What thehellhad he been thinking?
Was he really so arrogant that he’d believed sharing paradise in his bed would mean Callie would forget how she’d come to be there, or if not to forget it but to forgive it? And had her furious rejection of him injured his pride to the extent that he would allow her to endanger herself…?
Fuck.
Why the hell would she trust him aboutanythingwhen his first moments with her had been a lie?
As much as it hurt his heart to imagine his oldest friend hurt, it made his heart turn into ice to imagine Callie endangered. If so much as a hair on her stubborn, beautiful head was hurt…
Fuck!
He couldn’t just go tearing after her and demand that she keep Niccolo in the dark after all. Not now. He’d told her she needed to let Georgia live with the consequences of her choices. Callie deserved the same freedom. He should never have taken her freedom from her.
He straightened.
He couldn’t – wouldn’t – stop her, but he could protect her from any fallout. He could do that. He had the means. Protect Niccolo too. And Georgia and the baby if it came to it. Protect them all.
“Dante? Are you still there?” his sister asked.
“Yes,” he dragged out as his fractured thoughts coalesced into a coherent plan. Then, in a stronger voice, added, “I need to go. I’ll be in Accardiano as soon as I can.”
Chapter Thirteen
Callie handed over the second half of the money to the taxi driver. A thousand euros. Two thousand euros in total. Not her money. Dante’s money.
She didn’t even have a phone number for him. Not that she could call him. The battery of her phone was dead, she’d forgotten to charge her portable battery before she’d left England so that was dead too, and the driver didn’t have a charger in his car. She hadn’t been able to speak to Georgia for the same reason. She didn’t even know why she wanted to speak to Dante. More that knowing she’d left with no means to contact him again made her feel... she didn’t know. Empty came close to describing it but not close enough. Which was ridiculous as she never wanted to speak to the bastard again.
She’d been dropped at the edge of Accardiano at the bottom of a steep incline. Only seven a.m., and already the place was heaving with star-spotters eager to catch a glimpse of the bride and groom. An enormous television had been set up on the beach for the public to gather.
Dragging her heavy legs up the hill, she soon came across a café busy with eager patrons and spotted a couple of freetables inside. After buying herself a cornetti and a cappuccino, Callie settled herself at a table by a wall and nearly mustered a smile to see a charging socket.
Flat.That’show she felt. Flat. Drained of her batteries.
While her phone took some much-needed power, she tried to power herself with her pastry. She was sure it tasted delicious, but her tongue registered it as cardboard. She washed it down with the cappuccino that didn’t seem to have any taste either.
Her phone now had enough charge to make a call.
It was answered on the second ring.
“Callie?”
She had to clear her throat to speak. “Hi, Georgia.”
There was a long passage of silence and then, to her complete horror, her sister burst into tears. Between sobs, she said, “I’m so sorry, Cal. I should have levelled with you from the start, but I’ve been so scared and I didn’t want to drag you into it, and I was scared that telling you would make you go into Protective Callie Mode and….”
“I understand,” she whispered. And she did. The long overnight car journey had given her a lot of time to think. The truth, as people liked to say, hurt, and Callie was hurting. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. Iamsorry. I should have trusted you to know what was best for you and your baby.”
“I know, but I should have handled it better. I’ve been such a bitch to you lately, and… please forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive.” She took a long breath. “You love him, don’t you.”
Of course she did. Callie had dyed her hair to make herself less recognisable because deep down, she’d known that if Georgia caught her fleeing to Naples, she would tell Niccolo of Callie’s plans. Because Georgia loved him. Loved him enough to let him marry another woman because theconsequences of him not marrying her were too much for her to endure.
There was a loud swallow. “I don’t know. I just know that it hurts. But he has to marry her, please, trust me on that.”
Callie closed her eyes and took a long breath. “I know he does.”
There had been no sudden realisation. No, at some point before she’d invited Dante into her bed, she’d accepted the truth about the Espositos and the danger of telling Niccolo before the wedding. She must have done because she would never have invited Dante into her bed otherwise. Would never have given the whole of herself to him the way she had.
