Читать книгу The Flaw In Raffaele's Revenge - Annie West - Страница 9

CHAPTER TWO

RAFFA GOT TO the office after a breakfast meeting.

Across the large room he saw an unfamiliar figure—long hair, loose shirt, loose trousers and flat shoes. The clothes were resolutely unfeminine but the body beneath all that unflattering drabness wasn’t. Femininity was there in the way she moved, despite her rigid back and high shoulders.

It had to be Lily Nolan. The area was off-limits to all but his hand-picked team.

She’d been tense on the phone that night too. Uptight and angry, yet that husky, just-awake voice had done things to him no woman had in years.

He frowned at the unwanted memory.

Raffa’s eyes narrowed on the rhythmic swish of hair down her narrow back as she walked away. It all but reached her waist. Not blonde or black or even dark but simply brown. A brown so ordinary and unremarkable it looked uncompromising, as if she spurned most women’s desire to improve on nature with eye-catching colour.

He turned into his private office and took a seat, gesturing for his assistant to do the same. Through the glass walls he saw Lily Nolan talking with someone by the door to the conference room. Her body language radiated stress, right down to the fist clenching at her side.

Had he made a mistake bringing her here? He’d wanted her because of her talents, her often brilliant insights and her professionalism. He knew she’d go the extra mile to meet his needs.

But that night on the phone her obstinacy, the way she challenged him as no one else dared, had piqued his interest. He’d accepted her outrageous terms because every refusal she gave made him more determined to win.

The knowledge he’d acted on a whim had annoyed him ever since. He never allowed himself to be sidetracked. He’d got where he was by grabbing every opportunity to build his wealth and success. Even if some of those opportunities were unpalatable, they’d been necessary. He was never impulsive.

‘How’s our newest staff member fitting in? Any problems?’

‘No, nothing like that.’

Was that a flush on Pete’s boyish face? Raffa felt his eyebrows cinch together. The woman had been here less than a day. Surely she hadn’t seduced his PA already?

‘She’s hit the ground running. She must be jet-lagged but she’s already got acquainted with our set up here. Now she’s meeting the rest of the team.’ Pete swivelled his head towards the conference room, his gaze fixed.

Raffa realised it wasn’t adoration on his assistant’s face but something he couldn’t read.

‘Yet she makes you uncomfortable?’

Pete’s face mottled red. Embarrassment? Lust?

‘Of course not.’ The words tumbled out too quickly. ‘She’s very professional.’

Professional. It sounded like faint praise. Especially since in the past he’d overheard Pete laughing with the woman over a long-distance connection.

‘But?’ Raffa fixed him with a stern gaze. His policy was to remove problems the instant they arose. If this woman disrupted the smoothly oiled workings of his team he’d take action immediately.

Pete shrugged. ‘You know how it is when you know someone only from a distance. You build up a picture in your mind. The reality can be...different.’ He gestured abruptly to the tablet he carried. ‘About the review of the Hawaiian hotel. Will I bring that forward? You’d mentioned a snap inspection to keep them on their toes.’

Raffa surveyed his PA, reading his discomfort. It was probably as Pete said—the deflating reality of the first face-to-face meeting. But Raffa never left anything to chance.

He’d planned to leave the rebellious Australian alone today to get on with the job for which he was paying such an exorbitant salary. And he would—after he’d checked her out.

* * *

‘We’re busy wrapping up some other projects but anything you need on the legal side, let me know.’ Consuela Flores gave a brisk nod and smile from the end of the conference table and Lily felt herself sink back in her seat, a grateful answering smile on her face.

Among the group she’d be working with, the middle-aged lawyer had proved the easiest to deal with. Her severe demeanour, magenta power suit, expensive pearls and stiffly lacquered hair had made Lily wary. Here was an imposing woman for whom appearance as well as performance was important. Yet after a millisecond of silence when they met and that brief, predictable widening of the eyes, Ms Flores had treated Lily like everyone else around the table.

Lily had wanted to hug her for that.

This morning had been tough, every bit as difficult as she’d feared. Her hands were clammy, her chest weighted and her pulse still too fast. Forcing herself into the office had been a major test of nerves already strung out from the stress of travelling.

