The Sicilian's Surprise Wife

by Tara Pammi

  Tears flowing over her cheeks, his mother launched into a rapid dialogue just as Clio arrived from the lounge.

  His father, a traditional and usually reticent man, moved toward Clio and grasped her hand in his. Studied her with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “You’re as beautiful as you are generous, bella.”

  The familiarity his father showed Clio stunned Stefan, rendering him mute.

  Her face suffused with warmth, Clio was shaking her head. Her hands trembled, her gaze resolutely turned away from Stefan. “It’s nothing, Mr. Bianco. I was just doing my duty.”

  Duty?

  “Thank you for inviting us to your home, Clio,” his mother said in heavily accented English from the circle of his arms.

  “You have to excuse us, it’s not a proper home,” replied Clio, looking anywhere but at him.

  “But home is where your heart is, sì?” his mother said, fresh tears filling her eyes again.

  His head swapped between Clio and his parents as if he was at a tennis match, shock literally robbing him of coherent speech.

  A decade ago, he had tried to convince his parents of the same thing—that he had fallen in love with Serena and that he wanted to stay back in New York.

  They had been so against it that they had threatened to cut him off and he, so naive, so desperate to be in love, had told them he was fine with that.

  But Serena had wanted nothing to do with him without his parents’ fortune.

  “We would have loved to come for the wedding but it was not to be,” his mother piped up again, glossing over the fact that he had not invited them.

  Except for phone calls, he hadn’t been able to even meet his father in the eye.

  “He’s fortunate, to have such a loving wife.” This was said to his father.

  “Please, come in,” Clio finally said, her voice hoarse. “Did you have a safe flight?”

  “Yes,” his mother replied. “Aboard Stefano’s luxury jet means we don’t need anything.”

  Shock shuddering through him, he grasped Clio’s wrist and tugged her toward him.

  “I have to call the butler and have some food arranged for them,” she said, tugging her hand back.

  “How long will you run, bella?” he whispered before his mother commanded his attention again.

  He felt the shiver that racked through her slender frame.

  The little minx had arranged everything, even commanded his pilot without his knowledge.

  All Stefan wanted to do right then was to excuse himself from his parents, drag his wife inside and demand an explanation. Or maybe ravish her first and demand explanations later.

  Because his desire for his alluring wife seemed to be the only constant thing in his life these days.

  * * *

  After a dinner of expertly prepared pasta con le sarde and impanata di pesce spada, swordfish pie, his favorite, which Clio had requested the butler learn and cook for dinner, and lots of colorful conversation—which had been mainly his mother’s curious questions about how they had fallen in love, the wedding and when they were planning bambini, and Clio’s deftly spun tales for answers—the silence in the cavernous lounge jarred on Stefan’s nerves.

  Every time he had visited New York over the past decade, he had stayed in the same suite at the Chatsfield. Now it was as if a volcano had erupted all over his life and there was no way he could contain the damage being done, couldn’t turn it back into the safe, sterile place it had been just a month ago.

  His father’s hand on his shoulder prodded him out of his thoughts. “You’re angry with your wife for inviting us.”

  Stefan shook his head in automatic denial before he caught a flicker of understanding in his father’s eyes. His father had never lied to him, had never done anything but love Stefan.

  “You know we would have welcomed you back all these years.” Not even a hint of hesitation could be heard in his father’s voice. “Why have you not returned to Palermo even once? Why have you stayed at a distance, Stefano?”

  The unhidden ache in the question came at Stefan like a sharp punch, ripping through the shell he had built around himself.

  Had he known, somewhere, that his father, of all the people in the world, could sense how changed he was from the inside? Had he been afraid that his father could see that there was nothing good left in his son after what Serena had done?

  “Was it to punish us for threatening to cut you off all those years ago? Have you become such a cruel man, then?”

  “No,” the denial waved out of him. His father would accept nothing but truth. For the first time in years, Stefan looked inward.

  “What kind of a man keeps away from a mother who dreams of holding her son in her arms again?”

  To hear that painful resignation in his father’s voice was Stefan’s undoing. Words rushed out of him on a wave of guilt and shame and so much more that he had locked up for so many years. “Serena...she took my very belief in myself when she left me. In just one day, I became a stranger to myself. I didn’t know myself and I could not face you as a failure. I...was not worthy of you and Mamma after choosing such a woman over you. How could I face you after I had so selfishly shattered all your dreams?”

  Understanding dawned in his father’s gaze. “And all these years? After you built your empire, after you proved to yourself that you could succeed?”

  Stefan shook his head, a lump in his throat. He had no answer for his father.

  “Has she taken everything that was good and kind about you, too?”

  She hadn’t. He’d given it all up willingly. He hadn’t wanted anything that could have made him vulnerable like that again. Along with his naïveté, he had also given up his heart.

  After everything he had done to wipe her from his life, he had still let her win.

  The realization clawed in his gut. He had held on to her rejection, had held on to the poison she had spewed into his life for so long.

