Читать книгу Awakening His Innocent Cinderella - Natalie Anderson - Страница 11

GRACIE BLINKED AT HIM, not sure she’d heard him correctly. ‘I’m not coming with you.’

‘It’s at the Palazzo Chiara,’ he added, as if she’d not spoken. ‘Have you seen the palazzo? It makes this place look minuscule.’

She’d seen Palazzo Chiara from a tourist launch on the lake when she’d first arrived. The humongous estate had been converted into an exclusive luxury hotel. The playpen of real silver screen heroes and beyond wealthy sheiks and oligarchs who paid literally thousands of dollars to stay for just one night. Villa Rosetta was the palazzo’s ‘little sister’, though frankly Gracie thought the villa held more charm. Apparently she wasn’t the only one—it was even harder to book a week here than a suite at the palazzo.

‘I believe it has an amazing view of the fireworks and the lanterns,’ he added softly.

She narrowed her eyes. He had listened in to her conversation with Alex. He’d been watching her for a while.

‘I can see the fireworks from the village,’ she said stiffly.

He might be the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but he had the inevitable flaw that came with such good looks and money—he was used to getting everything his own way. But this one time he wasn’t getting it. Even if there was that secret part of her that wanted him to.

‘You’re a tourist. Don’t you want to see what an elite party at a place like that is like?’

‘Full of “elite” people such as your arrogant self?’ she challenged bluntly. ‘It doesn’t sound all that.’

‘None are as arrogant as I am.’ His mouth curved and he put his hands on his hips.

Gracie narrowed her gaze. He was shameless at using his smile to his advantage. And his bare chest.

‘Think of it as another experience for your travels,’ he added.

She didn’t bother correcting his assumption that she wasn’t local. ‘So I should feel grateful for the opportunity?’

‘Most people would,’ he said, apparently without a hint of irony.

‘Unfortunately for you, I’m not most people,’ she said haughtily. ‘And I don’t want any other “experience” with you either. My mother warned me about getting into cars with strangers.’

Literally every day of her childhood her mother had warned her. She’d been so afraid they’d be caught. That Gracie would be kidnapped and taken from her.

‘But I’m no longer a stranger. You know who I am. I’ve even taken care of your bruised knee for you.’

‘What I know gives me all the more reason to say no.’

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Does my reputation precede me? What’s the worst I could do?’ His smile was so wicked. ‘I don’t think it would be that dreadful.’

The shift in him was like night from day. Suddenly he was charming and, darn it all, even more riveting. ‘Why on earth do you want me going along with you?’

‘Because it’s going to be boring. Having you there might make it less so.’

So she was to be light relief for him? ‘You want me to be your court jester? Or your pet Chihuahua?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘That’s not going to be a thing.’

‘Did you just refer to yourself as a dog?’

Her jaw dropped—then she snapped it shut. ‘I have a job to finish here.’

‘I think we both know your job here is done.’

‘For today,’ she said pointedly, lifting her chin. ‘I promised Alex. He’s old and he doesn’t deserve to worry.’

‘If he’s that old, doesn’t he deserve the freedom of his retirement?’

‘He loves these roses. Don’t you have something you love more than anything?’

There was a moment when a shadow crossed his face. ‘I’m not welded to one place, one thing and certainly not one person.’

She only just refrained from rolling her eyes again. ‘Well, lots of people are and what’s more they actually like to be. Alex has handed over the rest of the grounds to your new garden maintenance company who come from stupidly far away, but the rose garden was his design, his planting, all his work. It’s his treasure. He planted them for his late wife.’

‘On someone else’s property,’ Rafael growled.

How could he be so uncaring?

He watched her through narrowed eyes. Then spoke again. ‘If you don’t come with me, you can go and tell your Alex that he’s no longer needed to work here.’

Gracie gasped. ‘Are you holding his job over me to make me go to your stupid party?’

He smiled, tightly.

‘Wow. You must really be afraid of going by yourself if you’re resorting to threats.’

Now he actually laughed. ‘I’m not afraid to fight for what I want.’

‘And you’re not afraid to fight dirty.’ She gritted her teeth in the face of his partial nudity. ‘So you think the end justifies the means?’

‘Not always. But often.’

‘And you “often” bully your way into getting what you want?’

‘Usually I buy what I want,’ he replied carelessly. ‘But I didn’t want to offend you by offering you money.’

She flashed a filthy look at him. Of all the pompous things to say. ‘Why not just ask nicely?’

He sighed deeply. ‘Would you please go to the party with me? I’m new in town and I don’t want to walk in alone.’

She didn’t believe he was insecure for a second.

‘You want me to go with you, dressed in my wet skirt and bruised knee?’ She shook her head. ‘I’m going into Bellezzo to watch the festival on the waterfront.’

‘I can take care of your outfit,’ he said softly.

‘Excuse me?’

