The intimacy of what they’d shared these last few days was an intimacy neither of them had shared before, Francesca because she’d been wrapped in cotton wool – or, as he imagined, pinned down by her parents and triple wrapped in it with gaffer tape – and him because he engineered things so any lover left before breakfast. He would never have even entertained taking the Espositos on if he had a wife or child to consider. Wouldn’t have done a quarter of the things he’d done to build his fortune if he’d had to think of possible repercussions to those he loved. If his parents ever settled back on dry land, it would be far from Italy.
The only reason he hadn’t got bored with Francesca was because he’d not been out in the world to have another woman catch his eye. They’d been stuck in his apartment, doing what was forbidden, so of course the sex was hot. Scorching. Forbidden fruit always tasted the sweetest. Once he gave her back to her family, she would quickly fade from his mind, her taste forgotten.
That she could even entertain a future with him was all wrong, and he cursed himself for ever accepting that damned bet, and then cursed himself even harder that he’d kept her inhis bed since. He wasn’t an adolescent. He knew how to keep control of himself, so why the hell had he let himself lose all common sense when it came to Francesca? Forget the danger of her family learning they were lovers; she’d been a virgin for heaven’s sake! Of course it would mean more to her than it would to anyone else! That she wanted to protect him…
God, this was all so wrong. He’d snatched her from the street. He’d been holding her hostage. Why the hell would she want to protect a man like him? He’d made no bones about the kind of man he was, andstillshe…
It suddenly occurred to him that it had all been just words. Meaningless words to a woman who knew exactly what underlined the life he lived.
But she didn’t knowhim. Not the real him. All she’d seen was the private man in confinement, not the man he was in the real world. If she knew that man, she wouldn’t even entertain a future with him, and it came to him, how he could show her that man and save her from hurting herself with impossible dreams.
He would show her the truth of his world. Show her the truth of him.
“Are you being serious?” Francesca asked later that afternoon. “You want to take me to your club?”
He’d hit her with it once the army of lawyers who’d filled the office had left. The office had been a hive of activity, and while she’d tried to amuse herself at their expense with snide comments about her being a hostage, her heart hadn’t been in it. Dejection was weighing heavily on her.
She didn’t want to marry Gino for herself. That would be ridiculous; he was her kidnapper. But equally, the more shelooked to the future, the colder her chest became. If she married him, she would save him, she was certain of it, but he’d dismissed the idea.
Didn’t he realise that all the reasons he’d given for not marrying her only proved she was right to care for him? He must know that marriage to her would guarantee his safety. Announcing their marriage to the world hot on the heels of the announcement about his buy-in with the Esposito Group meant the whole of Italy’s eyes would be on them. Her cousins would be forced to back off, and then once she and Gino started having babies, even they would baulk at killing the father of their own flesh and blood.
But he wouldn’t save himself by taking her offer, and there had been no chance to try and talk him round because the day had been spent on the damned contracts between him and her cousins. And now he wanted to take her to his club. She’d have been less shocked if he’d said he wanted to marry her after all.
He shrugged expansively. “Only for an hour. It’s good to show my face there when my staff aren’t expecting me, and I thought, as it’s your last night with me, I would show you a side of life you’ve never seen before. I seem to remember you requesting I take you there.”
“Yes, but I didn’t think you wanted me to leave the apartment?”
A faint smile played on his lips. “I think we both know the danger of my hostage trying to escape is over.”
She sighed a smile. Francesca had long stopped feeling like a hostage, didn’t think she ever had felt like a real one, and now she had the sensation that if Gino were to set her free right now, she would never force her legs out of the door.
“If I’m to show you anything of the world, now is the time,” he added. “The contracts will be couriered to both parties first thing in the morning. Once they’re signed, an announcementabout my buy-in to the Esposito Group will be made public, and you will be released. All being well, you will be home with your family by late-afternoon, so it’s now or never.”
As much as she longed to visit his nightclub, she shook her head. “Won’t you be putting yourself in danger? Nothing’s been signed yet.”
“Your cousins won’t do anything to screw things up. Not now. If they choose to take me out, it will be after you’re back with your family.”
Francesca couldn’t hide her flinch at this. The memory of her nightmare flooded her mind again.
“You will be perfectly safe,” he assured her, perfectly reading her face if not her thoughts. “Trust me, until that press announcement is made, your life has a higher value than anyone or anything.”
She eyed him meditatively. She’d noticed Gino speaking like this today, like he had when he’d first kidnapped her and been determined to keep her pigeon-holed as his hostage and nothing more. She’d hoped it had been for the lawyers’ benefit, but clearly not.
He was making the emotional break from her, she realised, and with a cold wave of sadness tinged with panic, realised she would never be able to convince him to marry her. As frightening and as painful as it was, she had to trust his gamble would pay off for him.
Swallowing a breath, she told herself that all this being the case, it was right for him to begin the emotional break between them. When all was said and done, he was her kidnapper, and she was his hostage, although she doubted there were many hostages in the history of kidnappings who had felt as entirely safe and secure as she had with their captor. Or as happy. Deliriously happy.
The whole thing had been a thrilling ride from start to almost-finish, and now it was almost at an end. Why not let it end with a bang that involved no explosives whatsoever?
Emotional break or not, Gino was inviting her to take a glimpse into his world before they parted for good. She could spend their last hours frightened of a future she had no control over, or she could embrace it as he was inviting her to do.
“Am I allowed to dress up?”
The strangest smile crossed over his face. “You can wear whatever you want, Chicca.”
She beamed. “Can you hurry up with your work, then? I really want to go through my wardrobe.”
Francesca had been shut away in Gino’s dressing room for over an hour. She’d eaten her dinner in record-quick time and then impatiently glared at him with sparkling eyes until he, too, had finished eating. He’d had to hold himself back, more than once, from telling her to go and get ready without him. It didn’t matter that he knew perfectly well that she would bounce to the bedroom without even thinking of escape; he needed to keep the illusion of her being there against her will going for one more night.
