by Dani Collins
* * *
Kiara slipped out of bed and into the shower while Val was dozing, half expecting him to join her. She wanted him to, even though he had pretty much destroyed her.
He left her to shower alone, however, and she heard his voice when she was drying off. She used the adjoining door from the bathroom into the closet and discovered clothing in her size, but none of it was familiar. Still wearing the black robe that smelled of him, she crept out to find him on the balcony sharing cheese and fruit with Aurelia, teaching her the Italian names for grape and orange and peach.
“See? I told you she would join us,” he said as Kiara appeared.
“Hello, lovey,” she greeted her daughter warmly, then held up the clothes in her hand and said to Val, “These aren’t mine.”
“They are,” he confirmed.
Kiara looked at the sky blue top and the indigo skirt that were super cute, but a bolder statement than she usually made. “Where are the clothes I brought?”
“I told you how I felt about his things coming into my house.” He avoided using Niko’s name, glancing at Aurelia as though sensitive to how she might react if he mentioned the old man. “I won’t ask Mousy here to give up her attachments. She’ll grow out of most of them quickly enough, but you will wear what I provide.”
If their daughter’s tiny, listening ears and wide, curious eyes hadn’t been trained on her, Kiara might have reacted more reflexively—and heatedly—but Aurelia’s presence forced her to take a breath and mentally count to ten.
She pinned a smile on her face and used a light tone but made sarcastic use of his own words. “I wanted to give you the gift of abiding by your wishes.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“That’s why I only brought clothes I’d bought with my own money,” she continued with false cheer. “I have a little income from a handful of prints and other early works. It’s not extravagant, but neither are my tastes. Which means I don’t have to rely on anyone’s support. Not even yours.”
“But I want you to rely on me,” he said, adopting a similar tone of friendly conversation to hide the fact they were engaged in an epic power struggle.
“I know what you want.”
To consume her.
That had been obvious in the way he’d made love to her. She could withstand that in bed, barely, but she wouldn’t let him take every shred of independence she possessed. It had been too hard won.
“I am a fashion mogul, Kiara,” he said as though explaining it to a child. “That means I am under constant scrutiny for the way I look. My wife must be as much a brand ambassador as I am.” He wore a plain white T-shirt over a pair of wrinkled, linen pants, casually elegant in a way she never could be.
Her stomach tightened.
“You do realize the industry will lose its collective mind if we marry? I said if!” she added quickly when a slow smile began to form on his lips. “I am the opposite of iconic. You couldn’t have picked a worse person if your reputation is important to you.”
“I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that I never do as I’m told. If I want my wife to have curves, then curves she shall have. The fashion world will adjust accordingly.”
Dear God, if she could have a tenth of his confidence. She looked at the clothes she held.
“Klaus is my lead designer. A genius. I had him drop everything and I want to see how he did with the little direction I gave him. He’s sending a team to measure you properly, by the way.”
“And I promise to be ever so polite when I explain things like this aren’t me.”
“How do you know if you haven’t even tried them on? I’m surprised at you, Kiara. How would you feel if people dismissed your paintings without even looking at them?” Humor made his silver eyes gleam like chrome. He had her with that one and knew it.
She pressed her lips together, annoyed in the extreme as she flung around and went back to the closet, determined to hate this outfit.
Curse him and his designer. The cut somehow balanced her figure, so she looked taller and more evenly proportioned. There was something crisp and eye-catching in the color palette, too. Feminine without being frilly. Confident in her curves, authoritative, yet sensual.
There would be no fading into the wallpaper in clothes like this, though. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
She returned to the balcony and Aurelia gasped. “Oh, Mummy, you’re pretty!”
“Thank you, baby,” she murmured, but Val’s was the judgment she waited with held breath to hear.
She was doing it again, she realized as his critical eye traveled over her. She was trying to fit in, be something she wasn’t, longing to earn acceptance that wouldn’t come.
She hated herself then for being so needy. Still an orphan at her deepest level, yearning for a place. For love.
“I’ll have Klaus remove this button.” Val fingered the slit in the skirt, not even touching her, but setting her alight all the same. “It distracts from an otherwise perfect vision. Do you like it?”
His gaze came up to hers, absent of mockery, only lit with such admiration she could have fallen into his gaze like dropping through a looking glass into another world.
She tried for blasé, saying, “I wouldn’t paint in it,” but she did like it. Nothing felt constraining and the textures were nice. She liked that it made her feel pretty. She liked that he liked it.
Somehow, she would have to pull herself back from the brink of this chasm. Otherwise, she might allow him to take her over completely, the way he clearly intended to.
But she still obeyed his crooked finger and bent to touch her mouth to his, saying a husky “Grazie...” against his lips.
His taste swept through her, as irresistible as the man himself.
CHAPTER SIX
KIARA HAD KNOWN this period after Niko passed would be disruptive and she might not have as much time in her studio as she normally liked. But she hadn’t counted on trying to turn a guest cottage into a makeshift studio between meetings with architects and clothing designers, decorators, and stoic lawyers who were drawing up a marriage contract.