His grin was positively wicked and he leaned forward and scooped her into his arms again.

‘This is assault,’ she choked as she was pressed against all his hot naked skin. And muscles.

‘What? This is gentlemanly behaviour. I’ve rescued a damsel in distress,’ he countered as he marched through to a large living room. ‘The least you can do in return is gift me a few hours of your precious time. Now...’ He deposited her in a plush armchair and pointed to the corner. ‘What do you think of these?’

Gracie gaped at the two racks of women’s clothing. ‘You have a ready supply of evening wear for occasions such as this?’ She stared from the racks to him and back again. And then back at him because he was insanely fascinating. ‘You enjoy dressing women?’

Something kindled in his eyes and she instantly knew his unspoken answer. He liked undressing them.

He walked towards the racks. ‘They’re using the villa for a fashion shoot tomorrow. These are the dresses they’ll be modelling.’

A fashion shoot? Models? She turned to the hangers in horror. ‘I won’t fit into any of them.’

‘I’m confident we can find something suitable.’

She glared at his tone—catching his gaze raking down her body.

‘They’ll be worth a lot of money,’ she argued stiffly. ‘I wouldn’t want to damage one.’ Except there were some gorgeous-looking fabrics on those hangers.

‘If you want Alex to keep his job and keep his roses alive, then you’ll get into one of these dresses and come along for the ride. It’s only a party. I’m hardly proposing marriage.’

‘If it’s only a party, why can’t you face it alone?’ She straightened. ‘Is someone you’re afraid of seeing going to be there?’ She warmed to the idea, intrigued by his playboy reputation. ‘An ex?’

‘Not tonight I don’t think.’ He adopted a faux thoughtful pose. ‘Perhaps I need armour.’

‘From all your stalkers?’ She shook her head. ‘You’d swat them away like flies.’ No way was this man vulnerable.

He sighed again. ‘I already told you the reason. I’m easily bored. I’d like a distraction.’

‘You’re easily bored? I pity you,’ she mocked. ‘People with good imaginations never get bored.’

‘Oh, I have an imagination. Though right now it’s probably best if I don’t use it.’

She sent him a cool look.

‘So what’s your name?’ He leaned back, smiling at her hesitation. ‘I could call the police, you know. You are trespassing.’

Grimly she bit the bullet. ‘My name is Grace James.’

‘Grace.’ He held out his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

She couldn’t be churlish enough to refuse his hand when he’d been carrying her about the place for the last twenty minutes, but she wasn’t prepared for the electricity that shot through her the second her fingers clasped his. Quickly she pulled free, hiding her hand behind her back and clenching her fist to try to stop the lingering sizzling sensation. It didn’t work. So she turned to the dresses and started sorting through the hangers.

‘You’re my fairy godmother,’ she said with determined airiness. ‘I might meet an amazing man there.’

‘So you’re single,’ he said, while inspecting the second rack. ‘Good to know.’

She gritted her teeth.

‘I think this would suit you.’ He pulled a gown from the rack and held it up to show her.

‘It’s white.’ She glared at it. ‘I’ll have spilt something on it before we even get there.’

He laughed. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘It matters.’ With her luck it would be worse than a spill, she’d likely split the seam and she truly didn’t want to make even more of a fool of herself tonight.

‘You know you want to,’ he said softly. ‘Please.’

The man was an appalling flirt. As if he needed armour. There was no way this guy had any chinks. He had zero vulnerability. No, he was just a jaded playboy looking for light entertainment until his new batch of models turned up tomorrow. She wasn’t going to give him anything.

But she was going to go to the Palazzo Chiara and experience something she never ordinarily would—glamour, exclusivity. Because she was living life on her own terms now. She wasn’t missing out on anything.

‘Fine,’ she snapped, turning her back on the glittering smugness that instantly crossed his face. ‘Where can I get changed?’

Ten minutes later, installed in the most ornate and massive bedroom she’d ever been in in her life, Gracie wriggled into the dress. It had taken her eight of those minutes to absorb the sumptuous decor of the elegant room. Now she glared at her reflection in the large free-standing mirror. No way could she wear a bra beneath it. Worse, she wasn’t sure she could keep her knickers on either. The dress was so form-fitting her panty lines would be visible.

She blinked and wondered if she’d gone completely mad. What was she thinking by agreeing to this crazy idea? But, then, wouldn’t she be equally mad to pass such a chance up? She’d never been able to accept any invitations as a child. She’d never gone to a classmate’s house for a playdate, never walked into a swanky party as an actual guest...and she’d certainly never worn an eye-wateringly expensive designer dress like this before.

Breathing in deeply, she undid her bra and shimmied out of her undies, carefully putting them on the low armchair in the corner. This was one opportunity she was never going to get again, so she may as well go in braless and bold. Then she finger-combed her hair and twirled it into a low bun at the nape of her neck.

