A tear slid down her cheek.
Time to go.
She got out and shut the door behind her, and she didn’t look behind her as she walked up the front steps.
Not once.
Chapter 13
Nero stood near the windows in Lorenzo’s office, watching as Lorenzo paced back and forth in front of his desk.
“So the information you found on Ivan’s computer is what we want? Is that what you’re saying?” Lorenzo asked, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his suit pants to keep them still.
“Yes,” his brother replied. “There were all sorts of hidden files with transaction reports, financial statements, the works. Which is why I say we take this to the police immediately rather than the board. Before the old man starts to suspect we have it.”
“No,” Lorenzo said reflexively. “Not yet.”
Nero’s scowled. “I thought we were in agreement on this?”
Lorenzo thought they were too, and he couldn’t understand why he was procrastinating.
It was only that since Kira had gotten out of the limo two days ago, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else but her. He should have dismissed her, put her out of his head and focused instead on the information she’d gotten him, the information that would bring his father down. Yet that wasn’t what he was thinking about.
All that was in his head were her blue eyes and desperation in them, as she’d told him that she’d never recover from him. That she had to protect herself. That she was so tired of trying, so tired of failing.
She was scared, he knew it. He’d seen the fear underneath her desperation, and he understood. She’d been hurt very badly by the accident and its aftermath, not to mention the hurt already received from her parents, and he could see why she wanted to protect herself.
It made his chest feel like it was clamped in a vise.
He’d been battling himself that day in the limo, battling the need to grab her and not let her get out, keep her with him no matter what she said. But he’d managed to force that primitive part of him back into the chains he’d bound it in after Katie had died.
He wasn’t that selfish anymore, and the right thing to do, the unselfish thing, had been to let her go. So he had.
She wanted to leave him in order to protect herself from potential hurt, and he had to let her.
Because God knew he couldn’t give her any guarantees. He couldn’t protect her from the pressure of his own demands. Pressure it wasn’t fair to put her under.
The decision should have made him feel better. Should certainly not still be lingering in his mind days after he’d made it. There shouldn’t be this hollow feeling in his chest, as if he was missing something vital to his wellbeing, a piece of himself. And he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of Kira’s face as she’d explained herself. Pale and drawn somehow, her deep blue eyes sparkling with what he’d thought were tears.
Letting her go had been the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
“Lorenzo, for fuck’s sake!”
Nero’s irritated voice penetrated and Lorenzo came to a sudden halt, realizing that this wasn’t the first time his brother had said his name.
“What?” he snapped.
His brother glowered at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He didn’t know. He couldn’t seem to focus. This was important. This was what he’d been pursuing for years, revenge for his mother’s sake. For Katie. Yet . . .
Why was Kira’s face the only thing he could see? Why did the fact that she’d gotten out of his limo with a tear running down her cheek matter so fucking much?
She wanted to end it, so he’d let her go. And he’d had to, hadn’t he?
“Jesus Christ, Lorenzo!”
He blinked. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re distracted. What the fuck’s got into you?” Abruptly, Nero’s dark eyes narrowed. “Where’s your intern?”
The question sent a hot shock the whole way down his spine, the hollow feeling in his stomach becoming acute. His hands clenched instinctively. “She’s gone. I had to let her go.”
Nero stared at him, and Lorenzo had the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that the other man was reading every single one of his thoughts. “Why? She seemed onto it.”
“She had a better job offer,” he lied.
“You sleeping with her?”
Lorenzo stiffened. “What? No.”
“Bullshit.” The word dripped with disbelief. “I saw you two together, don’t forget. The tension was off the fucking charts.”
A muscle ticked in Lorenzo’s jaw. Talking about his feelings to anyone let alone a half-brother he barely knew, wasn’t done, and he wasn’t about to start now. “That’s none of your business,” he said coldly.
“It is if it impacts on the what we’re going to do about Dad.” Nero’s look was very direct. “She walk out on you?”
“Yes.” The word just slipped out, he hadn’t meant to say it. And once it was out, he couldn’t take it back. Gritting his teeth, Lorenzo went on, “I’ll deal with it later.”
Nero snorted. “You want my advice?”
“No.”
“I let a woman walk out on me and it ended up being the best thing I ever did,” Nero went on, ignoring him completely. “Because it made me realize what I could live with and what I couldn’t live without.”
“I can live without her,” Lorenzo growled.
“Really? Because I couldn’t live without Phoebe.” Nero’s expression was unflinching. “You want to know what got me out of that house in the end? It was going after her. I thought letting her go was the right thing to do, but it wasn’t.”
The tightness in Lorenzo’s chest got worse. “Keeping her is selfish. She’s been hurt too many times already.”
Strangely, there was only understanding in Nero’s dark gaze. “You think you’re doing the noble thing, huh? Letting her go to protect her, right?”
He shouldn’t say anything. He shouldn’t continue this conversation. “Yes.”
