A Deal for the Di Sione Ring

by Jennifer Hayward

Nate turned to thank the registrar, apparently not as gobsmacked by the kiss as she had been. She attempted to gather her composure as he moved with ruthless efficiency to tie up loose ends with the officiant, summoned a bellboy to gather their things and had the car brought around.

  When they were ensconced in the back of the sedan again, headed toward the affluent, beachside suburb of Mondello where her solicitor lived, Mina rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Relived that kiss. How her knees had literally melted beneath her.

  “Are you okay?”

  Deep and velvety soft, Nate’s sinful voice interrupted her recap.

  She opened her eyes. “Why did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “The kiss. That kiss.”

  Amusement darkened his gaze. “That wasn’t a kiss, Mina. That was a peck on the mouth to satisfy the registrar’s expectations.”

  She wondered what a real kiss from him would be like. Unforgettable, she imagined.

  “I will concede,” he drawled, his eyes on the hot color flooding her face, “that we have some kind of chemistry, wife. Too bad it’s a marriage in name only.”

  She laced her hands together in her lap and glued her eyes to them.

  “Surely you’ve kissed Silvio,” he prodded. “Perhaps even bedded him? I looked him up, Mina. He has quite a reputation.”

  She lifted her chin. “Silvio has always been a gentleman.”

  His brows lifted.

  “Well, until that...incidente.”

  Nate sat back in the seat, arms crossed over his chest after that, watching her with an enigmatic look. Likely glad he was getting rid of her shortly...

  They made the reasonably short trip to her solicitor’s home quickly in the quiet Sunday traffic.

  Pasquale Tomei smiled as he opened the door of his Liberty-style villa. His smile faded as his gaze moved over Mina in her wedding dress and then to Nate. “Where is Silvio?”

  “She married me, not him,” Nate said matter-of-factly. “True love and all that.”

  Pasquale’s eyes widened. Mina pushed a stray chunk of hair out of her face and straightened her spine. “We are in a bit of a hurry, Pasquale. If you could give us the ring, we can be on our way.”

  “I’ll need to see the paperwork.” The solicitor waved them into the house. “There are terms I need to explain.”

  Terms? Mina frowned as they followed the lawyer down a hallway and into his office. Sitting down beside Nate on the opposite side of the desk, she handed Pasquale their paperwork. He looked it over and handed it back. “This is quite a change in plans. Your mother was very excited about your and Silvio’s union.”

  The color drained from her face. “Mina is free to marry whom she chooses,” Nate interceded, a blunt edge to his voice. “So if we could have the ring...”

  Pasquale took a box out of the drawer and handed it to Mina. She opened the navy blue velvet jeweler’s box and there it was. The Fountain Ring. A stunning square-cut sapphire of the deepest blue surrounded by diamonds set in a platinum band. A beautiful piece to be sure, but it was its extensive history and the mystery that surrounded the ring’s origins that made it so valuable.

  She closed the box and looked at Pasquale. “What were the terms you spoke of?”

  The lawyer set forth a sheaf of papers that had been sitting on his desk, moving to a page he had marked with a colored tab. “There is one condition I must make you aware of. You must remain married for one year for me to grant you full title of the ring.”

  If there was any color left in her face, it fled now. Nate’s jaw dropped open. “Why?”

  “Mina’s father wanted to see her happily married before the ring was made hers.”

  Mina shook her head. “That condition was never mentioned to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” the lawyer said. “But as you can see, it’s there in black and white.”

  She turned to absorb the silent tension in the man beside her. His usual even expression was firmly in place, but in his eyes she could read fury. Barely leashed fury.

  He directed a look at the lawyer. “Mina can keep the ring in her possession during this time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” Nate closed his fingers around her shoulder as he stood up, propelling her with him. “We should go.”

  They thanked the lawyer. Nate hurried her down the steps and into the waiting car, giving the driver a curt instruction to take them to the airport. To step on it.

  Her stomach dropped. She waited until the privacy screen had come up between them and the driver before she said quietly, “You are worried he will tip off Silvio.”

  “Or your mother.”

  Right. That would be just as bad because her mother would go straight to Silvio and... She took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm. A tense silence stretched between them. “Nate—” she said haltingly. “I didn’t know.”

  He turned his dark, blazing gaze on her. “It’s a pretty big detail to not know about, Mina, given your desire to get your hands on the ring and sell it.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I was never told about this condition. I swear, I did not know.”

  His gaze raked her face. She squared her shoulders under its hard, cold weight. “What are the terms in the document?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, do we have to live together? Are there any other stipulations attached to the marriage?”

  She shook her head. “That’s all the document said.”

  He lapsed into silence. She curled up in her corner of the seat, blood pounding against her temples. What if he abandoned their agreement? Left her here for Silvio to punish? She had no money, no possessions, nothing to get away.

  Long moments passed. When she was teetering on the edge of complete and irreversible panic, he turned to her, icy control back in his face. “What was your plan after we left? Where were you intending on having me take you?”

