

“What is her name?” The chill in his voice surprised Hope.

“What difference does it make?” Did he think he could do something about it at this late date? The time for his action on her behalf was past. “Anyway, I don’t know her name. I just hope I never see her again. I wish I never had to see any of them again.” Impossible when so many of the party guests had been her grandfather’s business associates and she often acted as his social hostess, albeit a quiet one.

He swore in Italian. She didn’t recognize the word, but she knew that tone. It was the same one her grandfather reserved for certain four-letter words.

“Do you know how many of the male guests offered to give me what you supposedly wouldn’t?” she asked in driven tones. “Strictly as an act of charity, mind you.”

As if no man would ever want her enough to go after her. Well, David wanted her. He’d told her she could come to his room tonight. Maybe she would. At least he wouldn’t think he was doing her some kind of favor.

“I want the names of these men.” The rage in him was a palpable force and quite frightening.

She stepped back from him. “Why?”

“They insulted you.” He said it as if those three words should explain everything.