“Yeah, that’s fucking bullshit too. Don’t kid yourself it’s about protecting her. It’s about protecting yourself.” Nero expression twisted. “Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. My advice to you is find your balls, brother. Because if you truly love her, it’s about doing the right thing for her. Not for yourself.”
If you love her . . .
“I never said anything about love,” he said stiffly, trying to ignore that aching, hollow feeling that was getting deeper, wider.
Nero only gave another disbelieving snort.
Lorenzo couldn’t blame him. It sounded weak, even to himself.
Love. Did he love Kira? Was that what this feeling was? With Katie, he’d fallen so hard and fast, throwing himself into it like he hadn’t been hurt before. Because he hadn’t been. But now things were different. He knew what it was like to love someone, and he knew what it was like to lose them.
Nero’s right. This is about you. It’s about fear. Your fear.
Lorenzo blinked, staring past his brother’s tall form silhouetted against the windows, out into the blazing, bright afternoon.
Was he afraid? Was it truly fear that had made him let Kira go? Was that him protecting himself, just as she was protecting herself? Was that what they both were doing? Protecting themselves from pain?
The knowledge washed over him like icy water on a hot day, shocking him. Because of course it was true, that’s exactly what he was doing. She’d wanted guarantees because she’d been hurt and he’d told her he couldn’t give them to her. He hadn’t given her the one thing she’d wanted, telling himself it was all about protecting her.
Remind you of anyone?
Shit. His father. Cold and emotionally unavailable, denying not only Lorenzo but his wife, too, the thing that both of them had wanted most of all. Love. Except Lorenzo didn’t know why his father had behaved the way he did, but he knew why he’d denied Kira.
It wasn’t about
protecting her. It was about protecting himself.
Which means you know what the truly unselfish thing to do now is, don’t you?
He stared at his brother. “You went after her?”
If the question surprised Nero, he didn’t show it. “Yes. Scariest fucking thing I’ve ever done. But I did.”
“Was it worth it?”
Nero didn’t smile, but his hard features softened. “She changed my fucking life. She saved me. So yeah, it was worth it.”
Lorenzo stared at his brother, the hollow emptiness yawning wide with a hunger he’d always tried to leash that perhaps he couldn’t leash anymore. But this time it had a focus. This time it knew exactly what it wanted.
He couldn’t be his father. He couldn’t deny Kira what she wanted most of all.
“I have to go,” he said, his voice sounding weird.
Nero scowled. “What about Dad? We need to take this information to the police.”
“Do whatever you have to do.” He turned, a deep certainty settling down over him, a knowledge he couldn’t deny anymore. “I have somewhere to else to be.”
“Lorenzo,” Nero began.
But Lorenzo was already striding toward the doors of his office.
His father didn’t matter, neither did his revenge. His mother was dead, and so was Katie. And he could think of only one thing in the whole of his miserable goddamn life that mattered.
Kira.
He’d give her any guarantee she wanted. He’d give her forever. He’d give her his heart.
Because he loved her.
* * *
Kira blinked down at the piece of black silk she held in her hand. Dammit. There was another water stain on the delicate fabric, courtesy of the tears that came without warning, running down her cheeks and onto the material she was trying to stitch.
Maybe she shouldn’t have tried to do any sewing, especially not of the little pair of lacy shorts she’d last gotten out to show Lorenzo. Yeah, she didn’t need that reminder.
She’d just needed to do something with her hands, to focus on something else other than the pain that was sitting right where her heart should be, and sewing had always been her go-to thing.
But now, whenever she looked at the fabric, all she could see was Lorenzo’s silver eyes and the smile that had turned his mouth when she’d pulled them out of her sewing box. He’d been impressed and when she’d told him she was making them for herself, he’d immediately demanded she put them on ‘just to see how they fit’.
She’d refused, because she’d wanted him to see them when they were done. They were supposed to have been a surprise . . .
Another water stain bloomed on the fabric.
Shit.
Swallowing, Kira put down the shorts and wiped away the stupid tears.
There was no point in continuing with this, not now. Perhaps she should go and do something else.
She leaned back against the arm of the outdoor couch, the early-evening sun slanting over the terrace where she sat.
Hard to believe that the garden party had been here only a week earlier and that over there, near the parapet that bounded the terrace, was where she’d stood with Lorenzo. Just before she’d gone up to get the information he’d needed from her father’s office.
Just before he’d told her he wanted to keep seeing her.
Just before she’d refused him.
Her throat and her chest ached, and she knew no amount of swallowing or downing painkillers was going to make either of them feel better.
She’d thought that refusing him would save her more pain in the long run, but she wasn’t sure that was the case now.
Because it hurt. It just hurt.
She’d tried to focus on something else the whole week since then, half of her anticipating some kind of fight with her father about her unexpected presence in his office the day of the garden party. But Ivan didn’t mention it and when she asked him whether he was still mad about it, he’d told her not to worry about it. Which was odd. But she didn’t want to think about that too much because it reminded her of Lorenzo, so she’d concentrated on getting together a business plan for the kids’ classes and visiting local community centers searching for a location instead. The money Lorenzo had promised her arrived in her bank account without fuss and a small part of her had been disappointed that it had, because it meant she couldn’t go and ask him what was happening with it. Okay, not a small part. A large part.
