Her Shameful Secret

Her hoarse voice was nothing like the husky whisper he remembered.

“Hello, Bella.”

No, no, no!

She looked up sharply and her cloudy eyes cleared as she focused on Antonio. He was here. In front of her. Waiting for her to make the next move, even though they both knew it was useless.

Run. The word screamed through her brain.

Isabella slowly blinked. Maybe she was hallucinating. She hadn’t been herself lately. There was no way Antonio Rossi, billionaire, member of the social elite, would be sitting in this café.

But her imagination couldn’t conjure the electric current coursing through her body from his nearness. Or the panic that stole her breath. Her heart gave a brutal leap before it plummeted.

Does he know? Is that why he’s here?

She couldn’t stop staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Antonio wore a black pinstripe suit, the ruthlessly tailored lines emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean, muscular body. The hand-made shirt and silk tie offered a veneer of civility, but they couldn’t mask his animal magnetism. He was the most sensual man she had ever known, and the most powerful.

Antonio Rossi was also the most callous person she’d met.

Isabella took short, choppy breaths, but she was suffocating with dread. She couldn’t gauge his next move or his next thought. She only knew that it was going to be devastating.

She had been an idiot to get involved with him. He was the kind of man her mother had often warned her about. Antonio would see a woman like her only as a plaything and then discard her when something better came along. Isabella knew all this but she had still been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Even now she felt the pull and she couldn’t stop staring at him.

His eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, but the angles and lines of his savagely masculine face were just as sharp and aggressive as she remembered. Antonio wasn’t beautiful, but his dark, striking looks made women of all ages eager for another glimpse of him.

Run. And don’t look back.

“Antonio?” Her voice was high and reedy. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come for you.”

She shivered. She’d never thought she would see him again or hear those words. But it was too late. She couldn’t go back. She wouldn’t let herself think that it was possible. “Why?”

“Why?” Antonio leaned back in his chair and arrogantly studied her appearance.

Her skin tingled as she felt his lazy gaze sliding over her tired body and cheap clothes. Her pulse tripped before galloping at maximum speed. How much did he know?

She couldn’t tell because his sunglasses hid his eyes. Was he here because he missed the sex? What they had shared had been hot, raw and primitive. It had made her wild, irresponsible and addicted to him. When they were together nothing else had mattered. And if she were smart she would keep her distance before she fell under his spell again.

Her muscles were locked, her feet were still, but her heart pounded hard against her ribs. She should tell him to leave and then get as far away as she could, but instead she was letting him take a good, long look at her.

“You need to leave. Now.” She forced the words out. She needed to be harsh. In the end it would be kinder this way.

“Bella …” he warned in a low growl.

Only Antonio called her that. She’d used to love hearing him say it with a hint of a smile when he greeted her, or in awe as she brought him satisfaction with her mouth. Now, hearing him say it again, this time in anger, it brought a pang in her heart.

“I have nothing to say to you,” she said in a rush.

His face hardened with displeasure. Antonio whipped off his dark sunglasses and glared at her. “How about offering your condolences?”

Her chest tightened, squeezing her lungs until she found it difficult to breathe. His dark brown eyes ensnared her. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. She had never seen such fury or pain. It wouldn’t take much to unleash it. If she moved he would pounce.

“I only just heard about Giovanni’s car accident. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Antonio’s eyes narrowed and she could swear his anger quivered in the air.

“Such a display of grief for an ex-lover,” he said in a raspy low tone. “It must have been a nasty break-up. What happened? Cheated on him, too?”

He didn’t know. She breathed a little easier. “I did not have an affair with Giovanni,” she said, holding her notepad and pen against her chest as if they could shield her from Antonio’s wrath. She took a cautious step back.

“Bella, one more move …”

“Signorina,” the man from the other table interrupted, “you forgot the—”

“One moment,” Bella pleaded to the customer as she took the opportunity to shuffle away from Antonio. “I’ll be right back.”

She tried to march into the kitchen just as she felt Antonio’s large hand fall on her shoulder. She still recognized his touch, she thought as she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting off the self-recrimination and longing swirling inside her.

Antonio whirled her around until she faced him. If he hadn’t been holding her so tight she’d have collapsed. She felt so sick. So tired. Of worrying. Of barely surviving.

Isabella tilted her head back to look him in the eye. She had forgotten how powerfully tall he was. His height and strength had used to make her feel safe and protected. Now it made her feel extremely vulnerable.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Antonio said. His voice was soft and dangerous. He lowered his head until he blocked out the rest of the world. “You were surprisingly difficult to find.”

Isabella’s stomach twisted with fear. Antonio placed both hands on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her like talons. He surrounded her. She felt caged. Trapped.

“What’s going on here?” Her boss’s harsh voice sounded close. “Isabella, what have you done?”

“I’ll take care of it,” she promised the older man without taking her eyes off Antonio. One touch, one look and she was his. It had always been that way.

The world started to spin and she swallowed roughly. She was mentally and physically exhausted. She wasn’t at the top of her game when she needed to be the most. Why did Antonio have to reappear in her life when she was so fragile?

“I don’t know why you bothered.” Isabella took a quick glimpse and saw her boss next to the stove, saw his undisguised interest in the rich customer in his café. “You still think I was having an affair with Giovanni when I was with you.”

Antonio’s eyes darkened and his harsh features tightened with anger. “Oh, I know you were.”

He hadn’t forgiven his brother. Or her. He never would. Isabella swallowed hard, tapping into the last of her strength. She felt wobbly and weak, but the fight hadn’t quite left her.

She just wished Antonio would take his hands off her. Her skin stung with awareness as tension whipped between them like a lash. She couldn’t think straight when he touched her. She’d never been able to.

“I know you were his mistress,” he drawled softly. “Why else would he leave you something in his will?”

Isabella cringed. That couldn’t be good. She had thought Giovanni was her friend, letting her stay with him and helping her out. He hadn’t revealed his true nature until it was too late. “Go away, Antonio. You don’t know anything.”

“I’m not leaving without you. You have to sign some documents in the law office as soon as possible.”

Panic bloomed inside her. She wasn’t going anywhere with Antonio. Isabella tried to show no expression, but she knew she’d failed when she saw the glint of dark satisfaction in Antonio’s eyes. He wanted to make her uncomfortable. He wanted to see her suffer.