Signed Over to Santino Page 17

  Setting her phone down, she turned. One of the things she’d quickly learned to accept was that Javier wanting what he wanted when he wanted wasn’t something she could change any time soon. Another thing she couldn’t change was her heart’s crazy leap whenever her eyes connected with his. The ferocious intensity of his gaze seemed to have acquired an even pithier depth lately, as if he saw beneath her skin, to every unsettling emotion she didn’t want him to glean. Carla wanted to believe she was succeeding in hiding her feelings, but a steady voice inside mocked her feeble attempts.

  He reached her and captured her hands. ‘Our guests are arriving.’

  The collective statement caused yet another shifting of her emotional foundation. Watching him, she silently despaired at how effectively his every word and look battered at her defences; how her heart seemed to live for just such a moment, when he looked at her as if she really mattered to him.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she finally managed when she could speak past the trepidation clogging her throat.

  His answer was to lift her hands away from her body, his appreciative scrutiny flooding her with idiotic pleasure. ‘Sí, you are. The gown is perfect on you,’ he stated with pure, male satisfaction.

  ‘Grazie,’ she murmured.

  The sleeveless red gown fitted her like a dream, a sleek confection of criss-crossed chiffon and silk that hugged her torso and hips and fell to her ankles in a gentle flare. She’d fallen in love with it the moment Javier had presented her with it this afternoon, despite the unease that had lanced through her at the thought that his claiming of her was attaining absolute proportions. His drawled observation that she hadn’t packed for the party and didn’t have time to go shopping had been meant to appease, except she’d glimpsed the barely concealed look of triumph on his face as he’d walked away after her acceptance of the gown. But even that hadn’t been enough to dim her enjoyment of the garment.

  The thought that she was escaping an oppressive prison for a gilded one made her heart lurch, until she reminded herself of the transient nature of her current situation. Pinning a smile on her face, she met his narrowing eyes. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘Not just yet.’

  Her eyes widened as he reached into his dinner jacket and pulled out a large, flat box. Before he opened it, she stepped back.

  ‘Javier, no.’

  A trace of displeasure gleamed in his eyes. ‘It’s my birthday, mi amante, you’re not supposed to refuse me.’ He opened the box to reveal a heart-meltingly gorgeous platinum chain from which a large teardrop diamond hung.

  ‘And you’re supposed to receive presents, not give them!’ For reasons she couldn’t fathom, the sight of the necklace seemed to compound her roiling emotions. ‘This isn’t necessary, Javier.’

  ‘I don’t do it out of necessity,’ he drawled. ‘Merely because it complements your dress. Feel free to return it at the end of the evening if you feel that strongly about it.’ He plucked the chain from the velvet and waited expectantly.

  With no choice but to argue, and keep their guests waiting, or give in gracefully, Carla turned around and lifted the newly styled fall of her hair. He secured the necklace, the cool stone resting between her breasts, then he stepped back. ‘Oh, one thing I neglected to mention.’

  She turned. ‘Yes?’

  He shrugged. ‘Sadly, now that you’ve worn it, it’s non-returnable. It’s not the vendor’s policy, of course, but my own. So you’re stuck with it.’

  Speechless, she stared at him, watched a dark, wicked smile break over his face. It heated her blood and singed her insides as he tucked her arms into his and led her from the room. She was searching for an adequate comeback when they reached the double doors of the great room.

  A different sort of trepidation hit her as she heard familiar voices. But that all changed when an additional voice sent her rushing in.

  ‘Maria!’

  The whine of the electrical wheelchair sounded over the soft background music as her friend turned at the sound of her name.

  ‘There you are. We were thinking of sending out a search party for you.’ Dark of complexion and as strikingly beautiful as her brother was handsome, Maria Angelis scrutinised Carla’s face with wide and shrewd eyes as she rolled forward.

  ‘You’re a little early. Not that I mind at all.’ Carla leaned down and hugged her friend, striving not to show the heartache that lingered at the edges of her interactions with Maria.

