The Tuscan's Revenge Wedding (Italian Billionaires #1)(50)
She didn’t please, not at all. Still, she could not refuse to discuss her brother’s welfare. Head high, she walked ahead of him into the study with its tall windows that soared to a taller ceiling, its book-lined walls, wingback chair covered in fine leather and jewel-like carpets underfoot.
He closed the door behind him, but did not go to the polished walnut desk as she expected. Rather, he moved to the window and stood staring out for long moments, holding back the heavy velvet drape as he propped one hand on the frame. She followed him with her gaze, noting the width of his shoulders under a shirt of tobacco brown silk, the perfect fit of his trousers on his lean hips.
“I owe you a most abject apology,” he said over his shoulder.
She looked away in some haste, staring at their reflections in the glass of the bookcase behind his desk. “If you intend to tell me that Jonathan was right, and you seduced me because of some ancient idea of—”
“No. Never that.” He turned to face her, his expression bleak. “I am not that cold-blooded, I assure you. I will admit the idea of tit-for-tat in ancient vendetta crossed my mind once or twice when we first met, but merely as an excuse. I wanted you. I made love to you because I wanted you. Let me be clear on that.”
A hard knot in her chest she had not known was there seemed to ease at his words. She breathed slowly in and out with its release. Even so, there was precious little comfort in his assertion. He had wanted her, past tense. Apparently he did so no longer.
“You don’t deny the seduction,” she said almost at random.
“Are you suggesting you were unwilling?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he braced against the window frame behind him. “I remember it differently.”
Hot color flooded over her, burning in her face, but she would not look away. “You made certain of it, made certain I asked. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“It matters to me.”
“A point of honor, I suppose. Well, never mind. I’ll soon be gone. You won’t have to think of it again.”
“You would dismiss our night together, just like that?”
“How else is there to deal with it? I don’t expect you to marry me because of it. You may have feudal tendencies, but I don’t believe you’re that mired in the past.”
“Thank you for that much,” he said with irony strong in his voice, “though it’s possible you’re wrong. But no, the apology I wished to make is for being so certain your brother was at fault in the accident, for the things I said to him and to you about it, for failing to believe you when you tried to defend him.”
“Oh.” The knowledge that she could have saved herself a great deal of humiliation by keeping quiet was galling. She looked away from him, wondering how soon she could leave the room and put the memory of this conversation forever behind her.
“Does that mean I am forgiven?”
“You didn’t know Jonathan, so had little to go on. Even I, who did, still assumed he was behind the wheel.” She shook her head. “I didn’t really blame you for being upset with him, and certainly don’t blame you now.”
“Excellent. We progress. You will agree, I hope, that it’s best if Carita and your brother come here to the villa as soon as possible?”
“I’m sure Carita will be better with her family around her.”
“So you said before, and were perfectly correct as it turns out.” The faintest of smiles came and went across his face. “You see how magnanimous I can be when forced to it? But what of Jonathan?”
“I’m sure he’ll be delighted to be near your sister if you will allow it.”
“It’s a little late to forbid it, yes? Besides, he could have parlayed the accident and the baby Carita carries into a hefty settlement. That he did not, that he allowed himself to be accused rather than exposing her to public censure or police involvement speaks well for him. Added to that, his effect upon Carita seems entirely beneficial.”
“Magnanimity indeed,” she said with a small twist to her lips.
“A physical therapist can be brought in to work with him. In a month or two, when they are both much better, there will be a wedding.”
She swung to face him. “You … you have made up your mind about their marriage — you approve it?”
“As an alternative to them living together, you mean? Davvero, indeed. I have no doubt my sister would run away with him if he asked. Well, or beg him to run away with her if he failed to ask soon enough.”
“And he would absolutely agree if his allowing her to drive his car is any gauge.”
“My thought exactly. As my grandmother would be scandalized by the thought of her granddaughter living in sin, marriage seems the best solution all around. That is assuming that Jonathan wants to be married.”
“I don’t believe there can be any doubt.” He would be over the moon, Amanda thought with a lump in her throat. She couldn’t wait to tell him, or at least to be there when he understood what was in store.
“And what of you,” he asked, his voice dropping to a lower note. “What do you think of marriage?”
She summoned a smile. “I’m sure Jonathan will do his best to make Carita happy.”
“Certo, but that was not my meaning.”
“Then what?” she asked in real perplexity.