When She Fell for the Billionaire

by Suzette de Borja

  Like finding a place to stay for the night.

  The driver had seemed puzzled when she said she didn’t want to go to the villa as he was instructed. She bluffed and said there was a miscommunication. He could call his boss if he wanted to double check. The driver had blanched and Sabrina had sighed in relief.

  Pennants on lampposts with the stylized A and N, the monogram of the princess and her groom, flapped in the wind. She had already inquired in three boutique hotels and as expected, there was no vacancy.

  She turned to a narrow, precariously inclined street and trudged on determinedly. She wasn’t choosy in her accommodations. Something was bound to turn up.

  Her pride demanded it.

  There was a narrow alley to the right at the top of the long uphill street. She glanced back down at the miles she had traversed and at the hotels that had the NO VACANCY signs on them. Staff were absent at the front desk and if they were present, they were glued to old television sets, viewing the ceremony. Sabrina wanted to park herself beside them and catch a glimpse of Luca among the guests, but she had to find a room first and foremost before evening fell.

  Chase would be arriving tomorrow, and he’d have a bigger chance of getting them a room. Hotel managers would be lining up to accommodate him. She had texted him that she wouldn’t be able to arrange a room for him at The Medeia. It was full. It would be better for his personal assistant to book a room somewhere else.

  She didn’t tell him that she was persona non grata and that she had no place to stay for the night. Chase would pry the story out of her, and she still felt raw about the whole thing.

  Maybe this alley had something to offer, seeing as how out of the way it was to pedestrian traffic. Just one last try before she admitted defeat and made her way downhill.

  She pulled on her abused carryall once more, the wheels scraping harshly on the stones. No one poked their heads out of the windows to investigate the racket she was making. The alley was deserted.

  Cigarette butts littered the gutter. Graffiti defaced some of the stone walls. She stifled a shriek as a rat as big as a kitten scurried right across her path. It had probably been disturbed by the wheels of her luggage. A gust of wind slapped a piece of paper on her cheek. It was one of those royal pennants.

  A low laugh alerted her that she had been wrong in her assumption about the alley being deserted. The shadow of an awning of one of the deserted restaurants had camouflaged his presence. He stepped into the light.

  Sabrina saw it was a young man. A teenager. His body was young, but his eyes were old. He spoke in a strange language, probably the local dialect, and another man came out of one of the abandoned establishments, this time older and meaner looking.

  The older man, scraggly and bearded, leered when he saw her. Sabrina felt naked in her flimsy tank top and shorts.

  She was halfway the length of the alley. If she ran for her life and screamed like the devil was after her, her pursuers would surely back off once she reached the more populated street.

  She couldn’t abandon her carryall though. Her passport was there. Plus the letter. The only claim she could show Markos Konstantinos. Not that she would be probably showing it to him anytime soon, she thought dispiritedly.

  She didn’t need anyone’s validation, she realized that now. If they didn’t want anything to do with her, then she didn’t want anything to do with them too. It was probably not the best time to have these realizations when thugs were bearing down on her.

  “Hi guys.” She smiled and waved her hand in a friendly gesture. Surely her acting deserved an Oscar nomination. Her heart was thudding so fast she was sure the individual beats were tripping on each other.

  The thugs appeared flabbergasted. They stopped in their tracks. They looked at each other in disbelief, as if saying “I can’t believe this foreigner’s so dumb that she doesn’t recognize when she’s about to be robbed/raped/beaten/killed in an alley. Aren’t we giving off the right vibe here?”

  That was when Sabrina made a run for it. She had the element of surprise on her side. Hopefully.

  The thugs blinked, then yelled and dashed after her. She could hear the pounding of their footsteps above the frightened boom boom of her heart. Her luggage bounced roughly along the uneven stones, hampering her escape, but she would not leave it.

  The strap of her flip-flop gave way and she kicked it off. They were only a few feet away from her when she rounded the corner of the steeply curved slope. Her momentum sent her careening down the steep curve. She screamed, spotting the lamppost at the bottom of the street that would break her fall. It might also break a few of her bones once she slammed into it. She veered to the middle, putting her directly in the path of the intersection at the end of the street. There were a few cars crossing it. Hopefully they’d be at a red light once she reached it.

  She lost her grip on her carryall. It banged at her heels, pitching her headlong. Her hands wind milled as she desperately tried to slow her descent. Ultimately, gravity prevailed. She screamed as she went tumbling down the sloping street, and she closed her eyes and prayed. That was the only thing she could do at that point.

  Chapter 15

  “Miss Konstantinos told me she wanted to do an ocular of the yacht for the fundraising party.”

  Luca took a deep breath. It would do no good to lose his temper with Antonia, not when she didn’t know the House of Argenti had not hired Eleni’s PR firm for the job.

  Deceitful, lying little bitch. It seemed it was his fate to be surrounded by them.

  “She looked around the yacht and then she asked to see Miss Connelly in the salon,” Antonia said in Italian hesitantly, somehow sensing that this fact would not go over well with him.

  It was never a good thing when your former lovers met behind your back.

