Giorgio looked away from me, refusing to meet my eyes. “He’s not feeling well, but I’m sure he’ll come to visit you soon.”
“Is he okay?” I tried to sit up, but my ribs weren’t having it. Reaching over me, Giorgio pushed the button for more pain meds.
“I hate when you do that,” I muttered, my eyes closing as the drugs took over. It seemed easier to sleep than to argue with him, so I didn’t fight it.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up. My mouth was dry and someone was holding a plastic box in front of my face.
“I need you to breathe into this tube,” Madelaine said.
I focused my bleary gaze on her and scowled. “Go away. Let me sleep.”
“Nope. Breathe for me and make the ball inside hit the mark, and we’ll get the paperwork started for your release.”
I did as she asked, coughing when she took the thing away.
She put a spoonful of ice in my mouth. “How’s your pain?”
“What pain?” I wasn’t feeling a thing.
Giving me a brief smile, she said, “You have a few hours before the doctor can clear you, so you might as well rest a little longer. I’ll send Mr. Acardi packing if you want him gone.”
“Will you marry me?” I asked. Apparently, I was still a little out of it from the meds.
Madelaine brushed a piece of hair off my face and smiled. “I didn’t figure you were really his fiancé. I prefer blondes or redheads, but your cute figure might make me change my mind.”
“What gave me away?” I asked, trying not to laugh. It would hurt too bad, and I didn’t want to deal with it.
“You call him tabloid bait. I’ve never heard you say his name.”
Yeah, that would probably do it. “Give me twenty and I guess you can send him in.”
Closing my eyes, I let myself drift under my warm blanket for whatever time I had until the pain meds wore off and Giorgio Acardi returned to plague me again.
I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. He made his fortune by taking control and getting things done. It shouldn’t surprise me that he’d done it with my medical care as well. I was still furious about him telling everyone I was his fiancé. It was a shame he was such an asshole. Assholes shouldn’t look as fine in a suit as he did. Or out of it. He looked edible in nothing but a towel and that thick dark hair made me want to do bad, bad things to him.
“I can arrange a private viewing whenever you want, love. It would be my utmost pleasure.” The male voice was low and raspy enough to send a jolt of pleasure through my core.
I opened my eyes and blinked, finding Giorgio sprawled in the recliner next to the bed. Instead of his customary suit, he wore a black dress shirt and worn jeans.
His dark eyes flashed with amusement and heat as he scooted closer and tugged the clip from his hair, sending it spilling past his shoulders in a stream of waves. Lord have mercy, the man had nice hair. I touched it, the silky black strands twining around my fingers making me shiver.
“I am so high,” I murmured. For some reason, I didn’t mind him hearing what I said. I planned on blaming the drugs.
“Yes, you are.” He leaned close, the brush of his stubble rasping against my cheek. “You might even be stoned enough that I can kiss you without you ripping my head off.”
“My mouth tastes like dog turds.”
“Ah.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tin of breath mints, then dropped one in my hand. “I hope this helps.”
“I’m still not kissing you,” I muttered, popping the mint into my mouth. “You’re trying to set me up for a photo opportunity.”
“No.” He stroked my hand and I hated that I found it soothing. “I haven’t seen a photographer in days. I suppose they find me boring now.”
“Having a dry spell?” I asked. “No overdressed wannabe trophy wives around to play with?”
“Hmm. No.” He slid the engagement ring over my knuckle, then brought my hand to his lips. “A beautiful pastry chef with a smart mouth has kept all my attention for weeks.”
Giorgio
I hadn’t intended to kiss her. Carlina had just woken up and was on medication and I had no business starting something we couldn’t finish. There was also the inconvenient fact that she didn’t like me. Her lips looked so soft though.
She tugged on my hair, pulling me close. Electricity coursed down my spine as my mouth met hers and I groaned. Carlina tasted like peppermint and warm, spicy woman, and I was desperate for more. I wanted to keep exploring her decadent mouth with my tongue, but she needed to rest. Letting out a sigh, I touched my forehead to hers.
