Signed Over to Santino Read online

  She had well and truly reached a crossroads with her father.

  Carla forced herself to listen to the doctor’s prognosis. The state of her health was directly connected to her career. Despite the changes she intended to make, she needed to ensure her health remained optimal. The very roof over her head was dependent on it.

  ‘Your father mentioned you’re eager to return to training?’ the doctor disclosed once he’d reeled out his list of dos and don’ts. ‘Your next figure-skating event is in two months, I believe?’

  ‘Yes,’ she replied. It wasn’t a championship event, but an important one nonetheless.

  The portly man frowned. ‘I advise against any form of training for a few weeks. Two weeks of total rest if you heal fast enough. Four weeks just to be on the safe side before you begin any strenuous exercise. Your wrist on the other hand will need a little longer than that.’

  ‘What about publicity work—photo shoots and such? I have commitments to fulfil.’ Her contract with J Santino Inc. didn’t include lying about in hospital beds. She was surprised Javier hadn’t sent his lawyers after her already considering the stringent clauses in her contract.

  The doctor’s frown deepened. ‘I strongly recommend that you take at least two weeks without any stress on your body. After that, perhaps if you agree to engage private care—’

  Carla shook her head. ‘That won’t be necessary. I can take care of myself—’

  ‘She’ll have private care from the day she’s released. You have my word on that, Doctor.’

  Carla’s breath caught in her throat at the deep voice that preceded the sleek, powerfully built man who entered the room.

  So...she hadn’t been dreaming after all.

  Javier approached. From the top of his dark wavy hair to the tip of his handmade designer shoes, he commanded a formidable, absorbing presence that reduced the rest of the room’s occupants to mere spectators as his intense, dark brown eyes locked on her.

  Tongue-tied, she watched him approach with measured, self-assured strides until his broad shoulders filled her vision.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Her vocal cords, rough from disuse, rasped the words.

  Javier’s eyebrows arched, his gaze cuttingly cynical. ‘News of your terrible accident has been all over the media. Your adoring fans are camped outside the hospital. You think me so uncaring that I would stay away at a time like this?’

  His voice was smooth. Deep and warm and beautifully nuanced with inflections from his Spanish mother tongue. Mesmerising enough to disguise the vein of cruel cynicism to anyone but her.

  Carla heard it loud and clear. It cut right to the heart of her. But she refused to look away. Whatever Javier intended for her—he’d spent the better part of a year dangling the lucrative sponsorship carrot in front of her father just so he could get to her, after all—she would face it head-on. She’d spent far too long bowing her head down. It might have taken her the best part of twenty-four years to stand up for herself. But she was done taking orders from anybody. A part of her regretted that it had taken this long, that her actions might have caused ripples she’d never be able to reverse, but it was better late than never.

  ‘Thank you for your concern, but, as you can see, I’m in private consultation with my doctor, so if you’d excuse me?’

  A nervous throat cleared. ‘I’m sorry, signorina, but I understood from your father that Mr Santino was permitted to be here,’ the doctor offered.

  She forced her gaze to remain on Javier’s. ‘The permission wasn’t my father’s to give.’

  Tense silence descended on the room. Javier’s eyes gleamed, an almost unholy relish in the mahogany depths before one corner of his mouth lifted. ‘Are you suggesting the doctor throw me out, Carla? Or are you not up to dealing with me right now?’

  Her stomach hollowed, the unspoken threat in the words gnawing at her. ‘I’m up to dealing with anything. I just don’t think this is the right time or place. Perhaps you could come back later.’ Or never.

  His jaw flexed. ‘I could, but why bother? I think what the doctor was trying to say was that you need further rest when you leave here. In light of what’s happened, I’m prepared to suspend any commitments to J Santino Inc. until you’re well enough to commence your sponsorship duties. You’ll also have round-the-clock care by medical professionals.’

  The doctor nodded eagerly. ‘That’s a very wise decision—’

  ‘That’s very generous of you, but I won’t be needing your help with my recuperation,’ she bit out, hiding her shock that Javier would be prepared to go to such lengths to help her recovery. She didn’t doubt he had his motives for his overt generosity, but they were none she intended to subject herself to.

  She held her breath as he moved closer to the bed. She was forced to tilt her head up to look at him; her head swam as the magnitude of his persona hit her full force.

