The Italian's Final Redemption - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,60

mother hadn’t just wanted a life for her, she’d wanted her to be happy. And that was the best monument, wasn’t it? Happiness? Not just for her, but for him too, because they’d both been through terrible things and they deserved it.

They deserved to have a future. And it would be love that would give them that future.

She met Vincenzo’s hard, midnight gaze. ‘No,’ she said.

He ignored her. ‘Pack your things. You’ll be leaving in an hour.’

‘No,’ she repeated.

Vincenzo’s expression became even harder than it already was. ‘No? What do you mean, no?’

Lucy looked him in the eye. ‘I mean no. I’m not leaving. I want to stay.’

The expression on his face darkened. ‘This was what you wanted, Lucy. A new life. That’s what you promised your mother.’

‘Well, that’s not what I want now.’ And she didn’t hesitate. She gave him the truth, because that was always what she gave him. ‘What I want is you.’

A muscle flicked in his jaw, tension gathering around him like a storm gathering electricity. ‘Civetta...’

‘I want the moments I’d planned. I want another day. I want more than that. I want a future, Vincenzo. I want a future with you.’

The tension around him became even more electric, a subtle vibration in the air. ‘No.’ The word left no room for argument. ‘You will go and you will go now.’

‘Why not?’ She took a step towards him, holding his black gaze. ‘Don’t you want a future too?’

‘No.’ Something broke in him, the stillness shattering.

He threw the passport onto the bed suddenly, then he closed the distance between them in an explosive movement, reaching for her, his fingers closing around her upper arms and holding her in a grip that bordered on painful. It might have frightened her once, but there was nothing about him that frightened her now, and certainly not with the emotion blazing in his dark eyes, a black fire that nearly swallowed her whole.

‘Yes,’ he said roughly. ‘Yes, I want that. I want a future. I want for ever with you, civetta. But if I take even one day I will never let you go. Do you understand now?’

Her heart was full, emotion flooding out of her, and she didn’t hide it. She let him see what was in her soul.

‘Then don’t.’ She leaned into his strong grip and his heat. Leaning into him. ‘Don’t let me go.’

For a second the fire in his eyes blazed so hot it nearly burned her to the ground, the grip he had on her searing her. But that was okay. She wanted to burn. She wanted to burn with him.

But then, as abruptly as he’d grabbed her, he let her go and stepped away, leaving her swaying, leaning into a warmth that was no longer there. The fire in his eyes had gone, the blaze doused. He was cold again, expressionless. Emotionless.

‘You say that,’ he said, casual. ‘But you don’t understand what your life would be like with me. People want to kill me every day. I’m a target and so you’ll be a target too. You won’t be able to go anywhere without a security detail or without planning your every movement. Your life will be curtailed. The only place you’ll ever have any freedom is here in the villa, with me.’

‘So?’ She smiled, wanting him to understand. ‘None of that matters, Vincenzo. Don’t you see?’

His eyes were black stars, glittering cold and sharp. ‘No, I don’t see. And you may not think it matters, but it matters to me. I don’t want you to be a prisoner with me on this island. I don’t want you to have a life limited by safety concerns and security. You should be free to explore the things that interest you, that excite you. And, more than anything, you should be safe. And I can’t give you that. I can never give you that.’

A crack ran slowly through her heart, sharp and jagged. Because it was obvious that he didn’t understand. And why would he? He’d been betrayed by someone who loved him, the person who’d mattered most. No one had protected him the way her mother had protected her. She might have lost her mum, but she’d known that Kathy had loved her. Had he had anyone who’d cared about him?

He was so hard, so cold. So shut down. All the passion she knew lived in him locked away... No, he hadn’t.

‘Vincenzo—’

‘I don’t want to hear it. That is my decision, whether you like it or