A Deal To Carry The Italian's Heir (The Scandalous Brunetti Brothers Book 2)

by Tara Pammi

  Her arms vined around his waist, her face pressed up against his chest, she stole the ground from under him. She gave her body, her thoughts, her loyalty, and yet it felt like he didn’t have enough. “And that’s all it is, Leo?”

  “Sì.”

  He nodded, sinking his fingers into her hair. Wanting to run away from this moment as much as he wanted to stand there and hold her for all of eternity. Wanting with everything he had to tell her about the turbulence inside him.

  The solid foundation they’d built with years of friendship was still there. He trusted her more than he had anyone else in his life. And yet...there was a new intimacy between them that scared him. A sense of everything not being in his firm control, himself included. A weight on his chest as thoughts of past and future wrapped up in a vicious cycle.

  As if she’d weaved some kind of magic and created a chink in him. As if she’d unearthed a weakness in him, a vulnerability no one else had.

  And he hated being vulnerable. He found himself at the oddest of moments wondering at how all this had started. He hated that she’d come to him because he could stand up to Mario, that she’d come to him because he was wealthy and powerful enough to protect their child, that she’d agreed to be his wife only for the child... God, he was all twisted inside out.

  And until he figured out how to put himself back together, until he rid himself this ridiculous vulnerability, he needed distance.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  See you the morning of the twelfth.

  THE MORNING OF the twelfth was the morning of their wedding.

  Neha stared at the message on her cell phone, frustration and anger rising like a tide through her throat. She threw the phone onto the sofa, and plonked down next to it, her hand on her belly. Tears prickled behind her eyes. Slapping her head back, she closed her eyes to stem the confusion overwhelming her.

  They were going to be married in two days, and he told her over a pithy text that she wasn’t going to see him before that? After another week of barely giving her any time and attention? And where the hell was her own self-sufficiency? Her composure?

  God, she was too tired of wondering whether she was overreacting. If it was just her hormones or if it was truly Leonardo retreating from her. From their relationship, even before it took off.

  The tears she’d been holding back for a long time drew tracks down her cheeks. Already, she felt heartsore from all the guessing, walking on eggshells because she didn’t want to upset him, afraid what she might say that would be too much.

  It had been three weeks since the day of Silvio Brunetti’s funeral and she was at the end of her tether. She had meant to wait before telling him about the pregnancy.

  But wrapped in his arms, her body sore from his fierce lovemaking, her heart tender and desperately needing an anchor to bring him back to her, to the common footing they had started this with, she’d blurted it out.

  And he’d responded as she’d hoped, in a moment that had clearly been hard for him.

  He’d kissed her with a tenderness that had her heart bursting, asked so many questions, kept her on the topic for so long that she’d gone to sleep a little worried about him, yes, but her heart full of hope that things would work out.

  But the day after, he’d barely said goodbye before he’d left on another trip.

  She’d given Leo time. She’d given him of herself when he’d been so angry and hurting and grieving, when all she’d wanted was to run away to her previously sterile and safe life. Where boundaries were not blurred and he’d been the immovable rock in her tumultuous life, her safe harbor when everything was sinking.

  But now, he was the rocky outcropping she’d have to save herself from.

  She honestly hadn’t even minded that after that emotional outburst, after plainly rejecting her offer to talk, he’d wanted sex. Forget not minding, she’d needed it, too. She’d needed to feel close to him after seeing the pain of his childhood rip him open like that, knowing it was the only way he would let her comfort him. She’d needed to know that beneath the hurting, lashing out, he was still the Leo she trusted above any other man.

  If he wanted to use her body in times of ravaging grief, she was more than happy to be used.

  Because that’s how much he meant to her. Because that’s what she wanted this relationship to be—them holding each other through the worst that life threw at them, that was the family she’d always wanted to build.

  But the aftermath of that night, the aftermath of her impulsively whispered admission in the dark of the dawn, nothing had been right.

  They hadn’t come through that night intact on the other side. Something had been broken. Or reality had changed. For her.

  Their lovemaking had a deeper level now, sometimes torrid, sometimes his tenderness brought tears to her eyes, and yet the rift between them seemed to grow increasingly wide, almost insurmountable. If she’d thought giving herself to him freely in his moment of pain would fix anything, it had done the opposite.

  He’d retreated from her so far and so fast, as if he’d betrayed far too much of himself that night.

  Oh, he was polite, and concerned for her. He watched over her like a mama bear, he granted her wishes before she could even think of them; he was the perfect lover, the perfect companion, and when they married in less than two days, he’d be the perfect husband.

  The perfect husband, the perfect father, the perfect provider, and yet it wasn’t what she wanted at all. Not anymore.

  What he had promised, what she had wanted, was not enough anymore.

  Pushing away from the sofa, she walked into the closet where her wedding dress hung. Panic was a bird in her chest, wings fluttering incessantly—night or day, wondering if she was making too much of nothing. Wondering if she was making a huge mistake. Wondering when he would do or say something that would bring her out of this misery.

