Sensations threatened to overwhelm her, the silk of her dress caressing her, and the cool night air on her bare legs. The warmth of her soft cashmere coat and scarf. The flare of desire that roared in Massimo’s eyes when he opened her car door. All of these sensations contrasted with the hard, inscrutable expression he wore as they approached the restaurant. The well-dressed doorman opened the thick wooden doors, and she ached for the exquisite tenderness of his touch on her back, guiding her through the entryway and into the dark warmth of the restaurant. It never came.
Massimo said a few low words to the host, then gestured to the staircase that led to the second floor of the elegant restaurant, past curious onlookers. As he nodded to familiar faces, Catarina was reminded of just how much she disliked being in the spotlight. Her mother had always been the object of interest at high-profile appearances, drawing attention away from her, but here, she felt on display. She felt exposed right at the moment her defenses were down. But she had a plan, one that had kept her from listening to the old voice inside begging her to flee, run far away from the rawness she felt when she was near him.
Massimo led them to a circular table next to a window that curved out above the street. Though the distance from other guests gave them a bit of privacy, the table was visible to anyone who entered the second floor. Just the kind of audience Massimo had wanted, thought Catarina. It shouldn’t bother her, this public theater of their relationship. After all, this was exactly what they’d planned, exactly what she had signed up for. And she did want to ease some of the gossip about their relationship that the photo had stirred up, at least to give them some space until they had an answer about the pregnancy. Still, it bothered her. Where was the man who had cooked for her and then worshipped her body with his? She wanted another glimpse of the man she had opened her heart to back in the remote cabin in Norway; the man who had shown her his pain on the plane ride home. Massimo seemed determined not to be that man.
He pulled out her chair from the table, making sure to keep his distance. The silver and glassware glistened under the light of the candles, and through the window the Duomo twinkled in the darkness. Just a week ago, she would have been perfectly satisfied with this evening, ready to play this role in exchange for the kind of freedom she had craved. Now everything had changed. Now that she knew what was possible between them, she could no longer settle for less.
The server came to present the evening’s menu, and Catarina found her mind wandering to the impassive man across from her. She had absolutely no idea what he was thinking. When the server left the table, Catarina took a deep breath, then met his gaze.
“A few days ago, you asked me what I wanted,” she said. “I have a new answer.”
Her words had played through his mind all day, singingYou are morein that silken caress of her voice, tempting him with a promise he knew wasn’t real. The fire between them was a living thing, sparking to life at unpredictable times, taunting him to forget everything that he had spent his life building. Massimo should have felt suffocated by the oppressive heat of it. Instead, he burned hotter, the temptation growing stronger.
These dangerous feelings were starting to feel as inevitable as the tide, an unstoppable force of the ocean that flowed high on the banks of his self-restraint each time she was near. Now these vast, tumultuous waters were never out of sight.
A cloud of foreboding had hovered over them since he had picked up Catarina. He hated the calm facade she had masked herself with throughout the silent car ride. How maddening it was that he had sought her out for precisely this skill that was haunting him. Two competing desires warred in him: He craved the passion she had shown him every time they touched, and yet he absolutely could not tolerate the idea of a passion that threatened what was now and would always be his first priority, the redemption of his family’s name. And even more maddening was the threat that lingered every time he considered this war of opposing forces inside him: He knew what happened when passion won this struggle. He had seen it play out for his entire life. And yet, he was still tempted.
But he would manage this point of vulnerability. He had successfully managed his parents until they were no longer a weakness but an obstacle he had overcome on his path to success, something to draw strength from. Though this success no longer felt like the balm it always had been. Still, Massimo had spent the evening telling himself that there was absolutely no reason to be uneasy. This supper was simply a formality, and yet he couldn’t escape the feeling that something fundamental had changed since he had left her apartment earlier in the day. Now, as she sat across from him, her chin lifted in a hint of defiance and her lovely brown eyes clear, the foreboding cloud grew darker.
