That hard edge in his eyes deepened. “Now I am thinking you have cold feet, Mina. What more is there to know? I will provide a luxurious life for you to match the one you’re accustomed to. You will entertain me in bed and be a good mother to my children. It’s very simple.”
She pressed a palm to her flushed cheek. She had let the cat out of the bag; she might as well follow through with it.
“When is my birthday?” she asked quietly.
His mouth flattened, a scary, lethal line. “I will, of course, know that when we’re married.”
“Am I a morning person or a night owl? Can I swim or would I drown if you tossed me over the side of your yacht?”
“I’m considering it,” he growled. “Enough, Mina.”
She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. “You asked what was wrong. I’m telling you.”
Well, not all of it. If she told him the entire truth—that her mother was marrying her off so she inherited the family heirloom, a precious ring her father had bequeathed to her upon her marriage—he might not be so impressed. Of course, she conceded miserably, it changed nothing, really. She was being sold as a possession to bear Silvio Marchetti’s bambinos, when all she had ever wanted was to go to business school and follow in her father’s footsteps.
Silvio threw his napkin on the table. “I think we should get out of here.”
Mina’s heart collided with the wall of her chest as her fiancé lifted his hand and signaled the waiter. “Perhaps we should have a liqueur,” she suggested. To give this conversation a chance to cool down before they left supervised company.
He ignored her. Bill secured and paid, he placed a hand at her elbow, brought her to her feet and walked her out of the restaurant with such haste Mina’s head swam. She had consumed more than her usual share of wine with dinner with the nerves plaguing her and now it seemed like a particularly bad idea, given she’d gone and voiced thoughts she never should have.
Her mother was going to kill her. Silvio looked like he wanted to kill her.
She was going to face the consequences.
She sat as far away from Silvio as she could in the car that took them home, his usual driver at the helm. Her fiancé sat stone-faced beside her, not uttering a word as they drove through the streets of Palermo to the posh, aristocratic neighborhood of Montepellegrino where she and her mother lived. If it was possible for a man to be utterly furious without showing any outward sign of it, her fiancé had mastered it. His anger emanated from him like a red cloud.
When the car pulled up in front of her mother’s house, she breathed a sigh of relief. Silvio got out of the car, came around and opened her door. She took his hand, swung her legs out of the car and straightened. “Silvio—”
“Wait here,” her fiancé told his driver in a low tone.
“That isn’t necessary,” she murmured, panicked because her mother was out at the opera. “I think I’m just tired. I’m sure if I—”
Silvio clamped his fingers hard around hers and propelled her toward the villa. She fumbled in her purse for her keys and found them with shaking fingers. Silvio frowned as she pushed the key into the lock. “Where is the staff?”
“It’s Manuel’s night off.” He had been off for over a year, as in permanently off, but she wasn’t about to tell Silvio they had no staff because they were penniless.
Silvio loosened his tie as he walked past her into the salon. “Pour me a drink.”
She wanted to refuse, wanted desperately for him to leave, because she didn’t like the vibe coming off him, but to reject his suggestion would only add fuel to the fire.
Crossing to the bar, she took a glass from the cabinet and poured him a Cognac, her hands trembling as she put the bottle down. Silvio watched her with a hooded gaze as she turned and carried the glass over to him.
She handed him the tumbler, flinching as his fingers brushed hers. His dark gaze turned incendiary. “We are marrying in front of hundreds of people in two days, Mina. What is behind this sudden display of nerves?”
She didn’t love him. She didn’t even like him. If the truth be known, she was afraid of him.
Dannazione! If only she could sell the ring her father had left her without marrying him. But the condition in her father’s will had been unbreakable. She had to be married to get her hands on the ring.
“It’s like I said.” She lifted her gaze to her fiancé’s. “It seems very fast and I—I wish I knew you better. I would feel more comfortable.”
He took a sip of the Cognac. “You did not go on and on about knowing me when your mother sold you off to the highest bidder. You were happy to snare Palermo’s most eligible bachelor. So don’t cry foul now, Mina. We will come to know each other.”
She lowered her gaze. He was right. It had been as much a business deal as if her mother had forked over an old-fashioned dowry for her except she had nothing and she was being traded for her looks and childbearing ability. Which, she thought hysterically, she didn’t even know if she had.
The thud of her fiancé’s glass hitting the coffee table brought her head up. “Perhaps you are nervous about us,” he suggested. “You’ve been playing the ice queen so long we haven’t had a chance to get properly acquainted.” His eyes glittered as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and drew her to him. “Since we are very nearly married, I suggest we take some time to do that now.”
Her heart thumped in her chest. “My mother—”