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He cursed, bent down and caught her chin in his hand. “I told you not to test me,” he said with controlled rage in his voice. “Stop it now, or you will regret what happens next.”
She jerked away from him. “I regret everything that’s happened already. Why should I fear what happens next?”
Nicolo glared at her. He wanted to slap her. To kiss her. To throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the small bedroom in the rear of the cabin….
Was this what having a wife reduced a man to?
He looked at the seat next to hers. “I already do,” he said coldly, and walked to the last seat on the starboard side and buckled himself in.
Moments later, they were skyborne.
Once they’d reached cruising altitude, Nicolo used the plane’s satellite phone to call James Black.
At first, the old man didn’t believe him.
“Married? Impossible,” he scoffed. “There are laws. No one can get married so quickly.”
“Aimee and I are married,” Nicolo said coldly. And then, because he couldn’t contain the words, “I expected you to be delighted by the information, signore. After all, it was part of your plan.”
“An excellent plan, Your Highness, as I’m sure you now agree.”
“There is more.”
“Of course. The papers, transferring ownership of the bank to you. I’ll start the procedure tomorrow.”
Nicolo ran a hand through his hair. Amazing. He’d just told Black his granddaughter was married and all the old man could think about was his damnable bank.
“As I said, Signore Black, there is more.”
“More?”
Suddenly Nicolo didn’t want Black to know about Aimee’s pregnancy. The baby was a private matter, not another thing over which the old man could gloat. Let him think the acquisition of the bank was the reason for the marriage.
“Mi dispiace, signore. A, um, a detail I just thought of but we can let the lawyers handle it.”
“Then, I’ll get my people to work immediately. Where shall they send the documents? To your attorney? Your office? It shouldn’t take more than a week. Two, at the most. Are you at the hotel you were at before?”
“I have left the city, Signore Black. I—that is, we—are en route to my home in Rome.”
“Excellent. I’ll give instructions to forward the documents to you there. Goodbye, Your Highness.”
Click. End of conversation. Nicolo was holding a dead phone.
Black hadn’t inquired after Aimee. He hadn’t asked to speak to her.
Nicolo put the phone aside. As far as her grandfather was concerned, Aimee was a gambit in an intricate business maneuver.
At least the old man would not be able to use her anymore.
He looked at the front of the plane. At Aimee, at his wife, who sat so rigidly in her seat. What was she thinking? In less than two days, her world had turned upside down.
Her grandfather had all but told her that her only value was as a lure. She’d learned she was pregnant. She had been coerced into marriage.
And yet, she remained proud. Strong. Defiant.
Nicolo imagined going to her. Taking her in his arms. Telling her that everything would be all right, that she could trust him to take care of her, that he—that he—
That he what?
