by Annie West
‘Promised whom?’ His family? Had he really no one of his own? Despite the affection in which he was held locally, he was the most alone person she’d met. Totally, frighteningly self-possessed, except for the rare occasions he let down his guard with her.
The waves rolled in and ebbed back again and again. When he didn’t answer, her throat closed.
It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t confide in her. After all, she wasn’t his real wife. She was a temporary bed partner. Resolutely she blinked moisture from her eyes and planted her palms on the sand, ready to rise.
Long fingers encircled her wrist. ‘My father. I promised him before he died.’ Despite the clipped words, his voice was resonant with deep emotion.
‘I’m sorry, Dario. I take it he died before you approached my grandfather about the castello?’
Even in the gloom his scrutiny was so intense it was like a touch. ‘He didn’t tell you?’
‘I know nothing about your family except Gianfranco hated them because a Parisi jilted his sister.’
Slowly Dario nodded then turned to watch the waves. His free arm lifted and a pebble arced into the water.
‘It happened when I was seven.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated inadequately.
‘My father was determined to recoup his losses. Some of them, like the castello, had been in our family for generations. Generations of proud tradition, plus blood, sweat and hard work.’ Not by the slightest inflection did he give a hint of emotion. It was as if he recited a rehearsed piece. Yet his bunched muscles and the tendons straining at his neck told another truth. He lobbed another pebble into the water, the movement one of perfect grace and restrained savagery.
Alissa shivered as a chill wind brushed her skin.
‘He’d take me on his knee and tell me about family traditions built over centuries. About our history and our obligations to the land and our people.’ His lips curved but it wasn’t a smile. ‘He planned to regain it all. The lost family honour as well as the assets. To rebuild the Parisi name till it commanded the respect it once had.’
Dario’s voice held a note that filled her with foreboding. Another stone splashed in the shallows. ‘There was an opportunity to start again, a venture in northern Italy. If it worked he’d have enough to return to Sicily and start again.’
‘But it didn’t happen.’ Alissa’s heart was in her mouth, anticipating the tragedy she knew must come.
‘No.’ He drew in a breath so deep his chest expanded mightily. ‘There was a storm. The ferry was overcrowded. The authorities said later there should never have been so many people aboard.’
Alissa slipped her fingers from his loosened grip and covered his hand. It fisted, rock-hard in the sand.
‘There wasn’t enough room in the lifeboats. Papa wouldn’t let me stay with him. He said it was my duty to go. He made me promise...’
For the first time she detected a tremor in Dario’s deep voice. She leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder, hoping to bring some small comfort. Her heart plunged at the picture his words conjured: father and son ripped apart in the mayhem of a sinking vessel. She should never have asked about this.
‘He demanded you carry on his plans if he couldn’t?’ It made a horrible sort of sense. Dario had been a kid when he’d shouldered this burden. No wonder he was so driven, so implacable in his quest.
‘No, I offered that freely. As his son it was my duty to restore the family honour.’
When he spoke of honour she heard an echo of her grandfather and his obsession with righting past wrongs. But now she understood the difference between Dario and the old man. Dario’s pride wasn’t rooted in hate but in love. Love for his family and a deep-seated sense of duty.
‘He made me promise to look after the others.’ Dario’s voice was so low she barely heard him.
‘Others?’ His body stilled as if he stopped breathing. Fear clamped her chest.
‘My little brother, Rocco, and my mother. It was late in her pregnancy and she wasn’t feeling well.’
The words echoed into a silence so profound Alissa couldn’t even hear the sea. Only the sound of his words thudding like bullets into her flesh.
‘And they...did they...?’
‘The lifeboat was overcrowded,’ he said once more in a colourless voice that froze her blood. ‘It capsized in the rough seas. I held on to Rocco as long as I could. But I couldn’t save him.’
‘It wasn’t your fault.’ The words were automatic as she struggled to comprehend the enormity of his loss. How had he coped with such an appalling tragedy?
