Page 10 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

She so didn’t need sex complicating things.

He turned to face her, and she was caught in his dark-eyed stare. He was all Mediterranean hotness, and just looking at him did weird things to her insides. This side of his face showed the scar, an angry line that ran from just below his right eye to his upper lip. He’d always had an air of total civilization and control, but the scar gave him a dangerous look, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d lost weight in the last six months.

“Tell me what happened,” she said, raising her hand to his face but dropping it at the last minute.

He shrugged. “I told you I was on a ship—”

“What sort of ship?”

“A cruise ship. It belonged to the D’Ascensio Corporation, and I was in negotiations to sell the line when a storm struck. The ship caught fire, and I was hit by a burning cable.”

A shiver went through her. “You could have been killed.”

He glanced out of the window, then back to her. “At one point I thought we would be trapped, cut off by the flames.”

“We?”

“Just a couple of guys who helped me.” He gave a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “When it seemed I might die, you were the one thing I thought about. Never seeing you again. Never understanding why you left so suddenly.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, Gabrielle. Why the hell did you run? Why not stay and talk to me? Tell me what the fucking problem was.”

She winced. Vito rarely swore. She’d never seen him lose his temper, but now he was like a bomb waiting to blow. Had she done that, or had it been the accident? Maybe a bit of both. The thing was, despite his asking her to marry him, she’d never really believed that her running would bother him long-term. She’d thought he would get over it quickly. Maybe because it hadn’t seemed real to her, she’d kidded herself that his feelings were equally superficial. It made her feel better, lessened the guilt.

“I wasn’t ready.”

“And you couldn’t just come and tell me that? You had to run?”

“I thought you would persuade me to stay and go through with the wedding. I felt like everything was moving too fast, and that you couldn’t really want to marry me. That you didn’t really know me.” She took a deep breath. “That I didn’t really know myself.”

He seemed to latch on to those words, his eyes narrowing on her face, running over her, from her pink-streaked hair to her matching T-shirt and tight jeans. “Is that what this whole change of…image is about?”

She couldn’t have asked for a better response. But part of her hated herself, because she was still lying. She nodded quickly. “I just needed to try something different. To find myself.” She almost winced again as she said the trite words, she sounded like a complete cliché.

The car was slowing, and she glanced out of the window. They were pulling up in front of the theater. She looked back at Vito and frustration flashed across his face.

“On the lifeboat, after the ship went down, I made a vow that I would come and find you, discover why you had run. Prove to you that I do love you.”

Oh God, he was killing her here. Guilt ate up her insides. She had no clue what to say to him. “Look, I have to go. I’m late.” He continued to stare. “I need this job.”

He studied her for a moment longer, and then shook his head. “Go then. But you owe me more of an explanation than you needed to find yourself.” He exhaled loudly. “I’m staying at the Savoy. Come and see me tomorrow morning and we can talk.”

She nodded, just needing out of there.

“And Gabrielle…if you run again, I will find you.”

Was that a threat? And if so of what? Another sign of the change in him—the old Vito would never have threatened her. Had she done this?

“I’ll be there.”

At least it would give her time to polish her story. She scrambled out of the car, slammed the door behind her, and watched as it pulled out into the traffic, unable to see Vito through the tinted windows but still conscious of the fact that he was staring after her.

All she had to do was convince him that he hadn’t really loved her. Should be easy—she’d never considered herself as particularly loveable, anyway.

She’d just give him a quick overview of the real her.

He’d probably turn tail and run.

Chapter Four

Vito hadn’t slept well, and he woke late.

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