by Gina Kincade
"I don't know. I can't imagine what I can do. He doesn’t even like me."
Sarah waved a hand. "He doesn’t have to like you. He definitely wants you."
The image of the photo crept into her brain—the one where Raul was looking down at her just before he kissed her in the snow. The look in his eyes said he was thinking about what he wanted to do to her after he kissed her, and it would be hot and heavy. If not dirty and illegal.
Did she want him looking at her that way again?
Yes, she did.
So that she could reject him, of course.
So it was time for her to put on her big girl panties and do it.
She nodded at Sarah and said, "I want to torture him with the only thing I've got. I know he's attracted to me. But he's fighting it because he thinks I'm a cheating gypsy."
"Soooo—" Sarah drew out the word. "You want him to see you as something other than a liar and con artist. Even if it's just a sex object."
"I'm not sure about the sex object part, but I want him to be sorry for what he's said and done to me. No matter how I make him sorry."
"If he doesn't get to sleep with you, he'll be very sorry. I've seen the way he looks at you."
"Good. That's all I want."
Sarah frowned. "I see just one little problem with your plan."
"What's that?"
"What if you can't resist him? He is not a man who gets turned down by women."
"That's the whole point! I'm going to be the woman who does turn him down. But first I need to get him to make a real pass at me."
Sarah nodded. "Then you're going to love my plan."
Uh, oh, that sounded a bit ominous. "You wouldn't lead me astray, would you?"
"My new bestie? No way." Sarah grabbed her hand and began to draw her out of the room. "We have to hurry. Come on."
"Shouldn't I change into some nicer clothes?" Alessandra gestured to her jeans and shirt that were fine for traveling, but—
"Girl, you've got no imagination. You don't tease a guy with clothes." Sarah giggled as she led Alessandra led down two flights on a secondary staircase, to an area of the basement that smelled faintly of chlorine. "There's a pool down here," Sarah said, "a gym, the squash court, a whole bunch of stuff. Plus, of course, the sauna."
Sarah pushed open a door marked with the word 'Ladies'. The locker room was more like a spa, an ultra luxurious spa. Scented air immediately enveloped Alessandra, teasing her with a languid blend of light florals and a deeper note like sandalwood. Instantly, she began to relax. The floor gave under her feet. Was it cork? She wanted to take off her shoes just to walk on it with bare feet.
A love seat and several overstuffed chairs were strewn around the spacious room, inviting one to sit and relax. They were upholstered in a marine blue treated fabric that looked easy to wipe off. Large lockers in a pale wood lined the left wall and matching cubbies on the right wall held fluffy white towels folded in stacks. A gleaming mirror stretched across the far wall. In front of it was a marble counter on which were neatly displayed anything a woman would need to enhance her beauty, from hair dryers and curling irons to French toiletries, various cosmetics, and hair products.
The lighting was indirect, muted, except in front of the mirror.
"Show time," Sarah announced cheerfully. "Grab a large towel, and a smaller one."
Alessandra picked up one of the towels. It was so soft and fluffy, she brought it to her cheek, just to experience the tactile appeal. "Now what?"
Sarah walked toward the lockers. "Now we get undressed," she said, in an exaggeratedly patient tone. "Then we go in the sauna. Then we wait. It's very simple."
"Sarah, I still don't know your plan." Alessandra planted her feet on the floor, as if nothing could uproot her.
Sarah looked at her with wide blue eyes. "I didn't tell you?"
"Spill it," Alessandra ordered. "Now. I am not getting undressed until I know what is going on."
"Fine." Sarah huffed out a sigh as if Alessandra were being unreasonable. "I told you I saw Raul at lunch. He and Stephano were making plans to play squash at 1 o'clock."
Alessandra's eyes flew to the clock on the wall. It was 2:25. "You're not suggesting that we play squash in the nude, I hope. First, I don't even play squash. Second, I do not exercise naked in public." She dropped the towel onto a chair. "Third, I do think you are stark raving mad."
Sarah laughed as if she'd been complimented. "No squash. And this is hardly public." She waved around the room. "This is a private home." She winked at Alessandra. "Very private."
"You're making me nervous. Very nervous."
"Nothing to it. All you're going to do is go in the sauna, lie down like you don't have a care in the world, relax in the soothing heat—"
"And?"
"And pop up when Raul comes in." Sarah opened one of the lockers.
"Pop up?" Alessandra repeated. "Like a jack in the box?"
"A naked jack in the box," Sarah said with a giggle.
Alessandra moaned.
"Good lord." Sarah shook her head. "Do I have to spell it out? You shake your boobs in his face, and before he's had a good enough look, you throw your towel over yourself. The big one. You can keep the little one over your hips since you're such a prude. Then—you flee. He'll want nothing more than to chase you."
"For murder, no doubt," Alessandra said. "Because I will have killed you by then."
Sarah laughed. "You'll kiss me when you see the look on his face."
