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Emilio took her hand, but she pulled it away.
‘Please, Jasmine. Give me chance to explain before you reject me.’ The defeat in his voice was like claws in her heart, but she had to remain strong. Stand her ground.
The journey to the hotel was tense and silent. She said nothing, even as Emilio checked them in, and stood away from him in the lift. She needed a clear head for what lay before her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jasmine was inthe most beautiful hotel suite she had ever seen. She had always wanted to visit Venice. Now that she was here, she couldn’t have cared less about any of it.
‘I want answers,’ she said as soon as Emilio closed the door.
‘Can we not take a moment to—?’
‘No.’ She cut him off. She wouldn’t be moved. She wouldn’t be placated with sweet words or gestures. Wouldn’t go to the bedroom or any other place where Emilio could distract her.
Gia’s words had shaken her. They’d made her see sense. She couldn’t put a plaster over their issues in the hope they could have something special. He was still lying to her, still hiding things.
‘Talk, Emilio.’
She watched him run his hands through his hair. His distress was obvious on his face, in the stiffness of his body. He took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of an arm chair then rolled up his shirt sleeves.
‘Who is Gia?’
‘Enzo’s ex-fiancée.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, then walked over to her and placed his hands on Jasmine’s shoulders, his eyes beseeching. ‘I need you to know what I am about to tell you is not the person I am any more. At least, I have tried to be better.’
‘Just tell me.’ Part of her wanted to comfort him, because the pain on his face was clear for anyone to see, but a greater part, a part that protected herself, needed to know, and to hell with his feelings. So she stood in this awkward embrace, unmoved.
Emilio took the hint and stepped away from her. ‘Eight years ago, before our father died, Enzo met Gia. Their relationship was romantic from the start. When he introduced her to the family, the two of us connected almost immediately. We were close. Became friends. She needed a confidante, and I would listen. Then, after our father died, she and Enzo became engaged. But my brother had always put duty above everything else. He wascontefirst and everything else second…’
Jasmine could understand that. After all, from what Emilio had said, Enzo had been groomed for the role. ‘Gia was growing increasingly frustrated by that. She felt rejected when he would cancel plans for the company or Perlano, and it just got worse.’
‘Of course; your father just died. Enzo would have had his hands full.’
Emilio shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. What matters is that he made her feel unimportant. One night when I came home, I found Gia on my balcony. She had been drinking; he’d run out of some wedding planning event and she was upset. We talked. She asked me to drink with her and, stupidly, I did.’
Emilio laughed humourlessly and walked to the window as though he were watching all this unfold in the distance. ‘I never intended it to happen,’ he said softly. ‘I wanted to keep my feelings to myself.’
‘Your feelings?’
‘I was falling in love with her. Or I thought I was. I was twenty-one. Young and foolish. That night I got too drunk, too wrapped up in my feelings. She was upset and we made a mistake. Or at least, I did.’
‘Oh God! Tell me you didn’t…’ Jasmine could feel the bile rise in her throat.
‘We slept together.’
‘Emilio…’ Jasmine breathed, horrified. The trust she had for this man was cracking, then shattering…just like her heart.
‘I regretted it immediately.’
‘And Gia?’ Jasmine was almost too afraid to know the answer.
‘Nowhere near as upset as I was. That should have been my first sign. There were many signs,’ Emilio said to himself.
‘Signs of what?’
‘The person she was. I hated my brother and still I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. She was supposedly in love with him, but she seemed fine with what happened. Glad for it. I misread that. I thought she might…return my feelings.’
Jasmine was stunned. She didn’t know how to respond. Her throat burned but she didn’t want to cry. Didn’t want to be vulnerable. Not now.