Untamed Italians. Janette Kenny

      Stefano’s muscular frame tensed, like a large cat waking from a nap and sensing trouble. “Your brother offered the vessel in order to remain in the game. If I hadn’t paid his price, someone else would have.”

      She knew he was right, but facing the awful truth was crushing. Behind her back Emilio had been living the life of a playboy even though he didn’t have the funds to squander. For how many months had he deceived them all?

      Too many, she feared. She truly believed her brother had beaten his addiction over a year ago. But she’d been wrong.

      She’d never dreamed he’d lie and hide the truth from her and in the process lose the business their father had worked and died for. And now because of his false promise to help her tonight, because she’d trusted her brother, she stood to lose her half of the inn!

      “Scusi,” she said and made for the door, her mind racing to find the swiftest means to reach Monte Carlo.

      “Where are you going?”

      “To my brother.”

      “Why? What do you hope to accomplish by going there?”

      “To stop him from this gambling binge he’s on.” And if possible, claim what was due her before the dreaded deadline.

      “He won’t listen to you, bella.”

      He grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, his gaze darkly intense and pulsing with anger and vengeance and another emotion that was there and gone before she could recognize it. And then there was the power of his long, lean fingers snaked around her arm and the fire and energy arcing from him to her like a lightning storm, making her knees weak and her heart heavy.

      Why did he have to be so ruthless?

      He cupped her cheek in his palm and she blinked back sudden tears, for his tenderness mocked the animosity he held for her. “Even if you could reason with him, he’s in a high stakes game that plays hard and fast.”

      She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she knew she could only do one thing. Honor the promise she’d made to her parents. To Nonna.

      “All the more reason for me to go there now.”

      She jerked from Stefano and ran from the room, hating that she drew attention to herself, hating that she didn’t know how she could stop this avalanche of doom descending on her family.

      Stefano caught up to her just as she reached the main room. As before he pressed a hand to the small of her back and she came up short, as if there was an invisible thread between them that only he controlled.

      “How do you intend to get there at this hour?” he asked in a deceptively low calm voice.

      “I don’t know. A plane, perhaps.”

      “You will end up waiting for hours. The game could be over by then.”

      “Then I’ll rent a car and drive the distance.”

      “Unacceptable.”

      They stepped outside and he snapped his fingers, sending the attendant rushing to fetch his car.

      “I suppose you have a better idea?” she asked.

      A darkening scowl crossed his features, giving him that fierce gladiator mien again. At that moment she believed him capable of conquering anything. Her brother. Her. The world.

      “Let your brother sink or swim. It is over, bella. You can’t change him and you can’t meet the deadline. Accept it.”

      “I won’t stand by and do nothing.”

      The tendons in his neck stood out and his dark eyes blazed with anger at her defiance. Not that she cared what he thought.

      It was her family who would suffer.

      But even if Stefano had any concept of family, he’d not care about the turmoil she suffered. She had to talk sense into her brother and get him help before he was in debt so deeply he’d never get out.

      “I will not allow you to do this.”

      Gemma gaped at Stefano. Was he serious?

      “You can’t stop me.”

      She knew that was the wrong thing to say when his eyes darkened to that feral black again. But he held his thoughts and she suspected that was because they were surrounded by people.

      But she knew a cauldron of anger boiled within him. Anger at her brother, at her. At his father?

      It was the reason why that puzzled her.

      Then she recalled what had started this all. He’d mentioned the vast sum Cesare had spent the past year. Money he’d used for his daughter’s care as well as the generous gift he’d insisted she have.

      Her nest egg for a better tomorrow though she’d spent it all on the inn. Her nonna had lived long enough in squalor.

      Gemma wasn’t about to let her continue to do so, not when she finally had the means to make the necessary repairs. If Cesare hadn’t needed her, she would have returned to Manarolo and taken over the inn herself. It wasn’t as if she’d be usurping her sister-in-law’s duties!

      But she couldn’t tell Stefano any of that, for to do so would reveal the secret she’d swore to hold for Cesare. Now seeing how little regard Stefano held for family, she didn’t dare trust him with the truth.

      “You can’t meet the deadline for the loan,” he said as he escorted her to his car. “Which means I will own your half of the inn. If you hope to negotiate a means to regain the title, you would be wise to do as I tell you to do.”

      Gemma’s heart stuttered, aware that domineering threat wasn’t a mere boast. But was he serious about giving her a chance to regain her half of the inn? “What are you suggesting?”

      “We’ll discuss it later.” He motioned for her to get in the car, his expression carefully devoid of emotion again. “You want to go to Monte Carlo tonight, then I will take you.”

      “Then neither of us will be back at work in the morning,” she said as she got in the car.

      “Work can wait.”

      In moments he’d slid behind the wheel and cut into traffic with the expertise of a Formula 1 driver and she realized he was dead serious.

      She didn’t relish the idea of racing over the mountains in the middle of the night with Stefano Marinetti. But she couldn’t waste another second reaching her brother, either.

      “How long will it take to drive there?”

      “Too long. We are taking my helicopter.”

      He couldn’t be serious.

      But as he turned onto the main road and sped back toward the shipyard, she knew that Stefano Marinetti wasn’t jesting.

      An hour later, Stefano set down the helicopter in the executive heliport at Monte Carlo. Gemma hadn’t said a word since they’d lifted off, even though he’d fitted her with earphones.

      But then he hadn’t felt obliged to strike up a conversation, either. For one thing, the night-flight had demanded all his concentration. For another he didn’t trust himself to remain impassive when the very air they breathed pulsed with tension.

      Though he’d expected it, he still found it galling that she’d asked for an extension on the damned loan. “Cesare would’ve granted it,” she’d said, and he was certain she was right.

      That was all the reminder he’d needed to believe that she’d appeal to his father as soon as she could. She’d get back in Cesare’s good graces and his bed.

      But the possibility of her taking her position further loomed large before him, especially now that she stood to lose her shares of the inn. Marriage would cement her place in his father’s life and grant her the power to