Swept Away by the Venetian Millionaire

“Not even with me?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

Each word landed like a sharp spear into her heart. Maya pushed past the hurt and forced her mouth to move. “So that’s it, then? And will it be so easy for you to forget all about me after tomorrow?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“What are you saying, exactly?”

He shrugged. “That I have nothing to give. Nothing to offer.”

“That’s not true. It’s simply the excuse you use to avoid taking any risks.”

“But it is the truth, cara. I’m not capable of falling in love.” He sighed. “I just don’t have it in me.”

“And what if I’ve already fallen in love with you, Vito? What then?” Maya blurted out the words. She had no reason to hide the truth of it now; there was nothing left to lose, after all.

The blood visibly drained from his face. Pushing his plate away, he leaned back in his chair. “I’m sorry, Maya. I can only tell you to try and get past what you think you feel for me. Move ahead with your life as if I don’t exist.”

A brick settled in her throat. She had to fight to get the words out. “How can you ask me to do that? Do you really think I can?”

He remained silent, and it was answer enough.

“So that’s it, then?” she threw out, not bothering to suppress her hurt and anger at his infuriating nonchalance. All the while she was shattering inside. “You’ve made your decision. And you’re basing it all on your grief.”

Something visibly shifted behind his eyes. A hardness appeared in his gaze that had her flinching. But she met his stare dead-on. She wasn’t about to back down now.

“What is that supposed to mean, exactly?” he asked, his tone gritty and tight.

“I think you know.”

“Please indulge me and explain.” His voice held a very clear warning. Maya decided she would ignore it.

“I mean that you’re so invested in grieving for the past that you refuse to see what the future may hold.”

Vito didn’t so much as blink. “I see you’ve decided you can analyze me. Please, tell me more.”

She knew he was goading her, that she shouldn’t take the bait. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. Suddenly, she had too much at stake to stop. She’d never forgive herself if she didn’t lay it all on the line. For this man, she had to. “You don’t want to move on, Vito. You want to live in the past and examine then reexamine your role in the tragedy that you’ve had to endure. You don’t want to move past it. Because it’s easier to dwell on it. Because you’re scared.”

Vito finally moved. He leaned ever so slightly over the table toward her. “I see. And what about you, cara?”

“What about me?”

“What makes you think you’ve moved on from your past?”

What in the world could he be talking about? He had to see she no longer had any kind of feelings for the man she’d been engaged to. He had to see all her feelings were laser focused on one man and one man alone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. After the afternoon we just shared in your bed, you have to know I’ve moved past my engagement to another man.”

He actually laughed at her. A harsh, mocking sound that echoed off his kitchen ceiling and made her want to shrink away from the noise. “Don’t insult my intelligence. I knew it the first time I kissed you on that galleon. I mean the way you’ve held yourself back your whole life in order to please others.”

Her mouth went dry. He had no business speaking of such things. He didn’t know her life at all. “Others?”

“Your adoptive family.”

“What about them?”

“You’ve spent your life making sure they never regretted taking you in. From your choice of study in college to your career choice to the man you committed yourself to.”

“That’s not true. I didn’t—” But the words died on her lips. The arguments she wanted to make completely escaped her. It was too hard to think, given the hardness and utter derision in Vito’s expression.

“It’s exactly what you did,” Vito spat out. “You’ve spent your life making sure you fit in with your adoptive family, molded yourself into what you thought they wanted. Determined to make yourself worthy of their love and acceptance. And you dare accuse me of living for the past.”