‘Thanks, I appreciate that. For now, though, I suspect it won’t be legal expertise I need. There’ll be a lot of digging first.’

Consuela nodded. ‘I’m glad it’s you doing the digging. Your reports for the Turkish deal made our work much easier. There’s nothing like heading into negotiations well-prepared, with no lurking pitfalls. Now you’re onsite we can touch base as anything arises.’

Lily’s smile grew, the clamp on her chest easing a little.

Only the knowledge she was up to this job, more than up to it, had got her across the Pacific, across the United States and into this building, when all she wanted was to lock herself inside her home and not budge.

She could do this, no matter how horribly far out of her comfort zone she felt.

No, she wouldn’t just do the job. She’d excel! Her work meant everything. It was the one part of her world where she had complete control, complete confidence.

Which made it all the more infuriating that she’d been nauseous with nerves today. Fronting up at the office was the most difficult thing she’d done in years.

See what happens when you lock yourself away all the time?

Now it’s you with the problem, not them.

Lily banished the voice in her head. She didn’t have time for self-doubt.

‘I’m looking forward to working with you too, Consuela.’

She darted a glance around the table. The woman from finance in retro-trendy glasses quickly turned her head as if she’d been watching the lawyer, not Lily. But she was too slow. Besides, the distressed twist of her lips, as if she felt ill, betrayed her.

Further down the table the guy from acquisitions flushed as Lily turned to him. Like Pete, Raffaele Petri’s PA, he found looking at her embarrassing. Beside him the older man from systems management didn’t even try, instead staring past her shoulder.

Lily sat straighter, determined not to be daunted.

Yet that didn’t stop the sick feeling in her stomach, or the churning memories of her previous forays into office work. Each one a disaster. Eventually she’d given up trying and decided to work from the seclusion of home.

The fingers of her right hand twitched but she repressed the urge to raise her hand to her face. It had taken years to cure herself of the habit and she wasn’t starting again now. No matter how exposed she felt before these strangers.

‘I appreciate you all making time to meet me on my first day. I’ll look forward to working with you.’

Liar!

‘I have a question, though.’ Lily looked to Consuela. ‘We all have different areas of responsibility, but is there a team leader? Without coordination we’ll have problems.’

‘That would be me.’ The masculine voice curled around her like warm smoke.

Her heart jolted and a prickling spread across her skin.

She’d only heard that voice once but its echo had lurked in her subconscious since, visiting in those moments between waking and sleep when she was most vulnerable.

Was that heat flushing her cheeks?

It couldn’t be. She’d spent half her life being gawked at. She’d lost the ability to blush in her teens.

Reluctantly she turned her head.

It was a good thing she was sitting.

Raffaele Petri’s face was known around the globe. Yet the photos hadn’t prepared her. Tall, taller than she’d expected with his Italian heritage. Wide shoulders, slim hips, long legs—the epitome of masculinity in its prime. Oddly his casual jacket and open-necked shirt emphasised rather than detracted from the power she sensed in him. He didn’t need a three-piece suit to stamp his authority.

Chiselled features that looked too close to perfection to be true. She’d assumed those photos had been airbrushed. Yes, there were crinkles around his eyes, as if from time in the sun, but perversely that only made him more attractive. Hair the colour of dark old gold, tidy but hinting at tousled. Enough to make her fingers twitch at the thought of touching. The hooded cast of his eyes looked languorous until you met that piercing blue stare.

Lily swallowed over a ball of sandpaper in her throat. Meeting his gaze was a palpable experience, as if he’d reached out and taken her hand. Sizzling heat ran through her as those eyes held hers—compelling, electric.

It wasn’t just that he was ridiculously handsome, she realised as she forced a slow breath out. He was...more. Even from the other side of the conference table she felt the crackle of energy, the sense he was a man who made things happen.

Unhurriedly he surveyed her, cataloguing everything from the hair brushing her cheeks to her face, her throat and down as far as was visible above the table.

The old resentment rose, that he should scrutinise her like some animal in a cage. Till she realised she’d done the same—taking in his appearance in minute detail.

The knowledge sapped her anger, leaving her winded as his gaze lifted.