  ‘You may have forgotten the small print in the contract you signed, Carla, so I’ll refresh your memory. It included my company, and therefore me, being made aware of and taking steps to ameliorate any new medical issues that might adversely affect our agreement. You being out of commission for several weeks has the potential to reflect badly on our association. Unless I choose to be...magnanimous.’

  Carla managed to pry her gaze from the sensual mouth that dripped poison onto her skin. ‘I’m sorry that my accident inconveniences you.’

  ‘It’s unfortunate, yes, but I’m willing to work with you provided you don’t resort to stubbornness. Or perhaps you wish me to get my lawyers to pry that information from the hospital administrators?’

  ‘How dare you?’ she breathed.

  Javier’s narrow-eyed gaze flicked to the doctor and nurse who watched them with unabashed curiosity. ‘If you’ve finished, Doctor, perhaps I can speak to Miss Nardozzi in private? You have my assurance that we’ll reach agreement about the best way forward for her aftercare.’

  Carla’s heart climbed into her throat as the doctor nodded almost reverently before leaving, trailed by the nurse, who most unwillingly pried her eyes from Javier’s body.

  The moment the door shut behind them, the private hospital room shrank. Every inch of her focus zeroed in on the man who stood watching her in utter, dread-inducing silence, dark eyes piercingly intense.

  Slowly, inexorably, his gaze wandered over her, lingering in places that made her breath catch.

  She became hyperaware of the thin, insubstantial hospital gown and blanket that covered her body. The almost debilitating weakness in her limbs that had nothing to do with her health and everything to do with how this man made her feel just by being in the same room as her.

  It’d been that way from the moment they met, three years ago, in Miami. The weekend from hell was firmly engraved in her mind. A naive twenty-one-year-old, striking out against the rigours that battened her down. A dangerously captivating man who’d represented the exact opposite of the caution she should’ve exercised that night, he’d been like a blazing comet in her dark world.

  Except with morning had come the brutal realisation that she’d risked much more than her independence.

  ‘Suddenly you have nothing to say?’

  ‘I have plenty to say,’ she rasped through a painful throat. ‘But you seem to be in the mood to throw your weight about. I thought I’d just wait until you tire yourself out.’

  A grim smile chased across his lips. ‘Have you forgotten, cara? I don’t tire very easily. Especially when it comes to the things I’m passionate about.’

  Raw heat replaced the weakness in her limbs, firing her blood and making her head pound.

  He advanced a few final steps, and stared down at her. Then he reached for the water jug on her bedside table. Still keeping his eyes on her, he poured a glass of water, inserted a handy straw and held it to her lips.

/>   ‘Drink.’

  She wanted to refuse. But her throat hurt. She was beyond thirsty. And getting back on her feet as quickly as possible was imperative. She couldn’t begin to take control of her life from a hospital bed.

  She dropped her gaze from his imperious regard, and parted her lips. Sucking on the straw, she drew the cool water into her mouth and shuddered with relief as the soothing liquid assuaged her ravaged throat.

  He let her draw another mouthful, then he pulled the straw away. ‘Take it easy, you don’t want to make yourself ill again.’

  The sound that emerged from her throat felt blissfully less abrasive. ‘Your audience is gone. Please stop pretending you care about my health.’

  He returned the glass to the nightstand. ‘The state of your health is directly connected to the millions I stand to lose if you don’t meet the terms of your contract. Trust me, there’s no pretence on my part. Tell me what happened with your trainer.’

  Carla frowned as the unwanted memory sliced across her thoughts. She’d let her emotions get the better of her. Had refused to listen to her instincts even though she’d known training with Tyson Blackwell had been a mistake. Hell, her agent and friend, Draco, had warned her repeatedly about Blackwell.

  Further regret made her purse her lips. ‘He was a mistake that never should’ve happened.’

  The moment the words left her lips, she felt the blood drain from her face. It took a single glance at Javier to see that he was just as affected by the words.

  They were almost identical to what she’d said to him three years ago. The dark curl of his unbelievably sensual lips condemned her poor choice of words.

  ‘I... I meant—’

  ‘I’m well aware of what you meant. You seem to make a habit of collecting and leaving a trail of mistakes in your wake. You asked me what I was doing here. It’s quite simple, querida. It’s time to honour the promise I made to you a month ago.’

  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. Rel
uctantly 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—’