  She shook her head, her mouth trembling. “I—I don’t have one. I just left my fiancé at the altar, Nate. I—I’m—”

  In shock.

  “Okay,” he said finally after a long moment. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get on my jet, we’re going to fly to Capri where I have business to attend to, and we will sort this out on the way.”

  “Capri?”

  His mouth tightened. “That’s the destination on offer.”

  She closed her eyes. What choice did she have? Her first course of action had to be to get out of here. Then she could regroup.

  The miles flew by and then they were at the airport, an expedited process seeing them quickly through security. The official asked for her passport. Mina handed it to him and smiled when he gave it back. Nate gripped her elbow in a tight hold and started walking her through the doors toward the tarmac. Fast.

  “Keep your head down,” he muttered. “And keep walking.”

  Her reflexive action, of course, was to turn her head. Two men in dark suits stood arguing with the guards covering the security checkpoint. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “Dio mio. Nate—”

  “Put your head down,” he barked, “and walk. He isn’t going to touch you. I promise.”

  She kept walking, her knees threatening to give way beneath her. Nate slid his arm around her waist and propelled her forward. Up the steps to the jet they went, the doors closing behind them. Nate told her to sit down and buckle up, then walked into the cockpit to say something to the pilot.

  In minutes they were cleared to leave by the control tower. Mina had never felt so light-headed in all her life as they taxied down the runway and took off, lifting sharply as a gust of wind buoyed them higher.

  Dread consumed her. “It was Silvio, wasn’t it?” S
he turned to look at Nate as her stomach rose and fell with the ascending aircraft. “Who sent those men?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NATE SURVEYED MINA’S panicked expression, her fear as she curled her hands around the armrests, knuckles white, overriding the fury he felt at his now excessively complicated life. The fury he felt toward the abusive man who had just tried to come after her.

  “I suspect so,” he said grimly. “I will find out for certain. But there’s no need to worry. He can’t touch you now.”

  Her eyes flashed. “What if he sends his men after me? Pasquale could give him all our information.”

  “Then he will know I am not a man to be messed with. That it’s fruitless to come after you.”

  “You’re only one man. You saw the men he sent.”

  “He won’t get past my security detail.”

  “Security detail?”

  “I’m a rich man, Mina. It’s a prerequisite.”

  She sat back in her chair, looking so chalk white he feared she might pass out. When the attendant came around to offer them drinks he asked for two glasses of brandy and put one in front of Mina.

  “I don’t drink liquor.”

  “Today you do.” He nodded toward the glass. “Drink. It’ll help your nerves.”

  She stared dubiously at the amber liquid. Took a little sip and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like it.”

  “Keep drinking.”

  He leaned back against the seat, resting his brandy on his thigh. His temporary wife was now his wife for a year, a year, a state of being he had never once contemplated entering into nor wanted. That was if he chose to go through with the deal he and Mina had made, a vastly different one than he had signed on for.

  He took in the stunning, innocent creature who was now his wife. Her disheveled hair, streaked makeup and worry lined face. His cynical side suggested she might have known about the year-long clause in the will, perhaps had seen an opportunity for escape in him that had been sweetened by the idea of a rich husband. But his gut told him that wasn’t the case. Mina hadn’t even blinked when he’d said the word prenup. She’d looked as frozen, as in shock, as he’d been when Pasquale Tomei had unveiled that condition. It could not have been manufactured.

  With that stipulation, the key to her escape had been stripped from her, the ability to start a life away from her clearly uncaring mother and abusive ex-fiancé. He had been the one walking into the middle of things offering solutions. And now he had a much bigger one to find.

  What was he going to do with a wife? With Mina? He couldn’t just dump her in Capri and tell her to contact him when she could sell him the ring. Marchetti was too likely to get to her there.

  She needed his protection. He needed that ring to show Giovanni before he died. To give him a chance to reconnect with the past. Which meant his wife was now his responsibility. For a year.

  “When you talked about obtaining your freedom,” he said, “what did you envision yourself doing?”

  “I speak multiple languages. I thought I would follow in my father’s footsteps. Become a businesswoman.”

  “Do you have a business degree?”

  “No.” She pressed her lips together, her dark gaze dropping away from his. “I went to a finishing school in France.”

  A finishing school. Did those still exist? “And your father. What business was he in?”

  “He was the CEO of our family chocolate company—Felicia. It was one of the biggest in Europe before my mother sold it to an American conglomerate.”

  He took a sip of his drink. “Most people who want to get into business today have studied it in school. It’s very difficult to find a position without a degree or a diploma.”

  Her chin rose. “I expect to start out at the bottom. I’d thought maybe I could work as a chambermaid at the Giarruso, then find a higher position.”

  Admirable if wishful thinking. Unless, of course, a superior was willing to give her a shot in the business as Giovanni had given him.

  He thought back to Mina’s quick, well-thought-out answers that day at the Giarruso. She had the natural business instincts he himself had once had. A moldable brain. Was it time for him to pay it forward? To give her the same chance he had been given?

