Page 50 of Redemption of the Untamed Italian

‘This is the man you think you love. This is what I’m capable of.’

She lifted her fingers to her lips, shaking her head. ‘But why?’

‘Because I couldn’t risk that you wouldn’t agree. Not because I love you, but because I wanted you, and I succeed at all costs, always.’

She ignored his admission and the wounds it inflicted. ‘I mean, why did you buy such a huge share of the hedge fund? I know it wasn’t altruism. And if it wasn’t for me, then what was it?’

He shifted his eyes above her head for a moment then pinned her with a steely glance. ‘Your cousin is sitting on a gold mine and he doesn’t yet realise it. The five hundred million pounds I spent will be worth a billion by the end of the year, easily.’

Her knees felt weak. ‘What?’ It was hoarse. Soft. So soft it was almost inaudible, but he heard because he replied.

‘When it comes to business, if not people, I do my research. I knew what he had that night in the restaurant. You were always just a silver lining to that deal. I don’t let business and pleasure get mixed up.’

She closed her eyes, wanting to blot out the world, but he was relentless.

‘See? You do not

love me, right? How could you?’

Her heart splintered for him because she saw the truth so clearly now—the little boy who’d grown into a man who believed all he had to offer was money. Who believed that maybe his mother would have loved him more if she could have seen the wealth he’d amassed. A man who ended things with women before they could walk out on him.

‘In spite of this, I love you. In spite of the fact I am hurt, and feel betrayed and used and cheap, I still love you.’ She bit down on her lip, the truth of her words etching into her. Saying it was so liberating, so freeing.

‘And yet you knew I would never love you back.’

‘No,’ she whispered, her eyes haunted.

‘Yes. I have told you exactly what kind of man I am, what I’m capable of, and you ignored that.’

‘You’re wrong. I know what you’ve said about yourself, but I see you as you really are. I see someone you don’t even know is there.’ She lifted her chin defiantly, her body tense with pride even when her heart was in shreds.

But he shook his head, denying that. ‘You only think you do.’

‘Cesare...’ She sighed softly. ‘You’ve spent a lifetime trying to outrun your roots. You think that if you work harder, make more money, fill your bank account, your asset list or whatever, that you’ll finally feel okay? That you’ll feel whole?’

She stared him down and saw the shift in his expression, the hardening in his eyes, and she knew he wasn’t going to listen to her, that no matter what she said he was determined to stay the course.

‘Why did you get your tattoo?’ she pushed. ‘Come sono—“as I am”.’ His surprise was obvious. ‘You are as you are and I love you as you are.’ She waved a hand around the magnificent beach house. ‘None of this matters to me. There’s an inherent value in you, just you, and I see it even if you don’t.’

A muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘You’re wrong about me.’

‘No, I’m not. You’re a good man—’

‘I mean you’re wrong to think I’m broken in some way, or that I don’t feel whole. I live my life the way I choose. I do what I want.’

‘And that’s not me.’

He swept his eyes shut.

‘I don’t mean for a month,’ she added quickly. ‘I mean for ever.’

He fixed her with a cool gaze, as though this were easy for him. ‘No, Jemima. I could lie to you right now and pretend, just to get more time with you, but I won’t do that. This is what I’m offering—the decision is yours.’

She nodded, anguish making her face pale.

‘It’s not a decision,’ she whispered. ‘I have to go. I can’t stay.’

Neither of them moved or spoke for several seconds, and then she said again more urgently, because she felt as though she were suffocating, ‘I have to go, Cesare, please.’

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