  Had let her corrupt everything that had been good and pure in his life even though he had been determined to prove her wrong.

  He had denied himself and his parents the joy of seeing each other.

  Clutching his father’s hands, Stefan spoke. “I have let my shame and guilt stop me from visiting you these years...I wanted to prove myself worthy of you again and in the process, I forgot what you taught me...I forgot everything that is important in life.”

  Nodding, his father patted his back. “Your mother, she does not see things. But I would have been immensely sad to see my son become like this...if it were not for your Clio, Stefano. To see you with a woman like that, it makes my heart easy.”

  What would his father say if he knew it was nothing but a farce? What was stopping him from making the woman he wanted with an insane hunger his own? The thought erupted on the heels of the first one.

  The elevator swished open and his parents left, beaming smiles on their faces.

  Instantly, Clio excused herself and Stefan let her run away for now.

  The way he felt right now, it was better she stayed away until he was more in control of himself and his emotions.

  All day, his parents had commented on how well Clio and he suited each other, had been ecstatic at every small exchange between them.

  Hadn’t been able to keep their eyes off Clio as they went sightseeing into the city. Had demanded Clio and Stefan show them the Columbia University campus, all the spots that the media had dug up and built their love story around.

  His mother had pronounced proudly that Stefan and Clio’s marriage would last longer than her own marriage of forty years, that they would continue the tradition of a long, happily married life as the Biancos always did.

  His mother’s comment opened up a wound he had resolutely patched up long ago, an ache that could consume him if h
e let it.

  Because he could never trust another woman, never reach for that happiness ever again.

  And try as he did to ruthlessly remove that small part of him that wanted a fantasy to come true, Clio kept igniting it, kept pushing him toward the path where nothing but pain awaited him.

  Even the happiness he had spied in his parents’ eyes demanded a high price of him.

  Clio had unnecessarily brought his parents into their pretense, cruelly shown him glimpses of a future that could never be his.

  And that she made him want it again was unbearable.

  * * *

  Closing the door behind her, Clio entered her bedroom.

  Anticipated fear churned through her gut. Her fingers slipping on the keys of her laptop, she typed in her password and looked up her bank account.

  Sweat running down her back, she pulled a sheaf of papers she had left on her nightstand.

  Jackson’s financials...

  Her gut folded in on itself as she finally pinpointed the discrepancy she had been trying to find, and the tremendous truth of her financial affairs rammed home.

  Jackson had robbed her of every last penny, literally...

  This was proof enough for the Securities and Exchange Commission to investigate Jackson. Proof enough to pull everything on him...

  Her legs gave out under her and she sagged to the cushioned chair in front of the vanity, her breaths rushing on top of each other. Why it had finally come to her today, at this moment after weeks of trying, she had no idea.

  Today when she had seen a real smile curve Stefan’s mouth, today when she had seen the flash of pure joy in his eyes...

  Today when it seemed like she had made a difference in his life.

  This was all Stefan needed from her, why he had agreed to her deal, why he had married her... And once he had it...

  Clutching the chocolate-and-gold veneer of the table, she leaned her forehead to it, trying to lock the tears in her throat.

  The whole day had been the upward ride of a roller coaster—going higher and higher on the tale she had spun about Stefan and her, the pressure building. Until this moment when she was crashing down.

  Rosa Bianco looking fondly at Stefan and her, and weaving dreams for their future life, had been the same as looking at a reality that was even better than the one she had wanted for so long, one that she was living every day, but was still out of her grasp.

  Pretending to be the woman Stefan adored was like a drug she never wanted to quit, that could distort her reality and delude her. Still, she didn’t want to give him the proof yet.

  “You shouldn’t have interfered, Clio.”

  Stefan’s voice behind her simmered with anger and emotion.

  But she had done what she had intended. She had finally gotten past that shell of his.

  She had to face the music now, but for his sake, she would do the same again.

  “Turn around and face me. There’s nowhere to run tonight.”

  Warning vibrated in his tone, along with arrogance. And instead of scaring her, it goaded Clio. Someone had to show Stefan what he had become, had to remind him what he used to be.

  Still seated, she turned around to face him.

  “I didn’t interfere, Stefan. Nor do I have any intention of running away.”

  “No? Because I have a feeling you’re taking our vows literally, bella. Everything that you have been doing these past two weeks, everything you think I need, you can stop it. You have no duty toward me, Clio.”

  He spat the word as if it was a curse, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of her doing anything in the name of it. Her muscles quivering, Clio frowned.

  It was as if there were two parts of her within—one wanted to back down, apologize before the tension in the room exploded, one wanted to challenge him about her place in his life, wanted to hurt him as he did her.

  For what else was the tightness in her chest?

  Uncoiling from the chair, she straightened her spine. “Maybe I have no duty toward you as a wife, Stefan. God knows nothing but that bloody contract defines that between us. But what about as a friend who wants to do something for you, who wants to see you smile again?”