‘At last we meet, Ms Nolan.’

* * *

So that explained it.

Realisation slammed into Raffa like a fist to the chest, so strong it felt like recognition. An unexpected hit of adrenaline.

But recognition implied a link with the woman on the far side of the table. That was nonsense, even if the memory of her husky voice and feisty attitude had intruded at the oddest times these past weeks. The pulse of energy he felt could only be satisfaction at getting to the bottom of his PA’s discomfort.

Lily Nolan’s long hair framed an oval face that should have been, at best, ordinary. Brown eyes, a mouth neither thin-lipped nor lush, an unremarkable nose. Beautiful she wasn’t, but she might have been pretty if it weren’t for the wide swathe of tight, shiny skin that ran from her temple down one cheek to her jaw.

Scars faded with time. How long had she had this? The colour wasn’t livid and she’d had plastic surgery. It must have been a hell of a sight before that.

Not a knife wound. He’d seen enough in his youth to realise no knife marked like this.

A burn? Some other trauma?

‘Signor Petri.’ That familiar voice stirred something unaccustomed that for a heartbeat distracted him.

He circled the table, arm extended.

She hesitated then pushed her chair back to stand. Her long, buttoned-up shirt fell loose around her slim frame. Again her choice of clothes hit him. A deliberate attempt not to fit in? To make the point she was here under sufferance? As if he cared what his staff wore so long as they did their work.

Her hand clasped his. Smooth and cool and small.

She just topped his shoulder in her flat shoes, tilting her head to meet his eyes. At the movement her hair slid back off her cheek, revealing more of that shiny, scarred flesh. But it wasn’t the blemish that drew his attention, it was the bright challenge in her eyes.

‘I believe this is where I’m supposed to say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Signor Petri.’

A gasp from the other side of the room reminded him of the staff still there.

Raffa held her hand in an easy grasp, not ready to let go.

‘That’s right,’ he murmured, bestowing a small smile. He’d won their little contest of wills and could afford to be gracious.

Yet he saw no softening in that stern expression, no easing in her rigidity. Not even a hint of response in those serious eyes.

Surprise flickered. It was rare to find someone genuinely unresponsive to his charm.

Lily Nolan grew more interesting by the moment.

‘It’s definitely a pleasure to meet you, Lily.’ He widened his smile just a fraction, lingering on her name. ‘I’ve been looking forward to having you here as part of the team.’

Silence for just a moment too long. ‘So I gather, since you went to such lengths to get me here.’

Another muffled sound came from nearby but Raffa didn’t turn. He didn’t care what anyone thought.

‘You were certainly elusive.’

He waited, expecting her to pull her hand from his. Instead she stood, unmoving but for the fine vibration coursing from her hand to his. She was wound up tight, bottling in strong emotion.

Yet her eyes met his directly, nothing but challenge to be read there.

This woman would make a hell of a poker player. She betrayed no hint of weakness or discomfort.

His gaze zeroed in on a minuscule movement at the corner of her mouth. For a moment he wondered if it could be the scar pulling at her mouth, till he remembered there’d been no distortion of her lips when she spoke. The tiny flicker of movement was what then? Her biting her cheek?

‘Did you want me for something now?’ She looked pointedly at their joined hands and Raffa felt amusement bubble. She was so patently determined to be unimpressed. So ostentatiously unaffected by his looks or position. Perversely he liked it.

How long since he’d done anything, gone anywhere, and been treated like an average Joe?

It was a novelty he hadn’t known he craved till a slip of a woman with muddy brown eyes looked at him as if he wasn’t anything special.

‘As a matter of fact, now is the perfect time to brief you in more detail about my expectations.’ He turned and nodded to Pete. Moments later his stalwart PA had emptied the room and closed the door on them.

If Lily Nolan was intimidated she didn’t show it. Her hand lay unresisting in his, as if making the point his touch was immaterial to her.

Who was this woman? She’d intrigued him from their first contact.

Raffa’s world and the people in it were predictable. Mostly they wanted something from him—reflected fame, an ‘in’ to the best circles, business opportunities, sex. Everyone wanted something.

