If the Ring Fits...

by Jackie Braun

  “But you believe it best to keep what is between us strictly professional,” he finished for her.

  “Yes.” That certainly made the most sense. She told herself she was relieved he agreed. Whatever it was she felt, it would be short-lived.

  “Perhaps you will give me the opportunity to convince you otherwise in the future.” Her mouth fell open again. As she sat on the sofa trying to digest his words, Tony stood. “You still may have the use of my home. And, of course, my interest in your career has no bearing on what does or does not transpire between the two of us romantically.”

  “Sexually, you mean,” she said bluntly.

  His smile was self-assured and so sexy it made her toes want to curl. “You can have romance without sex and sex without romance, but they are better when paired together. I will leave you to decide what it is that you want, Rachel.”

  He started for the door.

  What she wanted? She was far from certain, but one thing was clear suddenly. She was tired of making sense and toeing the line. She was tired of making compromises that left her feeling shortchanged and foolish. She’d used her head rather than following her heart when she’d married Mal. Look at where that had gotten her. She was divorced, out of a home and had barely managed to hold on to her business thanks to the settlement and the low sale price of their house.

  “Tony, wait!” She pushed to her feet and met up with him in the foyer. “I appreciate your offer. Offers,” she added, stressing the s before blurting out, “I want to take you up on them.”

  “All of them?”

  Surprise lit his dark eyes, and no wonder. A little clarification was in order. She was neither that brave nor that impulsive. “Numbers one and two for sure. The third, we’ll have to see.”

  “Then perhaps I should give you something to ponder while I am gone.”

  He drew her close as his head dipped down. His mouth was hot when it met hers. His breathing was steady, even though she couldn’t seem to draw air. She felt his hand on the small of her back beneath the sweatshirt. His splayed fingers and palm were warm against her spine as they applied just enough pressure to bring her body snug against his. Her hormones began to pop and fizz like the bubbles in a celebratory glass of champagne. It wasn’t just desire she felt. Even that would have been surprising. She felt desirable…and feminine…and reawakened. That sort of validation was utterly intoxicating after her long winter of discontent and self-doubt.

  Their roles reversed then. It wasn’t Tony she couldn’t trust. It was herself. Rachel brought her hands to his chest, intending to cut the encounter short. But as the kiss deepened, her arms wound around his neck.

  A moment more, just one moment more, she pleaded with her conscience.

  Tony took advantage of her weakness, shifting their bodies until her back was pressed against the wall in the foyer. One of her legs was in danger of winding around his waist when the bell rang. Heidi pushed open the door even before Rachel had a chance to set both feet on the floor.

  “Oh!” Heidi’s eyes rounded comically as she divided her gaze between Rachel and Tony.

  He recovered first.

  “You must be Rachel’s sister.”

  “And you must be every woman’s fantasy,” Heidi replied without missing a beat. She set a bag from a local fast-food restaurant on the console table and pulled off her gloves.

  “I prefer to be called Tony.”

  Heidi laughed as he extended his right hand. He looked more amused than embarrassed. Meanwhile, Rachel wasn’t sure how much longer she could remain upright without the support of either the foyer’s wall or Tony’s lean body. Her legs had turned to jelly.

  “Hello, Tony. I’m Heidi. Rachel didn’t mention she was going to have company.”

  “I stopped by unannounced.”

  “How lucky for her.”

  “He’s a client,” Rachel said.

  Both of them glanced her way. Neither appeared convinced. Heidi, in fact, appeared to be on the verge of laughter.

  “I was just leaving,” Tony said.

  “Don’t let me chase you away.”

  “Actually, I have a plane to catch.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  He smiled at Rachel. “I was thinking that very thing.”

  Despite the fact that her feet were bare, Rachel followed him out onto the porch. He dug into his pocket then and produced a key ring and a slip of paper. “These are to my house. You have the address on file. I wrote down the instructions for the front gate and the security alarm. If you need anything, I will be in New York tonight. After that, you can reach me either by cell or by calling my office in Rome.”

