“It suited your purpose better when you found out I was into her,” Luca finished darkly.
“I made the mistake of showing her letter to Mother.” Luca could imagine his friend grimacing. “She had a nervous attack. I had Sabrina Connelly shadowed, and I learned that she had flown in to Seirenada. I was concerned what she might do while the rest of the family was there.” Markos laughed darkly. “Seems I was right to have been concerned.”
Luca bit back his stinging retort. The mess at the reception could have been avoided if Markos hadn’t brushed off Sabrina’s communications. But he also admitted that it might not have led to that if he hadn’t participated and struck that bargain with her and if she hadn’t gone back on her word.
Everything was water under the bridge. They could go on and on about the issue. Markos wasn’t ready to admit Sabrina was his sister until there was proof, and he knew in his gut that she wouldn’t provide it.
Which left him the only other thing he wanted to discuss.
Eleni.
“Markos, I want Eleni accountable for her actions at the reception.” Luca relayed what his ex-lover had done to Sabrina and also the prior incident at the bar.
“You should have told me before,” Markos said grimly. Since Eleni’s parents were dead, he acted as her guardian, even if she was a grown woman.
“I thought it was a one time thing, that time at the bar in Milan. I realize my mistake now,” Luca admitted. “There were no other witnesses at the Palace when it happened. And of course there were no CCTV cameras in the powder room where it transpired. Sabrina can’t file charges since Eleni flew out of Seirenada the day after the wedding.”
“I’ll talk to her when I get back to Athens.”
“Get her professional help, Markos,” Luca demanded, “before she really hurts someone.”
“I will. I’ll pull out Konstantinos Worldwide from her roster of clients if she doesn’t.”
“Good,” Luca replied. He had to be content with Markos’ word at the moment. If there was anything Eleni cared about in the world, it was her business. “She needs it.”
Then, “You’re not in Athens right now?”
There was a beat before Markos answered.“No.”
Luca waited for him to elaborate. His curiosity was stoked when he didn’t. “So, where are you?”
“I’m in Milan.”
“Milan?” Luca frowned. It wasn’t unusual for Markos to fly out to different locations to check out the hotels, but the way he hesitated about his whereabouts had him suspicious. Then he knew. “Your new girlfriend is Milanese?”
“Something like that,” Markos answered evasively.
Luca shook his head. Probably another airhead model. “While you’re there, could you check on Chiara?”
Markus coughed violently. Luca pulled the mobile away from his ear until his friend’s coughing had subsided.
“Mama is on a cruise and she won’t be in Milan for another week. Chiara says she’s fine but she still sounds run down.” Luca’s brow furrowed deeper. “You’re not coming down with a cold, are you?”
“No. I’m fine.” Markus cleared his throat several times. “Yes. I’ll check on Chiara.”
“Thanks,” Luca said gruffly. “By the way, I’m sorry for punching you in the eye.”
Markos grunted.
Which Luca translated as “apology accepted.”
“You deserved it, you know.”
Another grunt.
Which translated to “I know. You don’t have to rub it in.”
The door to the salon swung open as he disconnected his call with Markos. Sabrina came in.
“I thought you were in the parlor,” he said. She sat on the couch beside him. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
“I’m going there in a few minutes,” she gasped, evading his mouth as he wanted to do more than just give her a chaste peck. “I just wanted to give you this first.” She scrambled a few inches away, thrusting a paper bag at him.
“What is it?”
“Something I made once my stuff from the villa arrived this morning.”
Luca glanced at her, noticing her uncertain, eager smile. He reached inside the bag and pulled out a black, woven leather bracelet. In the center was a red shard wrapped in twisted silver metal wire. He recognized it immediately. It was the piece of sea glass she found on the beach the day they had met.
“Doyoulikeit?” she said in a breathless rush, then groaned. She wrung her hands and continued. “Of course you’ll say you like it because you’ll be polite and you wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings even if it’s crap but if you don’t like it I could rework it if you think it’s too feminine and-”
Luca placed a finger on her lips.
She blinked.
“I love it,” he said solemnly, gazing into her beautiful mismatched eyes. He wished he could say it to her, but he had a feeling it might be too soon.
“I love you, too,” she answered right back. Then she paled, realizing what she had just said. “I m-meant ‘I love it too,’” she stammered. “The bracelet. That’s what I love too. The bracelet.” Then just like the first time they met, her neck turned red and the blush bloomed adorably on her cheeks and spread to the tips of her ears.
She stood up quickly from the couch, almost tripping on the rug in her haste. “Er-I’d better get going. I don’t want to hold up the make-up artist. He’s sure to be very busy.”
Luca couldn’t stop the delighted grin that pulled at his lips. “I’ll see you later then.” She was by the door when he called out. “Strega.”
She paused, turning to him with a wary expression.
He raised his forearm, the bracelet now clasped around his wrist. “Grazie. I love it. Very much.”
She jerked her head once then hightailed it out of the room.
Minutes later, his frowning assistant found him still grinning like a fool.
“You’re needed at the press room, sir,” Olivia said crisply.