  Maria, once a talented figure skater, had suffered a crippling fall as a result of being pushed past her training capabilities by Tyson Blackwell. Unlike Carla, Maria hadn’t escaped with a simple broken wrist and a concussion. She’d severely damaged her vertebrae, resulting in permanent disability. It was the reason Draco Angelis had fought so strenuously to have Tyson Blackwell brought to justice.

  Her gaze lifted past her friend’s shoulder to see Javier shaking hands with Draco. The gesture was a touch tense, but Draco’s fiancée, Rebel Daniels, made a comment that had both men chuckling.

  Breathing slightly easier, Carla concentrated on her friend. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Much better now that bastard is on the brink of a long jail term.’ Maria’s voice held satisfaction and the same iron-hard will that had seen her through intense rehabilitation and eventual acceptance of her situation. It was the same will that had bolstered Carla when she’d been met with resistance from her father and Tyson Blackwell. ‘Thank you for agreeing to press charges,’ her friend added.

  Carla shook her head. ‘No, thank you for standing by me when I needed you.’

  Maria quirked an eyebrow in a move acutely reminiscent of her brother’s. ‘Not sure about the standing part, but you’re welcome.’

  Shocked laughter barked out of Carla, and she leaned down and pressed a kiss to her friend’s cheek. Before she could straighten, Maria added, ‘Besides, if I could walk I’d be fighting you for your Spanish hottie. And that just wouldn’t be fair.’

  Unable to stem the blush that rose in her face, she stammered, ‘I’m not...he’s not—’

  She clamped her lips shut as the trio approached. Rebel Daniels smiled and enfolded her in a big hug, easing the constriction that had clamped Carla’s heart on seeing her.

  ‘Rebel, I owe you an apology,’ she started.

  A hand sporting a huge diamond waved her words away. ‘Bygones. For everything.’ She cast an eye at Draco, then Javier. ‘I know the fuller story about your father and Blackwell now, and I’m only sorry we didn’t nail the bastard before he did that to you.’ She nodded at Carla’s wrist. ‘But if you insist, I know how you can make it up to me.’

  ‘Oh?’

  She exchanged a bliss-filled look with Draco. ‘Come to our wedding. Draco tells me you’re out of commission for another few weeks. The wedding is next month. I’d love to have both you and Javier there. I kinda insist, actually.’ She grinned unashamedly.

  Carla’s lips parted; she had every intention of making an appropriate refusal. By then she had no idea where she’d be. She would either still be with Javier, or, more likely, freshly released from her sojourn in his bed. In neither scenario could she envisage herself in a position to attend a wedding—

  ‘We’d love to be there,’ Javier replied in easy, confident tones.

  Carla barely stopped her mouth from dropping open.

  Rebel’s breathtaking smile widened. ‘Great! Now, Javier, I hear you’re seriously into your tequila. Any chance of a slammer before the hordes descend on us?’

  The gaze he’d levelled on Carla after his shocking response to the wedding invitation lingered for another infinitesimal second before he nodded at Rebel. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Cut her off after one, Santino. I need her sober for the meeting in the morning with the wedding co-ordinator she insisted on hiring,’ Draco drawled with only a hint of exaspera
tion.

  Rebel made a face. ‘Just because you’re a drill sergeant doesn’t mean you get to opt out of your own wedding planning. You’ll sample the same amount of cake as I do, and weigh in on the china patterns.’

  ‘Go drink your slammer now, Arabella, before I embarrass us both by showing everyone here who’s boss.’

  Rebel laughed, but her cheeks flared with adorable colour as she hooked her arm though Javier’s. ‘Come on, Maria,’ she invited her future sister-in-law.

  Carla sensed Draco’s presence beside her as they watched Javier lead the ladies to the far side of the room where the bar had been set up.

  ‘Are you not interested in the tequila party?’ she asked the tall, dark man.

  ‘No. I’ve already had a preview of Javier’s tequila. It’s the best of the best, as usual. I’ve also seen the new bottle.’ His gaze reluctantly left his fiancée’s laughing figure to connect with Carla’s. ‘It’s an...interesting change from the original design. Anything I should know about?’

