Читать книгу Signed Over To Santino - Майя Блейк, Maya Blake - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

CARLA’S STOMACH HOLLOWED. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

He didn’t answer for a minute. Instead, he strolled to the single window that let in bright sunlight, glanced out for a moment, then turned.

If anything, his silhouette was even more formidable, his almost god-like stature drawing her gaze to his captivating frame.

‘The reason you were chosen to be the face of the J Santino luxury line was because you’re an expert at blending the illusion of innocence with ruthless ambition.’

‘If there’s a compliment in there you expect me to thank you for, I’ll need a moment or two to think about it,’ she replied.

The haloed outline of his shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘The results speak for themselves. Or at least they used to.’

‘Is there a point to all this?’

‘Your choices lately have been...disappointing, to say the least.’

‘My choices?’

‘You dragged out your negotiations with Draco Angelis’s agency until he threatened to walk away. I’m guessing you realised, almost too late, that playing hard to get with him would get you nowhere? Then you insisted on associating yourself with a trainer whose reputation should’ve made you stay well clear of him.’

Carla swallowed hard against the need to tell him why. But she could see no way to set the record straight without pointing a direct finger at her father. And in a way, hadn’t she also been at fault for desperately clinging to a familial bond that was only in her mind? ‘My last trainer retired. Tyson Blackwell was only supposed to be temporary—’

‘He was known to push his trainees too hard. You should’ve had nothing to do with him,’ he cut across her.

Her breath shuddered out. ‘I didn’t want to. My father made a deal with him without my knowledge,’ she muttered.

Disapproval vibrated off him. ‘Then you should’ve hired someone else.’

She wanted to blurt out that she’d said the same thing to her father, instigating yet another row. A row during which she’d discovered she had no choice but to work with Blackwell because there was no money to hire anyone else. A row that set in motion a series of disagreements that still remained unresolved. Ones she wouldn’t be able to brush under the carpet this time, even though it meant facing the hard truth—that her father loved the prestige and financial reward she brought him much more than he loved her.

Staunching the anguish before it bled into her voice, she replied, ‘We both know why you pursued me to sign with you. So why are we having this conversation?’

‘Because aside from our impending private matters, your father made an excellent case on your behalf by convincing me you were a good bet.’

‘Wasn’t it the other way round? Didn’t you pursue him because you convinced him you were a good bet for my image?’

‘Is that what he told you?’ he enquired silkily, his tone taunting.

She pursed her lips and glanced away. When her fingernails cut into her palm, she forced herself to relax her fist. For the past few months, ever since she had broached the subject of untangling her father from his active role as her manager, their relationship had grown more strained than ever. Tensions had increased until an argument last month when he’d branded her ungrateful and irresponsible. Carla hadn’t fooled herself into thinking the haggard look her father had worn in the past few weeks had anything to do with familial concern for her well-being. Time and hard lessons had taught her otherwise. But she hadn’t known the reason behind her father’s almost visceral reaction to her wanting to take a different path in her career. Not until six weeks ago, after the lavish charity event he’d given in their home in Tuscany. A weekend where her eyes had been opened in more ways than one.

Carla steeled her heart against the pain she’d never managed to suppress. Appearances were everything to Olivio Nardozzi, enough for her to know she was nothing but a meal ticket to the man who had raised her. Any threat to the lifestyle her father believed was owed to him had been disposed of with ruthless efficiency the moment Olivio became aware of his daughter’s exceptional talent.

It was the reason her father had relinquished control to her when she’d come of age, but had legally tied up his role in her career as her manager. Twenty-one and reeling from her mother’s sudden death, she’d fooled herself into thinking that the working collaboration with her father would ease a relationship whose foundations had been decimated when her mother had walked out on them both when Carla was ten.

With the passage of time, Carla had been prepared to forgive the fact that he’d chosen to tie her in knots professionally at the moment when she’d been most vulnerable. She’d chosen to believe that, somewhere deep down, her father had loved her mother and was reacting just as strongly to her death. What she couldn’t forgive was her father cunningly plotting three years later to cement a lucrative business association by attempting to marry her off to Draco Angelis.

Willing calm into her body, she lifted her gaze as Javier paced closer. ‘So you’re here to do what exactly? Ensure I toe some sort of line set by you?’

‘Among other things, I intend to ensure this...’ he touched a hand to the wound dressing above her right temple ‘...and this...’ a drift of his fingers over her cast-bound wrist ‘...don’t happen again.’

Carla gritted her teeth against the heat dredging through her. On top of everything else, she didn’t need the reminder that this man’s touch elicited the most decadent sensation inside her. She jerked her arm away, hiding the twinge of pain in her wrist. ‘Please don’t touch me.’

His fist balled for an unguarded second before he dropped his hand. She didn’t need to look up to know she’d succeeded in angering him further. ‘Your co-operation in seeing to your own health would help matters proceed smoothly. And please look at me when I’m talking to you.’