‘I should have been able to save one of them. Just one.’ His voice thickened and he drew another mighty breath. ‘Their bodies were never recovered.’
Alissa turned blindly and wrapped her arms tight round him as if she’d never let go. It didn’t matter that he was big and strong and stoic. She’d heard the pain in his voice. Her heart broke at the thought of that little boy losing everyone who loved him. Believing it was his fault.
How could his father have put that responsibility on him? It wasn’t fair. Then she remembered Dario saying he hadn’t wanted to leave his father. She’d guess even at seven Dario had seen himself as a man, willing to stay like his father and take his chances on the sinking ferry. Perhaps the promise to care for his mother and brother had been the only way to get him onto the lifeboat.
Her silent tears soaked the fabric of his shirt as she hugged him close. His body was rigid.
‘Where did you go...afterwards?’ Her words were choked.
‘An orphanage on the mainland. I lived there till I was old enough to strike out on my own.’
Alissa sucked in her breath, her mind reeling. Never had she suspected anything like this. She’d assumed Dario had grown up with privilege if not with the money he’d accused her grandfather of stealing. Dario had such an unconscious air of command she’d figured he’d honed it through years of haughty condescension.
Yet he’d grown up alone, without anyone of his own to love. How wrong she’d been.
‘And then?’ She had to know the rest.
‘I returned to Sicily. I began as a labourer but discovered I had a talent for business. After a few years I was working for myself, employing others. I brought Caterina over. She’d been house mother at the orphanage and promised to be my housekeeper when I set up my own home.’
Alissa felt a flash of relief as the grimness of his tone abated a fraction.
No wonder he’d kept the truth of their marriage from Caterina. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, the one person he cared for. He hadn’t wanted her to know he’d married in order to wrest back his family’s past glory.
And no wonder he hated the Manganos.
‘You blame my grandfather.’ Her tone was flat.
‘If he hadn’t swindled my family we’d never have been on that ferry,’ he growled with awful simplicity. ‘He didn’t just steal the castello and the money, he stole my family, the life we should have had together. Of course I blame him.’
Now so much made sense. Dario’s accusation that she didn’t deserve the advantages she’d had at his family’s expense. He’d thought her a privileged bimbo like Bianca Cipriani. That she’d had family, wealth and security when he’d had none. Gianfranco had stolen his future, his very family.
Even as she dragged his stiff form close and rose on her knees to cradle his head against her breast, Alissa knew the comfort she offered could only be transient. He might find ease, release, even pleasure, with her. But in his mind her grandfather’s sins would always taint her.
These past weeks, despite the warmth and pleasure they’d found together, there’d still been unspoken barriers between them. Now she knew why. Dario would never look at her without remembering.
The hopes she’d secretly cherished splintered like fragile spun glass. There could never be a future for her with Dario.
He pulled her to him and something melted inside.
It was the worst poss
ible time to realise she loved him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
‘SHE CAN’T COME to the phone, Donna. She’s still asleep.’ A smile tugged Dario’s mouth as he thought of Alissa, sated and exhausted after a long night of loving.
Last night he’d bared his soul to her. He didn’t understand what had prompted him. But for the first time ever he’d known an overwhelming urge to share himself.
It had felt right.
She’d stripped him to the bone, scoured away everything till he’d been exposed and naked, more vulnerable than he’d felt since he was seven and they’d told him he’d lost everyone.
Now he felt renewed, reborn, with a strength and wholeness that made his blood sizzle. Alissa had done that for him.
They’d made love on the beach with a desperate ardour that barely slaked his need. He’d been insatiable, for her touch, her body, and more, that sense of completeness only she gave him.
Back home they’d barely made it to the bedroom before they’d turned to each other. The wild yearning hadn’t been his alone. Alissa had matched his passion with a desperation that stole his breath.