Except this woman who didn’t want him at all.

Was that why she fascinated him? Because he’d grown bored?

Raffa released his hold. He had more significant things to concentrate on than the novelty of an employee who resented his authority.

Yet he admired the way she slowly slid her hand away, not snatching it, though he’d touched her far too long. Nor did she move back, but stood, taking stock as he did.

His eyes dipped to her loose, unattractive clothing. She’d gone too far with the dressing down, the not being just another cog in his corporate wheel.

Unless she dressed that way because the scar on her face wasn’t the only one. Did she have other injuries that made it uncomfortable to wear fitted clothes? The thought stirred discomfort.

Because he’d brought her here against her wishes? The idea was ludicrous. Whatever her problems, he wasn’t responsible for them. He employed her at an outrageously high salary and hitherto unheard of bonuses.

‘Take a seat.’ He gestured to the chair she’d vacated and sank into one beside it. He was determined to understand this woman. Then he could push her from his thoughts and get on with business.

She sat watching him, feet flat on the floor, hands clasped loosely. For all the world as if he, not she, was the one whose work had to impress.

Raffa felt his lips twitch. If ever he needed another negotiator on his acquisitions team he could do far worse than Lily Nolan.

* * *

Lily read that quirk of his sculpted lips and knew she amused him.

An icicle of frozen rage jabbed her side. She wanted to cry out but kept her mouth closed and her face calm. She’d weathered enough pity, horror, revulsion and sympathy to last a lifetime. A self-important tycoon who laughed at her because she wasn’t a perfectly tailored, respectful employee hardly mattered.

Or was he amused by how unfeminine she looked? His inspection had raked her from head to toe.

Remarkably, though he’d surveyed her damaged face his gaze hadn’t lingered longer there than anywhere else. Almost as if her scar were no more significant than the shape of her nose or the comfy shoes she’d grabbed rather than teeter in the unaccustomed heels she’d bought in a moment of weakness. As if a pair of shoes would transform her into just another office worker!

Not with her face.

Was that what amused him? The difference between his bronzed beauty and her marred features?

She swallowed hard, tasting sharp bitterness. She was jumping to conclusions. Raffaele Petri was selfish and ruthless. She had no proof he was shallow and cruel.

But the day was young.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone had used her as a foil for their own beauty. In her final year at school a couple of new girls had befriended her, both beautiful, blonde and bubbly. For the first time in years Lily had felt accepted and valued. Till she overheard them discussing how letting her hang out with them made people see them as sympathetic and even prettier than they were.

Lily shoved the memories away, drawing back her shoulders, imagining strength streaming through her spine and lifted chin. Whatever his game, she was his match. She might not be much to look at but she’d developed a strength of purpose few could equal.

Silence stretched but she refused to fill it. If this was a test of willpower he’d be disappointed.

Eyes the colour of the Pacific Ocean met hers, piercing as if reading her thoughts.

‘You’re settled into your office?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. Pete showed me around.’

To her horror she’d discovered the floor full, not of little rabbit-hutch cubicles where workers could hide from public view, but of spacious glassed-in offices that reduced noise levels but left everyone on show.

Worse was the fact her office was beside Pete and Raffaele Petri. The idea of working with this man watching her made something shrivel inside.

‘And your accommodation? It’s comfortable?’

Lily nodded. The size and luxury had overwhelmed her, reminding her she was a country girl, out of her depth in sophisticated New York. Fortunately jet lag had got the better of her last night before she’d had a chance to explore properly and feel like too much of a misfit. This morning she’d overslept and had to rush to get ready. All she’d really seen was the sybaritic black marble bathroom and the inside of her suitcase as she hunted for clothes.

‘Yes, thank you. It’s quite sufficient.’

‘Sufficient?’ His mouth kicked up in a smile that did strange things to her pulse, turning it from steady to riotous. It was bad enough when he’d smiled before. He’d looked so compellingly handsome he’d stolen her breath. But this was different—genuine, and more powerful for it.

‘What’s so amusing?’ She sat straighter.

His eyes zeroed in on hers and a fizzle of heat zapped her bones. ‘I’ve never heard my penthouse described as merely sufficient.’