She kept telling Val she wasn’t ready to commit while he kept saying, “I’ll be ready when you are.”
Then he inevitably made love to her, showing her exactly what she would gain by becoming his wife.
She was desperately trying to retain her autonomy, trying to envision the place she would have in this world of his, but it was hard.
Her studio was usually the space that restored her. It was her sanctuary and the place where she meditated on her problems and made herself whole. The new one would take time to build, however, and Val insisted she go ahead with meetings about layout and materials and breaking ground even though she hadn’t agreed to marry him.
What if she didn’t? she kept wondering.
Wasted money didn’t seem to faze him. He was having Klaus design her a wedding gown, too.
Perhaps Val thought if she was invested enough in her new studio, she would be unable to resist marrying him. What he didn’t realize was that all of these meetings were getting between her and a return to painting. The fact she wasn’t painting was putting her on edge in a way she hadn’t experienced in years, not since right after Aurelia had been born and she’d been overwhelmed by her new responsibilities.
At least today Val had gone into Milan on errands. She had a feeling he was finalizing wedding arrangements, but she gratefully seized the opportunity to properly organize the bungalow into a space she could use. Then she was going to use it. She would spend a few hours with brushes and a canvas on her easel and finally decide whether to stay here with him or go back to the villa.
Oh, part of her longed to go back to the island where life was simple!
But she couldn’t.
The way Aurelia was bonding with her father was everything Kiara
had ever wanted for her. And Val was so patient with her, so gentle. He claimed to have no tenderness in him, but his hard features softened every time he saw her. He was turning into an amazing parent, learning the fine art of misdirection to avoid an outburst and watching their tot like a hawk while giving her space to roam and explore.
All of that was turning Kiara’s heart inside out. She could see there was a good man inside him, but he only offered glimpses of him, refusing to let him fully reveal himself. She wanted to hate him for that guard of his, but she was too enthralled by the side of him he did let her see—the virile, generous lover. Being locked with him in sensual ecstasy gave her the sense of closeness and unity she’d longed for all her life. As though she’d found her match. The place she belonged.
But it was demoralizing to be so defenseless when he was always in control of everything from their lovemaking to the cadence of their days. He never seemed as rent from the world as she was by their physical encounters. He withdrew afterward without words of affection or fondness. He might compliment her and hold chairs and make endless requests of the staff on her behalf, but she was certain he would have done that for any woman who shared his bed.
Given the way he was withholding his heart, she knew she couldn’t offer hers. It would only be trampled and destroyed, but it was a struggle every hour of every day. One she didn’t know if she could withstand for a lifetime.
“Scusami...” A timid maid knocked on the open sliding door.
Kiara bit back a scream. She had expressly asked that she not be disturbed and realized that she would have to train the staff that when she said that, she meant it.
“Signora Casale has arrived to see you,” the maid said.
Kiara’s heart lurched. At least Aurelia was firmly ensconced upstairs. They’d had a lively morning in the pool, and she was pooped out, watching a show and having a snack with the nanny.
Kiara hadn’t bothered with a shower, too anxious to get to work. She had ruthlessly sleeked her hair back into a ponytail, but the ends ballooned out in a cloud of frizz behind her head. She wore painting clothes of jeans chopped at the knee and a loose T-shirt.
She had an urge to run up and put on a decent day dress but decided against it. She doubted it was coincidence that Evelina had shown up the moment Val was out of the house. Kiara refused to give Evelina the impression she was intimidated—even though she absolutely was.
“What a lovely surprise,” she lied as she entered the lounge to find Evelina hovering with a sour look on her face. “Shall we have tea on the terrace?”
Her potential mother-in-law wore six-inch heels, a pencil skirt and an air of malicious intent. She towered over Kiara as they walked outside.
“The house is beautiful. Your influence, Val tells me,” Kiara said, trying on a compliment as they settled into an outdoor lounge around an unlit gas fire.
“Yes. I have so many excellent contacts eager to assist me at any time. Many of them are in Paris.” Evelina crossed one graceful leg over the other. “I understand you have a little art show there next week.”
The implication was obvious and it made Kiara’s stomach turn over.
Kiara realized then how often she had ducked behind Niko or Scarlett in the past. Tell me what to say, she would often implore, even when she only faced a friendly business conversation with her agent. She was tempted to invoke Val’s name as a shield but being used as a weapon was the reason Val was as cynical as he was. Besides, much as she wanted to believe he would have her back, she didn’t know that for sure.
“I do. Shall I ask my agent to send you an invite?” She played dumb, as though she wasn’t clear that she was being threatened in the most effective way. As if her palms weren’t clammy and her throat wasn’t aching with a stifled scream.
“That won’t be necessary. I’m so well-known in those circles, I’m welcome wherever I wish to go. Many would say my appearance can make or break the success of a given evening. I’m prepared to speak to critics about you. It would be such a shame if they found your work wanting. Or failed to attend at all.”
