CHAPTER TEN

 

 

The midnight chimes continued on, and I did the only thing I could do.

I ran.

Out of the ballroom, down the hall, running in five-inch stilettos not designed for anything of the sort.

I didn’t care. I needed to be away. Far, far away, if I could manage it.

I only got as far as the terrace, but that was far enough. I went to the furthest corner from the rest of the house and gripped the railing tightly, my breath hitching with every inhale and wheezing on the exhale.

Tears splashed onto my perfectly manicured hands, but I didn’t care.

I didn’t care about anything anymore.

I lowered my head and let loose with a growling sob that was ripped from my chest, swaying towards the railing.

Whatever heart I’d built up over the last few days was dissolving at an alarming rate, shrinking into absolute nothingness, and the pain of it all was excruciating. It twisted into a knotted mass within me, wringing painful sob after painful sob from my now burning chest. I grabbed at the choker I’d worn and wrenched it away from my neck, sending it flying into the rocks and grass beyond, though my throat still felt constricted once it was gone.

I couldn’t believe it. If I hadn’t been there, seen and felt it all, I wouldn’t have believed it. How could a man who had spent nearly every waking moment with me over the last week, sweeping me off my feet and kissing me into oblivion, finding me perfect places to paint and sketch, and being overprotective in the face of gorgeous Italians, throw me over at the last minute? How could everything I had experienced this week be a complete and absolute lie?

Had he been laughing with his friends over this? Thawing the ice queen and making her fall at his feet?

What a good joke, what a great party…

There wasn’t anything else for me to do except leave. Leave now, leave quickly, leave before any of the ignorant, amorous people within the house discovered that I had been abandoned.

Nobody wanted Lady Claire Sutherland.

It would surprise no one.

I shouldn’t have been surprised myself.

But I had hoped, and I had wanted, and I had forgotten that I never did get anything I wanted. Why should that change now?

I had learned how to feel, and I never wanted to do it again.

I sank onto a bench and put my head into my hands, wishing the anger I felt would turn into a firm resolve to hate. So far, it only made me cry harder, feel worse, and take away whatever strength I had left.

“Claire.”

I hiccupped on a sob and turned at the sound.

There he was. Dressed in a tux, though his tie was undone, but otherwise he was perfection. Delicious, tempting, maddening perfection.

And I hated him.

He paused at my tears, his face becoming one of concern and horror. “Claire, what happened?”

I coughed a startled laugh. “What happened?” I cried, my voice cracking. “What HAPPENED?”

He took a few steps closer. “Fatina…”

“Don’t!” I barked, tears flowing down my cheeks and choking my words. “Don’t call me that. Don’t say anything in Italian. Don’t do anything to make me hate you any less than I do right now.”

His eyes widened. “Hate?”

“You left me!” I bellowed, shooting to my feet. “You knew I would be waiting, and you left me. I was in there all alone, with no one who even cared if I was happy or sad, let alone having a good time. Have you been playing with me all this time, Salvatore? Has that been your plan all along? To make me like you, and then to break my heart?”

“No!” he insisted in a hoarse voice, staggering towards me. “No, not at all, Claire.”

“Did you know?” The words came out as a whimper, and I clamped a hand to my throbbing heart. “Did you know that I would be waiting in that ballroom by myself? And when midnight struck, I would be the only one alone?”

“Claire…”

I sniffed back another wash of tears, wishing my name didn’t sound so tormented from him. It made me ache more than I already did, and I didn’t want to hurt anymore. “I tore down all of my walls for you. Everything I’ve never let anyone else see, I let you see. There were no defenses left. And you… And you… You threw it all back into my face. You left me here alone. Wishing and hoping, praying that I hadn’t trusted you for nothing. Do you know how betrayed I felt? How abandoned? I didn’t even know I had a heart until I felt it break.”

Salvatore came closer, but still out of reach. “Please, Claire, let me explain… It isn’t what you think. I treasure everything that we have shared, everything you have shared with me. I’ve felt the same. You know more about me than anyone on this earth, and I am glad you do.”

I exhaled a half of sob, wanting to believe him, but not sure if I could.

He nodded earnestly, seeming somehow hopeful that I hadn’t stopped him. “Tonight I told you I had business to take care of. I meant that.” He smiled just a little. “I am starting that foundation you told me to. The one encouraging children to be active and engaged, spending more time out of doors, things of that sort. I’ve been on the phone for hours with advisors and investors, putting all of the pieces together to get this innovation off the ground. I’ll finally have a purpose, Claire. A cause. Something to motivate me.”

Of all things he could have been doing, it had to be something I was immensely proud of. I found myself smiling in spite of my still breaking heart. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

His eyes were warm and tender, as was his smile, and he shook his head. “You inspired me to do that, Claire. I could never have done it without you.”

“You don’t know that,” I insisted, swiping at my eyes.

“I do know that. I do. And while I was dealing with those calls, I made another set. To the Monterran Arts Foundation.”

My tears suddenly stopped and I stared at him wide-eyed, barely breathing.

He nodded slowly. “I explained to the board that there needed to be a strong voice speaking for the arts around the world, someone who truly understood the beauty, majesty, and history of art, someone who could ensure that only the best were on display and that the best care was being given to the artifacts and pieces. I explained to them that there was a need for a rejuvenation of the arts in our country for the good of the people, and that I had the perfect person to take on the task and set things right.”

“Who?” I whispered.

“You.”

I stumbled a half-step to my left, my hand now clutching at my chest. “What?”

He smiled almost brightly. “They had an emergency board meeting and called for a vote. You have been unanimously sustained as the chairman for the Restoration of Monterran Arts and Artifacts committee until a new board position opens up once we restructure things, at which time you will be placed on it.”

