A Deal To Carry The Italian's Heir / Christmas Contract For His Cinderella. Jane Porter

It’s not that,” she said, stepping back from him, trying to hide her face in the shadows.

      Leo was in no mood to be fobbed off.

      One hand on her shoulder, he gently tugged her toward him until the overhead lights illuminated her face. He clasped her chin. Her eyes were puffed, her nose slightly red at the top.

      Dio, the woman gave new definition to self-sufficiency. Usually he was the one who maintained those boundaries in a relationship religiously.

      “Keeping the lines between us separate is one thing. But this isn’t just about you anymore, even before a child comes into the picture. I dragged you into this battle against him, after you told me it’s been near impossible to decouple yourself from him.

      “So tell me what happened. The last thing I think right now is that you’re weak. Infuriatingly stubborn, however, comes to mind.”

      She bent her forehead to his shoulder, her body shuddering with shallow breaths. Running his palms over her bare arms up and down, he waited. In the damp air, the faint vanilla scent she used mingled with her skin to create a musky fragrance that filled his nostrils. Her warm breath coated his neck. He gritted his teeth, willing his body to not betray him.

      “You’re right. I’ve got to talk about this.”

      When she pulled back, she looked composed, strong again. And he realized how similar they were.

      “Mario didn’t get to me,” she said, her long lashes looking thicker with wetness. “I saw his ugly scowl the moment they arrived and stayed well out of his way. The last thing I wanted was to make a spectacle at Greta’s celebration. Even when I saw your exchange with him, I ignored it. But Mario is nothing if not clever.”

      Leo knew what she was made of, and he knew that the ache in her eyes had its origin a long time ago. He waited patiently, understanding in a way no one could how hard it was to show vulnerability when you spent most of your life making sure there wasn’t any.

      It only made him respect her more.

      “But he got to her.”

      “Your mum?”

      “Yep.” A smile that was nothing but a caricature of the usual loveliness twisted her mouth. She ran a hand through her hair, a violent physical energy vibrating from her frame. “Frankly, I’m a fool to be surprised by this. I know the kind of hold he has on her. I know how his mind works. But she...” She swallowed, and then looked up at him. “After a long time, today I realized how nice it is to have someone in your corner. I know it was all for show but still it felt good to belong with people who like and respect me, with whom I don’t have to walk on eggshells.

      “And bam! She ruined everything.”

      Leo wanted to tell her that it hadn’t been for show, that he did have her back in all this. That inviting her to be a part of his family’s celebration while the whole world watched had come naturally, easily. That with every deeper glimpse into her, he wanted her by his side. The strength of the urge was inexplicably overwhelming.

      Physical attraction was one thing...this quite another.

      “Mario constantly feeds her lies and she swallows it all. Apparently, the only reason you could be interested in me is to get at him. The only reason, after years of a purely platonic relationship, that you’re taking this to a new level.

      “For so long, I tried to be strong for her. I let him manipulate me, twist me inside out. I let him run my life because I was afraid of hurting her. And the one step I take to build something for myself, to reach out for something I want...

      “She actually asked me to leave with them tonight! She thinks I’d...tangle myself with you out of some petty need for rebellion? It’s like she doesn’t realize I have my own dreams and needs,” Neha finished. “She’ll never realize that I have my own life to live.”

      There was anger in her voice now—anger that reverberated within him, a hundred times stronger, calling for action. And Leo knew she would come out of this fine. Anger led to action whereas grief just left one powerless. Under someone else’s control.

      Like love.

      Dio, how could Padma miss the ever-present shadows of anxiety in Neha’s eyes? How could she put Mario ahead of Neha?

      “Then it’s time to remove that toxic presence from your life,” he said softly.

      Her head jerked up. “What?”

      “Mario’s not at the root of that grief in your eyes. Your mum is. So don’t give her that power anymore.”

      Her eyes widened. “I can’t just cut her out.”

       “No?”

      She sat down on a cement bench, her bare legs stretched out in front of her. Her gaze turned thoughtful, her chin rising in that stubborn way. “What would’ve happened if Massimo had decided you should be cut out of his life all those years ago, just when you wanted to build a relationship with him? What if he’d decided you weren’t worth it?”

      The question stopped him in his tracks.

       If Massimo had refused his olive branch...

      Leo’s isolation would’ve been complete. Silvio would have succeeded in turning him into a mirror image of the power-bloated monster he was. The idea disturbed him on so many levels that Leo couldn’t curb his harsh words. “I’m not the one questioning every choice I’ve made over the last decade.”

      Neha fidgeted where she sat, the awkward silence building into something she couldn’t break through. His harsh tone shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. Because she’d never been on the receiving end of it.

      Her question had disturbed him. And he had shut her inquiry down. Neither was she unaware that they were discussing her own family’s shortcomings...but instead of resentment, she felt a sense of kinship with him.

      What kind of a man would Leo have been if hadn’t been tempered so harshly by the discovery of what kind of a man his father was? If he hadn’t had his fundamental beliefs shaken so early in life? If he hadn’t had to shut down a vital part to survive another day?

      So many years of knowing him, learning him and wanting him...a lifetime of watching him like this, and she’d never have enough.

      From the thick slashes of his brows to the deep-set eyes with long lashes he used to hide his expression, the deep scar on the left cheek and the thin-lipped mouth, combined with that weather-beaten quality of his skin—the gardens outside were clearly a labor of love—he was not classically handsome. But the ruggedly hewn features, that sense of calm confidence in his broad frame, the power of aura that radiated from him...the appeal he held had intensified as he grew older.

      Where there had been a cocky, the-world-is-mine kind of arrogance to him when she’d met him all those years ago, the fierce discipline with which he ruled those around him, and himself, had entrenched into his features.

      Her mum’s marriage to Mario had changed the course of Neha’s life, too. Carved away her choices bit by bit until this version of her remained. How much longer?

      “I’ve lived almost fifteen years of my life walking the tightrope of wanting something and being afraid of the blowback to her. Afraid that Mario would use my actions to drive a wedge between us. I turned myself into something even I don’t recognize.”

      Leo covered the distance between them, shaking his head. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”

      She swallowed the lump in her throat as he took her hands in his and squeezed tight. She’d been so lonely. But it was Leo’s touch that jump-started something that had been dormant inside her for too long. “Yeah?”

      “You took the first step toward building