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Fallon had changed since Sicily.
She moped, she didn’t laugh, she insisted on going to the endless rounds of charity benefits he’d simply sent checks to in the past, and he’d be damned if he knew the reason when all he saw in her eyes once they arrived at a party was sorrow each time some insensitive idiot couldn’t keep his eyes off her beautiful, wounded face.
“What am I to you, Stefano?” Fallon said quietly. “Tell me.”
His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. My heart, he thought. My beloved. But how could he admit that until she was ready to hear it? Until she accepted herself as she was? Until she was whole?
“You’re my responsibility,” he said carefully. “I want to take care of you, Fallon. Surely, you know that.”
She nodded. It wasn’t the answer she’d prayed for, but at least it was honest.
“I do know it. But you must know that it’s important I begin taking care of myself again.”
Damn it, if he wasn’t careful he was going to drive her away. Stefano swallowed his bewilderment and his anger. He reached for Fallon and took her in his arms.
“Cara,” he said softly. “This is a foolish thing to argue over.”
He felt her relax against him. “Yes. It is.”
“If you want to work, you should. But not for Carla.”
“Why not?”
He took a deep breath. “She’s a liar. She’s not someone to be trusted.”
“How do you know that?”
She was, as always, incisive and persistent. He admired her for that even as he tried to figure out what to say. How did a man tell the woman he loved that he’d had an affair with a woman she knew? A woman she saw every day? He knew Fallon didn’t think he’d lived like a monk, but still…
A man broke such news cautiously, that was how. And caution meant not making such an admission to a woman who was already angry at you.
“Carla and I had an agreement for that shoot at the castello and she reneged on it.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. How come you let Bridal Dreams take photographs there to begin with?”
Stefano managed a wry smile. “Carla made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“What offer?”
“Must we discuss this now?” he said impatiently. He slid his hands up her arms, then down again to her wrists. “If you must work, I’d prefer you to find another job. Will you do that?” He smiled and tipped her chin up. “For me?”
Fallon sighed. Stefano had done so much for her. Surely, she could do this for him.
“Will you? Please?”
“Yes. If it’s what you want, Stefano, I will.”
She leaned against him, loving the feel of him, the strength of him, and all at once she knew that what she really wanted to talk about had nothing to do with Carla.
“Tell me something,” she said in a low voice. “How would you feel if—if I saw a plastic surgeon?”
His expression didn’t change but it didn’t have to. A stillness came over him. He glanced at her scars, his gaze quick and guilty.
“The decision would be yours,” he said carefully. “I wouldn’t want to influence you.”
Fallon nodded. She wanted to weep but she didn’t. What should he have said? That he saw past her scars? That what he’d told her in Sicily held true in New York? That he wanted her for who she was, not for who she had been?
Somehow, she forced a smile.
“Thank you,” she said, “for being honest.”
“I would never lie to you,” Stefano said.
It wasn’t true and he knew it. He lied each day, by not telling her that he loved her.
He’d lied just now, by not telling her he didn’t want her to go under the surgeon’s knife.
He’d lied by not telling her about Carla.
I’m contemptible, he thought fiercely. The only time I don’t lie to her is when we make love.
He crushed her mouth beneath his until she clung to him and moaned his name. Then he carried her into his bedroom, and sought to expiate his guilt by making love to her through the long night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE next morning, Stefano disappeared into his study before breakfast. When he emerged, he said he had to fly out of town but that he’d be back in time for dinner.
“Just us,” he said, taking Fallon in his arms. “We’ll have a quiet evening. Is that okay with you?”
It was wonderful. She’d have bartered her soul for more like it.
“Yes,” she said, “it’s very okay.”
Stefano leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I flew off the handle last night. We shouldn’t have quarreled.”
“It was my fault.” Fallon looped her arms around his neck. “I should have told you about my job.”
Stefano gathered her against him, holding her close.
“There are things I should tell you, too.” He went on holding her, as if he never wanted to let her go. Then he lifted her face to his and kissed her, his mouth gentle and warm against hers. “We need to talk,” he said softly.
Fallon nodded. “Tonight.”
“Tonight,” he echoed.
He kissed her again. There was something in the kiss that frightened her, a kind of finality, but before she could ask him about it, he let go of her, slung his jacket over his shoulder and went out the door.
Fallon stood alone in the marble-floored foyer for a long moment. It was silly, reading meaning into a kiss when what she needed to concentrate on were things that were in her hands.
Quitting her job, for example. Carla wouldn’t be happy—she’d turned out to be a short-tempered boss who expected things to be done when she snapped her fingers, and Fallon was in the middle of organizing her files. Well, she’d stay on for a week, if Carla insisted. Stefano was a businessman; he’d surely understand that.
And then—and then there was what she’d decided about surgery. She’d raised the issue, not Stefano, but she’d seen his reaction. Still, she’d come to the conclusion that she wasn’t going to do it. Not yet. Not until she was sure she was doing it for herself and not for him.
She loved him—oh, how she wished she felt free to tell him that—but something so drastic had to be for her, not for anyone else.
Fallon drew a deep breath, expelled it, gave herself a last check in the mirror and headed out the door.
* * *
The Bridal Dreams offices were in total confusion.
Something had gone wrong with distribution in the Midwest, the colors of the current cover were completely off, and the designer Carla intended to feature in the May issue had just revealed she was really a he and was tired of being in the closet.
Carla ran around barking order
s and accusing everyone, including the kid who brought lunch from the corner deli, of trying to destroy her.
Under those circumstances, Fallon didn’t have the heart to drop the news that she was quitting.
Things quieted down in late afternoon and she stuck her head around the half-open door to Carla’s office.
“Carla? Do you have a minute?”
“Barely,” Carla said irritably. “I hope you’ve come to tell me you finished with those files.”
“Not yet. It’s a major overhaul and—”
“I don’t need excuses, Fallon. Just do your job and let me know when you’re done.”
Fallon shut the door behind her and came into the office. Carla looked up, surprised, as she sat down on the other side of the desk.
“I came to tell you I’m quitting. I’ll finish the files,” she added quickly, “but you’ll have to find someone else.”
Carla sat back, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on Fallon.
“I should have expected it. You think you’re too good for what you’re doing.”
“It isn’t that.”
“Give me a break!” Carla smiled coldly. “You’re accustomed to having everyone fussing over you and here you are, squatting in front of a dusty file cabinet or trailing around after me. As I said, I should have known.”
“I’m quitting for personal reasons, Carla. They have nothing to do with you.”
“What personal reasons?”
“I don’t see any need to go into them.” Fallon stood up. “I thought it only fair to give you notice. If you need me to stay through the end of next week—”
“It’s your boyfriend.”
“What?” Fallon felt her cheeks flush. “No. Stefano has nothing to do with—”
“He doesn’t like you working for me.”
“I told you, he has—”
“You can’t lie worth a damn, O’Connell.” Carla hunched forward, a thin smile on her face. “What’s the problem? Does he think this is beneath you? Is he afraid people might think he isn’t supporting you properly?”
“I’m not going to discuss my personal life,” Fallon said coldly. She turned and reached for the door. “As I said, if you need me to stay until—”
“Or does he worry that the woman he slept with a couple of months ago and the woman he’s sleeping with now are liable to compare notes?”
