Page 55 of Italian Weddings

T HE LAST THING EMILIA had any intention of admitting in front of Leandro was that she didn’t actually feel fine.

Her head was aching and her body was trembling.

She didn’t think she’d broken any bones, but her whole body felt as though she’d been put into a sack and tossed about a little.

In short, she was sore all over. Mostly, though, she was in shock.

Shock at Leandro having discovered their relationship, shock at the fact he was now walking like some kind of bridesmaid behind Salvatore, as he carried Emilia down the emergency stairs like she weighed nothing.

“You can’t carry me to the lobby, Salvatore. We’re on the twenty ninth floor.”

He flicked his gaze at her. “You think I wouldn’t carry you a thousand times further, if you needed it?”

Her heart turned over. She lifted her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I’m okay.”

A muscle throbbed low in his jaw, and instead of saying anything to show that he was mollified by her statement, he kept walking, one step after the other, so she tucked her head against his chest and closed her eyes, just breathing him in.

“Are you okay?”

She blinked up at him when he didn’t answer, to find he was staring at her intently.

“Don’t pass out.”

“I won’t.”

“You closed your eyes.”

“Yes.” She wasn’t about to admit that she simply wanted to breathe him in. Even with a raging headache, and she suspected a concussion, she hadn’t totally lost control of her brain.

They turned the corner to another landing and this time, Salvatore moved towards the doors.

Leandro moved quickly though, anticipating Salvatore, stepping past him to hold open the doors.

As they brushed past her brother, Emilia looked at him over Salvatore’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

The look in his eyes made her gut roll. The hurt and confusion there, the worry.

They were all things she would never willingly subject her brother to.

Or anyone in her family. She stifled a yawn, and let her eyes close again.

She felt Salvatore’s step quicken and then, heard the swooshing of the elevator doors.

Her eyes drifted shut, as he stepped inside, and then, she heard a soft curse fall from his lips, as the elevator began to speed to the ground. Emilia was asleep before it reached its destination.

“Don’t do this,” Salvatore ground out.

“You heard the doctor,” Leandro replied. “Family only.”

“Yes,” the doctor chimed in. “And going by the state you’re both in, you should be seen next.”

Salvatore frowned at the doctor. “She wouldn’t want this.”

The doctor nodded with apparent sympathy. “And when she’s able to tell me that, you can see her. But for now, it’s hospital protocol.” She turned to Leandro. “Come with me, sir.”

Leandro threw Salvatore a triumphant look as he followed the doctor through the overly-bright hospital corridor, leaving Salvatore fuming in the waiting area.

From the moment they’d gotten into Leandro’s car, so Salvatore could sit in the back with Emilia, and driven through the streets of Manhattan to the nearest hospital, Salvatore had felt almost as though he and Leandro were a team.

At least, a pair of men engaged in the same mission, determined to help Emilia however they could.

Both equally desperate to be assured that she was okay.

But the second they’d crossed through the hospital doors and handed her over to a team of doctors and nurses, the battle lines had been redrawn, with Leandro edging Salvatore out at every opportunity.

And unfortunately, given that Salvatore was not a family member, it was an easy thing for Leandro to do.

He swallowed a curse as he strode across the foyer, looking for someone—anyone—to sort this mess out. But how? What would happen? He could make a fuss, but would it work? Undoubtedly not. He’d come up against bureaucratic policy 101. There was nothing for it but to wait.

“You have to go and get him,” Emilia said, anger with Leandro impossible to fight.

After being put through a thousand scans and checks, to be told she had suffered a mild concussion and sprained wrist but was otherwise fine, she came to understand that Leo had used the hospital’s policies to keep Salvatore away from her.

“I’m serious, Leo. Go and get him. Now.”

“Why, Emme? Why do you want him so badly?”

“For one thing, because I know he’ll be worried about me.”

“So what? He worries. Who gives a shit?”

“I do.”

“Why?” Leandro dragged a hand through his hair. “What the hell is going on with you, Emilia?”

“Nothing.”

“So what are you doing?”

“I—nothing.”

“You are messing around with Salvatore Santoro. Do you have any idea what it would do to our parents if they discovered this?”

“I—know it’s not what they would want.”

“Precisely. So why put them through the pain?”

“I’m not putting anyone through the pain of anything. We’ve taken great care to keep this off the radar—the fact you found out was an accident, but it can be the end of it.”

Leandro stood across the room, staring at her as though she’d sprouted two heads. “How long has this been going on?”

It was the first time it occurred to Emilia that she possibly wasn’t in the best place for this sort of conversation. Her brain, usually sharp and quick, wasn’t keeping up.

“Answer the damned question, Emilia.”

She flinched a little. “It’s been—a while.”

“A while? A night, two, three? A week?”

She shook her head then stopped immediately when pain radiated through her whole body. “A month,” she said, finally.