"You are truly insane."
"Everyone says so." Sarah blew her a kiss.
"How do you know he'll come in the sauna?"
"I asked Stephano's sister. She said they always do after a squash game."
"I can't do it." Alessandra almost moaned again.
"Don't make me have to call you a coward." Sarah whipped her long-sleeved top over her head. Her bra followed, and then she unsnapped her jeans. "If I can do this, you can. Get cracking, girl. They only play for an hour and a half."
Sarah was in the process of wrapping the larger towel around her body, knotting it over her breasts, by the time Alessandra was able to take off her shirt.
"Hurry," Sarah said. "You can leave your panties on, if you must. But he'll know."
"How will he know when you said I can keep the towel over my hips?" Awkwardly, she stepped out of her jeans.
Sarah pursed her lips. "He just will. Guys are like that."
"This is the most insane plan I've ever heard of," Alessandra grumbled.
"You can thank me later." Sarah shot her a big grin. "Come on, don't you feel sexy without any clothes on?"
"I feel foolish." She followed Sarah around the row of lockers. She did enjoy the feel of the floor massaging her feet. It was amazing, sending tendrils of pleasure right up her legs. And she did feel sexier, more open somehow without any clothes.
Of course, she was more open, with nothing covering her but a loose towel. She had not followed Sarah's suggestion to keep on her panties, and she was supremely conscious of the fact that little would hide her from any male who happened to enter her vicinity. It was enticing, but also nerve-wracking.
Even the sauna seemed luxurious, almost feminine, with its warm red-toned wood, and its rich cedar scent. Hidden bulbs cast small pools of golden light throughout the room. The hot, dry air twined around Alessandra, and slid along her skin, making her suddenly glad she was naked. She felt herself opening like a flower greeting the sun, relaxing into the sauna's embrace, and allowing her senses to come to life and be caressed.
Sarah sat down on one of the slatted benches, leaned back, and opened her towel. "Ummm," she purred, "that feels divine."
Alessandra walked to the other bench and sat down, still clutching one towel around her, and the other in her hand.
"Face the other door," Sarah ordered. "That goes to the men's locker room. Remember, you want to give him a show, to tease him."
"I don't," Alessandra moaned.
"Just follo
w my directions. Fold up the big towel and put it where you can grab it. When you think he's seen enough, you simply whip it around you. Show over."
"Don't look."
Sarah giggled. "You're so modest. Have you ever been with a man?"
"Of course I have," Alessandra responded indignantly. "Just—not very often."
"Then lie down, stretch the small towel over your lap, and relax. It's kind of dim in here. He'll only get a glimpse of boob, just enough to drive him mad."
Alessandra's fingers shook as she placed the tiny towel over her vital parts. Then she lay down on the bench and, immediately, began to relax. It was impossible to do anything else. The dry air drew moisture to her skin, and seemed to draw any apprehension right out of her. She let an image of Raul drift through her mind, and she wondered what it would feel like to do anything she wanted with him—whatever would feel good to both of them, without any suspicions or hard words between them. Merely thinking of him softened her, made her feel pliable and yielding.
The door from the men's locker room was pulled open silently. Only a breath of cool air announced the breach. Alessandra bolted upright, grabbing already for the towel, but missing it. Raul stood there, tall and dark and as still as stone. As formidably masculine as the first man in the Garden of Eden.
Light from the locker room backlit him so she couldn't see his expression. But his eyes gleamed and she saw his gaze jerk to her breasts, which peaked instantly, despite the warmth of the sauna.
Thank God he had a towel wrapped around his waist. But Alessandra could feel his shock from across the room.
"Get in there, man." That was Stephano's voice, from behind Raul. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Raul still hadn't gained the ability to speak. His eyes flickered down her body, up to her face, as if to make sure it was her, and then settled back on her breasts. "Alessandra?"
His voice released her, and she grabbed again for the larger towel. In her haste, she knocked it off the bench. Oh, she was in trouble. There was no way to reach it without standing up, and she couldn't stand up because the little towel certainly would not go around her hips. She bit her lip, alarm spindling through her. Stephano was bound to push his way in any second and there she'd be, naked as a jaybird or worse, naked and clutching the tiny towel to her vajayjay like some puritanical maiden aunt.
Something more drummed in her brain. She was supposed to be enticing Raul, teasing him, forcing him to notice her. Whose stupid idea was that? He was certainly noticing her. But where did they go from here? Wildly, she glanced over at Sarah. But Sarah had neatly wrapped her towel around herself and was watching the show like all she needed to complete her afternoon was popcorn.
"Raul." Alessandra had to stop to clear her throat, which had wrapped huskily around his name like an invitation to sin.
"The sign was not illuminated." Raul glanced at the corner by Sarah's head.
"The sign?" Alessandra felt a wild giggle try to erupt in her throat. That was what he had to say?
