“Wait,” he commanded, his tone imperious, his voice clearly demanding obedience.
She didn’t falter.
“Annie,” he spoke sharply, increasing his pace to reach her. “Cara, you do not need to run out like this.”
She stopped walking, forcing herself to speak calmly. There was a dull pain in between her legs; the pain that came from muscles having been stretched in completely new ways. She wanted to be back in her own small apartment, to process what had just taken place.
“Giac, it’s fine. I’m glad that it’s over with. And you’re right- you were the perfect man to lose my virginity to. Skilled, desirable, and with no strings attached.” She smiled at him brightly. “Thank you.”
“What the hell are you saying? Did you intend to sleep with me- or anyone – just to get it over with? Is that what you wanted?”
“For my first time to be with someone tall, dark and handsome? Isn’t that what every girl wants?”
“I don’t believe you,” he said quietly, uncaring of his own nakedness.
“Believe what you want, Giac. Being a virgin at twenty one is embarrassing.”
“No,” he denied. “It isn’t. It’s remarkable, and fascinating, but certainly not something to be ashamed of.”
She ignored the way his words made her heart soar. “Whatever. Thank you.”
“Thank you?” He retorted with disbelief. “You do not thank me for making love to you. And you do not run out on me.”
“Oh, you’re wrong, Giac, on both scores.” She scanned the room, saw her handbag dangling over a chair and reached for it. She hooked it over her shoulder and threw him what she hoped would pass as a casual smile. She knew she had moments before the shock of her situation really sunk in. “Good bye.”
“Annie,” he said coldly. “I am not a man to be walked out on. If you leave now, that is the end of us.”
She nodded. “I understand.” Hadn’t he already said there could be no ‘us’, anyway?
As she hit the Mayfair pavement, and walked towards Bond Street tube, she felt only shock. She didn’t know that Giac watched her slow, confused walk until she passed out of sight. He swore when she turned the corner, and reached for some clothes.
He was completely incapable of letting her go.
It took him precisely three minutes to catch up with her. And three minutes to forever change the course of his life.
CHAPTER THREE
“We have to talk,” he said into his mobile, watching Annie out on the terrace of his penthouse. She was wearing a ridiculously short pair of denim cutoffs, and a simple white singlet top. Her hair fell as one down her back.
“That’s funny. I’ve been thinking the same thing.” Carrie’s voice was distracted. “What’s up?”
Outside, Annie lifted her tea cup to her lips, her hands so elegant and fine, her mouth so desirable, that he felt himself stir to arousal. In the three nights since they’d first slept together, they’d barely left his bed. Work had taken a complete back seat for both, as discovering one another’s bodies became the order of the day.
Still. The certainty of hurting a woman he greatly admired made him hesitate. “It can wait until I’m back in the States. Will you be home next week?”
“Sure thing, Giac. Is everything okay? You sound different.”
If he sounded different, it’s because he was different. A changed man, courtesy of one beautiful and independent Annie Carlton.
“It’s fine.” He forced himself to make small talk. To ask about Carrie’s life, and the various charity events she was knee-deep in organizing, though he barely listened to a word she said. It was sheer relief to hang up the phone. He caught sight of his reflection as he moved purposefully through the lounge room. He despised himself for what he was doing.
“I think we should eat.”
Annie regarded him thoughtfully, through her clear green eyes. “That would be a novel change.” Her lips quirked into a small smile as she studied his low slung jeans and exposed chest.
“Yes. I realize we’ve been existing on a diet of sex and brie cheese for days, but perhaps we should bring actual food into the equation.”
“Well, it’s important to keep your strength up,” she mulled impishly, setting her tea aside and moving languidly towards him.
The whirlwind of the last few days had been life altering for Annie. After he’d chased her down and caught her just as she was entering the tube station, her world had begun to shift completely. He’d convinced her that he’d spoken hastily. That there could be a future for them. He didn’t know enough to speak in absolutes. It had been all she’d needed to hear.
“And yours, my beautiful Signorina.”
She nibbled the flesh at the base of his neck, running her hands over his back. “Of course, if you really want to eat dinner, you should probably stop walking around in a state of very, very sexy undress. It’s utterly distracting.”
He sucked in a deep breath. His body was alive with need for her, but his mind was focused on something else. Getting to know the temptress who had captivated him so completely. “Is there anything you don’t eat?”
“I’m a vegetarian.”
He looked at her, scandalized. “Seriously?”
“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”
“I’m sorry. I was wrong. This can have no future. How can I be with a woman who does not appreciate a good piece of fillet mignon?”
She shook her head with mock severity. “And how can I be with someone who eats dear baby animals?” He ran his fingers through her hair, and she shivered at the contact. “I suppose I’ll learn,” she murmured, staring into his dark eyes.
There was so much he wanted to say, but common sense prevailed. He hadn’t even known the woman for a fortnight, and he owed Carrie an explanation before things became much more serious with Annie.
“Dinner,” he said seriously.
“Whatever you want.” She smiled up at him. “I trust you.”
And she did.
