Rebecca Winters - Will You Marry Me? - A Marriage Made in Italy / The Courage To Say Yes / The Matchmaker's Happy Ending

Belle’s pleading eyes trapped his. “My mother’s secrets are safe with me, and they have to remain safe with you, Leon. They have to.” The desperation in her voice pulled on his chaotic emotions.

“They’ll be safe as long as you do something important for me.”

“What?” Her breathing came in spurts.

“I insist you stay in my house as my guest until you return to the States. If you don’t let me do anything else, at least accept my hospitality. Our parents are married. That one fact bonds us in a way you can’t deny.”

“I wasn’t going to, but since I got the information I came for, I’m planning to fly back to New York either tonight or in the morning. Every second I’m here, it’s worse. The possibility that she could find out I’m a guest in your villa terrifies me. Whether she wanted me or not doesn’t matter. She gave me life and I’d rather die than hurt her.”

Leon’s admiration for Belle grew in quantum leaps. “I believe you would,” he murmured, before making a quick decision. “Your mind appears made up, so I’ll see you back to your rental car.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll meet you in the foyer after I let my housekeeper know I’m leaving.”

She nodded, and he went to find Simona. On his way back through the house he stopped in the dayroom to pick up the photograph Belle had been looking at. It showed Luciana and his father on their wedding day, outside the church. At twenty she bore an even stronger resemblance to her daughter.

When he reached the foyer, he found Belle studying a large oil painting of his family. “That’s my brother leaning against my mother.”

“You look about six years old there. How old was Dante?”

“Five. We’re just fourteen months apart.”

She turned to him. “What a handsome family. You resemble both your parents.”

“Genes don’t lie, do they?”

“No. Your mother has the most wonderful smile.”

“She was the most wonderful everything.”

Belle stared at him. “You were very lucky to have a mother like that. What was her name?”

“Regina Emilia of the House of Della Rovere in Pesaro.”

“A princess?”

“Yes.” He opened the door so she could walk past him. After he helped her into the car, he handed her the photograph. “I want you to have this. No one deserves it more than you do.”

Tears sprang to Belle’s eyes. “I couldn’t take it.”

“There are dozens more where this came from.” He shut the door and walked around to get behind the wheel.

* * *

Belle was still incredulous over what had happened. She hugged the photograph to her chest in wonder that she’d come to the end of her search. It was all because of Leon Malatesta, who was the most remarkable man she’d ever met. But it wasn’t his generosity that had caused her to tremble in his arms just now.

While he’d been holding her, kissing her like he would to comfort a child, feelings of a different kind had curled through her like flame. The need to taste his mouth and let go of her feelings had grown so intense, she knew she was in deep trouble. He was her stepbrother!

In the past, when her friends had talked about desire, she’d never experienced it. Until a few minutes ago she hadn’t known what it felt like. Shame washed over her to think she hadn’t wanted him to stop what he was doing to her. By easing away from her before she was ready, he’d sent her into another kind of shock.

“Are you all right, Belle?”

“Yes. I—I’m just feeling overwhelmed,” she stammered.

“Who could blame you?”

If he knew her intimate thoughts, he’d drive her straight to the airport right now. Earlier, he’d been ready to run her out of town, when he’d thought she was some gutter reporter out to dig up something salacious about his family. Instead he’d come after her at the pension and had single-handedly led her to her dream of finding her mother.

To tell him she was indebted to him couldn’t begin to convey what was in her heart. To think that after all these years of aching to know anything about her origins she had her answer...

With one glance at the amazing man behind the wheel, Belle knew she could trust him to keep his silence. It was herself she didn’t trust. There was such a huge part of her that wanted to visit her mother while she was still in Rimini; it was killing her.

The sooner Belle left Italy the better. But that meant she’d never see Leon again. How would she stand it?

You have to handle it, Belle.

Before they reached the library, she put the picture in her shoulder bag and pulled out her car keys. The minute he turned into the parking space next to her rental, she opened the door and got out, before he could help her. It only took a moment before she was ensconced in her own vehicle and ready to drive off.

As his tall, powerful frame approached, she opened the window. “Thank you for everything, Leon. I’ll never forget your kindness or the photograph.”

“I’ll never forget you,” he said in his deep voice. “Good luck in your future position at TCCPI. Have a safe trip home.”

Home. The word didn’t have the same meaning anymore. “Goodbye.” She started the engine and drove out to the main street. As soon as she reached the pension, she would phone to change her flight plans.

Through the rearview mirror she could see Leon standing there watching her, a bold, dynamic throwback from an earlier time in Italian history.

When she turned the corner and he was no longer in sight, a troubling thought came to her. He’d given her no grief about leaving Italy immediately. Her heart jumped all over the place because he’d made their parting far too easy. In truth, she knew the dark, mysterious son of the count could move heaven and earth if he felt like it.

* * *

Once Belle’s rental car had disappeared, Leon pulled out his cell phone and gave Ruggio instructions to go to the pension and keep a close eye on her. If she went anywhere, he was to follow her.

After making a call to Simona to find out how his little girl was doing, and let his housekeeper know he might not be home until late, he headed for the bank to talk to his father. Leon found him in his suite on a business call. His parent waved him inside.

While Leon waited, he poured himself a cup of coffee from the sideboard and paced the floor with it. Whether his father knew about Belle’s existence or not, what Leon had to tell him was going to come as a shock.

“It’s good to see you,” his father exclaimed after hanging up the phone. “Have you dropped in to tell me you’re willing to consider ending your mourning period and start looking at another woman I have in mind for you?”

“No, Papà.”

By marrying Benedetta, Leon had foiled his father’s plan for him to marry a woman of rank he’d carefully picked out for him. The hurt hadn’t been intentional, but Leon had always cared for Benedetta and refused to honor his father’s wishes in the matter of his marriage. No argument the count raised had made any difference to Leon.

In that regard he wasn’t so different from his widowed parent, who’d married a second time while Leon and Dante had begged him not to. But their pleading fell on deaf ears, and there’d been tension with their father ever since he’d brought Luciana into their home.

“I’m here to discuss something of a very delicate nature.” Leon locked the door to his suite so no one could interrupt them. “Since I know you just passed your annual medical exam without any major problems, I feel you can handle this.”

The count’s dark brows met in a distinct frown. “You’re beginning to make me nervous, Leonardo.”

“Not as nervous as I am.” He stared at his father. “This has to do with Luciana.”