Mistress To a Latin Lover: The Sicilian's Defiant Mistress / The Italian's Pregnant Mistress / The Italian's Mistress. Jane Porter
gag.
But there wasn’t a baby, not anymore, and nothing Emilio could say or do would bring the baby back…
Numbly, resolutely, Cass changed out of the white lace dress and put her turquoise gown back on. She struggled to get the zipper back up before smoothing loose tendrils of hair back into the elegant twist, tucking a few new pins into the twist to secure it better.
Cass was partway down the hall when Emilio appeared at the head of the stairs.
It was hard to read his expression in the shadowy hall but his tone betrayed his fury. “You didn’t change.”
“It didn’t fit,” she said calmly, reaching for the banister but before she could start to descend the staircase Emilio grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her back.
“I don’t appreciate you wasting my time.”
“Take your hands off me.”
He wrapped his fingers tighter around her biceps. “Change. Now.”
“I can’t.” But she didn’t sound the least bit apologetic and she knew it. “The dress didn’t fit. I’ll send it home with you so you can return it in Rome.”
For a moment he said nothing. He didn’t move. He just studied her in the dim light of the hall.
Then swiftly he took a step toward her, reached for the front of her turquoise gown and jerked violently on the fabric, ripping the designer gown wide-open.
“Oh dear, it looks like this gown doesn’t fit, either.” He made a sympathetic clucking sound before turning away. “Put on the dress I gave you or I shall go straight to the reception and announce to everyone that you weren’t just Maximos’s mistress—but the mother of his late child.”
Cass swayed on her feet, her right hand clutching the torn gown to her breast. “I didn’t come here to ruin the wedding—”
“But you did want to humiliate him—”
“No.” Her voice quavered. “No, I don’t want to humiliate him, I’d never want to humiliate him. I love him. I’ve always loved him.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” Emilio turned away, headed for the stairs but paused briefly on the top step. “Hurry. You’ve five minutes before I leave for the restaurant, and don’t think I won’t spill the beans. I’d like nothing better than to spoil sweet Adriana’s special night with really bad news. And trust me, Cass, this would be really bad news.”
Cass put the dress on and walked out of the room without even looking in the mirror. She didn’t need to look in the mirror. She knew exactly what she’d see and it made her sick.
Outside, Emilio was gunning the engine. He said nothing as Cass slid into the passenger seat but in the glow of the dashboard light she saw the satisfied curl of his upper lip.
The rehearsal dinner was being held at a restaurant near the cathedral and Emilio found parking on a narrow street not far from the restaurant. Just before Emilio pocketed the car keys he reached over, tugged on Cass’s French twist, pulling the pins out until her heavy honey-brown hair fell to her bare shoulders.
But he wasn’t finished yet. With the tip of his finger he smudged her lipstick up over the bow of her upper lip, below her lower lip, and then with his thumb he smeared her eyeliner beneath her eyes. “Better,” he said, wiping his hands off. “Nice and slutty. Just the way I like my women.”
Despite her flaming cheeks, Cass steeled herself, clamping down on her emotions, refusing to let herself think or feel as she walked next to Emilio. She hated him. That’s all she knew. She hated him and somehow she had to get through this evening, survive the shame of this evening until she could speak to Maximos and try to explain.
And what would she say?
She was sorry? She hadn’t meant to embarrass him? She hadn’t meant to ruin Adriana’s wedding?
Her throat squeezed closed, and she stepped carefully over the rough curb stones in her dangerously high heels, paused in the restaurant doorway and straightened her shoulders. Just do this. Just get through this. And then go home as soon as you return to the palazzo.
The wedding party was already at the restaurant and Cass spotted Maximos almost immediately. He wasn’t alone, either. He was standing with the young woman who’d been sent to find him earlier, the beautiful brunette in the pale pink dress, and his arm rested lightly around her waist.
Cass halted inside the door, her legs turning to lead.
Maximos was with her. She was his date.
Cass blinked, feeling thick, stupid. She didn’t know why she was so shocked. Of course Maximos had a new woman. There was no reason for him not to. He was a man, a man in his prime, and he was physical. Sensual. Sexual.
Cass felt Emilio’s hand in the small of her back, urging her forward but her legs wouldn’t cooperate.
Of course he had a new woman, she silently repeated, but what stunned Cass, what hurt her so much, was the face that his new lover wasn’t kept in the background, wasn’t a woman he saw late at night or only on the weekends. This new woman wasn’t a mistress…but a partner.
“Sophia,” Emilio said, his voice in Cass’s ear. “That’s Sophia d’Santo. Maximos’s longtime companion.”
Longtime companion? Cass couldn’t look away from Maximos and pretty Sophia. Had Maximos possibly been seeing another woman when he was seeing her? She suspected Emilio was lying, just as he lied about everything else and yet it didn’t take much to throw Cass, not when she was already feeling so vulnerable…so ridiculously insecure.
“How long?” she asked faintly, stomach churning.
“Three years. Four. Maybe longer.”
Cass glanced up, saw that Emilio was serious. But again, that could be Emilio acting. And he seemed to have a genuine talent for drama and theatrics. “You know her?”
“I knew her sister better.”
“Her sister?”
“Lorna.” Emilio shot Cass a sly glance. “You should ask Max about Lorna sometime. It’s not often a man gets both sisters.”
“Gets?”
“Possesses.” Emilio shrugged. “But then Maximos is rich, and powerful, and connected. No wonder Sophia still throws herself at Maximos even though he treated her older sister shamefully.”
Cass glanced at pretty Sophia but saw nothing in the girl’s manner, or behavior, to indicate that Sophia was anything but sophisticated, and refined. “Is Lorna…the other sister…here?”
Emilio hesitated, then shook his head. “No.” His hand slid from her waist and he took her elbow instead. “Let’s get something to drink.”
Emilio steered her through the throng toward one of the restaurant staff passing out champagne to guests. “I can’t wait to see his face when he sees us,” he added, dropping Cass’s elbow to take two champagne flutes from one of the passing waiters. “His expression will be priceless.” Emilio handed her a glass before raising his own. “To revenge.”
He took a large swallow from his glass before noting her cold expression. “Come on, smile. This is fun.”
She turned her head away, sickened. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pull this off. “Emilio—”
“No.”
“I can’t do—”
“Too late. We made a deal.” His voice dropped, his hand returning to her arm. “There’s no backing out now. Remember?”
She felt the lump grow in her throat. “I don’t want to hurt him—”
“But I do. Badly.” He reached