Page 43 of Public Wife, Private Mistress

Rico took another mouthful of wine. 'Ours is a bond that goes deeper than friendship. My family owes his family everything. Without his father's help, we would have starved.'

But it was Rico who had found the solution. Rico who had laboured to provide for his family. No wonder his mother was so protective of him. No wonder money was so important to them. They'd known what it was like to live without it to face poverty and starvation.

Suddenly she was ashamed of herself. It was easy to dismiss money as unimportant when you'd always had enough.

'And you have repaid the debt to Gio's father.'

'Many times over, financially. And the loyalty be­tween our families is unquestionable.'

Stasia was silent for a long moment, shaken by this unexpected insight into Rico's character and past. And she was touched by the loyalty he'd shown to his fam­ily. And envious. Why had she not been given that same unflinching loyalty?

'And your mother depended on you for everything. I see that now. To them you're some sort of god. But I didn't have the same background,' she said simply, her glance a little wistful because she knew that he wouldn't understand. "The money wasn't what I wanted. What I wanted was you, Rico. I wanted to know every single corner of your mind. I wanted to know what made you tick. I wanted to know what made you laugh and what made you afraid. I wanted to know what drove you. And I wanted you to show the same interest in me.'

'I married you. I assumed that confirmed my interest,' he said dryly and she felt her heart flutter.

'Why?' She hardly dared voice the question. 'Why did you marry me?'

'Because once I made you mine there was no ques­tion of letting you go,' he replied immediately, his tone possessive and unmistakably male.

'But you did,' she said quietly. 'You did let me go, Rico.'

His fingers drummed on the tabletop. 'You walked out.'

'You didn't try and stop me. And you didn't come after me.'

He drained his wine. 'You betrayed me.'

'I was innocent.'

He thumped the glass down on the table. 'The in­nocent don't run.'

She rose to her feet, her legs shaking. 'But the angry do, and I was angry. Rico. Angry with you. angry with—' She broke off before she could voice his sister's name, reminding herself that there was no point to any of this. 'I can't believe we're even talking about this now.'

'Neither can I.' His voice was thickened and he ran a hand over the back of his neck like a man who was confronting demons that he didn't want to confront.

'You raised the subject.'

'My mistake. Let's drop it,' he growled, 'before I do or say something I regret.'

Stasia stared at the table. She already had so many regrets that it hardly seemed possible to add more. She regretted the fact that she'd allowed the distance to grow between them. She regretted the fact that she'd walked out that day. That she hadn't stayed to fight for her man.

She'd been very quick to fling accusations at him, but could she have changed things? If he'd told her all these things about his past sooner, could she have changed things?

Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she heard the sharp hiss of his breath as he registered the depth of her emotion.

'Not that.' His voice was rough and he curled a hand round the back of her neck and brought his mouth down on hers. 'You are the only woman who has never used tears on me.'

'I'm not crying.' She muttered the words against his seeking mouth. 'I never cry.'

'Tough to the last—' His tongue was seeking, tasting, and they both knew where this was leading.

'Not that tough—' She slid a hand round the back of his neck, drawing him closer, feeling his tension. 'I wish you'd told me all this before.'

'It is not something I talk about— '

She felt the warmth of his breath against her mouth and suddenly her stomach dropped alarmingly. She needed to be with him. Now. And the future didn't mat­ter.

It didn't matter that he still believed her capable of doing things that she could never have done.

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