This was no simple request for pizza or Chinese. Not for the famous Giacomo Medici. He called down to Concierge and requested a selection of meals from a famous Michelin restaurant in Soho. Their dinner arrived in less than an hour.
“You really do not know how most people live, do you?” Annie mused, watching as he lifted stainless steel lids off fine ceramic plates, as though it were no more interesting than opening a store bought cereal box.
He raised his eyebrows. “You think I’ve always lived like this?” He gestured to the lavishly furnished apartment.
“I don’t know,” she said, stricken, as she realized how little she really knew about this man. She knew how his body responded to hers, and what he loved her to do to him, and what he loved to do to her, but beyond that, he was rather a mystery. “Haven’t you? Always lived like this, I mean?”
“Not at all.” He opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, then handed one to her. “My family had no money. I grew up never knowing where my next meal would come from. I’m the first person to admit my wealth is rather ludicrous, given my humble origins.”
“I had no idea.”
“No. Not many people do. I have been described as unusually private.”
“Tell me about yourself, Giac,” she implored, leaning forward with her whole body.
He speared a courgette fritter with his fork and lifted it to her lips. She took a small bite, her eyes holding his.
“What do you want to know? I will tell you anything,” he promised, amending, to himself, that there was only one subject that was off limits. Carrie.
“Your childhood. Start there, and we’ll work our way up to the present day.”
The subject brought him little pleasure, but sharing with Annie had become an addiction. “Well, let’s see.” He lifted a vegetable gyoza and placed it on Annie’s plate. “My father was never in the picture. He broke up with my mother when she discovered she was pregnant.” An emotion, brief but intense, flashed across his f
ace. “I grew up in a small village, outside of Firenze. Being uno bastardo was still seen as something to be ashamed of. My mother, certainly, was made to feel a failure for my very existence.”
“Oh, Giac,” Annie reached over and linked her fingers through his. “I had no idea.” His smile was distracted.
“My mother is an amazing woman. She never let me feel less of a man, no matter what anyone said. She pushed me from a young age, to ignore those who would criticize and doubt. I knew I needed to achieve in spite of what they said. Or, perhaps, because of it.”
“I just don’t understand how someone goes from a life of poverty to being on the Forbes rich list.”
“Determination,” he responded instantly. “I wanted everyone who had made my mother hurt, with their words and judgmental actions, regret their actions.” His grin was predatory and filled with resentment. “My mother is now extremely wealthy. I have provided her with more money than she will ever be able to spend; and the biggest mansion in our village. Nobody dares criticize her these days.”
A shiver ran down Annie’s spine. “Your revenge must have felt good.”
“Revenge? I suppose it was.” He pierced her with his dark eyes. “And you, cara?”
She let go of his hand, lifting the wine to her lips and sipping the buttery liquid gratefully.
“This is nice,” she remarked.
“Do you like wine?”
She shrugged. “I don’t mind it. I just don’t know much about it. My parents don’t really drink, and until I started working at Amicus, my budget didn’t stretch to much beyond Tescos finest…”
He was amused. “It’s your turn. I want to hear about your childhood.”
“Rather a dull story, compared to yours,” she said self-consciously. “I grew up in Harrow. My mother is a dental hygienist. My father a conveyancer. My brother is a reasonably well known DJ.” She shrugged. “I had a very normal, very happy childhood. So happy it makes me feel infinitely sad for you.”
“Don’t pity me, cara. I might have been lacking in material possessions, but I never lacked love or security.”
She could see that. He was so confident; the kind of confidence only borne of knowing himself to be special to someone. “So how did you end up here? I mean it. It’s not easy to amass the kind of fortune I presume you have.”
Something strange lodged in his chest cavity. “Do you care that I have money?”
“Care? I don’t understand…”
“Does it change how you feel about me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you asking if I’m here because of what you have, rather than who you are?”
For the first time in a relationship, he felt insecure. “Si.”
“I don’t care if you have two euro or two billion.”She smiled at him, and in her smile, he saw all of the emotions he needed. He visibly relaxed. “It’s stupid, to feel this way about you. I mean, we’ve just met. But… well… believe me, Giac. This is all about you.”
He nodded. “I do believe you.”
“So?”
He shrugged. “It was a mix of luck and opportunity.”
“I don’t believe in luck,” she said truthfully.
“No, nor do I, generally. Though meeting you was lucky.” He fixed her with a direct stare. “I wasn’t supposed to be handling the business at Amicus. But my assistant came down with the chicken pox, and I had to come myself.”
“The chicken pox? Is your assistant six years old?”
He grinned. “One of the few people who didn’t manage to catch it as a child. I have thought about that often, since meeting you. What are the chances? That Alessandro would develop a serious illness, forcing me to travel in his stead? That meeting you might not have happened…”
She shuddered. “But it did.”
“And that was luck.”
“Yes, perhaps.” Fate felt like a more appropriate word.
“In business, I worked hard to create opportunities. I was blessed with making good investments at certain times. The market fluctuated in my favor.”
She watched the way his strong features moved as he spoke, and felt her heart clench with need, and love. For she knew that she loved him. It was ridiculous, given that she’d known him such a short while, but it was fact.