  She shook her head, and saw Draco’s gaze swing to her new loose, layered hairstyle. His raised eyebrow caused her colour to heighten. ‘I’m fine, Draco.’

  He watched her for several seconds, then nodded. ‘Santino tells me the situation with your father isn’t resolved yet.’

  Carla felt a touch of irritation. ‘You’ve been discussing me?’

  ‘His interest seems genuine, and I’m not about to argue with that. So, your father?’

  Pain lanced her heart. ‘It’s not resolved yet, but I’m handling it.’

  ‘Good.’

  She managed a wobbly smile before voices filled the hallway.

  Catering to the never-ending stream of guests meant Carla didn’t have time to dwell on Javier or whatever his interests were where she was concerned.

  She caught a brief reprieve when the DJ cranked up the music and the guests flooded to the dance floor. She skimmed the room and caught sight of Javier engaged in conversation with two guests. About to glance away, she froze when his head snapped suddenly up and his gaze captured hers. Carla wasn’t sure how long she stayed in place, a prisoner to his imposing regard.

  She jumped as a hand clamped on her arm. ‘Jeez, you two need to get a room. Or a whole resort. Whatever. Do me a favour and make eyes at each other later, okay?’ Rebel laughed. ‘I need to use the ladies’ room and I don’t trust anyone else with my fiancé. Dance with him until I get back?’

  ‘Um...’

  ‘Thanks! And tune him out if he starts with the overprotective big brother thing.’ She grinned at Draco’s narrow-eyed stare, then disappeared in the direction of the powder room.

  Carla stepped into his arms, her cast-bound hand on his shoulder as he led her around the floor. ‘I promise not to tune you out again,’ she stated.

  ‘You probably won’t need me for anything other than business matters from now on.’ He looked down at her, his imposing frame commanding her attention. ‘You’ve come a long way, you and Maria, and I’m proud of you. But I’m still a phone call away if you need me.’ His gaze swung over her head, to the side of the room where she could feel another set of intense eyes boring into her back as she danced with Draco. ‘For anything. Understand?’

  Tears prickled her eyes and clogged her throat. She managed a murmured ‘grazie’ before a firm hand seized her waist.

  ‘Mind if I cut in?’ came a hard voice.

  Another speculative expression crossed Draco’s face. ‘Not at all,’ he drawled before he relinquished her and struck off in search of his fiancée.

  ‘Once again I find you dancing with a man who is not me,’ Javier stated through gritted teeth. Dark eyes scoured her face, then his mouth flattened in a harsh line before she was jerked against him. ‘And you’re on the verge of tears.’ His snarl held a touch of bewilderment. ‘Know this now, querida, my progressive attitude has its limits.’

  Carla sighed, the need to throw her hands up in surrender weighing her down. With each moment that she’d acted as his hostess, each moment his gaze had met hers across the room tonight, she’d known she was fighting a battle she was doomed to lose. Whatever feelings she was developing for Javier, they wouldn’t be easily discarded once he was done with her. Which meant that even as she gloried at being in his arms right now her foundations were fracturing, the tsunami of pain gathering strength somewhere beyond her sight and reach.

  ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you invited him here to test me.’

  His nostrils flared. ‘I didn’t. But those tears aren’t very reassuring, and I find myself in dire need of reassurance.’

  Her breath hitched. Swaying close until their torsos met, she spiked her fingers through the silky hair at his nape and gripped tight enough to get his attention. Dark eyes clashed with hers and, throwing caution to the wind, she let her naked emotion show. ‘What do I need to do to prove that I want you? Only you?’

  His pupils dilated, his chest rising in a shuddering breath. ‘I’m sure you can think of something.’

  In the end there was only one way to prove herself, one language they both understood. In the early hours of the morning, when every last guest had been wined and dined and sent on their way, she kissed her way down Javier’s lean, powerful body and revelled in the shudders that shook his frame.

