“No.” Nico’s voice was like ice. The sunset that had been so vibrant and bright had turned dark shades of bruises and blood, and the sea now seemed deathly black. “Put her from your mind. She’s not family. You are.” He set his jaw, clenching his hands at his sides. “Don’t let her drive a wedge between us, Honora. Do you want to be my wife?”
She sucked in her breath. “Now you’re threatening to leave me?”
“I’m simply stating a fact.” Nico looked at her, and felt nothing. “Either you’re with me, or you’re against me. You must choose.”
“I choose you,” she choked out. “Of course I do.”
He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he exhaled. He held out his arms, and after a brief hesitation, she walked into his embrace, leaning her cheek against his heart.
But as he stroked her hair, Nico had the unsettling feeling that something had changed between them.
His sweet wife had betrayed him, attacking him without warning. He would have to be on his guard from now on. Raise walls to protect himself. Make sure he didn’t feel too much. Stay distant. Stay numb.
Because Nico would never let anyone hurt him, ever again. Not even her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE NEXT EVENING, Honora looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She took a deep breath.
The formal gown she’d had made for her in Naples was simple but pretty. The length was short, as it was still August, and soft pink, with an overlay of beadwork. Her dark hair was in a chignon high on her head, glossy and sleek.
At over eight months pregnant, she felt like a whale, but her husband’s eyes still lit up when he came into the bedroom. “You look beautiful, cara.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks burned hot. Nico looked almost unbearably handsome to her. His powerful body was barely contained by the civilized, perfectly tailored tuxedo.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a fistful of sparkling jewels. “I brought you a gift.”
Stepping behi
nd her, he placed a cold necklace of enormous rectangle-cut emeralds over her collarbone. As he attached the clasp, he lowered his head and kissed the crook of her neck, making her shiver with dangerous desire.
“Perfect,” he said huskily.
She wondered if he would think her so perfect if he knew whom she’d invited to the ball tonight.
Honora faced him, her heart pounding. After his ultimatum on the yacht, he thought she’d given up the issue of his stepmother. But she could not let him keep going down the path he was on. It could only lead to the destruction of his soul. And hers.
Last night, after they’d returned to the villa, he’d kissed her with such sweet tenderness, stroking her body so slowly, so gently, taking his time, so when he’d finally brought her to aching fulfillment, she almost couldn’t bear the intensity of her own joy.
But even then, beneath it all, she’d known she still had to stand up for what was right. She couldn’t remain silently, passively married to a man who was so intent on destroying his own family. After all, if Nico couldn’t forgive the stepmother who’d once been too lost in her own pain to do the right thing, how could Honora expect anything but the same for her and the baby—that they’d be punished or exiled for the slightest transgression?
Either you’re with me, or you’re against me. You must choose.
She was married to him, pregnant with his baby. She was in love with him. She was on Nico’s side. Of course she was.
But sometimes, being on someone’s side had to mean being able to tell them when they were wrong. Even if it made them angry. Even if it caused trouble.
If you don’t like something, don’t suffer in silence, he’d told her. Be honest. Speak up.
And that had just been about a plate of sautéed mushrooms. This was about the rest of their lives.
But she was afraid. More afraid than she’d ever been in her life. Inviting Egidia was a huge risk. Honora knew that if Nico could just see her, talk to her in person, they would finally reconcile. He would either forgive her and be glad, or—
Or he wouldn’t.
“Nico.” She swallowed hard. “There’s something you should...”
“Yes?” He looked down at her expectantly.