Ushering her out into the hallway, Vieri turned and strode back into the office, slamming the door behind him.
One thing was for sure: if he had any say in it, they would never, ever, meet again.
* * *
Harper heard the slam of the door before she turned the stairs and saw Donatella Sorrentino standing outside the office. She stopped, her hand gripping the banister, a cold fear creeping up her spine. There was something about this woman and her relationship with Vieri that felt bad, dangerous. Harper had never forgotten the way Vieri had reacted when she had told him about Donatella choosing her dress. It had been extreme, violent even. And now this, the door slamming, the high colour of Donatella’s cheeks as she headed for the front door, proof positive that emotions between her and Vieri were running high. Harper didn’t know what those emotions were but she did know that they were deeply felt and still very much alive. Which logically only led her to the conclusion she had already suspected. At some point in time, Vieri and Donatella had been lovers. And they possibly still were.
Pushing that hideously painful thought to the back of her mind, she watched as Donatella reached the front door, desperate for the woman to be gone. But at the last minute Donatella turned, fixing Harper with an icy stare, and for a moment their eyes locked.
‘Good luck.’ Donatella broke the heavy silence with a caw of sarcasm. ‘You are going to need it.’ Then with a cruel laugh she turned and swept through the front door.
Harper sucked in a breath. She refused to be intimidated by her, refused to even think about who this woman was, what part she played in Vieri’s life. Not today, not on the day of Alfonso’s death.
Moving to stand outside the office, she was trying to pull her composure into place when the door flew open and she was suddenly confronted with Vieri’s towering figure. And judging by the murderous look in his eye, a towering mood to match.
Harper’s heart lurched with love and compassion and a myriad other emotions that she couldn’t begin to process right now.
‘Hi.’ She sounded ridiculously chirpy. ‘I was just coming to tell you that I’ve done as you asked. All the visitors have left or are leaving. They asked me to pass on their condolences, and Jaco said to tell you he will be in touch later today.’
‘Fine, whatever.’ With a shrug, Vieri looked over her shoulder, scanning the empty hallway.
‘If you are looking for Donatella, she has just left.’ Harper fought to keep the bitterness, any sign that she cared, out of her voice.
‘But you are still here.’ The dark blue eyes swung back in her direction, coldly focussing on her face.
‘Well, yes, of course.’
‘There’s no of course about it. I want you to leave too.’
‘Me?’ Harper stared at him in astonishment.
‘Yes, you.’ He squared his shoulders, determination setting in. ‘I want you to go. I don’t want anybody here.’
‘But I’m not “anybody”, Vieri.’ Harper gasped. ‘I’m your...’ She hesitated, the word wife refusing to come. Despite what had happened last night she was not his wife, not in the true sense of the word. And she never would be. ‘I loved Alfonso, you know I did.’
‘You barely knew him.’
‘Not like you, no, but that doesn’t mean I’m not deeply saddened by his death, that I’m not grieving too.’
‘Well, you can go and grieve somewhere else.’
‘Vieri!’ Horror stiffened her spine. That he could be so hurtful, so cruel, cut her to the quick. But he was in shock. Dragging in a stuttering breath, she forced herself to calm down. ‘Look, you’re upset. I’m sure you don’t mean that.’
‘I can assure you, I do.’
She stared back at him, the glimpse of his vulnerability beneath his granite façade the only thing keeping her strong. ‘Let’s not discuss this now. We can talk things over later.’
‘There is nothing to talk about, Harper.’
‘Don’t do this, Vieri. Don’t push me away. I want to be here for you, to be able to support you.’
‘The way you support everybody else, I suppose?’
Harper flinched at the bite of his words. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that I don’t need your support, Harper. More than that, I don’t want it. You don’t need to fix me, the way you seem to have to fix everyone else in your life.’
‘That’s not fair, Vieri.’
‘No? Well, that’s the way it looks to me. It strikes me that you are so busy solving everyone else’s problems that you have never stopped to take a long hard look at your own. Not content with saving your sister’s life, it seems you have to carry on running it for her. And the same with your father, trying to control everything he does.’ He paused, his eyes glittering like flint. ‘Perhaps if you spent a bit less time meddling in other people’s lives and a bit more concentrating on your own you wouldn’t still be a virgin at the age of twenty-five.’
Harper gasped, her eyes widening in horror. It took a second or two for his vicious words to permeate, for it to sink in that he had really said them. But when it did her knees started to tremble beneath her and she had to reach for the wall to support herself. The blood drained from her face, taking her breath along with it, so that she had to fight to remain upright. She swallowed, made herself breathe, then swallowed again.
She could feel his eyes on her but she would not look at him. There were a thousand things she wanted to say but none of them would come. And none of them mattered, anyway. All the words in the world wouldn’t have made any difference. With his short, brutal analysis Vieri had made it quite clear what he thought of her. He had shown just what a sad, pathetic creature he considered her to be. And maybe he was right. Maybe she had spent all her life looking out for other people because she had no life of her own. Maybe to still be a virgin at the age of twenty-five was pathetic. Pitiful. And if that wasn’t, finally giving her virginity away to a man such as Vieri Romano certainly was.
But worse than that, far far worse, was the fact that her virginity wasn’t the only thing she had given him. She had given him her heart. And for that she would never forgive herself.
Moving away, she headed blindly for the stairs, tightly gripping hold of the banister to help in her ascent, all too aware of Vieri’s cold, cruel eyes trained on her every step. She forced her shoulders back and straightened her spine, determined at least to hang onto her last modicum of pride while she still had it. Because right now, it felt as if that was all she had left.
VIERI WATCHED AS Harper climbed the stairs, her chin up, her head held high. But he could see just how much effort it was costing her, just how much his spiteful words had hurt her. He cursed violently under his breath, only just stopping himself from screaming out loud. Why the hell had he done that? Taunting her about her virginity, of all things. Why had he taken out his fury and hatred for Donatella on Harper? It was unforgivable.
But deep down he knew why. Guilt.
Much as he hated to admit it, Donatella had been right when she had called him manipulative and underhand. That was the man he had become. Hadn’t he demonstrated both of those qualities in the way he had treated Harper, using her purely for his own gain? His own pleasure. She had been right too, when she’d said he had learnt from her, but not in the way she’d meant. His poisoned relationship with Donatella had taught him never to trust anyone, never to get close to anyone. Never to give his heart away again. Something he had to guard against now, in a way he never