‘Are you dressed yet? We need to get going or we’ll miss the fireworks,’ he called from outside the door.

With an overwhelming sense of mortification she stepped out from the room and refused to meet his eyes. ‘I can’t wear this. It’s indecent.’

He was so silent she had to look up at him. He’d dressed in another tuxedo. How many did the guy have? Like the first, this fitted to perfection and was annoyingly gorgeous in the way it emphasised his lean, strong frame.

He regarded her for a full thirty seconds—so long she started to fidget with her watch strap.

‘It’s perfect,’ he finally said. Roughly.

‘It’s far from perfect.’ She looked down at the dress and put up her hand, self-consciously covering the neckline. ‘It’s pulling in all the wrong places.’

‘Right places. Very right.’

‘Because you like your dates to look—’

‘Beautiful. Of course. I’m not sure the watch works, though.’

‘Actually, it keeps good time and this Cinderella needs to keep an eye on it. I can’t be out past midnight.’

‘Because you might have too much fun?’ He reached out and lifted her wrist. ‘It’s old.’

‘It’s vintage,’ she corrected.

‘It’s a man’s.’

‘Yes,’ she muttered defensively. It was very precious to her. ‘An old man’s watch.’

He released her startlingly quickly. ‘Let’s go. How is your knee?’

‘Fine as long as I don’t try to run. I’m keeping the sandals on.’

‘Then I shall remain on hand as your long-suffering emergency support structure.’

‘Thank you, I so appreciate that,’ she cooed. ‘If anyone asks me what I’m doing there, I’m going to tell them the truth,’ she muttered.

‘Marvellous.’ He led her outside. ‘I expect we’ll have a ball.’

The car was low off the ground, red, polished to within an inch of its life and undoubtedly capable of screaming speed. She fastened her seatbelt.

‘I won’t be drinking, so I can drive home,’ she said primly.

Her plan to abstain wasn’t about driving but the insane attraction for him she was battling. If she had even a sniff of alcohol, she wasn’t sure she could control the reckless temptation that seemed to have materialised inside her at the mere sight of him.

He sent her a look. ‘Sure thing,’ he said blandly. ‘They’ll have some very nice champagne there, though. You might like to try just one glass.’

‘I’m not a risk-taker.’ Definitely not around this man.

‘Yet today you’ve trespassed on private property and are now going to a party in a borrowed designer dress with a man you barely know.’

‘In a Ferrari, no less.’ She nodded solemnly and braced herself for his no doubt reckless driving skills. ‘Most adventurous evening of my life so far.’

‘That’s...’ He glanced at her, but his brows lifted and he didn’t finish his comment. ‘Why don’t you take risks?’

Because she’d always had to hold back. Always been on the alert from years of conditioning, of watching over her shoulder and being cautious. But she had her safety plan figured out—she knew who Rafael was and Alex would call her in the morning if she didn’t look in on him. And the imp in her wanted to have fun for once. It would be an experience.

‘I struggle to open up and trust people.’ She stared, amazed as Rafael began to laugh.

‘Don’t look like that!’ She mock-punched his arm. ‘I’m serious. What you’re seeing is the new me. Opening up and delivering one hundred percent honesty. It’s liberating.’ She smiled.

‘The new you,’ he said, his smile not gone. ‘One hundred percent honesty one hundred percent of the time?’

‘Absolutely,’ she said fervently.

He roared with laughter this time. ‘No one is that honest.’

‘I am.’

‘Definitely not you.’

‘I am,’ she said indignantly.

‘Really? Could you be honest with someone even if you knew it was going to hurt them?’ he asked. ‘Isn’t it better to play it safe sometimes and protect someone’s feelings?’

That this guy thought about protecting someone’s feelings surprised her. ‘You’d actually protect another person’s feelings?’

‘Sure.’

So had he lied to her about how her dress looked? She just knew he had. ‘I bet you send flowers and jewels when you leave your lovers.’

‘That’s not generally a good idea,’ he said. ‘I prefer to leave them breathless.’

‘Oh, please.’ She rolled her eyes.

‘Well, you’re absolutely the kind of person who cares about someone else’s feelings, Ms I’ll-Water-the-Roses-for-the-Old-Guy.’

‘You say that like it’s not a compliment.’

He laughed again.

‘Not being honest hurts people more,’ she said with soft passion. ‘Because in the end the truth does always come out.’

He shook his head. ‘You’re so wrong. People lie and get away with it every day. Not just murderers. Cheats. Thieves. Everyday white lies as well.’

‘But it eats them up inside,’ she said softly. ‘Sure, you may never know that someone has lied to you, but the liar knows. And the liar suffers for it. Even if they think they don’t, they do. They’re weakened. Each lie breaks them down piece by piece.’

His gaze intensified on her. ‘Told a lot of lies in your lifetime?’

She held his gaze and her smile twisted. ‘More than you’d ever believe.’

And she’d been weakened by every one.