Luca rose from the couch, Olivia’s presence stopping him from doing a happy jig. “How do you like my band?” He thrust out his forearm at his perplexed assistant.
“Nice,” Olivia said without enthusiasm. She was so serious with her buttoned-down suits and hair pulled back in a harsh bun.
“Just nice?” Luca asked incredulously. “I fucking love it.”
“I stand corrected, sir,” Olivia said politely. “It’s fucking lovely.”
“Are you suddenly going all cheeky after all these months you’ve worked for me, Olivia?” Luca said with mock seriousness as they exited the salon.
“Just an aberration, sir. I assure you it won’t happen again,” she retorted tonelessly.
“I doubt it.”
Olivia cracked a smile. “If you say so, sir.”
Luca chuckled. His good mood carried him through the press interviews, normally something he didn’t relish doing.
Chapter 25
Sabrina got the full salon treatment this time at the yacht parlor. There was a mini fashion show where models would parade items to be sold for the various Argenti causes. As such, there were several make-up and hair stylists. Antonia squeezed her into a slot when the models were done with their preparation.
Luca was off entertaining some early arriving guests, including some people from the press.
“How do I look?”
Chase had arrived early for moral support, looking like the A-list Hollywood star that he was in a sleek charcoal gray suit. They were in one of the smaller salons. He lifted his finger in the air and twirled it.
Sabrina did a 360-degree turn so Chase could appreciate the gown from all angles.
“You look stunning, Bree. Your lover has impeccable taste.”
Sabrina’s cheeks warmed, recalling what she had accidentally blurted to her ‘lover’ earlier. Boyfriend implied some sort of long-standing commitment. They had known each other for only a few days, so she guessed Chase’s term for Luca was apt.
�
��Shall we?”
Sabrina linked her arm with Chase and together they navigated the party. Some of the guests were scattered on several decks, but most had congregated by the pool. A walkway had been laid out over the whole length of it, which was lit by tea candles. It gave the illusion of a floating ramp. Chairs were arranged on all sides to afford guests a close view of the fashion show.
Sabrina bumped into Antonia, who looked calm and in control. She wondered how often the Argentis entertained.
“Signor Luca is in the main salon,” she said, even before Sabrina could voice the question.
“Go ahead,” Chase said. “I spotted the duke and his wife.” He tipped his head to a couple who was standing by the railing.
The handsome, blond-haired man, as if sensing he was being talked about, swiveled his head and honed in on Chase. The pretty brunette standing by his side followed his gaze. Her face broke into a smile and she waved, beckoning Chase to join them.
“I’ll see you in a bit then,” Sabrina mouthed, feeling less guilty about leaving Chase to his own devices. She entered the salon, surprised to find Luca in the middle of an interview. Lights were trained on him and the interviewer, a svelte redhead who was thrusting her chest out and making googly eyes at Luca.
He didn’t give any sign he had noticed her, but Sabrina knew he was aware of her presence the second she walked into the room. She settled into a chair in a corner unobtrusively.
The interview was in English, thank God. The interviewer sounded British.
Luca was charming, urbane, and polite as he fielded each question like a pro. He looked relaxed, seated with a leg over the other, the picture of sartorial elegance, an ambassador of the Argenti brand. He was now talking about the charities that the company supported.
Sabrina’s heart swelled with pride. His eyes flicked to where she was, just a millisecond glance, and she knew he was gauging her reaction to the interview.
She smiled broadly. He would see it in his peripheral vision. He leaned back, and Sabrina’s attention was drawn to the hem of his pants. She saw his socks, saw they were a plain brown, and felt a strange kind of disappointment that he hadn’t worn something quirky. He started swinging his leg in an impatient motion, and Sabrina frowned at this uncharacteristic mannerism. His restless movement allowed her a glimpse of his other sock. She blinked.
His other sock was plain too, but it was colored blue.
Her eyes darted to his twinkling ones. She covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
Luca grinned widely, and the interviewer appeared taken aback by his out of context reaction. Or probably she was just poleaxed by his devastating smile.
“I apologize,” he addressed the redhead. “My girlfriend just noticed my socks.” He made a fluid gesturing motion that appeared to have mesmerized the interviewer temporarily before she recovered.
“Your socks?” The woman’s gaze swung downward as well as the cameraman’s and his camera. She chuckled. “They’re mismatched!”
“Yes, they are.” Luca was too jovial for someone who had just committed a fashion faux pas.
Sabrina’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“I once came on air with mismatched earrings. It happens to the best of us, Mr. Argenti.”
“Yes, it does,” he agreed too smoothly. “Though I’d just like to add that sometimes, just because something’s not a perfect match doesn’t mean they don’t go together very well.”
“Are you being philosophical, Mr Argenti?” the redhead asked archly.
Luca grinned. “No. Just starting a new fashion trend. I believe we’re done here.” He rose from his seat and thanked the interviewer graciously. He removed the microphone from his lapel and walked straight to where she was.
“You look like a beautiful flame in that dress,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re burning me up.”
