It was over. He owned the inn now.
But he felt no victory. Not yet.
He controlled what she wanted most. The inn. The question was what would she agree to do to gain back the title.
SHE shouldn’t have left Monte Carlo with Stefano. She should’ve taken the train back home.
Home.
She didn’t have a home any longer, just a flat in Viareggio. She’d let her nonna down in the worst possible way.
What would happen next?
Gemma had to ask Stefano about his plans for the inn. For if he intended to sell it, there was the slim chance she could still secure a loan from the bank.
It was a slim thread to hang onto as she sat beside him in the helicopter, the lights of the casino fading as they flew out over the Ligurian Sea that lay black and fathomless at night. If only that emotionally draining scene with Emilio in the poker room would diminish as well.
But it didn’t. It remained clear and garish.
She’d failed to help her brother. In fact she didn’t know how to reach him anymore. She didn’t know if she had the heart to try, and that only heaped more guilt on her already tired shoulders.
Emilio knew exactly what she’d done to get the money to refurbish the inn, yet he twisted the truth into something ugly. He insinuated that she had been Cesare’s mistress and that she was now Stefano’s lover.
She hadn’t even had the heart to deny it for what good would it have done? Stefano hadn’t said anything in his defense, either, just stared at her with those dark, smoldering eyes like he had right before he’d kissed her.
Mio Dio, even hours later she could still taste him on her tongue. Still feel the steely strength in the arms that had held her close. Still remember the evidence of his desire against her belly.
Oh, yes, they had given the gossips plenty of fodder to feed on this night. She just hoped news of it wouldn’t reach Cesare soon.
The day for his open-heart surgery had arrived. The last thing he needed was the stress caused by these vicious lies.
Stress.
Her life was a total disaster now. She’d never felt this adrift. This separated from everything she’d known and loved and trusted.
She wanted to know what Stefano’s plans were for the inn. But even with the headphones, the roar of the blades dissuaded conversation.
So she held her thoughts and fears to herself and settled in for the long ride back to Viareggio. That thought had barely crossed her mind when she spotted the lights of a big ship dead ahead. The helicopter circled it once and then began descending.
Her mind ran away with dire reasons why Stefano would set down in the middle of the sea. And wasn’t this dangerous to attempt at night?
Never mind he was landing on a small cruise ship. He was doing so nearly blind at night.
Before she could work herself into a full-blown panic, he’d landed the helicopter. Her heart stopped its frantic pounding so she could hear him speaking to someone over his radio.
She immediately thought of Cesare. “Is something wrong?” she asked before they both removed their headphones.
“It is late and I didn’t wish to fly back to Viareggio tonight when my yacht was so close by.”
She stared out on the deck of the large ship. “This huge boat is yours?”
He slid her a devilish grin that had her seeing him as a desirable man instead of the man who’d just gained control of all she held dear. A very handsome man with an odd glint in his eyes that roused her suspicions.
If he thought she’d tumble into bed with him now, he was sorely mistaken. There had to be plenty of rooms on board. Hopefully there was one far from his domain.
“This is the starship of my new fleet,” he said with pride ringing clear in his tone. “I can work from here as easily as I can on land.”
“Have you done that often?” she said in an attempt to make idle conversation.
“Many times of late. Come.”
He stepped from the helicopter and rounded it to assist her down. An odd thing to do since there were plenty of men who had jumped to attend to the helicopter and its billionaire pilot.
A refreshing breeze greeted her as she crossed the deck with her hand tightly clasped in Stefano’s. Possessive. Sensual.
The last sensation thrummed her nerves in an erotic melody she couldn’t deny. She didn’t want to feel anything toward him but animosity.
Though she was helpless to stop the swift stab of desire, hell would surely freeze over before she acted upon it. With that thought in mind, she was able to draw a decent breath as he led her belowdecks.
If Gemma didn’t know better, she’d swear she’d just entered a sunken palace. Marble floors and pillars, plush Brussels carpets that her feet sank into, crystal light fixtures that caught the light and reflected it back in a rich rainbow of color.
Servants rushed to attend to Stefano’s needs but he waved them off. “I need nothing more tonight,” he said as he tugged Gemma down a hall and into a large suite.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said as she took in the massive stateroom.
The lighting was subdued. The furnishing modern yet masculinely opulent.
“This is the salon where we meet clients.” He crossed to a bar. “May I get you something?”
This was one of those occasions when she needed alcohol.
“Chianti, please.”
Stefano obliged and handed her a glass. “I imagine you are close to exhaustion.”
“It’s been an extremely taxing day.”
He nodded agreement. “But there is one more bit of business I wish to discuss now.”
The inn. She was sure of it.
He had her where he could punish and torment her and they both knew it. It was a matter of how much blood he wanted from her for not confiding in her personal affairs.
She drank her wine too fast and felt a wave of dizziness engulf her. “Very well,” she said in her most businesslike tone. “What is it that is so urgent?”
“I gather the inn means a great deal to you.”
“More than it could possibly mean to you. I want the opportunity to buy it back,” she said, her chin lifting for the argument she was sure would come.
“Fine,” he said so quickly she nearly reeled. “I have no wish to delve into the hotel business at any level.”
“Then why did you buy Emilio’s shares?” she asked.
He poured an equal amount of wine in his glass and took a sip. “Because I didn’t want a third party to have any say over my plans for the inn.”
His answer left her more confused than before. “You just said you had no wish to manage an inn.”
“I don’t. But I didn’t want to divide the shares, either.”
A fact she appreciated even though it forced her to appeal to him solely now. “Then do you agree to sell the inn to me?”
His firm lips curved into that wicked smile again. “Selling is a lengthy process I’d prefer avoiding.”
“I