Princess Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Italian Affair
Page 4
“Please clean up, Carlotta. I’m going to bed.”
The concern intensified and her friend took a step forward, but Natalia waved her off.
Once upstairs, she slipped off her heels and tossed them haphazardly in the direction of her wardrobe. Stripping off the dress she left that, too, in an uncharacteristic heap on the floor and wrapped her dressing gown around her.
Natalia took the time to wash her face and get ready for bed, though she was too restless to sleep. Still, it gave her something to do while she waited for Carlo to reach home.
For a moment, she debated letting Adam know about this note, but no. That was stupid, and Natalia had had quite enough of being stupid tonight. She’d speak to Carlo, try to figure out what the hell had happened, and decide her next step from there.
Finally deeming enough time had passed, Natalia picked up the phone and dialed. Curling on her window seat, she looked out over the view and waited for Carlo to pick up. He must’ve been waiting for her as well, for he answered almost immediately.
“Natalia.”
“Carlo, I’m sorry for what happened,” she began in Italian, the words fluid on her tongue, though she still felt a knot tightening in her belly.
“This Clayworth man,” Carlo interrupted, his Italian short and hard. “Do you truly trust him?”
The rest of her words died on her tongue. Taken aback, Natalia wanted to answer immediately with a short no. But she thought about it and what she knew of him, of Gideon and Sabrina, who considered this man a good friend. Adam was hard, she’d seen that tonight, but he wasn’t one for idle gossip or rumor.
“He seems to be,” she admitted. “Carlo, what is this about?”
“Don’t pretend with me, Natalia.” She’d never heard Carlo so angry, so curt. “I’m sure he’s told you.”
Her free hand curled on her lap, short nails digging into her palm. She really wished someone told her what the hell was going on! Natalia took a deep breath and started to say as calmly as she could that she had no idea.
She held her tongue instead. She wanted to know what this was about, and that curiosity went far beyond simple inquisitiveness. Suddenly Natalia had the feeling there was much more to it than Adam had insinuated.
Sighing, Natalia tried a different tactic. “Carlo. What do you want to do?”
“Fine. Fine.” Carlo growled the agreement and Natalia’s heart twisted. “I will speak with your Mr. Clayworth.”
Ha! He wasn’t hers, but Natalia wisely kept that to herself.
“But,” Carlo added, “only through you or with you.”
Frowning, she wondered why, but wasn’t going to ask. Not in this suddenly volatile situation she’d found herself in.
“If they see me with you present, it will raise no eyebrows. They’ll simply believe I cultivated a new client.”
Oh good Lord, she really was in some sort of clandestine spy trap! Natalia blinked at her reflection in the window and wondered when the night had taken such a turn.
“Being seen alone with Clayworth would raise too many eyebrows.” Carlo cursed and then sighed. “If he isn’t your paramour, make it look like he is.”
Not certain if she was comfortable with that, Natalia shifted on the seat and tugged her robe closer around her. “When should we meet?” she asked instead.
“Give me a few days to collect information.” He sighed again. “I will call you. And if you need me, this is the only number you should call. Rosina need not be made aware of our conversations. Not yet.”
Natalia nodded though he couldn’t see her, and stood to put the number in a safe place. She didn’t want to add it to her mobile contacts, and given the sudden seriousness of the situation, wanted no one—not even Carlotta—to discover it. Deciding to hide the paper beneath a pair of winter heels, and feeling foolish for doing so and like a curvy Bond girl, Natalia agreed.
“All right, Carlo. I won’t say a word,” she promised, not entirely sure what those words would be, anyway. Then, because she felt as if she needed to add something to this whole strange conversation, she said, “Just make sure the information is thorough.”
Did that make her sound like the first curvy Bond girl? Or was it just off? Given as this was her first try, Natalia thought she sounded rather good.
Carlo humphed. “I never knew you were so demanding, Natalia. But I should’ve guessed.”
What was that supposed to mean? Natalia scowled at the phone and hung up. Dropping the phone onto her vanity, she studied herself for a moment then smiled.