Finally their frantic need had been assuaged and he’d lain with her in his arms, marvelling at the incredible sense of contentment filling his parched soul.
Alissa was...special. She was...
‘Pardon?’ His musing ceased abruptly as he took in his sister-in-law’s words. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said Alissa can come to us when she moves back to Australia. Now we’re financially secure, thanks to you, she can holiday here before returning to Melbourne.’
Dario’s brows furrowed. He spoke slowly, as if one wrong syllable might shatter something vital. ‘What makes you think she’s returning to Australia?’
‘It’s all right, Dario. You don’t need to pretend. Alissa explained the arrangement: six months then you go your separate ways. It won’t be long till the time’s up. I know she’s looking forward to picking up her old life...’
Donna’s words faded to a background buzz as his mind whirred into top gear. Alissa had told her sister that? Had talked about relocating as soon as possible?
Searing pain banded his torso, a fiery loop tightening till finally he remembered to breathe. His heart hammered against his ribs, pounding out a desperate protest.
From the jumble of his emotions he identified the one that hollowed his bones.
Fear.
He was terrified by the idea of Alissa leaving. Of losing her.
Dario put out an arm and caught the corner of his desk. Winded, disbelieving, he stared at the contracts stacked for his signature. He felt a powerful urge to swipe them off the table and into oblivion.
How insignificant they seemed in the face of this brutal revelation. Suddenly the world shifted into focus, revealing a truth he’d never suspected.
The momentary weakness passed and he straightened, sure of himself again. He was used to snap decisions and trusting his instinct. He was used to taking charge.
He had no doubts about his course of action.
‘Things have changed, Donna. Alissa won’t be going to Australia except on visits. We’re staying married. Permanently.’
* * *
Anguish scooped out the place where her heart had been. In his mind she’d always bear the stain of her grandfather’s role in his family’s ruin.
She had to save herself while she had the strength.
Quietly she stepped inside and snicked the door shut, determined to face him before her resolve wavered.
Alissa marvelled at his arrogance as he spun Donna more lies. Anger sparked and she welcomed it. Anything was preferable to the helpless yearning that had tormented her since she’d woken in his empty bed.
She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. He ended the call and turned to stare out the windows, his gaze fixed on the castello. Why wasn’t she surprised? It was all he really cared for. Old stones and dreams of past glory. Not the love of a real flesh-and-blood woman. He yearned for the past, for what he’d lost. And who could blame him?
The knowledge pumped her blood faster. Her mouth twisted. She was jealous of a pile of rocks and mortar! The disturbing realisation lent her the strength she needed.
‘What do you think you’re doing, lying to my sister?’
He spun round and Alissa had the momentary satisfaction of seeing shock stark on his handsome face. Then the shutters came down. He looked as warm and approachable as a marble statue.
His aloofness stiffened her resolve. She could cope with that. It was the hidden Dario, real, vulnerable and hurting, who shattered her barriers with his tenderness and passion.
‘Come in, Alissa, and sit down. We need to talk.’
‘We sure do,’ she muttered as she paced across the room. ‘You’ve got a nerve, feeding her that story.’ Yet even as she lashed her anger her weaker self longed for him to pull her close and say it was true: he wanted them to remain man and wife because he loved her.
She wanted it so badly she trembled.
‘Here.’ He gestured abruptly to the long lounge.
The place where they’d first been intimate. Piercing bitter-sweet memories surfaced.
‘No, thank you.’ She halted before his desk, keeping a safe distance between them.
Eyes the colour of winter rain meshed with hers. The dangerous undertow of desire tugged at her. She looked away. ‘Tell me,’ she demanded.
‘Your sister’s call pre-empted a discussion I’d planned to have with you.’ He sounded relaxed, as if he were discussing anything but their future. ‘I’ve been considering our marriage...’
‘And?’ Her heart hammered in her throat.
‘All things considered, it seems logical to make our arrangement permanent.’
