Page 40 of Back to Claim His Italian Heir

‘Do you really think he’ll stay with you?’ Antonio challenged, his voice turning silky soft. ‘For the long term? Oh, I admit he’s besotted, it’s ridiculous. But do you actually think that will last? Do you think someone like you could actually hold the attention of a man like Nico for all but a nanosecond?’ He let out a laugh—high, cruel, utterly derisive. Someone near them glanced over, frowning.

Emma felt a blush scorch her cheeks, but she forced herself to keep Antonio’s gaze.

‘I feel sorry for you,’ she declared. ‘You obviously have never been in love.’

‘And you think Nico is in love?’ Antonio asked incredulously. ‘Withyou?’

The question, asked with such blatant, mocking disbelief, caught her on the raw. Opened up all those old, wounded insecurities until she felt as if she were bleeding out. ‘Why do you care?’ Emma demanded shakily. ‘What does it have to do with you?’

He took a step closer to her, looming menacingly close. ‘I don’t,’ he told her bluntly, his scornful gaze raking her from head to toe. ‘In fact, I couldn’t care less. But I thought you might appreciate some plain speaking. There won’t be ten grand for you this time.’ He turned away without another word, while Emma was left shaken and reeling.

There wasn’t a speck of truth in his statements, she told herself as she tottered on wobbly legs to the ladies’ powder room. He was just a callous, cynical,cruelman who liked to tear people down for the fun of it. She’d known people like that before, all through her life.

And yet his wordshurt. They exposed the vulnerability she was still trying so hard to hide, the fear that she wouldn’t be good enough, that just as before,alwaysbefore, Nico would change his mind, because everyone changed their mind about her...

‘Emma? Absolutely not.’

The memory rushed through, scalding her with its shame. If people she’d let herself love, who had loved her, or seemed to, could be so certain about turning their backs on her, why should Nico be any different?

‘It’s not true,’ Emma said aloud, but her voice sounded feeble to her own ears. It sounded doubtful—because she knew she did doubt. As much as she wanted to believe, tohope, she couldn’t keep herself from fearing the worst—again. Because in the past the worst had always happened to her.

Taking a shuddering breath, Emma dabbed at her eyes and then repaired her make-up, determined not to let Antonio or anyone else see how he’d affected her. Then, with another breath, she straightened, squaring her shoulders, tilting her chin, and heading back out to the party—and the real world.

She’d barely made it a few steps past the powder room when Nico appeared, smiling easily, although a frown settled between his brows as he took in her undoubtedly still stricken expression.

‘There you are.’

‘Yes.’ Emma did her best to smile, but she felt it wobble and slide off her face.

‘Emma?’ He touched her arm. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, just tired.’ She gave a slight grimace. ‘Being on my feet for so long...all this socialising... I’m used to quieter island life now, I suppose!’ She tried for a laugh and felt it ring false.

‘Do you want to go home?’

Desperately.

‘If...if you don’t mind.’

His frown deepened, his gaze scanning her face. ‘Of course not. Let me just make my apologies.’

Emma nodded woodenly as Nico turned to head back into the party. The sooner she got out of here, she told herself, the better. And yet she was afraid leaving the party wouldn’t change the doubts that now clamoured in her own heart.

Nico weaved his way through the guests, intending only to speak to the host of the gala, to make their apologies. He hoped Emma really only was tired; she’d looked so pale and forlorn, even as she’d tried to smile. Perhaps coming to Rome had been a bad idea. Too much rushing about...

‘You haven’t said hello, cousin.’

Nico halted mid-stride and turned to see his cousin, Antonio, smiling at him pleasantly, although Nico noted that his eyes looked hard. Besides their brief meeting when he’d returned from Jakarta, before haring off to Los Angeles, he hadn’t seen his cousin since the accident. Considering how he’d treated Emma, as well as the latent tension that had been simmering between them since his paternity had become known, he hadn’t particularly wanted to.

Now Nico inclined his head. ‘Antonio.’

‘How’s your recovery?’ Antonio asked, and Nico thought his tone was rather cool. ‘Get your memory back?’

‘Of the crash? No.’ Antonio had asked him how much he’d remembered from that day, and Nico had confessed it was all a blank. Now, as he took in his cousin’s assessing look, he wondered why he was seeming even more distant and guarded. Was it because of Emma, or something else? Something more?

He wasn’t about to broach that whole topic now; he needed to get back to her. ‘I’ll be back in Rome next week,’ he said instead. ‘To catch up on all that has happened in my absence.’ And to tender his resignation so he could start his own company, but he had no intention of talking about that with his cousin, either.

‘Of course.’ Antonio’s lips twisted. ‘I’ve no doubt you’re eager to be back at the helm.’