“A month? Cristo .”

“It’s fine,” she reiterated. “No one needs to know. You can forget about it. It’s not a big deal.”

“You honestly think the fact you’ve been sleeping with a Santoro for a month isn’t a big deal? Do you think our parents will take the same view?”

“I’m not telling them, and you’re not either.”

“You think?”

Her jaw dropped. “You have to be kidding me.”

“Nothing about this is a laughing matter.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I genuinely cannot understand how and why this happened. You could be with any man on earth, besides a Santoro, yet you choose Salvatore? Honestly, what’s gotten into you?”

She flinched again. “Go and get him, Leo. Please.”

He stared at her long and hard. “Fine. Stay here.”

“Like I have so many other options,” she muttered. Because if she had, she’d have been up and out of the hospital in a minute flat. But she wore an open backed hospital gown, her clothes neatly folded and stored somewhere out of sight.

She had no choice then, but to wait.

“She’s asked you to leave.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Leandro shrugged. “Then you’re welcome to stay. She said she needed space.”

It was like being hit with an anvil. Every single cell in his body reverberated in surprise, revolting against that. He couldn’t leave without at least seeing her. Without knowing that she was okay. He couldn’t just walk out on her.

“This thing you’ve been doing, it was fine when it was just the two of you. But seeing my reaction, I guess it gave her second thoughts. She wants time to think.”

Salvatore’s gut dropped. It made sense. All the sense in the world. But in his heart, he knew that his own reaction had been the absolute opposite. “How is she?” His voice was gruff, strained to his own ears.

“She’s fine.” And then, with a heavy sigh. “She has a concussion and a sprained wrist. They’ll let her go soon.”

Salvatore opened his mouth to say something, to insist that she should come to his home, where he could look after her, but that sounded like the exact opposite of what Emilia wanted.

Space; space to think.

Wasn’t that wise?

Their month was almost up. They’d both known that. But having Leandro discover them in the stairwell had thrown every carefully laid plan into absolute disarray.

The certainty Salvatore had felt for this entire month—that they were on a clear path with an obvious direction—was now an absolute jumble of twists and turns.

A future he hadn’t known he wanted hovered now, he feared, out of reach.

And even then, he could barely acknowledge to himself that he did in fact want that future. Everything was wrong.

“You should go,” Leandro said, and when Salvatore turned to look at the Valentino man, he saw him as if for the first time—including the bruise on his cheek.

His gut twisted harder, at the knowledge that he’d done that to Emilia’s brother.

Whatever else this man was to him, he was her brother, and she loved him.

No wonder she needed space. She’d seen into the heart of him—had seen what he was capable of. Hurting people. Hurting her.

Ice spread through his veins, but he moved to the nurse’s station anyway. “May I have a pen and paper?”

A pretty young woman with blonde hair and pink lips handed him a notepad with the hospital’s branding across the top. He took it with a curt nod and began to write:

E—I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. S.

It wasn’t enough. It was far from it. But these were words he had to say. Words he needed her to hear. At least, to start with.

He strode back to Leandro and handed the note to him. “Give this to her.” There was no question. It was a statement, sucked from the very depths of his soul. “Please.”

Leandro looked as though he wanted to argue, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. He simply took the paper and nodded once. “Fine.”

“Okay.” Still he hesitated. He didn’t know what he could say to fix this. “None of this was her fault.”

Leandro laughed then, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “You think I don’t know that?”

Salvatore held his ground, but inside, his organs were in freefall.

“My sister is as innocent as the day is long. She is sweet and kind; she’s no match for someone like you, for Christ’s sake. You must have realized that.”

He’d been punched by this man, multiple times, yet it was these words that landed like a total body blow against him.

Because he had realized it. In fact, she’d all but said it.

She’d admitted her inexperience, told him why his own history with women bothered her.

He should have walked away from this then.

He should have walked away so hard and fast.

“If you care about her at all, you will leave here now, and forget about her.”

Salvatore fought that idea internally—there was no way he could forget her.

“She could never be happy with you. Not knowing what the price of that happiness would be.”

“And what price is that?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Salvatore waited, body tense, staring at the other man.

“There is absolutely no reality in which Emilia and you can be together, in which she is also a part of our family. It would destroy my parents, but that would be their line. So if you care about her, walk away. Do it for her.”

Salvatore’s entire body was in a state of paralysis.

He shook his head, once, rejecting that assertion, wanting to tell the other man not to be so ridiculous.

But then, every flash of conversation with Emilia cleared into his mind.

Every small reference she’d made to her family, making it clear how close they were, how much she valued them.

“Give her the note,” he said, quietly, taking a step backwards. Maybe space was the best idea—for both of them.

He turned and stalked away from Leandro, towards the hospital doors, so didn’t see the moment the other man pulled the note from his pocket and discarded it in a nearby bin, without so much as reading the contents.