  “Tony—”

  “Ciao, bella.” His kissed her cheek and left.

  When she stepped back inside, she was greeted by Heidi’s Cheshire-cat grin.

  “Don’t say anything,” Rachel warned.

  Heidi held up her hands. “I’m not sure I know what to say. Other than hubba-hubba. Just where have you been hiding Mr. Tall, Dark and Sexy?”

  “I haven’t been hiding him anywhere.”

  “That’s right. He’s a client.” Heidi winked.

  “He is.”

  Her sister snatched the keychain out of Rachel’s hand. “Oh, my God! He gave you the keys to his house.”

  “That’s because I’m going to live there. Just until I get the renovations completed on the apartment over the shop.”

  Heidi’s expression said she wasn’t buying it. But then her skepticism transformed to concern. “I know I’ve been urging you to date, Rach, but maybe you need to take things a little slower. You’re moving in with him?”

  “He won’t be there. You heard him. He’s on his way to the airport. I’ll be house-sitting for him. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Heidi crossed her arms. “You were wrapped around the man like an ivy vine.”

  Rachel exhaled slowly. “I know how it looked, but we’re not dating. Tony is a client.”

  “Just a client? He’s offering you the use of his home. That seems a little bit chummy to me.”

  Rachel ignored her. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

  “Nothing?” Heidi prodded, brows raised.

  Rachel considered the proposals Tony had made. Even if she had only agreed to the professional ones so far, there was indeed something going on between them. Heidi would want to know everything.

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s a shame.” Her sister sighed. “He’s so hot.”

  Since Rachel’s pulse had yet to return to normal, she had to agree.

  * * *

  Later that day, Rachel drove to Tony’s house. House wasn’t an apt description. She lived in a house. He lived in what would be categorized as a mansion on an estate. The massive stuccoed two-story was set back off the road. Its sizable yard was surrounded by decorative wrought-iron fencing that made it plain that trespassing was not allowed.

  Even though no one was home, Rachel felt underdressed for the occasion as she stopped at the gate and punched the password into the keypad. On a mechanical groan, the arms of the gate swung open in welcome.

  The driveway was paved in redbrick and lined with trees that already had shed most of their leaves. As bare as their branches were, they remained stately and dignified. Rachel parked under the portico that arched from the grand front entrance, which was girded by massive white columns.

  After using Tony’s key, she consulted his note once again to deactivate the alarm, then she took a look around and caught her breath. Even standing in the foyer it was clear the inside was every bit as impressive as the outside had been. She slipped off her shoes and padded in her stocking feet into the living room. Tall south-facing windows flanked a fireplace that lent the large room a cozy air. She came across the dining room next. It was formal, but the eclectic assortment of art displayed both on the walls and on the sideboard made it more interesting than staid. His collection made it clear he had the eye and the wallet of a
passionate collector.

  Passionate. The word summed up Tony in a nutshell.

  She passed through a small hallway that held a butler’s pantry before entering the kitchen. Since she doubted Tony cooked, the commercial-grade stainless-steel appliances and expansive granite-topped island probably saw little use, but she could picture him sitting in the nook drinking his morning coffee, or more likely espresso, she decided, spying the maker on the countertop next to the six-burner gas stove.

  A handwritten note was next to it. Rachel read it: “I have a standing account with a local market for groceries that are delivered each week. You are welcome to update the list to suit your needs. Might I suggest you keep the steak order?”

  She pictured him smiling as he penned that last bit.