“Sleep, beautiful.”
“I’m not moving in with you.” Her eyes closed and she laid her head back on the pillow.
“We’ll talk about it later.” I kissed her cheek and returned to the recliner to wait for the doctor to release her.
Her voice was still raspy from the fire and she snored. I was sure part of it was from the cocktail of drugs in her system, but it didn’t make me feel any better that she’d gotten hurt while caring for Antonio.
I didn’t know what to do about my brother. He refused to leave his room, even to eat. He blamed himself for the fire and nothing I said would convince him otherwise. Even the presence of Leonard in my house wouldn’t drag him out.
I’d brought Leonard home when he was well enough to leave the vet’s care at Aubrey and Chance’s house, hoping to get Antonio out of his room. To his credit, Leonard was very well behaved, housebroken, and had made a fast friend in Julie. She spoiled him rotten and he ate up the attention.
Unfortunately, even though it had been an accident and Antonio’s intentions were good, he was right. Carlina might be able to help, but I wouldn’t throw that responsibility on her shoulders while she was recovering.
Clyde and Julie were caring for her animals and keeping an eye on the contractors getting the place ready for renovation. I wondered if I ought to force Antonio to go out there and see that it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. I could use the excuse that the animals missed him.
I loved that Carlina could turn an accidental fire into something positive and start making plans for a brand-new commercial kitchen, even if she didn’t share her wishes with me directly. She’d have the best space money could buy, and there wouldn’t be an insurance claim. I’d nipped that in the bud when the adjuster came around to inspect the damage.
My architects and designers had created a kitchen any chef would love, which would more than triple her current space. Carlina would only need to pick out the fixtures and colors.
Her master bedroom was also going to be renovated to spread out over the additional square footage we’d create. She’d get a sumptuous en suite bath and a walkout deck with a sitting area and wet bar.
The true challenge would be matching the new construction to the Spanish colonial charm of the original cottage, but I was confident my staff would produce the perfect design. By the time we were finished, she’d have something even the most demanding client would be proud to own, and it wouldn’t have that revolting asphalt shingle roof.
She drifted off, her hand relaxing on her stomach. I stroked a piece of hair off her face and kissed her forehead before settling back into the recliner to watch her sleep. In a few short hours, I’d have her in my house where I’d be able to do this without any interruptions from nurses who didn’t care that I’d funded most of this wing of the hospital.
I’d have Madelaine fired if she wasn’t doing such a good job taking care of Carlina. Then again, if I had her fired, I could hire her to care for Carlina while her ribs healed up. I set the thought aside to ponder later and tried to find a comfortable position in a chair obviously designed for someone shorter.
It seemed like I’d barely slept when I felt a soft touch on my arm.
“Gio, wake up.”
I opened my eyes and scowled at Clyde. He held a pile of tabloids in his hand. “What’s up?” I asked, rubbing my face.
“Come outside. We ha
ve a problem.” He handed me a magazine from the top of the stack.
“Fuck!”
The cover photo was a somewhat younger Carlina in a white bikini that made my mouth water. The headline read, “Is this sticky-fingered pastry chef Giorgio Acardi’s new bedmate?”
I tore pages as I thumbed through the tabloid to the article. According to the piece of bird cage liner, Carlina had slept with her boss at La Panache and had stolen his recipes to ingratiate herself with Antonio.
“Get on the phone with Linsey,” I gritted out between clenched teeth. “I want this article buried.”
“Too late.” He handed me his phone, and I watched in horror as some fuckwit from TMZ ripped into Carlina for abusing a man with special needs.
Madelaine walked by, looking at us curiously and I grabbed her arm. “I have to go, but if you value your job, and any job held by anyone in your family, you will not allow Carlina to watch television or access the internet. Do you understand?”
