The Tuscan's Revenge Wedding (Italian Billionaires #1)(26)

“I had plenty of time,” he said with the quick lift of a brow. “There was no need to be frightened.”

“I wasn’t afraid,” she said immediately. “But I fail to see how you can condemn my brother when you don’t know that his accident wasn’t caused by something similar to what just happened.”

“Performing a deliberate maneuver where every inch of the road is familiar is not the same as showing off on an unfamiliar highway.”

“There’s nothing whatever wrong with Jonathan’s judgment behind the wheel, or with his reflexes, either. He might stretch a point with his own life on the track, but would never risk the life of a passenger.”

He gave her a swift look while negotiating yet another bend. “Defend him if you must — I can’t argue with your loyalty and can even admire it. But he wound up going over the edge. Nothing you say can change that.”

She wanted to refute the charge, but that was impossible. Turning away, blinking against a sudden press of tears, she stared out at the steep and brushy slope that fell away down to the sea with only an occasional stretch of guardrail at the worst bends. Some stretches, she saw with a shudder, went straight down.

What must it have been like to go careening over that edge? The terror of knowing it was happening, the crunch of rock and brush, the weightlessness and endless fall. It must have been horrifying, even before the crash at the bottom.

“Was it somewhere near here—?” she began, her voice constricted in her throat.

“We passed the place five minutes ago.”

“Oh.” He was becoming far too adept at guessing what she meant to say, though she was just as glad she hadn’t needed to finish her question. Nor did she want to see the exact place where her brother and Carita had come so close to dying, not really. It would make it all too real.

They rode in silence for a minute or two. Nico glanced her way, for she saw the movement with her peripheral vision. His lips firmed before he looked back at the road again. He spoke then without looking at her.

“On another topic, but one of importance, I must ask you not to encourage Carisa to experiment with things which are not suitable for her.”

“What?”

“The lip gloss, for a start.”

“But you seemed fine with it earlier.” He had, in fact, been charm itself as he teased Carisa about it. Watching him with his young sister had been a revelation. She had not realized he could be so warm and caring, so unselfconsciously affectionate.

He tipped his head in assent without taking his eyes from the road. “I preferred not to upset her by forbidding something she may never try again. But makeup of any kind has no place on her dressing table or in her life.”

“Carisa isn’t a child. She should be able to enjoy some of the small pleasures that come with being female.”

“Those small pleasures, as you call them, may well give her ideas that it would dangerous for her to act upon. She is innocence itself, and could be too easily led into something so monstrous it sickens me to think of it.”

“Are you suggesting I would deliberately push her into it?”

“I’m saying the world is full of men who would love to tap into the De Frenza bank account. Their methods of persuading Carisa she can’t live without them could be deceptive and confusing for her. Or they could be both sordid and painful.”

“Painful.”

“Forcing themselves on her--pressing the issue with something more than normal persuasion — is not impossible.”

“As you think Jonathan persuaded Carita, I suppose!”

He flicked a fast glance in her direction, his eyes black with anger. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you were thinking it, or at least you did think it before you met him.”

“I was aware of the possibility. Ignoring it is something I can’t afford if I am to protect my sisters.”

“A noble concept, but stifling, don’t you think? And just a little far-fetched, given how protected Carisa is at all times. If you really want what’s best for her, you might look closer to home.”

“What do you mean?”

“You might tell your grandmother, your aunt and even Yolanda not to stuff her with sweets. The habit is far more dangerous than anything I might encourage her to do.”

What Carisa ate was none of her business and Amanda knew it, but it seemed someone should point out the problem. Besides, Nico should not be so free with his criticism if he wasn’t willing to hear a few home truths.

“Sweets?” he demanded with a scowl.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed that everyone uses them to distract her whenever they think she may be upset, or as a bribe when there’s something they want to her do. She’s overweight because food is constantly being pushed at her. Well, and because she has little to do, as far as I can tell, other than sleep and eat.”

“Food is one of the few pleasures available to Carisa. Why should she not enjoy it?”

“She should, of course, but not constantly. She eats because food is always there and everyone expects it, and because she’s bored.”

“Bored.”

“Reading and playing games like a two-year-old isn’t enough. She needs something more in her life.”

“There is little more she can manage with safety.”