“How could you…?” I stammered, suddenly nervous once more. “How did you…?”

“I told you I wanted this for you,” he murmured, coming closer still. “I told you that you would be perfect. I’m the Duca di Brista, which carries a lot of authority. This position is yours if you want it.”

I swallowed hard. “What about the royal family?”

One corner of his mouth lifted into a wry smile. “I also had a very long conversation with Nico. He is not going to stand in the way, and is willing to give you a chance. Again, if you want it. The choice is yours, Claire.” He smiled hesitantly. “How is that for an excuse?”

I managed a watery laugh, though my arms and legs were suddenly shaking. “Pretty good, as far as excuses go. But… Salvatore, you weren’t here! The farewell kiss at midnight… I was standing there alone in the ballroom with no one. And I didn’t want to kiss just anyone, I wanted…” I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t finish, so I just looked at him, pleading with him to understand.

He shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But I’m also glad for it.”

“Glad?” I cried, flinging my hands out. “How could you be glad for that? I thought… I thought…”

He reached up and cupped my face in both his hands. “I’m glad because I don’t want to give you a goodbye kiss, Claire, unless I know I get hello again. My first kiss with you told me that I wanted my last kiss to be with you. And that terrified me, but you know what? It excited me. It still excites me. This entire week I have been counting the minutes, the seconds, until I could be with you again. Hold you again. Kiss you, if you wouldn’t slap me.”

“I did apologize for that…” I reminded him weakly, my fingers finding their way to his jacket.

“And when I did kiss you again…”

“When?” I interjected sharply. “You never thought ‘if’?”

Salvatore shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “Not even once. I knew I would kiss you again. And when I did, it would tell you the same thing your kiss told me.”

I could barely breathe, let alone speak. But I had to. “And that is?”

He touched his nose to mine gently. “I am yours, Lady Claire Sutherland. Utterly and completely.”

“But you did kiss me again,” I whispered. “Several times.”

He nodded against me, the movement more of a nuzzle. “And did you know?”

Did I know? Could I have known? “I… hoped.”

That didn’t seem to deter him. “I’ll take it. With more practice, perhaps you’ll know better.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head, my chest no longer aching in quite the same way, my eyes burning with new tears. “I know now. That’s enough.”

“So you don’t want me to kiss you?” he asked, dipping his voice lower and sending a thrill up my spine.

“Oh, you had better kiss me,” I informed him staunchly. “And it needs to be an apology for the embarrassment I endured.”

“I shall do my best.” He pressed his lips to mine with all of the passion he’d ever kissed me with, all of the energy he had ever teased me with, and all of the intensity his Italian phrases had ever borne. Over and over again he kissed me, until my heart was no longer broken, but whole and soaring, screaming into the night sky with a feverish sort of whirl, and it was all I could do to hold onto him and beg my lips to keep up.

His lips moved to my jaw, his hands roaming along my back. “You look incredible, fatina,” he murmured. “Everything from my every dream and more. Bellissima.”

I gasped at the sensation his words had on me, and my lips burned again with the need for his, and the need to say what I’d meant to all along. “Now I think I need to tell you something.”

He stilled and pulled back. “Tell me what?” he asked, obviously wary.

I cleared my throat, then exhaled a short breath, looking him squarely in the eye. “Sono pazzamente inamorata di te.”

Salvatore gaped, his eyes wide, his breathing suddenly unsteady. “Fatina… Bella Claire, amore mio…” He bent to kiss me again.

“Let me finish!” I laughed, putting a hand to his chest. “Ti amo tantissimo. Voglio stare sempre con te. Oh, hang it, I can’t finish in Italian, I’m too frazzled.”

He cupped my face again, grinning so broadly I thought his cheeks would break. “English will be just as musical to my ears, Tesoro.”

I began to cry again, a few tears trickling slowly onto his hands. “I just had to tell you that I’m in love with you. Quite madly. That’s why I was crying out here tonight. I loved you, and I wanted nothing more than to tell you, but only after we kissed, so I could know if you felt it, and hide it if you did not. And I wanted to tell you in your own language. And you’re right, it does feel better to say it.”

His hold tightened. “Oh, bella…”

“I love you, Salvatore. And I needed to tell you.”

He gave me a quick but almost brutal kiss. “I love you, too, Claire. Mio caro amore.”

I smirked at him. “I know that one.”

That made him laugh. “And you’ll know more and more as we go on. I’ll teach you. I am a very good teacher.”

“Does the teacher give rewards for good behavior?” I asked, leaning back in his hold.

His hands moved to my waist, pulling me in closer. “Oh yes, fatina. And even some for bad.”

“I think I like this teacher,” I mused slyly. “Could we give him a trial run?”

He quirked a grin, then sobered appropriately. “Si. Come si dice ‘beautiful’ in Italiano?”

“Bella,” I replied. “Or in your case, bello.”

“Si, cara mia. Molto bene. Come si dice ‘love’?”

I reached up to run my fingers through his hair. “Amore.”

He leaned into my touch, almost groaning. “Come si dice ‘forever’?”

I pouted a little. “I don’t know that one…”

Salvatore smiled and turned his head to kiss my wrist. “I thought not. Let me teach you: forever. Per sempre.”

I nodded slowly, then gave my love a smile that would echo my words. “Il mio bello amore per sempre.”

His throat worked twice before he could reply. “Bene. Molto, molto bene. You deserve a reward.” His eyes turned a shade darker, and a distinctly wicked smile appeared on his perfect lips. “But first…”

And then he kissed me; the sort of kiss every girl wishes for, the kind that melts bones and weakens knees, the kind that puts stars in the sky and fire in your heart…

The kind of kiss that means absolutely everything.

And I kissed him back in exactly the same way.

And that, too, was molto, molto bene.