She glanced down at the magazine covers and winced. “You got it. I’ll break her phone myself, but you need to fix this before she’s released, TB.”
I nodded and let her go, then went straight to my office. My first order of business was getting Carlina out of the hospital and into my house. Even with that bulldog of a nurse, she was too exposed.
The asshole at TMZ was next. He’d be lucky to get a job picking up roadside trash after I got finished with him. Then I started calling in some favors.
Jeremy Riggs, one of my rugby teammates, went straight into the Army Rangers after college and now owned a well-known security company that provided bodyguards to some of the richest people in the world. Although I’d never personally used his services, he was considered the best. That meant he was good enough for Carlina.
I pulled up his contact, and he answered on the first ring. “Giorgio Acardi, I was just thinking about you.”
“Oh?”
“Seems your new girlfriend has gotten herself into a bit of trouble. Have you called the police to have her arrested yet?”
Gritting my teeth, I resisted the urge to go to San Diego and rip Jeremy’s head off. “She’s Antonio’s caregiver, not my girlfriend. She also doesn’t like me and only took the job when I promised to stay away from her. Until the fire, I hadn’t seen her in three months, and she’s never once asked for money.”
The phone went silent and I frowned. “Jeremy?”
“I… Um…” Jeremy coughed. “Yeah, sorry. I…” He let out a sudden howl of laughter. “Do you mean to tell me there’s a woman out there immune to Gigolo Giorgio?”
Sighing, I rolled my eyes. I thought I’d lost that old nickname after graduation. “When you’re finished laughing at my expense, I need to find out who spread those lies about her before she carves me up with one of her cooking knives. I also need someone to guard her and my brother until this blows over.”
“I take it she’s not happy.”
“She’s still in the hospital and doesn’t know. I had her nurse get rid of her phone and keep her away from the news, but I don’t think I can keep it from her for long.”
“All right. I need to ask you a question before I make a decision. Is there any possibility the tabloids are right?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’d sooner believe that bullshit of you than I would of her.”
“May I ask why?”
Jeremy annoyed the fuck out of me with his questions, but that attention to detail was what made him so successful. “Carlina’s sister had Down Syndrome and passed away about five years ago. She is also well known to Aubrey and Chance Bateman and fosters their large animal rescues.”
“Sounds like a regular Mary Poppins. Is there a possibility she’s grooming Antonio to extort money from you?”
“Look,” I snapped, irritated that he’d used almost the exact same words the police had. “I’m not going to do this with you. She has an utterly vile temper, a foul mouth, and has made it clear I’m her least favorite person in the world, but Carlina Pérez isn’t going to steal from me or Antonio. If you aren’t interested in the job, say so, and I’ll find someone else.”
“That’s all I needed to hear,” Jeremy said. “Hunter and I will be there in a few hours.”
I let out a breath of relief, trying to decide if I wanted to punch Jeremy’s lights out for yanking my chain. “Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
I ended the call and leaned back in my chair to think. I needed to know who would say those appalling things about her, and the only name I could come up with was the chef who fired her over those chocolate cupcakes.
Judging by the number of people who had come to visit or sent flowers, Carlina was well liked and had a large network of supportive friends and family. Although money could make people do stupid things, this was malicious and purposeful, and I didn’t see anyone doing that except the chef at La Panache. I’d heard him threaten to blackball her myself.
I grinned evilly, wondering if I should get a white cat to make the image of supervillain complete, then picked up the phone to call my good friend Raymond at the health department.
Carlina was too talented to steal recipes. I’d eaten her food. Only the meals Antonio brought me, of course, but that was enough to know that she was gifted. Why would a woman able to create meals like she fed Antonio and me need to take other people’s creations?
I’d also eaten food from La Panache and I knew her touch with spice and seasonings. The execution had sucked, but if someone had stolen her recipes and used substandard ingredients… Yeah, that was what I’d been served.
