Mistress To a Latin Lover: The Sicilian's Defiant Mistress / The Italian's Pregnant Mistress / The Italian's Mistress. Jane Porter
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“No.” But he said it softly, so softly it forced her to look at him, really look at him, and his expression surprised her because he looked lost. Confused. And despite her anger and hurt she couldn’t walk out, not like this. “We need to talk. There are things we ought to discuss. Things you should know.”
“Then tell me now.”
“I don’t want a scene before Adriana’s wedding.”
“What you’re going to tell me will cause a scene?”
He hesitated. “It will be upsetting.”
His tone scared her. “What? You’re married?” She attempted to joke, needing to lighten the mood, needing laughter. But when she saw his shocked expression her laughter subsided. “I’m sorry. I was trying to add a little humor. But that’s not funny. I know it’s not funny.”
His expression changed yet again, shifting, hardening, his features becoming closed and unreadable. For a moment there was just silence then he muttered something, shook his head.
“Stay for the rest of the weekend,” he said. “Join us on the picnic, attend the wedding with me tonight and we’ll talk in the morning once everyone departs.” He paused, his gaze searching her face. “And you know we need to talk. We both need understanding… or whatever you think closure is.”
Closure. Her favorite word. And she didn’t want closure, she hated the very word, but she did need to understand what it was tearing them—and her—apart. She needed to do it for her. “Okay.”
He smiled, but she didn’t see relief in his eyes. If anything he seemed…resigned.
A few minutes later with shorts, swimsuit and sunscreen jammed into a woven bag, Cass walked with Maximos from the palazzo through town to the harbor where the boat waited.
But it wasn’t just a boat, Cass discovered, as they reached the small port dominated by one luxurious yacht. The sleek, stylish Guiliano yacht was a ninety footer, built in Viareggio, Italy, its sophisticated design practically an art form.
As Adriana had said, all the wedding party and guests had already boarded the yacht by the time Maximos and Cass arrived at Ortygia’s harbor. A lavish breakfast buffet had been prepared for the guests and the upper deck was a lively hub of activity as everyone milled about sipping champagne and balancing plates piled high with fresh fruits, sliced meats, cheeses and warm fragrant breads.
Maximos assisted Cass in boarding. “There’s coffee, juice, plenty to eat,” he said. “You’ll want to have a good breakfast now as it’ll be a number of hours before we arrive in Catania where we’ll disembark.”
“Is that where we’ll have lunch?”
“At the castle at Aci Castello.” Maximos signaled to the captain that they were ready to go. “If you’ll excuse me a minute, I should greet the others.”
He left her but he hadn’t forgotten her. A ship steward appeared shortly at her side with a cup of coffee laced heavily with milk and a small plate with a croissant and cheese. Her favorite breakfast.
She glanced toward Maximos who was making the rounds, playing the cordial host, and her lips curved ruefully. He confounded her. She honestly didn’t know what to make of him. Even here with his family he was so contained, so detached, essentially a closed book.
But why?
What made him mistrust so much? What made him want sex, but not love? Convenience, not commitment?
Why would a man as strong, as wealthy, as powerful as Maximos be so…afraid?
Now the yacht was pushing back from the harbor, motoring slowly past ancient Ortygia’s striking stone buildings, and Cass’s attention was caught by the buildings gleaming ivory and yellow in the wash of morning light.
She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything so beautiful as the dazzling displays of architecture set against the brilliant turquoise water. Gold and sapphire, lapis and silver. Breathtaking.
The yacht reached open water and picked up speed and Cass remained at the ship’s railing, watching the land recede.
“Would you like more coffee?” Maximos asked, joining her.
“Your steward’s very conscientious. He’s been by three times with fresh cups.”
“That’s what he’s paid to do.” Maximos rested his forearms on the railing, and he stared out at the bright blue water surrounding them. The morning was already quite warm and yet the breeze cut the heat.
Cass glanced at him over her shoulder. “Your sisters have been whispering and staring at me.”
“You’re beautiful.”
She made a face. “That’s not why they’re staring at me.”
He laughed, lifted his hands. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You are beautiful but that’s not why they’re looking at you. They’re curious.”
“About…?”
“You. I’ve never…brought anyone here before.”
“Never?”
“Not since I was a kid.”
Maximos saw the way she looked at him, and he knew she didn’t believe him, or maybe it’s that she didn’t understand him. Well, he couldn’t blame her. He didn’t understand himself.
All his life he’d thought he was one person and then he’d discovered he was someone else.
He’d always been strong, fair, just. But ever since meeting Cass…
He’d done nothing but play dirty. Break every rule.
“I’m glad you didn’t go,” he said after a moment. “I didn’t want you to leave like that.”
“But you know I’m going to leave. I have to.”
He heard the cool note in her voice. She was still upset with him. She should be.
“Eventually, yes,” he answered.
He saw her throat work and he felt a rush of inexplicable emotion—need, pain, anger, again, so much anger—and it was just a matter of days…hours…now before he told her the truth.
His gut churned knowing she’d be devastated. She’d never forgive him. Why would she forgive him? He couldn’t forgive himself.
And this is why he’d ended it six months ago, he reminded himself. This is why he’d let her go. It was better for her. Cleaner. Smarter. Safer.
For her. And him. But mainly her.
How could she move on if she were still so emotionally tied to him?
Her hands balled on the railing. “You make me crazy,” she whispered. “You pull away when I need you, come to me when I don’t. You hurt me, and confuse