Page 49 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
He sank to his knees before her and took her hands in his. They were as lifeless as her colouring. He gazed into her deadened eyes. “What’s wrong, my angel?”
If her eyes hadn’t locked onto his, he could have easily believed she’d fallen into some kind of trance. She held the lock without any form of expression and for such a long time that fear began to grip like a vice in his chest. “Marisa?”
She blinked. It was such a deliberate blink that he wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d heard her lids click together. “Rico…” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “Why does your brother call me The Unicorn?”
It was the pulse of shock in Rico’s eyes that plunged the heart-tipped knife in one sharp, agonising push.
Marisa had never seen him lost for words before. Never seen him anything but fully self-possessed.
The knife twisted.
“One of them…” It was hard to speak. “Tommaso, I think, sent you messages.” Remembering the mocking look she’d seen in Tommaso’s eyes, she slipped her hands from Rico’s hold. His phone was by her side. She handed it to him.
His jaw was tight as he took it from her, hisstare flicking from the phone to her as he unlocked it and read the messages. He closed his eyes.
“Am I…” She had to swallow to continue. “Is this… You and me… Is it all some kind of joke?”
He rubbed his hand over his mouth and leaned his head back to breathe deeply. When he finally looked at her, the piercing blue eyes were swimming in anguish. “I’m so sorry.”
The twisting knife withdrew and thrust back deeper, so deep a whimper of pain stuck in her throat.
His face contorted, and in an instant her face was in his hands. “No, Marisa, please, don’t cry. However this started, I love you, okay? I love you.”
“Tell me,” she choked out, barely able to see, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “Tell me everything. Was any of it real?”
“My feelings for you are real, that’s the important thing. Hold onto that, angel. I love you.”
“Tellme,” she wailed. “Start with why he calls me The Unicorn. What does that even mean?”
He pressed his forehead to hers and tightened his grip on her face. “May God forgive me, it’s because your virginity makes you rarer than a unicorn.”
Now she could hardly breathe, never mind speak. “Youtoldhim?”
“He already knew. So did Mattia.” He kissed her forehead and released her face to wrap his arms around her and hold her to him. Perversely, the solid warmth of his skin and the Rico scent of warm oranges acted as a comfort, and when he moved onto the bed to sit beside her, she let him manipulate her pain-riddled body so she was cradled on his lap, her face buried in his neck.
“Between us, we knew everything about every guest at my sister’s engagement party,” Rico explained quietly. “I wanted you the moment I saw you…” He sucked in a breath then pressed his mouth tightly into the top of her head. He was teetering on the edge of an abyss. Marisa needed the truth. Deserved the truth. But it was a truth that was going to hurt her so badly he could already feel the pain he was about to inflict on her.
“I was going to tell you everything once we were married.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and prayed with every fibre of his being that it wouldn’t be for the last time. “When I started on this with you, I didn’t know – couldn’t know – that I’d fall in love with you for real.” He sucked in another long breath and then Rico made his confession. He left nothing out. Didn’t try to spin any of it in a positive light. His confession was true and unvarnished, and with every word he spoke, he could feel the essence of Marisa leave her body until it felt like he was holding a ragdoll in his arms.
“Please,” he whispered once the silence that followed his confession became more than he could bear. “Say something.”
But the sound she made wasn’t words. It was a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life; a muffled howl that rose from her soul, and then she was crying, sobbing so hard tremors strong enough for him to feel them in the blackness of his soul wracked her slender frame.
She clung to him, her tears drenching his neck and rolling onto his chest, and all he could do was hold her tightly and whisper over and over that he was sorry and that he loved her, and pray for her to believe him and forgive him.
Time slipped away as they clung together. Rico had a distant awareness of his phone buzzing and ringing multiple times, but it was background noise. All he could see, feel and hear with any clarity was Marisa and the desperate misery he’d inflicted on her.
After forever had passed, her sobs lessened into nothing, and she slowly disentangled herself from his arms and staggered off him with a mumbled, “I need to use thebathroom.”
She locked the door behind her.
Ignoring another ringing of his phone, Rico held his head in his hands and prayed harder than he’d ever prayed before for her forgiveness.
The bathroom door opened. She stepped out of it, holding herself tightly. Her face was blotchy, her eyes red and puffy. It was a sight that destroyed him.
He’d done this to her. He’d taken the heavenliest creature to walk this earth and broken her. “I’m –”
She held out a hand and gave a short shake of her head to stop him speaking. “I’ve heard enough,” she whispered before unsteadily crouching down to lift her beach bag onto her shoulder.
