becoming so predictable.”
“I—I …” She blinked as dark spots gathered along the edges of her eyes. She felt light-headed, but her arms and legs were unusually heavy. She couldn’t move.
He stepped away from the door and approached her. “I don’t have time for your games. You’re coming with me now.”
“I …” She needed to move. Run. Shamelessly lie.
But just as Antonio reached for her her head lolled back and she fainted, collapsing at his feet.
CHAPTER TWO
“BELLA!” Antonio sprung into action and caught her as her backpack fell onto the wooden floor with a thud. He lifted her and couldn’t help noticing how light and delicate she was. Fragile. The word whispered in his mind like a warning.
She slumped against his arm and he held on tight as alarm pulsed through his veins. He swept the wisps of hair from her face. Her eyes were closed and her complexion was very pale. He laid her carefully on the mattress. Crouching down next to her, Antonio took a quick survey of the tiny room. The beige paint was peeling off the walls in chunks and a faint scent of rotting garbage wafted through the small open window. There was nothing else. No sink or refrigerator so he could get her water. There was hardly enough space for the mattress. How could she live like this? Why was she living here when she had a life and a future in America?
“Bella?” He tapped her cheek with his fingers. Her skin was soft and cold.
Isabella frowned and pursed her lips. She murmured something but it was incomprehensible. She didn’t open her eyes.
Antonio started to get suspicious. His first instinct had been to take care of Isabella. Some things never change, he thought bitterly. But what if this was an act? Did she hope that he would back off? Not a chance.
“Isabella,” he called out sharply.
“Go away,” she said drowsily. She turned to her side and curled her legs close to her chest.
“No.” He grabbed her shoulder and gave her a shake.
“I’m serious.” She squeezed her eyes shut and weakly tried to push his hand away. “Leave me alone.”
He wished he could. He wished he had left her alone when he’d first seen her. It had been early March. The sun had been shining but there had been a chill in the air as he’d left his office. He had just pocketed his cell phone when he’d seen a young woman standing a few feet away on the sidewalk.
Antonio had done a double-take and halted.
“Is everything all right, sir?” his assistant had asked.
No. His world had taken a sudden tilt as he’d stared at the blonde, dressed simply in a fitted leather jacket, skintight jeans and knee-high boots. The violent kick of attraction had made him take a staggering step back.
He knew many beautiful young women, but there had been something different about this one. He had wanted to accept her silent challenge. It could have been her don’t-mess-with-me stance or the jaunty tilt of her black fedora. Maybe it had been the bright red scarf draped around her neck that hinted at attitude. Whatever it was, he had found it irresistible.
“Sir?” his assistant had prompted.
Antonio had barely heard him. His attention had been on the blonde as she’d turned a map upside down, clearly hopeless at navigating. Then suddenly she’d shrugged her shoulders and stuffed the map carelessly into her backpack. Antonio had watched as the blonde had started walking away as if she was ready for whatever adventure she faced.
Her beauty and vitality had intrigued him, and her bold spirit had captured his imagination. He’d known he had to meet this woman or regret missing the opportunity.
“Cancel my meeting,” he had said to his stunned assistant.
Following an elemental instinct he had not wanted to question, Antonio had ignored the chauffeured car waiting for him and followed the blonde.
His pulse had quickened as he’d watched the swing of her long blonde hair and the sway of her hips. She’d looked over her shoulder, and as their gazes connected he had seen the flare of attraction in her blue eyes. Instead of looking away she had turned and approached him.
“Mi scusi,” she had said, her voice strong and clear as she’d met his gaze boldly. “Do you speak English?”
“Of course,” he had said, noticing she was American. There had been no light of recognition in her eyes—just lust. She’d had no idea who he was.
“Great. I’m looking for the Piazza del Popolo,” she had said, her attention clearly drawn to his mouth. She had absently swiped the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip.
Antonio had clenched his jaw. He had wanted to know how her lips tasted, but it had been too soon, too fast. The last thing he’d wanted to do was scare her off. “It’s not far,” he had replied gruffly as attraction pulsed between them. “I can show you where it is.”
He had been fascinated as he’d watched her cheeks turn pink. She hadn’t tried to hide her interest, but she’d been fighting an internal struggle. He had seen the rise and fall of her chest and the eagerness in her expression. She had been tempted to explore whatever was happening between them.
“Wouldn’t it be out of your way?”
“Not at all,” he had lied. His voice had softened as his chest had tightened with growing excitement. “I happen to be going in that direction.”
“What luck!” Her broad smile had indicated that she didn’t believe him. She could have said she was going to Venice and he would have given the same answer. “By the way, I’m Isabella.”
He had taken Bella to bed that night. There had been no games, no pretense. There had also been no indication that this American student on Spring Break would twist him in so many knots that he would never be the same again. She hadn’t been very experienced, but a generous and affectionate lover.
Giovanni had thought so, too.
The reminder burned like acid, eating away at him.
Antonio stood up and shoved his clenched fists in his pockets. “You told me you weren’t sick.”
“I’m not sick,” she countered faintly.
The Isabella he knew was full of life and ready to take on the world. This Isabella looked like a strong gust of wind would knock her over. “You need to see a doctor.”
Isabella suddenly opened her eyes wide. She blinked a few times and darted a quick look at him before keeping her gaze on the floor. She rose, resting awkwardly on her elbow and pushing the wayward hair out of her face. “I’ve seen a doctor. I’m not sick. Just exhausted. All I need is to eat and sleep properly.”
Antonio cast her a look of disbelief. “I would ask for a second opinion.”
“I don’t need one. Now, go away,” she ordered with the flutter of her hand.
“I’m
