Signed Over to Santino Page 4

‘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 be
fore 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.

  CHAPTER THREE

  EVEN BEFORE CARLA came fully awake, she knew he was still there. His presence was too oppressive, too hyper-intense, to dismiss.

  Thankfully, her headache had lessened, and, even though her broken wrist throbbed, Carla felt much better and in control of herself than she’d been a few hours ago.

  So she opened her eyes, and glanced at the occupant of the armchair.

  Javier was asleep.

  That in itself was shocking enough to observe—the man was larger than life, a demigod who surely didn’t require the rejuvenating needs of mere mortals. But it was the transformation that had overcome his face that made her eyes widen. That made her stare shamelessly.

  His arms were flung over the sides of the chair, his long legs splayed in front of him. The position offered an unfettered view of the stunning landscape of his body. Powerful taut thighs tapered to lean hips and a trim waist before veering up to display a torso that would’ve made any athlete proud. His deep chest and broad shoulders rose and fell and his slightly relaxed jawline drew attention to the stubble that had grown in the hours he’d been here. Almost reluctantly, her gaze traced his face.

  Sinfully gorgeous, Javier’s features had always been a subject of acute fascination for her and this time was no exception, despite his less than formidable demeanour in repose.

  Heat dragged low in her belly as she recalled what that mouth had done to her, what she’d begged him to do to her during that mad, reckless night in Miami.

  He’d fulfilled her every wish, and more, with an intensity that had sent her running for cover in a blind panic the next morning. Carla had known that Javier was bad news for her. His healthy sex life and reputation for strictly temporary liaisons with women hadn’t been a secret. She’d known even before she woke up in his bed that it was only a matter of time before he notched her name on his bedpost and moved on. Dio mio, she’d barely kept up with him during their night of passion, her inexperience blazing through every fumbled kiss and caress that had made his sensual lips twitch with tender humour. But it was the risk to her own emotions that had finally sent her scurrying.

  That had made her strike out before he’d got round to rejecting her first.

  ‘You stare at me with such fascination, it’s almost enough to make me forgot the horror on your face when you looked upon me once upon a time.’

  She jumped, her mind dragging itself to the present and to the ragged contempt in his voice. She forced herself to meet Javier’s gaze. ‘It wasn’t horror. At least not at you.’

  One sleek eyebrow lifted. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better, pequeña? That you were horrified with yourself for choosing me to be the man you lost your innocence to?’

  ‘Is there anything I can say that will make you stop condemning me for what I said the next morning?’

  The gleam in his eyes slowly hardened to merciless chips. Still splayed out in indolent abandon, he linked his fingers over his washboard stomach. ‘You told me sleeping with me was the worst mistake of your life. Of course with the benefit of hindsight I see that I was being used all along. But even if I hadn’t believed you then or found a way to excuse that insult, your behaviour since has proven your words to be true. Why should I believe that anything you say now isn’t just to save face?’

  ‘Save face?’ she said, confused.

  ‘Angelis is engaged to another woman, is he not? He’s made his choice and it wasn’t you. It’s natural you wouldn’t want the world to know how you truly feel about him.’

  ‘I’m not in love with him. I’m really not,’ she stressed when mocking disbelief draped his face.

  ‘Then why were you seen kissing him at your charity event in Tuscany last month?’

  ‘Would you believe me if I told you it was a mistake?’

  He surged to his feet in one smooth bound, a volatile emotion bristling from his large frame. ‘No. The fact is your obsession with him continues, and you don’t seem to be interested in the small matter of him being committed to another. You just want what you want, don’t you, Carla, and to hell with the consequences?’

  ‘No, of course I don’t. I’d never do that—’

  ‘But you did.’ He strolled closer, a predator stalking his prey, until he stood over her. ‘The evidence speaks for itself.’

  She shook her head, unable to believe she was having this conversation with Javier. ‘It’s obvious you’ve made up your mind about me. I said I’d return to New York with you. So why are you still here? I’m not exactly in the position to make a run for it.’

  A dark frown clamped his brows. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. ‘You fell asleep before I got your word that you’ll stay away from Angelis from now on.’

  Carla sat up gingerly and swung her legs over the side. The wave of dizziness that washed over her was blessedly brief. ‘He’s my agent. Avoiding him will be impossible. And counter-productive, don’t you think?’

  ‘You can and you will. Angelis has enough executives to ensure he has no personal dealings with you from now on. I’ll contact him myself to make sure the request is understood.’

  ‘Are you going to forbid me from letting him become my trainer too, which was his suggestion?’ She shook her head. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous. And you don’t wear it particularly well.’

  Deep, unamused laughter erupted from his throat, mocking her every word. ‘Don’t de
lude yourself. Scandal may sell newspapers, but my company has remained free of it up till now and I intend to ensure it stays that way. As for training you, we’ve agreed that it would be better if someone else assumes that role.’

  Her unhurt hand gripped the side of the bed. ‘You’ve been discussing me with Draco behind my back?’

  ‘I’ve been trying to minimise the impact of what’s happened—what are you doing? You shouldn’t be on your feet.’

  Carla swayed for a moment before she managed to steady herself. ‘I should if I want to use the bathroom. Or are you going to forbid that too?’

  A faint wash of colour highlighted his sculpted cheekbones and his lips pursed for a moment. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  She wanted to protest the ridiculousness of the whole situation. But she was too busy wincing as she placed her weight on her left foot. Too late, she remembered she’d landed hard on her hip. A second later, she was swung off her feet.

  The shock of the sudden action halted her breath for a second before she regained her senses. ‘What are you doing? Put me down!’

  ‘No. You’re in no fit state to be walking anywhere.’

  He hoisted her up, his steps sure and confident as he strode into the adjoining bathroom. Painfully aware of her dishevelled state, she buried her reddening face in his chest. And was immediately bombarded with the unique, undeniably male scent of him. The urge to take greedy gulps of him assailed her, forcing her to do the opposite and hold her breath as he slowly lowered her to her feet.

  Unable to stop herself, she risked a glance at him, to find his burnished bronze gaze on her.

  ‘Umm...you can let me go now,’ she ventured, her senses screaming at the electrifying grip he had on her arms.

  He frowned. ‘Will you be okay?’ he asked brusquely. ‘I’ll go and get the nurse—’

  ‘There’s no need. I’ll be fine.’

  He stared at her for a few more seconds. Then he carefully stepped back. ‘Don’t lock the door,’ he instructed.