The Flaw in His Marriage Plan

by Tara Pammi

  He’d arrived at the fashion show, temper frayed, determined to confront the woman whose loyalty should’ve been to him. Only him.

  Instead, seeing her strutting on the catwalk, challenge and confidence oozing from every pore, her body a finely honed machine, her eyes glowing with some inner zeal had completely undercut his anger.

  Alessandra in that bloodred bikini top—some sort of studded corset that propped up her already high breasts—and a thong in the same color, with light brown high heels that almost blended into her skin, and all that golden-brown hair pulled back into a tight bun that sharpened her already flawless bone structure, was never going to leave his memory bank even if he lived to be a hundred.

  Her red lipstick had made her pouty mouth a lesson in sensuality and sin.

  The woman had far too much power over him, moving him from anger to laughter to desire as if he were a windup toy she could turn on and off at her leisure.

  She looked up at that precise moment, the flashing purple lights lighting up her lithe body, her eyes shimmering with naked challenge.

  Something inside him awakened with a growl.

  Because this woman, who challenged him, who was making him work for her loyalty, whose surrender would be so delicious when he finally won it, she set his blood on fire. And he’d had enough of watching her from a distance, like those other besotted men. Enough of pussyfooting around her because of misplaced guilt about hurting her. Enough of trying to give her space and time to deal with her grief.

  The world needed to know that she belonged to him. That she had thrown her lot in with him. The explosive news that Alessandra Giovanni had married the Brunetti Bastard should be enough to gain him back some of the ground he’d lost this past week.

  It should have been all about damage control at this point. But the thought of winning his wife over fired his blood like nothing else.

  Leaning his forearms on the wrought iron balustrade, Vincenzo held her gaze. And beckoned her upstairs with his index finger. Laughter broke out of him at the dawning effrontery in her expression, a fire in his veins as he imagined those beautiful brown eyes clouding over with passion when she eventually surrendered to him.

  He was a man used to surrender, and he would accept nothing less from the woman he’d married.

  * * *

  Apparently, whatever reprieve she’d been offered over the last two weeks was finally over. Foolish of her to hope he’d disappear after the fashion show without seeking her out.

  He stood on the balcony, looking down upon her, his gray gaze perusing her with such an intense possessiveness that she felt owned.

  How dare he beckon her with a finger, as if she were his puppet!

  And yet, here she was, answering his summons. Their encounters in Bali had hinted at a depth of emotion that she didn’t see in most men.

  Greta had really lost it with Alex, calling her a naive, besotted fool for not realizing his true nature. But she’d been so sure about him. If there was one thing she’d had exposure to from the ripe age of sixteen, it was men.

  She’d been hit on, propositioned, come on to, even harassed, by everyone from a lowly lighting manager to a megarich designer, to a CEO of a multinational corporation.

  Most men were either intimidated by the idea of all that she was and tried to overcompensate for it in various ways. Others—usually rich investment types—thought that all it took to impress her was a bigger fortune than hers and a bigger ego.

  But Vincenzo hadn’t fallen into either camp. He had been different from that very first moment.

  There had been something very down-to-earth about him, an awareness of his place in the world and the power he could wield. Respect that he offered her immediately for the basic reason that she was another human being, a sense of reserve that she’d been itching to topple from the first time he’d walked her to her villa and then walked away without presuming anything.

  She hadn’t been wrong about the fact that here was a man who felt deeply about things. Who had more emotional bandwidth than anyone she’d ever been involved with.

  Only all that emotion had been deliberately channeled, for years and years, in a bitter quest for revenge, to destroy the people she loved most. And she meant to sway him from that path...

  No wonder Leo had thought she was in over her head. Massimo had simply smiled, winked and asked her to load herself up with dynamite for she was trying to move a mountain.

  She took the final step and immediately regretted leaving the safety of the crowd behind. The space beyond him was expansive but cut away from the prying eyes of others. Too much privacy. Too many secluded corners with dark leather couches that could swallow up a newly married couple who hadn’t touched each other in months.

  “You’re not my lord and master,” she said tartly. Drumming up her defenses.

  “And yet here you are.”

  “I didn’t think this was the time to engage in that particular battle.”

  “Ah...so you do know your limits.”

  “What limits?”

  “You know you’ve pushed me far enough already, si?” he asked huskily, stepping from the shadows into the light. “Do you want to sit?”

  “No, I don’t. I wouldn’t like to sit.” She lowered her voice, realizing he’d moved even closer. The lemony scent of him swept through her, evoking a piercing shaft of need. “I like standing. In fact, I haven’t done enough of it today. I—”

  “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Alessandra,” he said, his baritone voice going all deep and low and smoky, just the way it did when he was aroused. When he wrapped those skillful hands around her. When he moved inside of her.

  But there was something else too.

  Pulling in a deep breath, she finally let herself look at him. The dark leather jacket he’d worn to the show had been discarded. His gunmetal gray dress shirt was unbuttoned and uncuffed, giving her a glimpse of the chest hair that had the most incredible effect when rubbed against her own naked skin...