  Mounting him, she took him deep inside her, watched him fight his control for an age before he finally roared his release. Catching her to him, he murmured thick, incoherent words in Spanish. And she...barely stopped herself from saying words that had no place in what was happening between them. Clasping her arms around him, she held him tight till he drifted off to sleep.

  Only then did she reach for her phone to read the message she’d returned upstairs to find waiting for her.

  Funds received. If you want to know what happened to your mother come home. But come alone.

  * * *

  Javier told himself it was tiredness casting the shadows in Carla’s eyes. He even managed to believe it for the better part of a week. She smiled when he walked into the room, engaged him fully and attentively in conversation, and lost herself completely in his arms each time desire whipped sharp and urgent between them.

  But something was wrong. Her laughter wasn’t quite as carefree and a fleeting expression of panic crossed her face when she thought he wasn’t looking. Most telling of all, she’d begun to catch her hair up in that blasted knot again. Javier was certain she wasn’t aware she was doing it. Each time he’d reached out to free it, she’d looked surprised. And a touch alarmed.

  He gritted his teeth and tossed his pen onto his desk. Swivelling in his chair, he stared out at the New York skyline, wondering if geography was playing a part in the general sour mood he found himself in today.

  After her last X-ray her doctor had agreed to remove her cast and replace it with a tensor bandage. She’d also conditionally freed Carla to work, and she’d wholeheartedly thrown herself into the tequila shoot. The test shots strewn across his desk were already perfect. He turned back and stared at the photos.

  Dios, she was breathtaking. The pale gold skater leotard and gold-hued tights gave the illusion of her being nude, with the exception of the gold ice skates adoring her feet. Stunning green eyes, made up to deliver a sultry look, stared straight into the camera...into him...her legs parted wide enough to frame the life-size bottle as her fingers gripped its neck.

  The results surpassed his every expectation. She was sexy, provocative enough to guarantee a mega-successful launch. The creative director had proclaimed herself happy with her so far and had progressed to the ice-skate shoot. In another forty-eight hours, the shoot would be over.

  She would be back in New York with him. With her eyes still shadowed with emotions she was determined to hide from him.

  Snarling a curse, he reached for the phone.


  She answered on the second ring, with the same breathy excitement she’d met him with when he’d flown back to Miami at the end of each working day. Each time he’d hoped the shadows would be gone. Each time he’d looked deeper and found they’d grown.

  ‘Ciao, Javier.’

  ‘I have your test photos on my desk,’ he said as a starter, because he didn’t want to be met with a patently false nothing when he asked what was wrong.

  ‘And?’ she asked, a thin thread of dread lacing her voice.

  ‘They’re good.’

  Her laughter held a tinge of relief. ‘Just good? Jemma must have been exaggerating then when she said you loved them?’

  He relaxed in his seat, a knot of tension unravelling from his shoulders. ‘Fine. They’re great. How did the practice shoot go?’

  ‘I’ll let you be the judge of it. I detest watching myself on video. And there wasn’t much actual skating involved. Just a lot of simulated moves and posing.’

  Javier refrained from mentioning he had a copy of it awaiting his review on his laptop. He wasn’t exactly sure why he hadn’t been able to bring himself to watch it yet. ‘You’ll get my verdict soon enough,’ he prevaricated.

  ‘Are you on your way home?’

  He heard the careful anticipation laced with the tiny trepidation and his fingers tightened around the phone. The urge to batter her defences, demand to know what she was hiding, powered through him. But he couldn’t fight this battle. Not just yet.

  ‘No. Not tonight.’

  ‘What...umm...why?’

  ‘My father got in touch. I guess the waiting game is over. I’m flying to Spain tonight.’

  Silence punctuated by her soft breathing flowed over him. Javier wanted to demand her every thought, her every need. But he kept silent.

  ‘How long will you be away?’ she finally asked.

  ‘Two days, three at the most. He has no bargaining chips remaining.’ And he intended to drive that message home should his father decide to indulge in another useless ego trip.