A few quick taps on my computer pulled up the restaurant’s website and I picked up the office phone. “Linsey, I need everything you can get me on Mark Francis from La Panache.”
Chapter Ten
Carlina
Madelaine helped me into the wheelchair while the doctor signed my release forms and rattled off a bunch of instructions I’d probably ignore.
I checked the bag they’d given me for my personal effects, then looked up at Madelaine. “Have you seen my phone? I was sure I left it on the nightstand.”
She winced and nodded without meeting my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was checking your vitals overnight and accidentally knocked it off the table. The screen cracked so I had someone send it to TB to have it fixed. I should have told you earlier and forgot.”
I laughed and said, “TB, huh? I guess my nickname for him is going to stick. It’s okay about the phone. It was due to be replaced anyway.”
Still not looking at me, Madelaine said, “I’m sorry about that.”
Something crashed in the corridor outside my room and a male voice cursed. The red-haired photog I’d chased off my property burst into the room, wearing the same battered jeans and t-shirt.
When he saw me, his brown eyes brightened and he held up a camera. “Give us a smile, Carlina.”
My mouth fell open as two huge men charged in after the photog. One jerked the camera away and pulled the memory card, then snapped it in half.
“Hey! That’s mine!” the redhead shouted.
“You should feel lucky it wasn’t your arm.”
I barely had time to think before the large men carried him out, ignoring his protests. I turned to Madelaine and asked, “What the hell was that?”
She sighed and reached into her pocket, then handed me my undamaged phone. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now. TB is going to be pissed, but it’s probably better if you’re prepared.”
“Prepared for what? I thought you said this was broken.”
“The tabloids have gotten your name and have connected you with Mr. Acardi. They’re saying you abused his brother and stole recipes to get his attention so you could extort money from him, and that you set the fire yourself so you’d look like a hero when you saved Antonio. He was trying to hide it from you until he could clean it up.”
“What?” My stomach clenched and I felt nauseous. “Who would say such a thing? It’s completely not
true! I don’t even like Giorgio!”
“I know, but I guess it sells magazines.” She looked down at her hands and added, “You made it to TMZ too. I was supposed to hide everything that might give you access to news, but that idiot with the camera spoiled it.”
I pulled up Google and typed in my name, blinking in shock at the number of results. The first was TMZ, and I tapped it to bring up the video.
Horror and absolute raging fury turned me speechless as a smirking man in a blue dress shirt shredded my character and reputation.
It had to have been Mark. It might have been one of the other employees, but I didn’t think so. My ex was the only one spiteful enough to say such awful things about me, and he already threatened to destroy my reputation.
One of the men who removed the photographer sidled into my room and gave me a wary look. His dishwater blonde hair was cut very short over a square face and blue eyes, and his jeans were just as crisply pressed as his dark gray dress shirt.
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded. “Come to take more pictures?”
“No, ma’am. I’m Jeremy Riggs. Giorgio hired me to be your bodyguard.”
“You suck at it. Get your asshole boss on the phone and tell him I want to see him. He and I need to have words.”
“Ma’am, he’s—”
“Now, or I’m going to wrap an IV line around your thick neck and tighten it until your eyeballs pop out.”
He paled and backed away as he yanked a phone out of his pocket, “Yes, ma’am.”
Let them take their pictures. I wanted everyone to know I was just about to lose my ever-loving shit and tear Giorgio Acardi a new asshole.
Giorgio
Linsey tapped on the doorframe of my office and poked her head inside. “I have Jeremy Riggs on line two. He’s calling from the hospital.”
My stomach rolled. He wouldn’t be calling unless something had gone wrong. I tapped the phone to connect the call and said, “What happened?”
“We caught a photog in Ms. Pérez’s room. He pretended to go into the one next to hers and got in before we could stop him. She knows everything now, and she threatened to…”
Sexy Scoundrel: A Cocky Hero Club Novel Page 10