Kiara’s throat closed and the backs of her eyes stung with angry, helpless tears. She fought the sensation. Hysteria wasn’t an option. She racked her brain, barely able to form words, her jaw was clenched so hard.
“I wouldn’t want you to feel a need to interfere.” She saw a maid coming with the tea service and waved her away. “I presume this is about Niko’s will. Please understand I had nothing to do with how he structured it.”
“I’m not a stupid woman. I’ve been on my own since I was fifteen. I understand that a woman has to look out for herself and this—” she twirled a finger in the air “—was a very nice try. I’m impressed. But I have spoken to my lawyer and he agrees that Val is entitled to Niko’s fortune. If you would like to relinquish all claim to it, I will see my way clear to ensuring your little show is well received.”
Kiara was having trouble keeping down what little she’d eaten this morning. She knew for a fact that Evelina had a very shaky leg to stand on in making any claims against Niko’s fortune, but the last thing she needed was to have her lifetime dream trampled by a battle royal.
“Val doesn’t want Niko’s money,” she reminded quietly.
“Val doesn’t know what he wants,” Evelina threw back. “It most certainly isn’t you. You’re not marrying him.”
“I haven’t agreed to,” Kiara said, adding tartly, “He brings a lot of baggage.”
“You—” Evelina gathered herself the way a lightning strike might gather ions, preparing to crack the earth open. “I will destroy you.”
Angry emotion was driving color into the skin beneath the powder of Evelina’s makeup. Kiara could read it as clearly as she knew when Aurelia was building toward a tantrum.
Aurelia lost her self-control when she had no control. When Mummy said no to something she wanted.
Kiara’s mind was racing through all of her options, catching on the fact that she wasn’t without resources or options. She actually had something Evelina wanted that she could give up. It would cost her, but...
“I may have a solution.” Kiara held up a shaking hand. “Val doesn’t want me to accept the allowance I’ve been granted from Niko’s estate. He wants to support us himself. I had a mind to put that money into real estate as an investment for Aurelia. I could be persuaded to let you choose that property and occupy the house at no cost to you. It’s quite a generous amount.” She told her how much.
Evelina’s eyes were still flashing with acrimony, but her mouth trembled as she pinned it closed, trying to calculate how to play this.
“That’s if I marry him. I haven’t agreed,” Kiara said quickly. “I can leave here and live on that myself. You and I can argue over Niko’s money until the cows come home. It will be expensive and, frankly, I would think you must be tired of that fight by now.”
“You underestimate me,” Evelina assured her.
“Well, make up your mind however it suits you, but my offer stands. Of course, if I marry Val and our marriage falls apart—” Kiara licked her dry lips “—I will be forced to evict you so I could live there with Aurelia.”
“You’re buying my support of your marriage,” Evelina stated bluntly. “Bribing me to keep my nose out of it.”
“I see it as a smart investment in my daughter’s future.” She was shaking inside, skin running hot and cold.
“You have learned well at Niko’s knee. Are you going to tell Val about this arrangement?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t imagine keeping something like this from him. “If you’re worried he’ll cut off the allowance he gives you, I’ll do my best to persuade him to continue it.”
Evelina didn’t know whether to trust her; Kiara could see it. She wanted to sigh with futility. These people were so broken. Instead, she smiled as gently as she would at Aurelia when she was at her
most truculent.
“You are my daughter’s only grandparent. She wouldn’t exist if you and Niko hadn’t made Val. I think it’s right and fair that you live comfortably. Perhaps, when the time is right, you’ll introduce Aurelia to the best boutiques in Paris, since that is definitely not my forte. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
* * *
Val was waiting to announce the existence of his daughter until he and Kiara were married—and they would marry. Aurelia’s future and well-being were too important to risk. Any misgivings Kiara had could be worked out after the fact.
Her hesitation was bothering him, though. Especially because it was accompanied by a withdrawal that shouldn’t have gotten under his skin but did.
At night she was wholly his, completely abandoned to the pleasure they gave each other. Then she would spend the day pulling back in little ways. If she happened to be laughing or playing with Aurelia, her mood would dampen when he entered the room. Over a meal, she would grow animated as she spoke, then cool unexpectedly, as though regretting she had allowed herself to warm to him. She was forever switching the focus of a conversation from herself to their daughter, avoiding his attempts to learn more about her.
Outright challenge he could handle, but she went along with most of his dictates unless they concerned Aurelia. Then she would put forth an argument with calm logic. He would only realize she’d been on the defensive when her shoulders fell after winning him over to her way of thinking.
He didn’t like a quiet enemy that kept him guessing.
He didn’t want to think of her as an enemy at all. He was too enthralled with her.
He dragged her physically close every chance he got. Stripped her naked so there were no barriers between them, insatiable for her and their particular brand of madness. Connection. This thing between them was reaching the point of addiction, and he’d finally left her sleeping this morning just to prove he could.