Latin Lovers: Hot-Blooded Sicilians: Valentino's Love-Child / The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal / Sicilian Millionaire, Bought Bride

Marsala was a big enough city that he could take her to dinner at restaurants where he was unlikely to run into his business associates. Even less probable was the possibility of being seen by family. However, there were still some small-town ideals in Marsala, and Faith, as a single woman, could not afford to have her reputation tarnished if she wanted to continue teaching art at the elementary school.

“Did my saying that bother you?” Surely she understood the implications if he had reacted differently.

“Does it matter? Our relationship, such that it is, has never been about what I was comfortable with.” Her eyes were filled with a hurt anger that shocked him.

“That is not true. You were no more interested in a long-term committed relationship than I was when we first met.”

“Things change.”

“Some things cannot.” He wished that was not the case, but it was. “We do not have to lose what we do have because it cannot be more.”

“You spent two weeks ignoring me, Tino.”

“I was out of country.”

It was a lame excuse and her expression said she knew it. “You forwarded my calls to voice mail.”

“I needed a breathing space. I had some things to work out,” he admitted. “But I have apologized. I will do so again if that will improve things for you.”

She flicked her hand as if dismissing his offer. “Did you work out your problems?”

“I believe so.”

“And it included treating me like a nonentity in your life in front of your family?” she asked with a definite edge to her voice.

“If I had not, my mother would have gotten wind of our relationship. She knows me too well.”

At that moment, Faith’s eyes reflected pure sorrow. “And that would have been a catastrophe?”

“Yes.” He hated giving the confirmation when she looked so unhappy about the truth, but he had no choice.

“It would not be appropriate to have my mistress visiting with my family.” “I am not your mistress.”

“True, but were I to try to explain the distinction to Mama, she would have us married faster than the speed of light. She likes you, Faith, and she wants more grandchildren from her oldest son.”

“And the thought of marriage to me is a complete anathema to you?”

No, it was not, but that was a large part of the problem. “I do not wish to marry anyone.”

“But you would do so.”

“If I was absolutely convinced that was what was best for Giosue.” Only, he would not marry a woman he could love, a woman who could undermine his honor.

Faith nodded and stood.

“Where are you going? We have not even ordered.”

“I’m not hungry, Tino.”

He stood as well. “Then we will leave.”

“No.”

“What do you mean?” Panic made his words come out hard and clipped.

“It’s over. I don’t want to see you anymore.” Tears washed into her peacock-blue eyes.

For a moment they sparkled like grieving sapphires, but she blinked the moisture away along with any semblance of emotion from her face.

He could not believe the words coming out of her mouth, much less the way she seemed to be able to turn off her feelings. It was as if a stranger, not the woman he had been making love to for almost a year, stood across from him. “Because I needed some space and neglected to call you for two weeks?”

“No, though honestly? That would be enough for most women.”

“You are not most women.”

“No, I’ve been a very convenient sexual outlet, but that’s over, Tino. The well is dried up.” A slight hitch in her voice was the only indication she felt anything at all at saying these words.

“What the blazes are you talking about?” The well? What bloody well?

She talked like he’d been using her this past year, but there relationship had been mutual.

“You wanted me just as I wanted you.”

She shrugged. Shrugged, damn it. Just as if this conversation wasn’t of utmost importance.

“Along with agreeing that this thing between us wasn’t some serious emotional connection, we also agreed that if it stopped working for either of us, we were completely free to walk away. No harm. No foul. I’m walking.” Her voice was even and calm, free of her usual passion and any feeling—either positive or negative.

“How can you go from wanting more to wanting nothing?” he asked, dazed by this turn of events.

“You aren’t going to give me more, and nothing is a better option than settling for what we had.”

“There was no settling. You wanted me as much as I wanted you,” he said again, as if repeating it might make her get the concept.

“Things change.”

He cursed loudly, using a word in the Sicilian vernacular rarely heard in polite company. “You promised.” “What did I promise?” “To let me walk away without a big scene.”

Damn it all to hell. He had, but he had never expected her to want to walk away. “What about my mother?” “What about her? She’s my friend.” “And my son?” “He is my student.”

“You do not intend to ditch either of them?”

“No.”

“Only me.” “It’s necessary.” “For who?” “For me.”

“Why?”

“What difference does it make? You won’t give me more and I can’t accept less any longer. The whys don’t matter.”