  A lazy smile split his mouth, crinkling at the edges of his eyes, shooting straight through to her heart. The damned man was laughing at her.

  “You look quite flushed, cara mia. Maybe a cold drink will help.”

  She did feel overheated, even the soft lace of her dress feeling far too tight. She clenched her hands around the cool metal of the balcony. “I’m fine. Stop being so...”

  So irresistible. So knee-meltingly gorgeous. So blatantly masculine.

  “So what?”

  “So...solicitous. As if—” She shook her head far too forcefully, and her hair tumbled down from the loose knot she’d put it in, the brown clip clinking against the cool marble floor. Swearing, she bent down, but he got there first. “Thanks,” she said, extending her hand, but he pulled away.

  “Leave it like that.”

  “I don’t want to—” she pulled the heavy weight away from her neck “—and it’s too—”

  “The entire world gets to see you strut down the catwalk in a bikini that’s been designed to fire up every red-blooded man’s fantasies, bella, and that’s fine with me.” His gaze took in the thrust of her breasts as she held up the swathe of her hair, the pulse hammering away at her throat, the swipe of her tongue against her trembling lower lip. His eyes met hers with a naked hunger that was a balm to her wounded ego. “But do not deny me my fantasies, Alessandra.

  “All I’ve wanted for the past two weeks is to see you sprawled on my bed, that hair spread out on my pillow, but clearly that’s not going to happen anytime soon, no? This is the least you can do to keep your poor husband going. Even as you thrust a knife into my back, Princess.”

  The feral possessiveness of his voice was like a thunderbolt filling her veins with an electric sizzle. “A knife into your back?” she said, her words breathy, distracted.

  “You have
been a bad girl, bella. Helping out the defenseless Brunetti men.”

  The edge to his words made Alex frown. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He tilted his head, considering her thoughtfully. “You’re going to persuade me that it wasn’t you who leaked my dirty beginnings to the tabloids? That dented my reputation in the financial circles of Milan?”

  She stared at him, aghast. “The last thing I’d do now is lie to you. I think there’s been enough of that between us already, don’t you?”

  “You’re magnificent even when you attack me, Princess.”

  “You’re gorgeous even when you’re being Machiavellian, V.”

  He laughed and those crinkles appeared again. And it was damned impossible to hold herself at arm’s length when she badly wanted to melt into his broad frame and beg him to walk away from all this.

  To put their relationship first. To put their future first. To put her first.

  “I didn’t leak it, V. Whether you believe me or not is up to you. You might not think twice about hurting people but that’s not how I operate. Especially when I can understand how painful it must have been to be that innocent child.

  “I’ve thrown my lot in with you. At least for the near future.”

  He held her gaze in the flickering light for a long while and finally nodded. “Then it has to have been your lovely stepmother, Greta.”

  “That’s an unfair jump. You’re determined to see them all as your enemies.”

  “Who else benefits by it?” he pointed out. “I’ll admit that it was a clever move on her part, that it set me back quite a bit.”

  “What? How?”

  “I lost the support of two members of the BFI board who’d been ready to throw their vote behind me instead of Leo. Stock prices for Cavalli Enterprises have been plummeting ever since the news hit the papers.

  “The Brunetti Bastard has quite the ring to it, si? A clever little moniker.”

  “Of course it’s not,” Alex replied, the latent bitterness in his words shaking her up. That his plans had been set back gave her no satisfaction in the face of his hurt. But... “Has it made any difference, V?” she couldn’t help asking.

  His head jerked up. “Difference to what?”

  “To see yourself from a different perspective.

  “Face what you’ve done, what you’re doing publicly, going against ethical businessmen like Leo and Massimo, against a revered institution like BFI that they’ve rebuilt into something of value.

  “Shouldn’t it at least make you pause and reconsider what you—”

  “You think I care what the world’s perception of me is? Or that I’ve been only half-awake for the past two decades while I planned and plotted against them using every weakness I could find to further my cause? You think I can stop now, after all these years?”

  She blinked, feeling as if she’d been dropped onto the concrete floor of reality with a bruising thud. But she refused to look away. Refused to back down. “If I can stop running from my life, then you can—”

  “Enough, Alessandra! Let it be.”

  He looked away from her into the crowd. “You didn’t last long before you broke our agreement, did you?”

  She frowned. “Our agreement, which you just dictated by the way, was that I don’t make impulsive, life-altering decisions in the next three months. Standing mutely by your side while you take down people I care about is... Well, let’s just say that will never be me. Honestly, it’s not like I have any ammunition against you. All I have are words.”

  “I’m glad you think that,” he said, with a self-deprecation that had her jerking her head up. “You were...brilliant, glowing on the stage today. I can see why the fashion world is bemoaning you leaving the industry.”

