But if marrying Nico kept him from going after Renzo or D’Angeli Motors, then she had to do it. She would not be responsible for this feud between them growing any worse, nor would she be responsible for bringing harm to her brother and his family.
The sun was warm beneath the pergola, though she was not in direct light. She lay there for a very long time, gazing out at the bright green lawn with red and pink flowerbeds, pencil pines, bay laurels, and even a small grove of olive and lemon trees, until her eyes started to droop.
Tina awoke with a start sometime later, a chill skating over her skin as the sun’s warming caress moved on to another part of the garden. Birds chirped in the trees and she could hear the distant sounds of church bells from the nearest village across the lake.
She’d been dreaming about Nico, as he used to be when he came to their house so many years ago. He’d laughed then. Smiled. He’d always had an edge, but it hadn’t seemed frightening the way it did now.
Now she was utterly convinced he would do whatever it took to get his way. Ruthlessly.
“You scared Giuseppe out of several years of life when he could not find you,” came a cool voice.
Tina gave a little gasp of fright. She turned, found the man she’d been dreaming about sitting in a chair across from her, watching her with an intensity that both warmed and frightened her.
“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “I fell asleep.”
“I see that.”
She pushed herself upright on the cushions and stretched like a cat coming to life after a long nap. “I don’t know what happened. It was warm and cozy, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”
He looked around the sheltered pergola as if seeking the answer somewhere in the leafy green vines. She realized then that they were hidden from the view of anyone in the castle. A person would have to walk across the garden and cross in front of the pergola to see anyone inside it.
No wonder Giuseppe had lost her. She felt a pinprick of guilt as she thought of the little man searching. He’d been nothing but wonderful to her since the moment she’d arrived. He, at least, made her feel like a guest instead of a prisoner.
“It is a lovely spot for a nap,” Nico said. “I believe I might have fallen asleep here once when I was six.”
Her heart flipped as she thought of him as a little boy. Had he frightened his parents when he’d disappeared that day? Or had they known where he’d gone and left him to sleep in this lovely bower?
He seemed distant, his eyes focusing on some faraway point. Then he swung his gaze back to her. It was cool, hard. Determined. “It is time, Tina.”
She swallowed. “Time for what?”
He flicked his fingers against his jeans, as if removing a speck of dirt. “Time to choose.”
Her heart skipped. “Who was the woman on the phone?” she asked, fresh anger surging in her veins.
His eyes darkened. She didn’t think he would answer. But he surprised her.
“My mother. We were arguing.”
Tina ducked her head and studied her clasped hands. So much rage in so few words. She felt as if she’d invaded his privacy somehow, yet she’d had to know the answer. As if it mattered when he compelled her to marry him with threats to her family.
“It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She could feel his gaze still on her, intense, steady, penetrating. “You heard me fight with a woman. You saw me ignore her calls. And I’ve asked you to marry me. You have every right to be curious, under the circumstances.”
“Actually,” she said, her heart thudding as she lifted her gaze and met those storm-cloud eyes, “you didn’t ask me. You told me.”
He was so beautiful sitting across from her, his long legs stretched out in front of him, one arm hooked along the back of the big chair as he sprawled casually in it. He wore dark jeans and a white shirt, unbuttoned to show a perfect V of tanned skin that she could remember kissing—innocently at first, reverently later.
He arched an eyebrow as he studied her. She knew her color was high and wondered what he must be thinking. As if it mattered. As if anything but what he demanded of her mattered.
He ran his fingers along the arm of the chair in an absent gesture. “What is the difference? The outcome will be the same.”
Her temper flared. “A woman wants to be asked, Nico. It’s part of the fantasy.”
“Does this mean you’ve come to your senses?”
Her breath caught, her blood pounding in her temples, her ears. Come to her senses? She felt as though she’d lost them two months ago.
“Promise you won’t harm my family or D’Angeli Motors.” She said it firmly, her heart racing recklessly fast. It wasn’t like her to be so bold, and yet she’d been bolder in the past twenty-four hours with him than she’d ever been in her life. Oh, she was assertive enough usually, having learned to come out of her shell after years of schooling, but not confrontational. She’d been taught to be polite, gracious and ladylike—skills that were somehow lacking when she faced Niccolo Gavretti.
One corner of his mouth turned up. It could not be called a smile. “So long as Renzo leaves me alone, then I will do the same.”
Tina closed her eyes, her entire body quivering with fear and anticipation all at once. Was she really going to do this?
Of course she was. What choice did she have? She wouldn’t let her family suffer. Nico was titled, wealthy and no doubt in possession of far more power now that he’d inherited his father’s estate. Renzo would be no match for him. And she would not let that happen.
“Then you should ask me,” she said. “It would be the proper thing to do.”
She didn’t expect him to do what he did next. He rose from the chair in a graceful movement. And then he was at her side, sinking onto a knee on the gray stone cobbles in front of the couch. His palm came up, cupped her cheek, while his other hand took one of hers and brought it to his heart. It was a grand gesture, even if it was false.
Tina turned her cheek into his palm, though she did not mean to do so. But it was such a tender touch, and she’d ached to feel it for so long. For nearly two months. It stunned her to discover that she’d missed him, missed the aching rightness of his skin against hers.
Oh, she was in so much trouble here.
“Valentina D’Angeli,” he said, his fingers suddenly stroking down, along the column of her neck, making her shiver with longing. “Will you be my wife?”
Tina darted her tongue over her lips. She was insane, insane—insane—for even considering this. But he was right; she had no choice.
It was the correct thing to do. For her family. For her baby.
“Yes,” she whispered, her throat constricting on the word. “Yes.”
TINA closed her eyes as his head descended, anticipating his kiss. Longing for it. It had been so long since she’d felt the hot press of his mouth against hers and she was surprised at how much she wanted it. Oh, it was wrong, but she wanted it.
For all her breathless anticipation, however, he did not kiss her. Or, he did kiss her, but not the way she wanted. His lips feathered along her cheek before he tilted her head down and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.
Disappointment lanced into her as