“Isn’t it the other way around?” She leaned back and gazed up at him, a spark in her beautiful eyes.
“Other way around?”
“I’m the witch. I’m the one who should be burning.”
His bark of laughter startled the cameraman, who was packing up. “Let’s combust together, then.”
Sabrina giggled. Luca basked in the sound. She looked so carefree and happy. He wanted a taste of it.
He cupped her face with both hands, leaned down, and touched his lips to hers. He felt the imprint of her wide smile under his own. He wanted more. His tongue swept from one end of her upper lip to the other, trying to learn the curve and dip and shape of her happy smile. But her smile vanished. Her lips parted. Luca groaned.
He accepted her invitation for more.
He began kissing her like a drowning man desperate for air. His body, heart, and soul, it was hers, right from the moment he had first laid eyes on her on the beach.
The outside world vanished. Time became distorted. He didn’t know how long they stood there, kissing, locked in each other’s arms. Only the sudden dampness on his cheek pulled him back to reality. He lifted his head and saw her tears. He looked deep into her mismatched eyes shimmering with tears and swore he saw a vision of an old couple, walking hand in hand on a sandy shore. Was it a glimpse of their future?
Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight. To hell about it being too soon.
“I love you,” he blurted out, fearing his heart might burst if he kept it in any longer. “I love you,” he repeated, because the first time sounded rushed and his chest still felt tight. “I love you.” The third time was the charm and finally, he eased into breathing.
He realized he had been gripping her hands throughout his declaration. She was still crying. She opened her mouth several times, attempting to speak. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it in reassurance.
But Sabrina’s tears fell faster. “I told you not to make me fall for you,” she sniffed, “but you went ahead and did it anyway.” She sniffed again. And again.
While he waited…
And waited…
He wanted her to say it again, declare it, and not make it just a slip of the tongue like what happened earlier when she gave him the bracelet.
He tamped down the acute disappointment he felt. It didn’t matter that she didn’t say it back. He could wait for the words. He already knew what was in her heart. “So now it’s my fault, witch?” he teased, striving for composure.
“Totally,” she replied, swiping her knuckles across her cheeks. It further messed up the dark mascara tracks her tears had made. Before he could wipe them off with his handkerchief, she had grasped the lapel of his coat and pushed herself up on her toes. She touched her lip to his ear. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
Her words sent tremors racing through his body. The relief and happiness that surged in him almost brought him to his knees. Sabrina stretched higher, balancing on her toes, and tried to wrap her arms around his neck but fell short and stumbled.
Luca caught her and brought her body flush against his. “I got you. No matter how many times you fall, I’ll catch you.”
Sabrina smiled tremulously up at him. “You always do.”
He wanted to beat his chest. Punch his fist in the air. Do backflips. Anything to expel this giddy, nervous energy.
She gasped when he swooped her into his arms. He lay her down gently on the wide couch that had been pushed near a wall to make space for the interview.
“Time to go up in flames, strega,” he rasped, his body covering hers. Time to channel that giddy, nervous energy into something mutually pleasurable.
“Bring it on,” his witch purred.
And he did.
* * *
Olivia knocked three times. Loudly. With sufficient intervals in between.
She sighed, turned the handle of the doorknob, and stepped inside the mock-up press room. She cleared her throat, waited a few moments, then cleared it again.
No response.
Drat.
“Sir,” she said in a carrying
voice. “The fashion show is about to start in fifteen minutes.”
A curse rent the air. There was the sound of fabric rustling. The rasp of a zipper. And giggling.
Olivia gave them two minutes before she turned around to assess the damage. She gazed at her usually impeccably dressed billionaire boss in bemusement. His hair was sticking out on ends. He had a smear of lipstick on his white shirt. She turned to his equally rumpled girlfriend, her chignon a disaster and her gown creased beyond recognition.
She spoke into her handheld radio. “Get me hair and make-up to the salon, second deck, right now. I need a fresh white shirt and a steam iron. Stat.”
Her boss and his girlfriend looked like naughty children caught with their hands inside the cookie jar.
They also looked nauseatingly hearts-in-their-eyes in love. The way they were staring at each other…God, couldn’t they just get a room…?
They did, her inner voice snickered, and you barged right into it.
The handheld radio crackled. A female voice spoke in a torrent of Italian. Worried Italian.
“I found them, Antonia,” Olivia answered reassuringly. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Her boss flashed her an unrepentant, cocky grin.
His girlfriend blushed a bright red.
And Olivia, she couldn’t help it. She cracked a smile.
THE END
Also by Suzette de Borja
The Entitled Series
The Princess Finds Her Match
The Duke Takes a Bride
House of Argenti Series
When She Fell for the Billionaire
About the Author
Suzette de Borja hasn’t recovered from the childhood trauma of not qualifying for the spelling bee quiz during a school contest. You can often find her with a handheld gadget or a laptop trying not to be socially (media) awkward on the Internet. She lives in an urban jungle in Manila with her supportive husband and daughter, who remains convinced she is half-girl, half-unicorn.
When She Fell for the Billionaire Page 22