  “My modeling career grounded me when I was directionless, true. But I’m done with it.” She cleared her throat when he looked up. “It was an impulsive decision initially, I admit. I was disgusted by the working conditions that the cosmetic company was using. But it was just the catalyst I needed.

  “I was tired of the constant grind, the relentless probing into my private life...the loneliness behind the bright lights was consuming me.”

  “What about that one?” He tilted his head toward the dance floor.

  Alex didn’t have to look down to see who he meant. For a minute, she dallied with the idea of embellishing her relationship with Javi just to save her pride. Just to make Vincenzo feel a little unsure of where he stood with her. Wanted to see the flash of jealousy she’d seen that day when he’d asked if he was a rebound for her.

  She discarded the idea in the next. Lies and deception had never been her thing.

  “Things hadn’t been right between us for a long time. When I told him that I was considering walking away from it all, he revealed his true colors. His use for me was going to be considerably reduced once I stepped out of the limelight.”

  She shrugged, even though a part of her still hurt. It had been a long time since she’d indulged in the fantasy that Javi and she shared some big, romantic love, but to learn that for him all her value lay in her modeling career was still a bitter pill to swallow. Just like discovering that she’d only been a duty to her mother—a necessary punishment for the sin she’d committed in having an extramarital fling with Alex’s father.

  “He’s still sniffing around you.”

  “I was spectacular today, like you said. So Javi’s wondering if he let me go too soon.”

  “After that fight, you dumped him instantly and hightailed it to Bali, si?”

  “Something like that, yes. But on that occasion my impulse was absolutely right. Realizing that I’m at the tail end of this career now, that retirement is truly what I want at this point in my life...that gave me that extra sparkle on the stage tonight.

  “I’m going to finish at the top. No regrets. No looking back as I start the next chapter of my life.”

  “You sound determined,” he said quietly.

  “Enough to convince you that I mean this?”

  “Si.” He straightened from the lazy pose and every cell in her stood up to attention. “Maybe I can suggest the first paragraph in the new chapter? It’s time to reveal the little secret of our marital status to the world, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.”

  “What better venue than now? Tonight?”

  “Okay, yeah,” she said, casting a look around the huge, packed nightclub.

  It hadn’t gone unnoticed that he’d summoned her and she’d answered the arrogant summons. One look at their body language would be more than enough for anyone to see that their interest in each other was anything but platonic. “Most big media outlets have someone down there. What were you thinking? A statement as we walk out?”

  After what felt like an eternity, he covered the short distance between them, his arrogant stare taking on an edge of something else. Another step and their thighs grazed just a little.

  Alex shivered, every inch of her body, desperate for contact, bowing toward him. His fingers landed on her temple, pushing the mass of her hair from her face. And then he cupped the back of her neck gently. Giving her a chance to step away. “I was thinking a kiss, right here. Stir up some interest before we announce the pertinent facts.”

  Music hammered around them. The intimate contact, after the drought of so many months, felt like a spark of fire in her body. She was going to say yes. She knew it. He knew it. The hungry denizens of the press were just a reason they were both using. Except she didn’t want to be the one who gave in too easily. Who blinked first.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and fluttered her lashes at him. “You’re doing this to punish me for walking out on you.” She pouted, knowing that the particular red she was wearing tonight made her mouth look like a tart strawberry.

  “I didn’t realize kissi
ng me was such a punishment, bella.”

  She bent her mouth closer to his ear. “It isn’t. In fact, there’s very few things in life I enjoy more. And you know that. That’s the punishment. To be reminded of how helpless I am to this...thing between us even when I don’t trust you.”

  A vein pulsed in his temple. “All I want is to kiss my wife after months of going to bed alone, wishing she was there to welcome me. Of waking up alone in the middle of the night fully aroused, but knowing that no relief is forthcoming except by my hand. While wondering if I had imagined how bloody good it had been when you came to me that first time in Bali and I took you under the stars in the night sky.”

  “It was that good,” she added simply. Wishing she was the type that could play games. Wishing she could somehow use his attraction to her, that desperate huskiness of his tone, to her advantage.

  But she couldn’t. “Okay. Let’s get it over with.”

  “That sounds like you’re bracing yourself for battle.”

  “You don’t think the battle’s already begun?”

  “I guess you will claim I started it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And must I finish the battle too?”

  “No. I will. You should know, though, that I intend to win. At any cost.”

  “All I wanted was a peaceful marriage with a biddable woman,” he said, with a put-upon sigh.

  Laughter roared out of her, melting away the stress and grief of the past few months, at least for a moment. This was the man she’d fallen for in that lush island paradise. This man who’d laughed with her, who’d teased her. Who’d listened to her talking about her dreams.

  He didn’t quite laugh with her but his eyes gleamed in the darkness. In the flickering light and shadows of the club, the lines of his face looked astonishingly beautiful. “And the prize for winning?”

  “There’s a prize?”

  “There’s always a prize in these things. Shall I tell you what it is, Princess?” he whispered, his breath hot against her lips, his arrogant nose flaring.