Modern Romance March 2021 Book 5-8 by Carol Marinelli (desktop ebook reader txt) 📗

He had suffered through all of that to correct a thirty-one-year-old wrong and, unpleasant as proceedings had all been, at least he had the extraordinary memory of her to offset it.

Even now, as he saw how devastated she was over their exposure, he couldn’t make himself say he was sorry. Did she remember how much pleasure they’d given each other?

He pushed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t try to remind her.

“The announcements will be made tomorrow. I’ll step down, and Sofia will be recognized as the rightful ruler. My coronation ceremony was scheduled to happen before our parliament sits in the autumn. It will be revised for her, but she’s taking control immediately. Let the dust settle on some of this before you assume you’ll take the fall for it.”

She snorted, despondent, and turned her back on him. She looked like a tree that had been stripped bare. She was a hollow trunk swaying in the dying winds of a storm.

Was she hiding tears?

His guts fell into his shoes and his heart was upside down in his chest. He wanted to take her in his arms, hold her and warm her and swear this would be okay. Come to my room. He kept the words in his throat, but they formed a knot that locked up his lungs so his whole torso ached.

“When can I go back online? Bea and Clare are probably frantic.” Her voice was a broken husk.

“My people have provided them with a statement.”

That had her whirling around to face him, eyes shooting fires of disbelief that were quickly soaked by her welling tears. “You don’t speak for me, Luca. You don’t get to tell your side without giving me a chance to tell mine!”

“It’s only a standard ‘not enough information to comment—’”

No use. She disappeared into the bedroom and slammed the door on him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

AMY TOSSED AND TURNED and finally quit fighting her tears. When she let go, she cried until her eyes were swollen and scratchy, then rose and set a cool, wet cloth over them. Her stomach panged so hard with hunger, she dug up cold leftovers the maid had left in the fridge.

It was almost two in the morning. She didn’t know if the guard was still in the garden and didn’t check. Her one brief thought about trying to run away was stymied by exhaustion.

She crawled back into bed and didn’t wake until midmorning when her phone came alive with alerts and notifications. Her internet access had been restored.

Tempted as she was to post I’m being held against my will, she was quickly caught up in reading all the news updates, emails and texts along with listening to her voice mail.

She brought her knees up to her chest, cringing as her mother’s message began with an appalled “For God’s sake, Amy.”

Beyond the bedroom door, she heard the maid enter the suite, but kept listening to her mother harangue her for making international headlines “behaving like a trollop.”

It wasn’t the maid. Her heart lurched as Luca walked into the bedroom with a tray. He was creaseless and stern, emanating the scent of a fresh shower and shave.

Amy was nestled in the pillows she’d piled against the headboard, blankets gathered around her. She clicked off her phone mid maternal diatribe and dropped the device.

“You really have been demoted, haven’t you?”

He stilled as he absorbed the remark, then gave her a nod of appreciation. “Nice to have you back. I was worried. Especially when I was told you didn’t eat a single bite yesterday. That changes now.” He touched something on the tray and legs came down with a snick.

“Your spies don’t know what I do when no one is around.” She was dying for coffee, though, so she straightened her legs, allowing him to set the tray across her lap.

“They’re spies, Amy. Of course, they do.” He sat down next to her knees and poured coffee from the carafe into the two cups on the tray.

“Are you really having me watched?” She scowled toward the ceiling corners in search of hidden cameras.

“No.” His mouth twitched. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to concern over how you might be handling the restoration of your internet connection. You were very angry last night.” He sipped his coffee. “Anything we should know about?”

She followed his gaze to her phone, facedown and turned to silent, but vibrating with incoming messages.

“I’ve been reading, not responding. My social feeds are on fire. In times like this, you find out very quickly who your real friends are.” A handful of clients were ready to die on a hill defending her. Others were asking about terminating their contracts. “Bea and Clare have asked me to call when I can. They won’t judge, but I don’t know what to tell them. The rest of the office is used to being left in the dark with certain clients or actions we take on their behalf. They’re reaching out with thoughts and prayers, but I can tell they’re dying of curiosity, wondering if this is a stunt or if I’m really this stupid.” Her hand shook as she dolloped cream into her coffee. “Our competitors are reveling in my hypocrisy, of course, crossing professional lines when I’m usually defending victims of such things. They’ll dine on this forever, using it to tarnish London Connection’s integrity and my competence.”

“London Connection won’t be impacted.” Luca’s expression darkened. “I’ve set up the transfer. That will keep things afloat until you’re able to right the ship.”

“I told you not to pay me.” She clattered her cup back into the saucer, spilling more coffee than she’d tasted. “I won’t accept it. Taking money for this makes me feel cheap and dirty and stupid. Don’t make me refuse it again, Luca.”

He set his own cup down with a firm clink while he spat out a string of curses and rose to pace restlessly. “You did what I hired you to do,” he reminded Amy as he