  “Miss Konstantinos left a few minutes later after meeting with Miss Connelly.”

  “How was she?”

  Antonia frowned, puzzled.

  “Did Miss Connelly seem alright?” Fear fisted its cold hand around his heart. “Unhurt?”

  The stewardess’ frown grew deeper. “Miss Connelly was fine when she left the yacht…”

  He dragged a lungful of air and expelled it heavily. His relief was staggering. “What time did Miss Connelly leave?” He expunged the emotion from his voice.

  “She left an hour ago. The car arrived late. The driver said there was a long line for the limo service due to the wedding.”

  Luca nodded brusquely, dismissing Antonia. What did Eleni want with Sabrina? He strode to the salon as if the room would give him clues.

  He glanced around quickly. An image of Eleni brandishing a broken beer bottle in a bar flashed through his mind. There was no sign of broken glass, grazie a Dio. But that didn’t mean Eleni hadn’t done any damage.

  He removed his coat and sat on the couch. He should really get to the reception. Raphael had already texted asking where the hell he had gone off to. Their mother was looking for him, and Adriano had hitched a ride instead with Raphael to the reception.

  But he didn’t want to move. His feet felt as heavy as his heart.

  He had done the right thing in letting her go. How could he be with someone he couldn’t trust? Someone who was clouding his judgment? He hadn’t let her explain her actions, her desperate actions that had led her to pursue his friend to this side of the world. Did she love Markos? He hadn’t asked her the question, fearing the answer. Fearing that their time together was only a means to get to Markos and nothing more. Fearing that he himself had driven her to pretend.

  When he had read the copy of the letter Markos had sent to his suite upon his insistence, a black cloud of anger and jealousy had blinded him. Something had bothered him about it but Luca couldn’t bring himself to read it again, flinging his arm to the table for Olivia to get it and deliver it to the yacht.

  No. It wasn’t pretense, the way she trembled in his arms. It wasn’t playacting, the way she had come undone, sobbing with her release
. It wasn’t.

  Then what was it?

  His mobile pinged again. It was Raphael telling him to come to the luncheon or he would be escorting mama to five consecutive affairs in return for ditching lunch.

  He was rising dispiritedly from the couch when he spotted it. A torn check on the floor. He frowned. He picked it up and pieced it together.

  It was from Eleni. A check for several thousand euros paid to cash.

  He rushed out of the room, startling Antonia, then dashed to the uppermost stateroom and flung the door open.

  His eyes roamed over the paper bags and boxes. She hadn’t taken anything with her. But wait. The red ones were gone. So she had left with the jewelry.

  He sagged against the doorframe. Hope had given wings to his feet. Now disappointment felled him like a bullet to the chest. He was a fucking fool for thinking someone like her would give up a million euros worth of jewels because of a few days in his arms.

  Someone cleared her throat.

  He whirled around. It was Antonia standing by the threshold of the open door.

  “Miss Connelly said to give this to you personally.” She held out an eco bag that had seen better days.

  He recognized the bag and willed his heart not to race. Something tremulous and fragile began unfurling inside his chest. “Are there red boxes inside?”

  Antonia frowned, wondering why he didn’t take the bag himself and look inside. She wisely followed his orders. “There are several red boxes…”

  “Can you tell me if there’s anything in them?”

  Once more Antonia shot him a look that said he was acting strangely, but since he was paying her salary she’d keep her mouth shut.

  But she didn’t keep her mouth shut for long. She gasped. “Oh mio Dio!”

  She must have opened the necklace and earrings set first. It was the most impressive piece. Not that the brooch and bracelet were anything to laugh at, either. She gasped again as she began inspecting the other boxes.

  He kissed Antonia on the forehead, giddy with hope.

  “Tell the driver we’re leaving now.”

  The villa was a one-hour drive from the marina. It was Markos’ exclusive property and was situated over a bluff overlooking the Ionian sea. No gates blocked the perimeter. Only an outpost for security marked the entrance.

  “I’m Luca Argenti, a friend of Mr. Konstantinos. I’m here to see Miss Sabrina Connelly.”

  The guard frowned.

  He repeated his purpose in halting Liguerian. He had picked up quite a few words of the native dialect as a boy.

  The guard shook his head. “There is no one here, sir,” he answered back in the local dialect.

  “Are you sure? She should have arrived an hour ago.”

  Again the guard shook his head in the negative.

  He called Antonia, who said she had personally escorted Sabrina to the car that had picked her up. He tried calling Markos, but he wasn’t picking up his phone. He called Olivia, who was staying in The Medeia, to inquire for him. She promised she’d call back ASAP. Could she have left the principality? Her flight was scheduled for tomorrow. Where could she have gone?

  What was taking Olivia so long? He drummed his fingers on his thigh and glanced at his wristwatch. Five minutes had elapsed. He trusted his efficient assistant to do the job. He would just impede her inquiries by calling every minute like he wanted to. Olivia had barely blinked when he had flung Sabrina’s letter at her and had procured the gowns and jewelry he had specified early this morning. Seven minutes. His thoughts circled, then screeched to a stop. The letter…

  And now he remembered what had been bothering him about that letter. She had addressed Markos, her previous lover, by his last name. Before he could ponder about this niggling detail, Olivia called back.

