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It was stupid. It was ridiculous. It was everything that was not proper, nothing that practical Anneke de Konigh would be expected to do, but oh God, it killed her still.
And that the Italian billionaire remained immobile throughout it, letting her pellet him with sugar cubes of all things—-
His face devoid of emotion even as people around them started taking videos, one that would eventually spread all over the Internet and turn viral—-
But oh, his eyes—-
Those dark eyes that held hers even as she shot another table’s worth of sugar cubes at him—-
Those eyes were telling her it was okay.
She could do anything she wanted with him, and it was okay.
Thatwas what killed her most of all, and the glass bowl in her hand slipped out of her hold. It crashed to the floor, and silence descended in the entire café at the loud, splintering sound.
He stepped forward, and she started to tremble.
“Anneke.” His voice was heartbreakingly gentle.
God oh God, he was killing her all over again.
“Stop.”Her voice was a tear-clogged whisper. “No more.”
Marcus swallowed hard. “Anneke—-”
She shook her head wildly. “Please.” The trembling of her body grew worse. “P-please. Whatever it is you’re planning – please, please stop. Please. Please. Please. Before you break my heart again – I’m begging you, please, please stop.”
Six
As the limousine rolledup the driveway, Anneke pulled out her gloves from her bag and began putting them on. It took longer than usual since her hands still hadn’t stopped shaking.
Winter had barely begun, but it was already colder than usual in St. Valentine, Contini’s very own ski haven. Glancing outside the window, Anneke wasn’t surprised to find on-site security already having its hands full, trying to keep the press out of the premises. None of the reporters seemed to even notice that snow had started to fall, much less care that the air could turn freezing cold any moment.
The chauffeur opened the door for her, and she thanked him without meeting the older man’s gaze. That he had seen her break down inside the car still shamed her. A de Konigh wasn’t supposed to be that weak. She owed it to her family to be stronger than that.
The family’s long-standing housekeeper and butler were waiting to greet her by the steps, and Anneke quickly summoned a smile for the two, not wanting them to worry about her. Willem de Konigh had trained these two, after all. Anneke would bet her life they knew what had gone down between her and Marcus Ravelli, could probably repeat their entire exchange verbatim if her eldest brother ever asked them to.