But Massimo Carandini had never backed away from a challenge. He and his brother had rebuilt an entire empire on their single-minded rebuke of their father’s course in their quest to redeem their family’s name.
He set aside these feelings, lifted an eyebrow and responded to her comment. “Just days ago, you said you had everything you needed. Has something changed?”
“Weren’t you the one who questioned my desires?” she said mildly, though her eyes flashed with heat, as if she, too, was picturing the scene in the bedroom when he had held himself over her, taunting her with the question of what she wanted. Her heavy lashes fell for a moment, and when she looked at him again, the heat was gone. “I should think you would be happy to learn that I have reconsidered.”
He dismissed the wisp of unease that ran through him, reminding himself that he was, in fact, happy that she had finally given in and come to the bargaining table. She would put forth her demands and he would reiterate his. Maybe the possibility of a baby was bringing out the practical side in her.Their baby. The words joined the unsettling mix of feelings that brewed inside him, but he kept them under control. “I eagerly await hearing of your desires.”
Catarina straightened in her chair and leveled him with her gaze.
“I want a husband who loves and respects me,” she said in a voice that was soft and yet devastatingly final. “Whether or not there is a baby…” Her voice wavered at this last word. “I want a family where love is at the center of all the choices we make together. Though I am far from ready for a baby, I will do everything to be the mother that our child needs, and I want the same from you. A child should be surrounded by love.”
Her chest rose and fell, as if she was steeling herself for her next sentence. Massimo was frozen in place, unable to look away. It felt as if he was watching this slow-motion train wreck from the outside. For a moment, her gaze faltered. Her chest rose and fell again, as if she was shoring up strength. When she met his gaze again, her eyes were clear. “That is what I want from you, Massimo. Love.”
A maelstrom of desperation and fury thundered through him. “And you are not willing to compromise on that at all?”
She shook her head, and he could see the determination in the set of her jaw and her unflinching gaze. This was not a negotiation at all. It was an ultimatum.
Massimo unclenched his teeth and kept his expression blank. “How can you speak of a life devoting yourself to the needs of your child when you are unwilling to compromise? I have already made far more concessions than I agreed to when I entered this bargain.”
She swallowed, the movement in her long, slim neck betraying hesitancy.
“None of this has been what I agreed to,” she said. “But I know now that there is no other way forward for me. Not with you.”
He hated the waver in her voice, underlining the truth behind her words. And there was a part of him that needed to give her what she wanted. But she was asking for far too much.
It was as if she had pried open the most vulnerable part of him, exposing it for them both to view, right here in the restaurant. The bone-deep need to fight back against this feeling was overtaking him. He knew exactly what he needed to do right now. He needed to lie. He could promise her something vague, like that he would grow to love her. Just a few simple words that she needed to hear.
And yet…
He couldn’t do it. Massimo stared across the table as the rush of emotions he had been fighting the entire evening hit him. He couldn’t find enough air as he drank her in, paralyzed by her beauty, by the sound of her voice as it sang through him, by the overwhelming need to touch her again. He was paralyzed byher. She deserved what she wanted, and yet it would crush him if he gave it to her.
He swiped a hand over his face. “You are asking for the one thing you know I cannot give you.”
Catarina did not try to hide the hurt that slashed across her face. “Then I suppose this conversation is over.”
Massimo had little memory of what they ate or how they got through the excruciating meal. He no longer cared what observers at the tables around them detected, nor did he care about what might be written in next week’s edition ofGente. The dignified lift of her chin was a devastatingly sharp knife that twisted each time he met her gaze, silently reminding him of what he knew he could not give.
The ride home was silent, and she didn’t look at him as they crossed the entry hall of her apartment building for the elevator. When the doors opened at the top floor, the only sound was the clack of their shoes on the polished marble floor. She stopped in front of her doorway, and he could hear her shallow breaths as she turned the key and opened it. The relentless charge between them sparked and surged, twinged with desperation. She was so temptingly close.