"What the hell is going on in there?" Stephano's voice burst over them again.
"Chill out," Raul barked. He strode into the room, stooped to grab Alessandra's towel, and handed it to her. "As much as I love the view, I don't want to share it."
"It's not your view to share," Alessandra snapped. But she wrapped the towel around her, grateful to have it.
"We'll talk about that later," Raul answered in a tight voice. He glanced over at Sarah, as if noticing her for the first time. "You ladies having fun?"
"We were," Sarah responded, with laughter in her voice. "Did we shock you?"
Raul let out a genuine laugh, stepped aside, and Stephano barreled into the room. "Watch out for the tits, Stephano. The ladies seem to think the sight of some boobs will knock us dead."
"Boobs?" Stephano surveyed the room. "I don't have laser vision to see through towels. Have I missed the show?"
"We're just getting ready to leave." Alessandra stood up, wishing she could drag her dignity around her like she'd dragged the towel. But it was hopeless. Raul hadn't responded as planned and really, how could they have thought he would? He must have seen countless topless women in his life. She scurried out, followed by Sarah, who blew a kiss to the two men.
Chapter Sixteen
"As you know," Stephano said to Raul later that afternoon, "we've had a title company trying to clear the title to that damned piece of land you need." He stretched out his legs and puffed on a cigar in his well-appointed study.
"And?" Raul couldn't quite relax, despite the tumbler of aged Scotch on a tray beside him. He hadn't touched the booze, nor the cigar Stephano offered. This issue was too important for distractions.
If Raul couldn't get the Ranieri land and make the ski resort into a huge success, the Stirlings were going to lose everything. From their own land and home, all the way down to a good education for his youngest sister, Bianca.
Raul had to suppress a shudder. He couldn't bear to think about the looming catastrophe, and yet he had to. Who else was there to stave off disaster? His parents were still lost in grief, not that his father had ever spared a thought to supporting the family, as far as Raul could tell. Apparently, they'd counted on his older brother to wave a magic wand and restore their finances to what they'd been a half century ago.
How they'd expected Sergio to do that, Raul hadn't a clue. Sergio had spent his life chasing adventure, from yacht racing to skydiving and everything in between. Of course, those pursuits had cost him his life when he died in a para gliding accident in the Swiss Alps. But when Raul had tried to go through his brother's papers, to straighten out the mess of his family's finances, he couldn't find a damn thing that Sergio had been working on. He'd been forced to conclude that Sergio hadn't given the matter any more attention than their father had done.
Stephano finally pulled up whatever document he'd been searching for. "There is no title to that land," he stated. "Certainly not since Adela Ranieri moved there."
A ribbon of hope began to unfurl deep within Raul. "Are you telling me she did not own that land?"
"As far as we can tell no one owned that land."
Raul leaned forward. "How is that possible? How did she live there? Who built the house?"
"That's the interesting thing," Stephano answered. "The house has been there for more than a century. No one knows who built it."
"Are you saying Adela simply moved in and claimed the property?"
Stephano shook his head. "There's no indication that she ever 'claimed' the property. She paid taxes on it. She lived on it. She maintained it. No one else ever claimed it." He shrugged. "That's all we know."
"That's impossible. The town must have records."
"Many records were lost during World War 1 and then again during World War 2." Stephano’s shrug emphasized the futility of looking for casualties of war. "But it looks like when Adela moved in, long after the second war, she simply started paying taxes which no one else had been paying, at least not in living memory. The town was happy to accept the money. They don't care who owns anything as long as the taxes get paid."
"I'll be damned." Raul sat back and stretched his long legs out before him. "All that worry. All that time lost. For nothing."
"It's not that clear-cut," Stephano said. "I have to warn you. A good lawyer could make a claim that Adela owned the land through what we call 'adverse possession'."
"Meaning?"
"She occupied the land. She maintained the property. She paid the taxes. For a long time. The law can look favorably upon all of that in terms of conferring ownership."
"So I still don't have a firm answer as to whether or not I can buy the land?"
"Certainly, the lack of a clear title strengthens your hand."
Raul fretted at the uncertainty. But construction could not start until spring. Although he'd spotted snowdrops yesterday in a sun-warmed patch in his garden, snow was still deep in the mountains. "Time is not on Alessandra's side," he said, not sur
e how he felt about that. He was starting to like her a little too much to be comfortable in his role fighting her. But, he needed the land, and her claim was fraudulent. There was no other course of action to take. "She's in Austria on a two week vacation. Then she has to return to her job in the U.S."
Stephano drew on his cigar. "How do you know that?"
"She let it slip when we had dinner with the Devonwoods. I don't think she realized I could take advantage of the information."
"If she can't prove her claim to be Adela's granddaughter and heir—two separate legal questions—the issue of clearing the title is moot, at least with respect to her." Stephano stubbed out the cigar. "All in all, her claim is fairly weak."