  The expensive, ivory silk rustled with a quiet whisper when she ran her fingers over it.

  All the arrangements had been made for a quiet civil wedding, with only family present, but Neha hadn’t been able to give up on the wedding gown. The minute she’d expressed a long-buried wish for an intimate wedding with a beautiful gown, Leo had made it come true within hours.

  A custom design by an A-list designer specially commissioned for Neha. The straight lines of the dress highlighted her bust, falling into a loose drape from there as her belly was already rounded, to her knees. Stylish and elegant, it was Neha to the T.

  It wasn’t the traditional style or length but it suited them perfectly, she’d thought then.

  Because she and Leo hadn’t started in a normal way, either, but their relationship, she’d foolishly hoped, would only go from strength to strength.

  A diamond necklace had been delivered yesterday—tiny, multiple diamonds delicately set into platinum wire—so exquisite that Neha was afraid to take it out of its plush velvet bed.

  For my beautiful bride, the note had said.

  And a week ago it was the tour of the ten-acre smallish estate he’d found on the shores of Lake Como where, if she wanted, he’d have the waiting architect design and build a state-of-the-art, industrial-size kitchen for Neha to play in. Mountains in the background and the lake on the other side, it was the most beautiful place Neha had ever seen. And only ten minutes from the Brunetti villa.

  Interviews for nannies, a horde of lawyers to better settle the IP of So Sweet Inc., a twenty-four-hour companion/nurse to stay with her for the duration of the last two months and after—something she’d fought for instead of starting now. There was no end to the number of things he had arranged for her.

  And yet...

  Will you be at the villa tonight?

  She texted him standing in her closet, her chest heavy with a weight she couldn’t shift.

  If he was there, she could ask him if everything was okay. Sh
e’d let him hold her, like only he could, and they would talk. And maybe she’d tell him that she...

  The answer came after a few minutes.

  No. I won’t be.

  I can fly to wherever you are tonight.

  There wasn’t even that bubble that said he was typing.

  We’ve hardly seen each over the past two weeks.

  Her heart crawled into her throat, thudding, as she waited.

  Nothing.

  She sent another, something in her chest cracking wide open.

  I miss you.

  Most of her life, she’d spent it on eggshells with her mother, wondering if she was asking too much, wondering if she should be even stronger, waiting to be loved. God, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life like that, too.

  She didn’t want her future to be like that. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him, how much his withdrawal hurt. She wanted to demand he open up to her, she wanted to tell him how much she...how much she loved him.

  God, she loved him. She’d loved him for so long. She’d loved from a distance. She’d seen him grow into the most honorable man she knew, and today, she wanted a part of him. She wanted his heart.

  She texted again, her fingers slipping on the smooth screen, her thoughts unfurling, her emotions unraveling like the spool of a yarn her mum used.

  I want to be near you.

  His answer came finally.

  Only a few days and then we’ll be a family.

  A family? But this wasn’t the family she truly wanted. This distance between them, this game he played with her, these doubts and confusion, this misery in her heart...

  She wanted more, she wanted everything—she wanted his heart.

  She jumped as her phone chirped. Fingers shaking, she swiped to answer.

  “Neha, what is it? Are you unwell, cara?”

  “No,” she said, the urgent concern in his voice jolting her rationality. “I’m fine. I have an appointment in a week but everything’s good.”

  The silence on the line stretched from relief to tense in that awkward way she hated.

  “I just... I’m not feeling good today. In my head, I mean. This wedding and us... I barely saw you the last few weeks. I know, I know, you’re busy with figuring out the identity of new stockholder and I just...this doesn’t feel right, Leo.”

  “Are you having an anxiety attack about the wedding? I told you we should hire that companion full-time starting now.”

  Whatever choke hold had been gripping Neha, whatever second-guessing she’d done over three long weeks—castigating herself, telling herself that she shouldn’t demand too much of his time, his emotional energy, pulling herself back, wondering if they’d return to that open, honest place before that night—all of it collapsed into dust at his careless question.

  Fury vibrated through her so hard that for a few seconds she couldn’t even breathe, much less speak.

  “Neha, cara, if you’re—”

  “Will you come if I’m having an anxiety attack?”

  “What kind of a question is that?”

  “It’s an honest question. Answer me, Leo. If I was frothing at the mouth having an attack, what would you do?”

  “I would be there as soon as possible.”

  “Because that falls within the purview of the boundaries you’ve drawn in this relationship?”

  “Neha, you’re worrying me.”

  “I don’t want your bloody worry, Leo. I want you.”

  “What’s the distinction?” she heard him say and then sigh. “You don’t sound like yourself, cara. I’ll be there in a few hours. In the meantime, I want you to call Nat and talk to her.”