  He prowled into the room and into her space. Long fingers wrapped around her nape possessively. “I have three friends—ones who don’t interfere in my personal life. I don’t need another friend.”

  “So everything you have done for me then, what—?”

  “That’s a different matter.”

  Clio half snorted, half laughed, her temper getting the better of her again. “Can you hear yourself? You gave me the right to interfere in your life when you interfered in mine. Goose and gander, Stefan.”

  “You’ve lost me again. But do not repeat this, Clio. Or I have to forget my own rules, too, and they are already very muddy right now.”

  “They were over the moon to see you, Stefan. And I know that it meant something to you, too.”

  Scorn filled his gaze. “Then why didn’t you invite yours, bella?”

  Burying the hurt that instantly swarmed to the surface, Clio shrugged. “I did invite them. I thought a farce it might be, but this is the only wedding I’ll have. My mother said, I hope you fare better with him than you did with the American. They have no interest in my life, Stefan. Not after I walked away from the one they decided on for me.

  “But having seen your parents today, I don’t regret what I did. They adore you, Stefan. To not invite them to the wedding...”

  His mouth tightened.

  “To reject something so good and pure, this is not you.”

  “I doubted your reasons for wanting to marry me. I made you sign a filthy contract. Have you still not learnt who I am now, Clio?

  “The naive, romantic Stefan you remember is long dead. In its place, there’s only poison, Clio, poison that will destroy you. I’m warning you, bella...leave me alone.”

  His jaw concrete, he growled a sound of such utter pain that her gut twisted.

  “Do you realize what you’ve done by involving my parents in this? They think the sun rises with you now. What happens when this is all over? How will I face them with another failure in hand? How will I explain your absence in my life, bella?”

  That he still thought in such rigid terms should have brought Clio down with a thud. That he didn’t even indulge the thought of some kind of future together, when it was a path she kept getting pulled into, should have stopped her.

  “I don’t know how you will. We came together to ruin Jackson. Can your parents’ happiness not be the one good thing that comes out of this, Stefan? Does our marriage have to leave only destruction in its wake?”

  Because that’s how it felt right now.

  Stefan had already helped her gain her self-respect, her strength, back but he was also going to steal a part of her. The damage, it seemed, was already done.

  How could she stay away from him when he was so gorgeous and kind and honorable? When her heart gave a little leap when she saw him every morning? When her throat ached at the way he shut his emotions off as if he couldn’t bear them?

  She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his unforgiving form, hid her face in his shoulder. She felt as if she was standing on the precipice of a cliff, wanted to give in and jump so much that she was feverish from it.

  He tensed instantly, his grip on her arms bruising, poised to push her away.

  Slowly, Clio settled into his embrace, the hard contours and sharp angles of his body pressing and pushing her own soft curves, until they fit perfectly. Heat and hardness—his maleness made her feel so secure, and wanted.

  His arms came around her finally, and her breath left her in a long whoosh. His hands moved and roamed over her back, as though he was testing their fit, too, an
d then came to rest around her waist. Left scorching heat on her bare flesh between her top and jeans.

  Warm air from his exhale coated her skin. “Thank you for bringing them here. For bringing such wonderful smiles to their faces.”

  Warmth exploded in her chest and she struggled to contain it. Nodding, Clio wrapped herself even tighter around him. “You have to let me in, Stefan. Just a tiny little bit.”

  “Tiny little bit, bella? You’re like a stubborn virus.” His smile against her temple took the bite out of his words.

  She had no name for what was happening. Only that, after years of unhappiness and misery, she had smiled so much these past few weeks, she was happy with herself.

  She felt a sense of power over her own life, over her emotions she hadn’t felt in so long. She would tell him about the proof, but for these few minutes, she wanted it to be only about them.

  “We have no expectations of each other, which means we won’t hurt each other either.” His heart thudded under her hands. Out of the mess she had made of her life, it seemed there was still one good thing. “We are safe from each other.”

  He smiled, baring his teeth like a predator. “Are we, bella? Because every minute of every day, I feel like I’m on the edge. You smile at me, you tease me, you rile me, you challenge everything I think of you, of myself, of the world. And now, my dear wife, you’re meddling in my life. Safe is the last thing I am with you around.”

  Bending that arrogant head, he breathed the words into her temple, her scalp prickling at the way his finger tugged her hair.

  “And what I do want, so desperately crave from you,” his free hand moved up her midriff and rested in the valley between her breasts with his hot mouth buried in her neck, “you won’t grant me, bella.” Speech slurring, he licked the fluttering pulse. “It feels like I’ve waited my entire life to make love to you, Clio.”

  Her spine melted, liquid fire licking along her nerves. She was sinking in desire and she clutched him with her arms, his body a welcoming cocoon.

  “You’re seducing me with words, Bianco,” she managed huskily with the few brain cells that were still functioning.

  “Me seduce you, bella?” His solid frame shook with laughter, sending ripples through her. He dug his teeth into the skin at her shoulder and bit.