A childish urge to refuse surfaced. Reluctantly she raised her gaze, squashing the electricity that fizzed through her when his eyes locked on her. ‘As I told you, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Once I’m back home in Tuscany—’

‘You’re not returning home.’

She frowned. ‘Of course I am. It’s my home.’ Albeit a home that felt more like a museum and her father’s way of congratulating himself for what she’d achieved. But it was the only home she had left, and the only thing standing between her and losing that home was her contract with Javier.

‘In Tuscany, the nearest adequate medical facility should you need one is over sixty miles away. You were lucky this time that there was an air ambulance nearby when you fell. Tempting fate again is unwise. Besides, I want you where I can keep an eye on you.’

‘Fine, I’ll stay here in Rome. I can rent an apartment here—’ She stopped speaking when he shook his head.

‘No. New York or Miami is a much better option.’

‘For you, you mean?’

‘Of course. As much as I love your fair city, I have an important launch in a few weeks that needs my attention. I can’t hop on a plane whenever you make an unfortunate choice. Besides, you were contracted to be in New York for your sponsorship duties sooner rather than later. And before you trot out an excuse about talking to your father, I already have. He’s agreed.’

Bitterness dredged her insides. As much as she wanted to vocally condemn her father, she kept her mouth shut. Doing so would only hand Javier further ammunition against her. She would deal with her father later. ‘So do all your clients get this special attention from you?’

‘No, querida, I reserve this for ice princesses who believe they’re above the mores that govern normal human beings,’ he drawled.

‘I don’t—’

‘Save the denial. I have first-hand experience of the way you operate, remember?’

The accusation stung deep. Licking dry lips, she shook her head. ‘That was a long time ago, Javier. What happened three years ago...that wasn’t me... I shouldn’t have—’

His hiss of anger stopped her words. ‘Stop before you dig yourself in deeper. Our association only requires you to recite rehearsed lines and act as if every J Santino product you endorse is as essential to you as the air you breathe. And when you’re healthy enough, that is exactly what you’ll do. In the meantime, keep pretending you’re the perfect creature the public perceives you to be. But when we’re in private, do me a favour and spare me the lies. I find it demeaning and frankly embarrassing.’

The rock that had lodged itself in her throat with each harsh word from his lips almost prevented her from speaking. ‘Is your ego so badly bruised that you can’t put what happened between us behind you? And don’t pretend you’re here just to protect your investment. You have over a thousand employees and a team of lawyers who could’ve relayed your instructions as effectively as you. You didn’t need to fly all this way just to...’

‘Just to what?’ he invited smoothly, his tone almost bored as he flicked a non-existent speck off his sleeve.

‘Can you tell me honestly that you don’t want to make me suffer for being the only woman who didn’t fall for Javier Santino’s world-renowned machismo?’

A careless shrug. ‘Why would I be bothered about machismo when you fell so readily for something far more...earthy? Much more satisfying?’ he taunted.

Her face flamed, memories she couldn’t stem rushing to the fore. ‘If it was so satisfying, then why do you hate me so much?’ she blurted before she could stop herself. Carla berated herself for asking so obvious a question. She knew why he hated her. Still on shaky ground after her first full-on rebellion against her father, she’d fallen headlong into Javier’s arms. Only what she’d imagined would be a casual encounter had been much more. So much more that she’d been reeling the morning after, desperately aware that what had happened between them was in no way a casual fling. She’d deliberately stricken the heart of his pride, the almost self-destructive trajectory she’d set herself on seemingly impossible to veer from. It wasn’t a moment she’d been proud of.

‘Hate is a useless emotion, one I don’t waste my time practising. Self-respect on the other hand, especially when it reflects on my reputation, is of paramount importance to me.’

She frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You may have the public fooled, chiquita, but we both know you have no shame. Throwing yourself at a man who doesn’t want you is one thing. Throwing yourself at a man who is engaged to another woman is a different matter entirely. I didn’t delegate this trip because you need to be made aware of the consequences of a scandal should you choose to be so unwise as to keep pursuing Angelis.’

Carla flinched. ‘Draco? I’m not pursuing him. I haven’t done anything wrong...’ She trailed off, the look on Javier’s face inviting her to not bother.

‘Are you implying that the pictures of you on social media actively throwing yourself at him at your father’s charity event six weeks ago were fake?’

Flames of guilt lit her insides. ‘It wasn’t what it looked like...it didn’t mean anything.’ Draco Angelis was the brother of her best friend, Maria Angelis, and the big brother she’d never had. Sure, at one very brief point during her teenage years she’d fancied herself infatuated with him, and had even used him to protect herself against unwanted male advances a few times. Six weeks ago, with her budding resolve to take a more active role in her life and career still shaky, she’d leant on him more than perhaps had been wise.

Luckily he’d understood and hadn’t held her less than stellar behaviour against her, and neither had his fiancée, Rebel Daniels. Watching Javier’s expression, she knew he wouldn’t be as accommodating of her explanations.

‘Things are never as they seem with you, are they?’ he confirmed.

Suddenly weary, she sagged against the pillow, her head beginning to throb. ‘Think what you will. I don’t need to justify my private life to you. If you’ve finished saying what you came here to say, please leave.’

