Compromising Positions

“I was wrong.”

It was so far from what she was expecting that she swayed on her feet, her resistance unnecessary.

“Wrong?” It wasn’t smart to ask-there were too many ways she could be hurt by this woman-but she couldn’t help herself. She needed to understand.

“I watched you that night. I saw the pain on your face, and I felt guilty that I had put it there, but I didn’t regret it. But then…” Bianca’s voice broke, something Mina had never heard before, and it took a moment for her to regroup. “Then I saw Marco.”

“He struck his brother. I couldn’t believe it. Never, not through their entire childhood, did he ever raise a hand to Gio. Gio was brilliant, and stubborn, and enough to drive a saint to madness, but Marco knew he was bigger and stronger.” She remembered something and laughed. “Oh they fought, cats and dogs those two, but it was never physical.”

“At first I thought it was temper finally catching up to him, Italian men are famous for it, but then I looked in his eyes. It wasn’t temper,” she looked at Mina, her face solemn, “it was fear. He was afraid of losing you.”

Mina swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, but she could find no words. She was stunned into silence by what she was hearing.

“That evening, after he figured out what Serafina and I had done, he turned on me as well. It was as if someone had replaced him with a caged animal, and at that point I was afraid of losing him.”

It was easy to imagine. Marco had always had something of the predator about him, but without something to stalk, without prey, what is a predator?

“So you lied to him.” The words were out before she could stop them. It was never wise to call someone a liar, especially someone like Bianca Genovese.

The woman didn’t seem to mind, though. She met Mina’s eyes squarely and nodded.

“Yes. I knew you would need time and space before you’d be willing to listen to what he had to say,” she said. “I know how it hurts when one you love betrays you, and you obviously felt betrayed.”

“And Marco was furious with you-blindingly, so. I didn’t realize until he explained later that you had walked away from him once before-yet another proof to me that you weren’t the woman I thought you were-and your leaving opened a wound in his pride that hadn’t yet fully healed. If he had found you that night, or even the next day, he would have yelled at you, pushed you harder than you could take. It would have ruined everything, so I sent him away. I pricked his ego, told him you never wanted to see him, knowing that would send him flying after you. Tale e l'uomo.” She gave a little Gallic shrug, as if the logic of it all was plain as day.

“Such is man, eh?” The voice from the doorway made them both jump. Marco stood there, barefoot and shirtless, jeans slung low on his hips and Mina’s was amazed again by how beautiful he was. “So it was all part of your plan? Send me halfway around the world, all the time knowing she was less than an hour away. Manipulating us, like you tried to manipulate me and Serafina? Didn’t you learn your lesson with that disaster?”

Bianca pulled herself to her full height and glared at her son.

“If it was a disaster and I was the cause, wasn’t it my place to fix it?” Her eyes glittered fiercely. “I wasn’t going to let you finish destroying what I had already damaged. So yes, I lied to you. I am not sorry, and I would do it again. It was for your own good, and I love you enough to suffer your anger if I know it will mean your happiness in the end.”

Mina’s head was spinning. She looked at the woman she’d blamed for everything and began to see her in a new light.

“So you don’t mind that I’m back?” Her bravery tanks were less full than before, but with Marco standing beside her she felt she could handle the answer.

“No, Mina,” Bianca said her name for the first time, “I am grateful you have returned. You hold my son’s heart, and with him is where you belong.”

Marco stepped up and wrapped his arm around her waist. He looked across the room at his mother, and Mina could feel the tension still in him.

“I hope that in time, you will come to understand an old woman’s motivations. I only wanted what was best for him.”

The fight had gone out of the matriarch and she suddenly seemed old and frail.

“Mamma,” Marco started but Mina cut him off.

“Signora, I think I understand now. I would do anything to make sure the ones I love are happy as well.”

Dark eyes searched hers, looking for something. She must have found it because she nodded.

“I believe you would.” There was respect in her voice for the first time. “I am glad for that.”

Marco refused to be kept silent.

“I’m going to marry her,” he announced, and he and his mother shared a silent conversation.

Bianca nodded. “I am counting on it.”

Married? Mina twisted in Marco’s arms to look up into his face.

“Whoa! Hold on a minute there, Casanova, haven’t you forgotten something?”

Marco’s grip tightened on her as she squirmed and he shook his head.

“No, Amore, I remember everything.” He looked down at her, a fierce love on his face. “I swore I’d make my dream come true, remember?”

Mina remembered. The ring, the baby, the promise. She also remembered what it was like without him, and she knew that fighting him would be fighting her own happiness.

“I remember,” she said, turning and giving a wink to his mother. “It’s just that a girl doesn’t like to be taken for granted.”

Bianca gave a rare smile and waved a hand at them.

“I will leave you to resolve this argument on your own.” She looked at Marco and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think even you are talented enough to screw this up.”

She closed the door as she left and Marco turned Mina in his arms. The quiet in the room was no longer a space between them, and Mina buried her face in his shoulder, wondering at how she’d ever made it to this point.

“So,” Marco started.

“So?” she asked, knowing the question but wanting to hear it.

“Will you marry me, bellisima mia? Even with my manipulative mother, my Galahad brother, and my terrible need to have you all to myself?” His voice was carefully undemanding, but she could see the hope flaring in his eyes.

Mina’s imagination filled in years of family dinners, of yelling and making up, of children and grandchildren, and she couldn’t imagine a better world.

“Well, given the situation,” she kept her voice low and serious, and then when she saw a wrinkle crease his brow she took pity on him, “yes! A thousand times yes!”

Marco let out a breath, relief clear on his face, and his arms tightened almost painfully around her.

“I thought,” he started but Mina cut him off with a kiss.

“That’s a bad idea,” she said, her eyes glowing mischievously. “No more thinking. We work better when we just go on instinct.”

She kissed him again, instinct telling her that he needed proof of her love as much as she’d needed proof of his. Long minutes passed, and when they came back down to Earth Marco grinned, his devilish smile taking her breath away.

“Instinct?” He swept her up in his arms and made for the door, his long legs eating up the distance back to their bedroom. “I can work with that.”

Mina dropped the clothes she’d been clutching all this time and flung her arms around his neck.

So could she.