The Unwanted Conti Bride

A mouth that invited sin with one word... A mouth he knew how to use every which way...

Sharp cheekbones created planes and grooves, in concert with the high forehead, as if every inch of it had been painstakingly designed and carved to render him breathtaking.

Those features should have been effeminate, too beautiful, yet something in his gaze, in his will, immediately imposed his fierce masculinity on the onlooker, as if the space around him had to become an extension of him.

And the devil was aware of his exquisite beauty, and the effect it had on the female sex, whether they were seventeen or seventy.

It was clear, from even up there, that Luca was sloshed if not drunk and so was the disreputable beauty, who also happened to be the Italian Finance minister’s almost ex-wife, Mariana.

Had she thrown away her powerful husband for Luca? Did she know that Luca would dispose of her like a toddler did last week’s toys?

Sophia could almost, only almost, feel pity for the woman.

The hiss of a curse falling from Antonio’s mouth by her side punctured her obsessively greedy perusal.

Luca, as usual, was creating a ruckus. Heads turned toward him, including Kairos and Valentina. A stiff-lipped Leandro cast a hand on Luca to stop him but his younger brother pushed it away.

Whispers abounded, like the drone of insects.

As indulgent as his family and friends were of his usual escapades, it seemed an open lovers’ spat—for Luca and the lady’s argument was becoming clear now—with another man’s wife was too scandalous for them to overlook.

“This is the man you want me to wed? The man who shamelessly shows off his affair with another man’s wife with no thought to his family or hers? The man who thinks every woman is a challenge to be conquered, a bet to win?” The memory of her own humiliation at his hands was like acid in her throat. “One who tramples hearts like they were little pieces of glass? I wouldn’t touch Luca if he were the last man on earth.”

Antonio turned toward her slowly, as if that small movement cost him a great effort. One look into his eyes and Sophia knew he was going in for the kill. Now she was the deer caught in the wolf’s sights.

“Are you aware, Sophia, that the bank is ready to call Salvatore’s loan in? Or that he has no way to meet the next production per schedule?”

Her heart sank to her toes. “That’s not true. He applied for an extension—”

“And was denied.”

Sunken eyes peered at her with a cunning that sent chills down her spine. He’d done this, she knew.

Oh, Salvatore had paved the way to their financial ruin with his own faulty decisions but this latest setback—the bank’s refusal for an extension—was Antonio’s doing.

Apparently, Antonio was just as desperate as she was. “Even if I were to agree to your outrageous proposal—” her entire life tied to that reckless playboy who had made her so weak once “—how do you think I can accomplish this? Even I, desperate that I am, can’t drag a man to the altar. And definitely not the Conti Devil, who cares for nothing except his own pursuits.”

Drunk as he was, Luca had somehow managed to steer the clinging woman away from the crowd. But her husky laughter and frantic begging in Italian could be heard from where they were standing, behind and beneath the balcony.

Heat tightened Sophia’s cheeks as she understood the gist of the woman’s phrases in Italian. Instead of distaste and fury, she felt pity.

The woman was in love with Luca.

Antonio dragged his gaze away from Luca, his mouth a tight line. His frail body seemed to vibrate with distaste, rage and, Sophia sensed with mounting shock, grief. Antonio Conti was grief-stricken over his grandson Luca. Why?

The image of the manipulative old man shifted in her mind, even as he took a deep breath, as if to push away the emotion. “No, my grandson cares for nothing in this world. His parents are long dead and Leandro, too, has washed his hands of Luca now.

“But to protect Valentina and her happiness, Luca will do anything. He will make a bargain with anyone to keep her birth a secret from the world.”

Sophia gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Her birth? This is not right. I want no part of it—”

“Valentina is not my son’s daughter. She is the product of an affair their mother had with her driver. And if this comes out, it will ruin Valentina’s standing in society and even her marriage to your friend Kairos.

“So use it to bind Luca to you. He will bend for Valentina’s happiness.”

No words came to her as Sophia stared at Antonio.

The idea of blackmailing the Conti Devil didn’t bother her so much as using Valentina’s secret. Dear God, she didn’t want to hurt anyone.

An acidic taste lingered in her mouth. “There are too many innocent people involved in this. I won’t hurt one of them just because—”

“Just because Salvatore might lose the company? Just because your mother and brothers might have to leave their estate, give up their cars, their place in this society? And what will you do, Sophia? Take up the project manager job your Greek friend offers you to support them? Quietly stand by as Salvatore watches chunks of his company broken down and auctioned off?”

“Why me? Why can’t you find a willing woman and force him to marry her? Why—”

“Because you’re tough and you do what needs to be done. You don’t have silly ideas of love in your head. Only you will do for the Conti Devil.”

* * *

Only you...

Antonio Conti’s words reverberated through Sophia.

Oh, how she wished she’d not come tonight... Now she had a possible way to dig their finances out of the ruin but it would only be achieved by selling her soul to the devil...

She wasn’t considering it, Sophia told herself, as she walked through the unending corridor of Villa de Conti. The black-and-white-checkered floor gave the mounting nausea within a physical bent.

Surely Antonio deluded himself that his devil-may-care, womanizing grandson could care about his sister. But she had to try. She had to see if there was a chance of salvaging their finances, if there was even a small sliver of hope that her mother, Salvatore and the twins wouldn’t be driven to the road.

She reached a wide, circular veranda at the back of the villa.

Jacket discarded, shirt open to reveal a dark olive chest, cuffs folded back, Luca stood leaning against the wall. A foot propped up against it, eyes closed, face turned to the sky. The curving shadows his long eyelashes cast on his cheekbones were like scythes.

Scythes and blades. Her usually nonviolent thoughts revolved around weapons when it came to Luca.

Moonlight caressed the planes of his face, shadows diluting the magnificent symmetry of his features. Rendering him a little less gorgeous.

A little less captivating.

A little less devilish.

Almost vulnerable and...strangely lonely.

Slowly, Sophia became aware of her own reaction. Damp palms. Skittering heartbeat. Pit in her stomach. Even after a decade, her body went into some kind of meltdown mode near him.

She must have made a sound because his eyes opened slowly. Only his eyes were visible in the silvery light. They fell on her, widened for an infinitesimal fraction of a second, searched her face and then assumed that laid-back, casual, infuriatingly annoying expression that she hated.

“Sophia Rossi, of steel balls and tough skin and icy heart.” Whatever alcohol he’d imbibed, his speech didn’t slur. Mocking and precise, it arrowed past her defenses. “Did you lose your way, cara?”