  He had been eighteen, working the night shift at a food warehouse, when Alex had tracked him down to save Giovanni. Eighteen and angry. His mother had managed to straighten him out after his run-in with the dark side in his midteens, begging him to stop running errands for the neighborhood enforcer before he got himself shot or killed. But she hadn’t been able to convince him to go back to school. They needed the money and he couldn’t just stand by and watch her work herself into her grave while he studied in a useless English lit class.

  He’d taken a job at the warehouse where he’d discovered what hell truly felt like. Eight-hour night shifts in the dank, cavernous space, the fluorescent lights beating into his temples as he broke his back hauling flat after flat of produce into place.

  He remembered leaving work one morning a few months after he’d started, the faint light of dawn creeping across the sky. Back killing him, lungs tight, he’d stopped and leaned against the building, wondering if this miserable existence was life. Because if this was what it was, he didn’t want it. At least when he’d been working the streets he’d had money in his pocket. He’d had his self-respect. He’d been somebody.

  For the first time in years, he’d allowed his hatred toward his father loose, driving his fist into the concrete facade of the warehouse, leaving him with two broken fingers and no less bitterness. He hadn’t wanted a life like his half siblings’ lives—but to be the result of his father’s slumming? To not even be worthy of acknowledgment? It festered in him like a slow-moving disease.

  When Alex had sought him out weeks later, he had been teetering on the edge of darkness and light, his old life a seductive siren’s call. Giovanni had made him choose. Embrace the chance you’ve been offered, he’d said, or forever cling to your anger. There is no in between.

  The darkness he’d sensed in his grandfather, the raw acknowledgment he knew the dark side because he hadn’t been able to pull his own son from it, had touched something inside Nate, perhaps the tiny sliver of hope he had left in him. He had chosen the light.

  Blinking, he pulled himself out of the memory to focus on Mina’s big dark eyes, the expression in them as adrift, as fear-driven, as his had been. She had no money, nowhere to go. She was as lost a soul as he had been. He couldn’t let her fall through the cracks.

  By the time they had landed in Capri a short while later, a plan had formed in his head. It would solve all his issues, except, of course, the ring on his finger. That, unfortunately, wasn’t going anywhere.

  * * *

  Mina stood on the terrace of the penthouse suite of the Grand Hotel Emelia, the Bay of Marina Piccola sparkling in the distance. She had been to the glamorous island of Capri once with her family when she had been very young, six or seven. She only remembered bits and pieces of the holiday, but it was one of her best memories.

  The beautiful beaches and the lovely walks along the coast had been her favorite activities, made extra special by the time she’d gotten to spend with her busy father, who’d taken a real holiday for once. They’d spent hours playing in the sand, digging sand castles and moats while her mother shopped and lunched with the jet-set crowd.

  Her father had indulged her mother’s every whim on the trip, including generous amounts of both his time and money. Her mother had, in turn, sparkled, and everything had been perfect for once. No arguments between her fiery parents that seemed to come all too frequently at home. Just sunshine and laughter.

  She remembered playing with her favorite doll, Eva, on the beach with her father. Ankle-deep in the surf, she’d turned her back on the doll, only to find Eva
gone when she turned around seconds later. Her father had spent the better part of an hour trying to retrieve the doll, understanding this was life or death for Mina. When he’d finally found her, laying a soaked, bedraggled Eva in her eager hands, he’d given her one of his stern lectures. “Take care of precious things, Mina. When they’re gone, they’re gone. I won’t always be able to bring them back for you.”

  Her eyes burned as the glittering water of the bay she’d misplaced Eva in sparkled in the early-evening sun. How apropos her father’s words had been. She’d lost him soon after that—her one grounding force.

  Her lashes came down to shield her eyes from the hot glow of the sun, a pang of longing rippling through her. How she wished he was here right now to make sense of everything. If he was, she would never have left her life to venture into the complete unknown. She wouldn’t be married to a stranger, “Bastien Nathaniel Brunswick,” her marriage certificate had elaborated, who was apparently so wealthy he owned this five-star hotel the glitterati called home. She wouldn’t be feeling so wholly, all-encompassingly lost.

  She wrapped her arms around herself as a chill nipped at her skin, the heavenly scent of bougainvillea and campanula floating on the breeze. She didn’t even own the clothes on her back. The expensive dress she was wearing was one Nate had sent down to the boutique for so she could get out of her wedding dress, a good thing because every time she looked at it she thought about Silvio and how furious he must be. How furious her mother must be.

  Something Nate was apparently ascertaining as he made a litany of phone calls to Dio knew who to find out. Her pulse picked up, her blood thrumming through her veins. What could he possibly say to smooth things over? To fix the mess she’d created? To warn Silvio off?

  Was he finishing off his role as hero by ensuring Silvio left her alone before he threw her out and said thank you, but no thank you? I had only intended a twenty-four-hour marriage and a ring as compensation and this is way, way beyond that...

  A whiff of citrus filled her head just before a delicate silk wrap landed around her shoulders. She jumped as Nate reached around her to tie the silk into a loose knot.