  After a glance at the pantry, powder room and laundry, she mounted the steps to the second floor to check out the bedrooms. She came to the master first and couldn’t resist opening the double doors and sneaking a peek. Opulent was the word that came to mind given the room’s luxuriousness. It was a feast of rich colors and textures. Its walls were decorated with original art as well as some first-class reproductions. Tony definitely had an eye for beauty. Because her gaze kept straying to the king-size bed, she headed for the master bath. It turned out that the fireplace in the bedroom was double-sided. The lighting, sound system—even the window shade—were all controlled by a remote. As for the tub, it was indeed large enough to accommodate two bathers, just as he’d previously claimed. Fanning herself, she hurried out only to be confronted by that massive bed. It was way too easy to picture him lounging amid the avalanche of pillows, wearing…

  Her cell phone trilled and she jumped before pulling it from her purse. It was Tony. Of course. The man seemed to have a sixth sense where she was concerned. Feeling unsettled and nosy, she backed out of the room before answering it.

  “Tony, hi.” Did she sound breathless? She forced a laugh. “Or should I say, buona serra?”

  “Your accent is pretty good,” he replied. “Have you had a chance to stop over at my house yet?”

  “Actually, I’m here right now.”

  “Ah. Excellent.”

  “You have a lovely place, Tony.”

  “Thank you. What do you think of the art in my bedroom?” he asked nonchalantly.

  “Wh-what do you mean?” Rachel glanced around the hallway, half expecting to spot a camera. “Why would I go in your bedroom?”

  “Women are that way.”

  His arrogance was all the more irritating because he was right. She chose to ignore the question and asked one of her own. “Which room should I use?”

  “Whichever one you prefer. And that includes the master. You’ll find the bed exceptionally comfortable. I can picture you there.”

  “Can you?” She quashed a shiver, forced her tone to remain nonchalant. “I can’t.”

  “Which tells me two things, carina.”

  “And they are?”

  “One, you did look in my room.” His laughter rumbled, the sound rich and inviting, although since it came at her expense she didn’t join in.

  “And the other thing?”

  “If you cannot picture yourself there you need to try harder. I will talk to you soon.”

  With that he hung up, which was just as well. The last thing Rachel needed to be doing right now was picturing either of them, much less both of them, in that decadent-looking king-size bed.

  * * *

  Late that evening, Tony settled on the couch in his Manhattan apartment with a glass of wine. His flight from Detroit’s Metropolitan Airport to LaGuardia had been delayed by a couple of hours, giving him plenty of time to think. Too much time, perhaps.

  Rachel was moving into his house.

  He knew better than to think that she would sleep in his bed. He sipped his merlot. That would take time and finesse on his part. The three months he expected to be away would give him the perfect opportunity to romance her. He believed in romance. It was a dance of sorts, a means to an end. Pretty words, sparkly trinkets, stolen kisses and fleeting caresses—they not only ensured the end result, in Tony’s experience, they made it all the more enjoyable.

  Besides, Rachel deserved romance.

  He frowned and pushed to his feet, then paced to the French doors that opened to a balcony that, during the day, offered a stunning panoramic view of Central Park. Even though it was chilly, he went out and stood at the railing, immune to the sounds of traffic from the street below.

  He’d never met a woman more unaware of her innate attractiveness or more uncertain of her femininity. Repressed. He kept coming back to that word. It wasn’t that Tony only considered Rachel a challenge, though definitely she would be one. He wasn’t the sort of man who looked at women as conquests. He wasn’t that cold. He may have bruised a few hearts over the years, but he’d never intentionally set out to break any. That was why he ended his relationships before they could become too involved and messy. The most recent one with Astrid was a case in point. When she’d requested a key to his hotel suite in Stockholm, he’d known it was time to move on. He refused to consider how easily he’d handed over the key to his home to Rachel. But, then, Rachel hadn’t asked for it and had been hesitant to take it. He’d had to talk her into it, arguing the benefits of the arrangement. Indeed, she was a challenge on so many levels.

  Tony finished off his wine and went back inside. In the kitchen, he poured himself a second glass and thought of the pendant necklace Rachel had created for Astrid. He’d meant it when he’d told her he could take her places. He knew exactly the sort of people she needed to meet. People with pockets every bit as deep as his own who would be willing not only to purchase her wares but bankroll an expanded business venture. He could do it himself, but he wasn’t sure that was the best idea since he wanted to sleep with her, too.