  “I’m not having a breakdown here, Leo. So stop. Just stop.” A laugh fell from her mouth. “In fact, after a long time, I’m shedding that final shackle around my heart.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She knew she had to do it like this. Take the coward’s way out. Because if she saw him, if he touched her, if he held her, if he looked at her with those beautiful eyes that promised so much and yet gave nothing, she’d never be able to walk away.

  She’d spend the rest of her life, loving him so much, waiting for the little crumbs he gave her, wondering what would be too much to ask, wondering what was too little to take, wondering if she was settling again.

  She flopped to the floor in her closet, her knees unwilling to hold her up. Her body shaking. Her heart breaking into so many pieces. “I can’t do this, Leo.”

  “You can’t do what?”

  “I can’t marry you. Not like this.”

  “Not like what? Neha, what’s going on? What has got you upset like this?”

  “I’m in love with you. So much. I’ve loved you for so long that you’re a part of my soul. A part of me. And you...”

  I’ll never be vulnerable like that...

  The words he’d said that night reverberated in the distance between them, mocking her.

  She rubbed at the tears on her cheeks but more came. The silence was so deafening, as if she had said the words into a bottomless abyss and they would never be returned to her. They would only be swallowed up.

  “It’s so strange, isn’t it?” Her voice was unbelievably strong, clear, in contrast to his silence. “I was so determined to keep this all rational and in between the lines. I thought, I’m prepared for whatever little he gives me. I have wanted you for so long, from a distance, and there you were, offering me everything, and honestly, I couldn’t believe that this dream I had was coming true. But then I realized your everything is really...not much, is it?”

  “So you’ll walk away from this after all the promises you made? You’ll bolt at the first hurdle just like my mother once did, like a coward? Will you make me a stranger to my child?” His voice was piercingly cold, soft. As if he were determined to remove any emotion from it.

  “How dare you? How dare you call me a coward? How dare you turn this on me when you can’t even acknowledge the hole she left in your life?

  “And no, I’m not backing out, Leo. I’m doing what you taught me to do. I’m standing up for myself. Dead things should be cut away, sì?

  “You’re stunted. Your heart is dead.

  “Even in your weakest moments, you never reveal yourself to me. Any time I get close, you run away. You will never be vulnerable. You will never go through that pain she caused you again, you won’t even risk it.

  “A month ago, even a week ago, I was okay with that. I was going to have this family with you. It was more than I’d ever imagined having...

  “But I love you so much and I want to be able to say it. I want to be able to show it. I want so much, and this little, it’s not enough.

  “This is me doing what’s healthy for me and our baby. This is me putting myself first.

  “I can’t marry you and lose the rest of myself. I can’t spend the rest of my life loving you and resenting you for it. And believe me, our child will be better off with two parents who live apart than two who would stay together and destroy each other.”

  Neha cut the call and in the terrifying silence gave into the sobs crashing through her.

  * * *

  Leo waited in the gleaming white marble lounge the maid had shown him to. It had been three weeks since Neha had called off their wedding. Three weeks since he’d discovered what Vincenzo Cavalli had been up to in the last two months, while Leo’s own life had been turned upside down by the one woman he’d trusted more than anyone.

  And yet, a day after the realization that Silvio’s stock was firmly in Vincenzo’s ownership, Leo found he didn’t give a damn anymore. The man could raze BFI to the ground for all he cared right now.

  “Hello, Mr. Brunetti.”

  He turned when he heard the soft voice. It was the first time he’d taken the time to study Pa
dma Fenelli. Her hair was cut into a fashionable bob and she wore a beige pantsuit that was expertly cut.

  The woman was a complete contrast, even physically, to Neha, from her fair skin to the fragile, almost elfin features to the carefully but expertly applied makeup. She looked like an exquisite doll that might break if handled even a little roughly.

  Leo found himself greedily looking for signs of Neha in that beautiful face. But there was not the fire in Padma’s eyes that Neha’s held, no strength of character in the thrust of her chin, no fierce sparkle to her smile that Neha’s crooked one had.

  “Mario’s not here,” the older woman said, a small flash of belligerence in her eyes.

  “I know,” he said, wondering at the way she squared her shoulders as if she could take him on. “I came to speak to you. About your daughter.”

  Her fingers fidgeted relentlessly with a napkin in her hand, her diminutive frame shaking with alarming tremors. “What’s there to talk about with me? You’ve ditched her just as my husband predicted, as soon as she’s of no use to you. She deserves better. Lord, she’s been strong for so long and she deserves better than all of us. And with all the social media sites positing that she’s expecting, how could—”

  “It’s not a rumor. Neha’s expecting. My child, yes. That’s how this whole thing began.” Even to his own ears, Leo sounded infinitely weary. The weight of the past few weeks without Neha had gouged a hole in him. “She wanted to have a child and she thought I would be the only man who’d take on Mario and keep him out of the child’s life.

  “That’s the only reason she came to me. That’s why she chose me.”

  Even as the last words left him, Leo realized how much bitterness he had amassed in the last few weeks at that. Yes, it had started like that, but Cristo...