  “To Coretta,” he barked to the driver. He wasn’t going to stop until he found her.

  * * *

  Luca had been scouring the mostly deserted streets for an hour. He wasn’t familiar with the area. Seirenada was not his home, but he knew the area like a local. And like a local, he avoided the areas that catered heavily to tourists.

  He went around questioning the local proprietors of the boutique hotels that had remained open for the wedding if an American, a Sabrina Connelly, had checked in. They eyed him suspiciously even if he was dressed in a suit. He didn’t give them any explanation and just left his mobile number for them to forward it to her.

  She had not given The Medeia her mobile number, Olivia had reported. Merda! Why had they never exchanged mobile numbers?

  Because you were afraid she’d pursue you, idiot. And now you’re the one running after her.

  The perceived unshakeability of his parents’ marriage was something Luca had taken for granted. When his father abandoned them, it seemed the ground which he had been standing on had crumbled to dust, leveling all the sign posts in his life, rendering him like a tourist without a map. Everything was strange, suspicious, including the people he encountered. His loss of faith made him filter everything and everyone with cynism. He was often a victim of conjectures and gossip and should have known better than to believe what he read in those tabloids. How many times had he smiled at a woman and the gutter press would have them involved in a torrid affair a day later?

  He had judged Sabrina without giving her a chance to defend herself.

  “Just answer the question.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d let me explain.”

  “It’s a simple question. Did you love him? Yes or no.”

  Her eyes had gone flat. “No.”

  He had convinced himself that he had never wanted to know more about her when it ate at him, all the things that didn’t seem to add up about her.

  And now that he did, it might be too late.

  The bloodcurdling scream jerked him out of his reverie. His body froze even as his heart jackhammered. He tried to pinpoint the location. It sounded like it came from the next street. He bolted to the direction where several passersby were congregating at a corner of an intersection. He followed their gazes and with horror saw Sabrina tumbling down a long, steeply curved street.

  He’d recognized her golden hair anywhere.

  He dashed into her path at the bottom of the street. He wanted to race up and break her fall midway but realized with her momentum, she might knock him off his feet and they’d both end up being hit by vehicles at the intersection.

  He dropped to his knees, extended his arms, bent them at the elbow, and braced for impact.

  She rolled right into his arms, slamming against his chest.

  “Oof!” he grunted, digging his knees into the cobblestones to stop them from toppling over.

  She twined her arms around his neck. He could feel her trembling. He gathered her closer. They remained that way for several minutes. Catching their breaths, slowing their heartbeats, easing the tremor in their muscles.

  “Are you alright?” He had spoken in Italian without realizing it, but it seemed she had understood the context anyway.

  She nodded weakly. Her head dropped back and she stared up at him, open-mouthed and disbelieving.

  He dropped his forehead to hers.

  “I told you,” she said in a thready voice, her shallow breaths fanning his face, “not to make me fall for you.”

  He lifted his head and stared into her accusing brown eyes. So he hadn’t been imagining things at all last night. He expelled a weak, relieved laugh at her show of spirit. She was going to be okay.

  This time, he spoke in English so she wouldn’t lose anything in translation. “Too late. I’ve already caught you.”

  He fisted her hair in his hand, caught her lips in a fierce kiss, and punished her because she had frightened him out of his mind. She opened her mouth, putting up no resistance, gentling him. He went on kissing her as a truth bomb detonated in his soul.

  He never, ever wanted to let her go.

  Chapter 16

  Several wolf whistles penetrated Sabrina�
��s passion-induced haze. She broke the kiss reluctantly, but Luca caught her lower lip between his own and worried it. She was sprawled on his hard thighs. He had a hand at her nape, the other on her back.

  “’Er giwing ‘wem a show.” She couldn’t talk properly while he was refusing to back down from their lip lock. His erection was nestled between her butt cheeks.

  He murmured in Italian, his tone irritated.

  She yanked his hair. That finally got his attention.

  Sort of. His eyes were a pool of liquid blue. Glazed blue. If she weren’t still horizontal on the pavement, she would have melted in one gooey mess on the street.

  “I want to get up, Luca.” She was beginning to feel various aches and pains all over. “Ouch.” His cufflink grazed her knee where there was an abrasion.

  “Forgive me,” he murmured.

  Sabrina felt the earth move. She clutched at his shoulders but it was only Luca lifting her into his arms. When her life was flashing before her eyes as she rolled down the street, her only regrets were about those things she hadn’t done. She wished she had called her mother more often, had initiated contact and had not let the gap between them grow. She wished she had come to Seirenada sooner, had swallowed her pride and asked Chase to loan her money for a plane ticket so she could have had met her father when he was still alive. She wished she had been completely honest with Luca from the start. Then maybe she wouldn’t have ended up at a bottom of a street having her ‘aha’ moment.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped.

  “Kidnapping you,” he retaliated dryly.

  Her head whipped around. “My bag!”

  “Relax, strega. Luciano already has it.”