  The phone rang as he made a mental list. Glancing at the caller ID, he sighed before answering. It was his mother.

  “Buona serra, Mama.”

  She didn’t bother with pleasantries, she launched into a lecture. “You said you would call to let me know you arrived home safely.”

  “Mama, I am thirty-eight years old,” he reminded her.

  “And I am your mother. I worry, Tony. I worry the same now as I did when you were a chubby-cheeked toddler. Have babies of your own and you will understand.”

  He sidestepped what he knew would turn into a diatribe on his lifestyle and single status. “I am home safe. Just having some warm milk before I turn in for the night.”

  “It is a sin to lie to your mother. You are having wine.” Lucia’s laughter rumbled a moment, but then she grew serious. “I do worry about you, Tony. Thursday is Thanksgiving and you will be spending it alone. You need a wife, someone you love. You need a reason to want to stay home more.”

  It was an old conversation, but tonight it left him feeling unsettled. He blamed fatigue for the fact that the portrait of domestic bliss his mother painted with her words was juxtaposed against his attraction for a woman who soon would be setting up housekeeping in his home.

  CHAPTER SIX

  RACHEL sat across the table from her ex-husband in a conference room at the real-estate office. Mal’s girlfriend was seated next to him, her chair pulled snug against his. Any closer and Alyssa would have been in his lap. In addition to looking as if she could be cutting high-school math class to be there, her expression was annoyingly smug. And no wonder. She’d gotten everything. Rachel’s husband and now Rachel’s house.

  Well, she was welcome to both. Still, it rankled. Rachel felt duped. Again.

  “You could have mentioned that Alyssa was the buyer,” she said through gritted teeth. For that matter, their agent should have piped up about it during that first phone conversation. But Flora hadn’t breathed a word.

  “I didn’t see the relevance,” Mal replied in the same bored tone he’d used so often during the last year of their marriage.

  Next to him, Alyssa smacked her gu
m and smiled.

  Looking at him now, Rachel wondered why she’d tried so hard to save her marriage. Had it always been this obvious, how little the two of them had in common? How little they understood one another? Had she loved him or had she loved the idea of being married to someone the polar opposite of her irresponsible father? She had played it safe. She’d been a fool in more ways than one. She couldn’t blame Mal for that. But she could blame him for this.

  “You didn’t see the relevance?”

  Despite her best efforts, her voice rose. Mal glanced uncomfortably toward the open door. They were waiting for their agent to return with the necessary paperwork to finalize the sale. Alyssa didn’t have an agent. She’d used Flora to represent her in the sale. Conflict of interest was written all over the situation, as far as Rachel was concerned.

  “I wouldn’t have agreed to drop the price by ten grand, throw in the kitchen appliances and pay all of the closing costs had I realized that you would be moving back in and setting up housekeeping with your teenage paramour.”

  “Hey, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not a teenager,” Alyssa piped in. “I don’t know what a paramour is, but Mal and I are engaged now.”

  The young woman waggled the fingers on her left hand. The diamond, a brilliant-cut full carat set in platinum, sparkled festively under the florescent lights. Even without her jeweler’s loupe, Rachel could tell its quality probably didn’t match its price tag. Still, it made a nice complement to the oversized diamond earrings whose receipt Rachel had discovered, setting off the chain of events that found them here.

  Mal had the grace to flush. “I was going to tell you.”

  “Why? We’re divorced. But you’ll understand if I don’t offer my congratulations,” Rachel added drily.

  “You had to know it was coming.”

  “Just like I should have known you were cheating on me?”

  Across the table, Mal flushed again, but this time Rachel saw temper flare in his eyes.

  “You were always so damned busy with your shop. You weren’t content just to own the place. No. You had to start designing jewelry. It got to be that was all you cared about.”