Their dinner went largely untouched. Fortified, the food was forgotten, and their bodies reasserted their needs.
Annie eventually drifted off to sleep, satisfied, weary, and bursting with love for the man beside her.
* * *
Everything about the afternoon seemed brighter. Annie practically skipped out of the office, down to the tube. She thought about texting Giac to let him know she was on her way. But, she decided with a grin, surely he would just know. For his body must have been as strangely connected to hers as hers was to his.
It was a sunny day, and the Jubilee line train was packed to overflowing with the usual commuting crowd. Mostly business people in suits at that time of day; some tourists clutching cameras and weary expressions; a few homeless people, catching up on sleep in the safety of the public train.
She barely noticed any of them. Not the strong smell of other people, not the sound of the free newspapers crinkling as people turned the pages impatiently. All she could think of was Giac.
Her dress was the color of lilacs. She had dressed with extra care that morning, knowing that night would be the first night she told him that she loved him. It might have been early on in their relationship, but her feelings were too strong to deny.
She stopped just long enough to spontaneously grab an enormous bunch of red roses from the Marks & Spencers at Bond Street tube station, then she pushed on, towards Giac.
The elevator was swift, but Annie’s nerves were at breaking point by then. It had been a whole night, and a whole day. She had left his apartment, desperate to think things through, to analyze her own feelings and see the truth of the matter. The only thing she’d realized was that she loved him more than she’d known possible.
Her smile was fixed when she reached his apartment and knocked on the door. She couldn’t wait to see him. To be with him.
The door opened inwards and her pulse quickened. Seconds. That was all she had to wait.
“Hi.”
A beautiful woman stood on the other side of the door. She had hair so blonde it was like rays of sunshine, sculptured around her picture perfect face in a neat bob. Her eyes were wide set and brown. Her nose, fine and dainty. Her figure, buxom, tall, with supermodel proportions. Annie could see that clearly, because the woman was wearing a negligee.
“Oh, Lord!” The other woman gasped as she looked down at her skimpy attire. “I’m so sorry. We’ve just got out of bed.” She looked disconcerted; distracted, perhaps. Her eyes fell to the red roses. “Giac, baby, there’s a woman here with roses. Do you know anything about that?”
Annie wasn’t sure how she kept herself upright, when nausea and confusion were flooding her senses with a tingling sense of adrenalin. “Oh, hi,” she spoke finally. “Sorry, you look familiar.”
The other woman shook her hand in the air. “I get that all the time. I must have one of ‘those’ faces.” Her smile was weak. “How can I help you?”
Annie gaped as Giac came into view, behind the other woman. He was wearing his blue boxers. She knew them well. She’d removed them with only her teeth, two days earlier. His expression was inscrutable. “These are for you.” She thrust the roses at the woman, pinning a professional expression on her face. “I work for Mr. Medici. He asked them to be brought over.”
“Oh, Giac.” Her accent was American, thick and strong, but perfectly delightful. As was everything about the woman, Annie noticed distractedly, as the blonde took the roses and turned to embrace Annie’s lover. “You’re too much.” She turned to smile weakly at Annie, with no idea that she was driving daggers into her heart. “He’s such a hopeless romantic. How lucky am I?” She buried her nose in the extravagant flowers.
“Super lucky,�
�� Annie’s voice was droll, but apparently the blonde missed it. Annie shook her head, to clear the cobwebs. She was about to turn to leave when she looked at the roses one last time. Her eyes skimmed past the blooms, though, and landed on the enormous diamond the woman wore on her ring finger.
It was an engagement ring. Unmistakably.
“Okay. I’ll be going. Good night.”
She turned and walked back to the lifts, her legs not at all steady. She could feel sickness rising inside of her. Somehow, on autopilot, she just kept moving.
She’d reached the foyer before he caught her.
“Annie,” his voice was imperious, his tone harsh.
“Don’t,” she shook her head, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were falling.
“Please,” he implored, catching her before she reached the street. It was unusual for him to beg, and so she froze.
“Please? Please what, Giac?”
He swore harshly, in English and Italian. “You do not understand.”
Annie scanned his face, but everything she had thought she’d known about him had evaporated into thin air.
“Are you engaged to her?”
He closed his eyes and was still for a very long minute. “Yes, I am.”
Annie nodded, tears falling steadily now. “And you’re going to marry her.”
“Yes.” He swallowed. His dark eyes throbbed with intensity. “But please let me explain.”
She shook her head. “Don’t.” She sobbed. She couldn’t help it. “There is nothing you can say to fix this.”
She was right, and he hated himself for hurting her. “Let me at least call you a cab.”
Her sobs were becoming louder. She was terrified of making a scene. “I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you, Giac.”
“Annie,” it was a pained whisper. “My car can take you home.” He looked toward concierge, and a uniformed man appeared instantly.
She ignored him. “I just told you. I don’t want anything from you. Nothing. Nada.”
Giac nodded to the driver, who disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived. “I was wrong to bring you into this.” He shook his head. “I had no idea how badly I might hurt you.”
The Medici Mistress: Nothing and no one would stop him from having her. Page 3