Silence greeted her response. She didn’t need to look at him to know his gaze would be heavy with anger and condemnation. ‘Agree to return to New York with me and I will.’

‘You make it sound as if I have a choice. Isn’t this part of your grand revenge scheme?’

‘Perhaps it is. But I’m happy to delay what comes next. As long as I get what I want.’

Carla sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Sì. You win. New York. Rome. I don’t really care. Just leave me in peace for now, if you can bring yourself to.’

* * *

Javier stood looking down at her. The soft, delicate arch of her lashes fanned against her cheek as she kept her eyes closed. Her complexion was alarmingly pale, and he experienced a twinge of guilt for wearing her out when she needed to rest. A second later, he pushed the feeling away. He of all people knew just how Carla Nardozzi’s outwardly delicate frame hid a core of icy steel. She hadn’t risen to number one in her chosen profession by being a wilting flower, no matter how much she outwardly projected an air of shy, innocent fragility.

His jaw clenched as he recalled that her innocence had been real once upon a time. But it had been ruthlessly sacrificed on the altar of what she’d wanted more—the attention of Draco Angelis.

Some men collected virginities as trophies. He’d never been one of them. But his preference for a more experienced bed partner had abandoned him the moment he’d met Carla Nardozzi three years ago.

He gave a grim smile. A lot of things had abandoned him during those insane few weeks, including his common sense.

High from closing the deal of a lifetime that had seen him propelled into the echelons of world richest the week before his thirtieth birthday, he’d thrown a series of lavish parties in his homes across the world, the wildest and most decadent of which had culminated in Miami, the place he called his true home.

The place he’d experienced Carla.

Javier jerked himself from the memories. The reminder of the gullible idiot he’d been in the days following raked rough and jagged over his senses.

Never again.

It took several minutes to realise she wasn’t deliberately ignoring him and feigning sleep. Carla had truly fallen asleep, her breathing soft but deep, the lines of exhaustion he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge now smoothing out on her face.

He stepped back from the bed before another guilty twinge lanced him. He’d come to reiterate the message he’d delivered to her in his office a month ago. Standing there watching her sleep—her perfect face relaxed and enthralling—was an inane exercise.

About to turn away, he paused as a niggling thought impinged. It was the same sensation he’d experienced when she’d turned up in his New York office to sign the contract.

Despite her spirited words just now, an air of apathy surrounded her that seemed at variance with the woman whose ambition had made her competitors cow before her on the ice rink. Magnificence like that didn’t happen overnight, and Carla Nardozzi was known for her indefatigable dedication to her discipline. And yet, she’d seemed a shadow of herself during their meeting in New York. It was that inkling of ennui he’d sensed that had propelled him to get a rise out of her...by kissing her.

It was what was stopping him leaving the room right now.

Having never experienced such an emotion, Javier wasn’t sure how to deal with it. And not knowing how to deal with a problem wasn’t a scenario he readily accepted.

He told himself it was the reason he was sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room, watching Carla sleep two hours later. After all, he was a firm believer in confronting an issue before it grew out of hand.

He’d confronted the man he’d been told was his father when he was seventeen. And again when his mother had died. Both times the results had been traumatic enough to fell a lesser man. He’d chosen to absorb the experiences as the hard lessons he’d needed to forge his path in life. So what if being termed a bastard by the man whose blood ran through his veins had left an imagined hole in Javier’s life for a long time? He’d learned with time that he could live without the soft trappings of family and endless entanglements of relationships that were, more often than not, fraught and tedious. The ideal family life he’d envied from afar as a child had proved to be nothing more than a cluster of blood relations fighting over what remained of a once prestigious aristocratic name.

He’d achieved more in his lifetime than his so-called ancestors had managed in several generations.

But the rejection still hurt...

Javier shrugged tense shoulders, ferociously denying the voice in his head, and looked up as Carla murmured in her sleep.

Clinically, he examined her, forcing himself to assess what had drawn him so inexorably to her. She certainly wasn’t his type. Slim and far too delicate where he preferred his women curvy and vivacious.

Yet, from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d been captivated by the combination of ethereal beauty that comprised silky caramel-streaked chocolate hair, vivid green eyes and a figure that begged for masculine hands, his hands, to mould and possess.

And despite everything that had happened—her deliberate, callous insults and her flaying rejection the morning after their passionate night together—he couldn’t help the rush of heat to his groin as he lingered on her full mouth and the steady rise and fall of her breasts.

He surged to his feet, disgusted with himself for ogling a sick, bedridden woman.

But Carla Nardozzi wasn’t just any woman. She epitomised the very thing that Javier had struggled all his life to effectively deny.

She’d rejected him because he hadn’t been good enough. Not once, but twice, she’d looked upon him as if he hadn’t been worthy to address her.

The family he didn’t want or need had been allowed to get away with treating him like that.

She would not.

And before their association was over, he would make sure she took back every dismissive word, every scathing look and gesture she’d spurned him with.