All things considered... Suddenly Alissa wished she’d taken his offer of a seat. Her legs were rubbery, her knees quaked. She braced her palms on his desk and breathed deep. ‘All what things?’
He took a stride towards her then halted, jamming his hands deep in his pockets.
‘We got off to a rocky start.’ He ignored her stare of disbelief. ‘But we’ve settled into a good relationship. You like the life here. Sicily suits you.’ His gaze snared hers again and she read approval in their glittering depths. Heat corkscrewed in her stomach.
‘You’ve fitted in perfectly, coping with society events and local gatherings like the one yesterday. Fitting in with me. With my lifestyle. We’re good together.’ She waited, breathless for him to say the one thing that mattered, the one thing she needed to hear.
He remained silent and something cracked inside her.
Alissa licked her lips and discovered the rusty taste of blood where she’d bitten down too hard. Had she really expected him to make a declaration of love?
She’d known from the first Dario wasn’t for her. Stupidly she’d let her emotions blind her to that. The surging pain that cramped her stomach and tore at her throat was testimony to the danger of false hope.
Her feelings for him were so different now she knew the real Dario. But, though he knew her too, he still viewed her as nothing more than a convenience. Pain scored her heart. Had he any idea how he hurt her?
‘I fit your lifestyle.’ Her voice was a rasp of anguish. ‘You mean we’re good in bed.’
Those broad shoulders lifted in a fluid shrug and his smile tugged at her belly as he leaned close over the desk. ‘That goes without saying, tesoro. The passion between us is out of this world.’
His satisfied smirk reminded her that while she’d made love he’d had sex. Last night heaven and earth had moved and her soul had soared as she gave herself to the man she loved. But he’d simply craved oblivion after the wrenching memory of past grief. For him it had been a physical and mental catharsis, no more. She’d known it then and she knew it now. That didn’t make it easier to stomach.
She’d given herself willingly. Her heart had ached for the vulnerable boy he’d been and the driven man he’d become
. But now the pain was for her foolish dreams, the impossible yearning for a man who could never return her feelings. Staying with him to be used in that way would destroy her. She might even begin to hate him.
‘Was there anything else?’
His eyes widened at her abrupt tone. ‘Of course.’
His brows arrowed down as if he was puzzled by her lack of excitement. Dully she supposed women were usually more enthusiastic about Dario’s propositions. Her knees wobbled as she remembered how enthusiastic she’d been just hours ago. The ache of unshed tears filled her mouth.
‘I can give you everything, Alissa. Jewels, money, luxury holidays. You’ll never have to work again. You’ll never have to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you.’
‘Like a kept woman?’ He still thought she cared about those material things? How little he understood her. It wasn’t his wealth she craved. It was him: obstinate, gorgeous, passionate and challenging.
‘No! Like my wife.’ His tone made it clear this was the highest possible honour. ‘You want children. I’ve seen the way you are with the little ones. You’ll make a marvellous mother.’ His voice dropped an octave and a thrill of delight ripped through her. ‘I want to start a family, Alissa. Soon.’ His eyes darkened in promise. ‘If you agree we could start trying straight away. Today.’
Alissa trembled at the temptation of his words. He had an unerring ability to find her weak spots. An image filled her mind of Dario on the beach with a little dark-haired tot. Their child.
She sucked in a breath of dismay at how badly she craved the future he painted. Almost enough to forget he’d never love her. Or that he wasn’t interested in their children, his and hers. She saw it with a sickening clarity that wrenched her heart. He wanted babies to replace the family he’d lost. This was part of his plan to restore the Parisi clan.
‘Any woman could give you a baby, Dario. It doesn’t have to be me.’ Yet she wanted it to be her. Wanted it desperately.
‘It’s you I’m asking, Alissa. Doesn’t that mean anything?’ He strode round the desk so there was no barrier between them. This close she felt the inevitable desire to nestle in his arms and give him whatever he wanted.