She missed him. But that would get better, of course it would. Time would pass and she’d heal, and she’d realize she’d made the right decision after all.
Kira closed her eyes and let her head tip back against the arm of the couch. She was so tired, and the last few rays of the sun were warm on her face. The whole week she’d been sleeping really bad, her dreams full of silver eyes and hot, demanding hands on her body. Strong arms holding her close. Waking up every morning in an empty bed, without him, had been a lesson in torture.
Perhaps if she’d be lucky and if she had a nap now, she wouldn’t dream of him. Just once it would be nice if she didn’t.
But her mind apparently didn’t get the memo and she drifted into one of the nightmares that had been plaguing her recently, of being trapped behind a wall of thorns and knowing Lorenzo was on the other side and he was calling her. But for some reason she couldn’t speak and she couldn’t move, almost as if she was trapped and lying in the wreckage of a car, listening to help move further and further away.
Then the dream changed and the wall of thorns parted to reveal a man holding a sword. A man with silver eyes, cutting away the thorns that surrounded her. Freeing her. Then he strode to where she lay and knelt beside her, leaning over her.
Placing his mouth on hers.
A kiss to wake her from sleep.
A low moan broke from her. His mouth was so warm and familiar, and it felt so real. But, of course, it wouldn’t be. She always woke up alone.
“Kira.”
Her name whispered in a deep, dark voice, full of tenderness and heat. Full of everything that made her poor, stupid heart ache with longing.
When she woke this time, it was really going to hurt.
“Kira.”
She didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want the harshness of reality shoved in her face. Not again.
“Kira. Wake up.”
The command in that beautiful voice was undeniable and her eyes opened no matter that she didn’t want them to.
And she found herself looking up into the same silver gaze that had been haunting her sleep for the past week.
It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t.
Then he smiled and she knew it couldn’t be him. Because she recognized that smile. Full of warmth and joy and. . . . love. That smile that wasn’t for her, could never be for her.
So it had to be another dream, right?
Lorenzo lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
She blinked as the heat of his palm connected with her bare skin. It felt real. It felt so real. “Lorenzo?” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse, not like her at all.
“I hope I didn’t frighten you. You looked so beautiful lying there asleep, I couldn’t help myself.”
“This is a dream, right? You’re not really here.”
That smile. It blinded her. “It’s not a dream, Kira.” His thumb moved on her cheek. “At least, your father might have thought the last ten minutes were a nightmare, but this definitely isn’t.”
She blinked again, her whole body drawing tight. He was leaning over her, so warm, so close, the familiar scent of him surrounding her. So real. “What are you doing here?”
He caressed her cheek, making everything inside her ache with longing. “What do you think? I’ve come to give you my heart. If you’ll have it.”
“W-what?” She didn’t move. Couldn’t. Shock was pulsing through her along with a desperate hope she was sure she shouldn’t feel.
His smile turned tender, h
is touch even gentler, as if she was a precious artifact he had to keep safe. “I shouldn’t have let you get out of that limo, Kira. I shouldn’t have let you go at all. I told myself I had to let you leave, that you wanted to go and so it was the unselfish thing to do. But it wasn’t. Because the decision was based on fear. My fear.
I was afraid of what I felt for you, Kira, and letting you go was the only way to protect myself.”
None of this made any kind of sense, which made it definitely a dream. “What do you mean what you felt for me?”
“I’m in love with you.” Another gentle movement of his thumb on her cheek. “And it scared me to death. I wanted to push you away, keep you at a distance. I thought it was about protecting you from what I wanted, trying not to make so many demands on you. But it wasn’t. It was more about keeping myself safe than anything else. And if that isn’t selfish, I don’t know what is.”
“Lorenzo.” She wanted to move, to break the spell. Open her eyes to the cold reality she woke up with every morning. Because her heart was breaking, and she couldn’t stand the pain.
“Kira.” The sound of her name, vibrating with passion, held her still. “I’ll give you whatever guarantees you need and you can have my heart along with them. I’ll promise to protect you with everything I have, do everything in my power to make you happy. And I’ll love you with everything I am.” His voice had gotten rougher, the lightning playing in his silver eyes, the hunger for her bleeding through the gray. “I know it might not be enough, but I’m offering it to you anyway.”
She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to believe this wasn’t a dream. Because her heart was breaking into pieces, shaking itself apart with the force of her longing.
Of course, this is real and you know it.
She was afraid, so afraid. Having everything she’d ever wanted just within reach was something she’d never anticipated or ever thought she deserved. Not after everything she’d done.
But here it was anyway. This man. Offering his heart to her. Offering everything to her.
Her eyes filled with tears.
A part of her wanted to refuse him, to continue to protect herself, to curl around her fear that she didn’t deserve any of this and hope that it would protect her.
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