It was as if Emma’s honesty had lifted the lid on his ability to lie to himself. He knew that he had avoided anything emotional because of the power it had to be used against him. And he would never be victim to it again. But somehow Emma had managed to sneak beneath the armour he wore around his heart. To bring forth truths from his lips that he’d never shared with anyone other than Dimitri and Danyl.
And whilst everything in him wanted to run, to push her away, to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume him as he went further down his path of revenge, he knew that he wouldn’t. That what he was about to do would only bind them together further.
He shut off the shower, dried himself and dressed quickly. He caught his reflection in the mirror. The perfectly tailored suit of dark blue cashmere wool matched his mood. On the bedside table was the small box that he had obtained before going to the gym.
He had thought he would simply go to the shop, make the purchase and leave. But, surprising himself, he had pored over the selection, discarding the more traditional cuts and colours and focusing instead on finding something that was unique and utterly... Emma. Not the PA he had spent eighteen months working with, but the woman who had hidden fire within her—the one who in fits and bursts had shown herself to be empowered...incredible, even.
He grabbed the box in his fist, then forced himself to relax his grip, hating what that said about him and his hopes for her reaction as he stalked through the suite. The tight leash on his emotions stretched taut, he called out to Emma, but didn’t hear a reply.
He knocked on the door to her room, forcing himself to make it gentle and not pound on it as his heart was pounding within his chest. When there was still no answer he pushed gently on the door, ignoring the voice in his head that told him to turn back.
Smaller than his, though not by much, the room stretched out before him in rich, bold contemporary colours of black, grey and red. Emma had pushed back the curtains, revealing the night-time sky that trespassed over the race course as dusk beat a hasty retreat. Or perhaps it was Antonio who was trespassing...
He turned towards the bathroom, where he could hear the clicking of her heels on marble flooring. He was about to turn around and leave when the bathroom door opened and in walked Emma...
And his breath caught in his lungs.
She was incredible. So beautiful, so strong and powerful.
And he hated the thought that she didn’t realise it.
From her feet, the deep, rich burnt orange silk bled upwards into lighter tones of amber and yellow, no less bold, but bright and eye-catching. The dress lay over her chest in a deep V, revealing the valley between her breasts. It clung to a waist that couldn’t be broader than the span of his hand. It flared out from there and hung all the way to the floor.
But it wasn’t until she stepped further into the room, when the high split revealed perfectly toned legs that went on for miles, that the breath that had been balled up in his chest finally escaped on an inaudible whoosh.
* * *
The moment she had seen the dress that had been delivered to the suite a few hours earlier her heart had almost stopped. She’d been surprised that her first reaction hadn’t been instant refusal, hadn’t been the thought that she could never wear such a revealing creation, but instead she was struck by how it reminded her of one of her mother’s paintings. It had the same colours of the first piece her mother had produced after Emma had returned home from her last hospital stay.
There was no way that Antonio could have known about the painting, let alone the impact of the dress. But as she’d lifted the delicate material from the white box it had arrived in, and seen the way the rich golden colours shimmered in the light, she had known that she couldn’t not wear it.
So she had put it on, and stared at herself in the mirror. Simply stared. Bold and bright, the smooth silk hugged curves she had never put on display before. For all her words the night before about being positive, about embracing the future and all it had to offer, she realised that perhaps she had left this behind. Allowed it to be swallowed up. That when she had thought her battle with cancer over in fact she had to continue to fight each day, to take back the things she had lost. More than her breasts and her parents’ marriage, her sensuality, her sense of self as a woman.
But now Antonio was looking at her in a way she couldn’t decipher.
‘How do I look?’
‘Amazing,’ he said without pause. ‘But there’s something missing.’
He reached into his trouser pocket and produced a small blue velvet box.
With trembling hands she took it from his palm, trying to avoid the zip and zing of electricity that passed between them. She laughed a little as she struggled with the little metal clasp on the box. But the moment her gaze caught the ring inside she stopped. Everything stopped.
It was a beautiful green sapphire, encased in rose gold. The precious stone was surrounded by tiny diamonds which continued the whole way around the band. It stole her breath—and in some part the walls around her heart.
‘It’s perfect,’ she whispered as she slipped it onto her finger. She couldn’t let him do it for her, it would mean too much.
‘I’m pleased,’ he said, holding her eyes with the same sincerity she had felt from him the night before. ‘No matter what happens, I want you to keep it.’
‘I...’ She was speechless. ‘I can’t, Antonio. I don’t deserve it.’
‘It’s not about deserve, or need. I want you to have it.’
Emma didn’t know what to say. And if, somewhere deep down, there was a single tendril of sadness that this wasn’t real, then that was her own fault. She’d known what she was getting into when she’d agreed to this deal. And just because she was emotional about it, it didn’t change a thing.
Oh, but she wished she could.
* * *