“Yes.” She nodded in appreciation and slight smugness. “A femme fatale. The sassy curvy girl who gets all of James Bond’s information for him.”
Then again, how dangerous was this going to be? Carlo didn’t even want to see Adam unless in the company of her, and Carlo associated with hundreds of people, so far as Natalia knew. What the hell was Adam involved with?
A shiver of apprehension raced up her spine, and Natalia turned from the vanity. She’d call Adam tomorrow and set up a meeting.
Damn. So much for her femme fatale role. Once again she hadn’t even gotten his number. All right—first she’d call Sabrina and pretend a very personal interest in Adam.
Chapter Five
The problem with calling Sabrina was that she was now off with Gideon in Rome doing hotel things and wasn’t answering her phone. Natalia frowned as she left a message as vague about Adam as she could manage. It was humbling to admit to Sabrina, despite their friendship, that she wanted Adam’s number and hadn’t got it herself.
Humbling and a little annoying, but Natalia let that go.
Because suddenly she found herself in the middle of some sort of financial intrigue. Then again, she wondered as she tapped her mobile against the kitchen counter, maybe it wasn’t intrigue. Maybe it was a simple accounting error. Or a trade issue.
Probably not the life-or-death action-packed terrorist scene she saw in the movies.
Was Adam even in trade? Carlo wouldn’t have reacted the way he had if it was simply a misunderstanding. And he certainly wouldn’t have made that comment about they seeing him with Adam so long as he was with her.
How had a simple flirtation turned into this? She’d wanted Adam, had made an advance on him, and had been rejected. Shot down, as Gina would say.
This was not how she’d envisioned her week going.
She’d sent Carlotta out to the market for food, to stock up for the week, and had called into the office to tell Violet she wasn’t going to be in today. That had gone over about as well as Natalia expected, what with her having left early last night and now this. She was sure the rumors were flying through the office. Speculation about her and Adam no doubt already had them on a private yacht in several very interesting positions.
They’d never know the extent of her involvement with this infuriating man. Because it was a secret. Right?
Natalia glared at the mobile and shoved it in her pocket. She wished Sabrina would call. Pouring an iced coffee and grabbing a pastry from the freshly made pile Carlotta had left, she turned to head back to her office.
Halfway up the stairs, the doorbell rang. Cursing, she turned on the step and backtracked to the foyer. She set the glass and plate on a small end table and opened the door.
A huge floral bouquet greeted her. Oh my, they were beautiful. “Grazie, grazie,” she told the deliveryman and moved forward to take the arrangement from him.
Adam held the flowers. Shocked, Natalia blinked up at him, the vase caught between them in an awkward hold. She dropped her hands and stepped back. Without waiting for an invitation, he entered her townhouse and kicked her door close.
“I brought these as an apology,” he said the instant the door clicked shut behind him. “I never should’ve put you in such a delicate situation.”
“No. You shouldn’t have.”
But his sincerity tugged her heart, and Natalia nodded. She took the vase from him and set it on the end table, grabbed her iced coffee
, and gestured for the front parlor. Carlo’s words came back to her and Natalia had the absurd feeling she needed to hide Adam. And it was absurd. So she showed him into the parlor.
She sat on the settee and turned expectantly to Adam.
“I’m shocked you haven’t thrown me out again,” he admitted with a small smile. “I guess the flowers did their job?” His voice was low and entreating.
Humph. Natalia firmly ignored that infuriating smile and the little tilt of his head. She refused to let those dark eyes seduce her from her anger. No more was she going to disrobe him with her eyes. That was in the past.
“Apparently you did your job as well, last night,” Natalia admitted in a cool voice and sipped her coffee.
He frowned, one eyebrow rising curiously and those kissable lips pursed in confusion. Natalia ignored his lips, too, as he sat opposite her in one of the overstuffed chairs she had around the low table. He leaned forward slightly.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I found a note, surreptitiously hidden by Carlo, after you left.” She dropped her voice, though didn’t know why.
“And what did it say?” Adam’s other eyebrow raised as well, but otherwise he showed no sign of interest.
Natalia knew differently, however. She may not be able to read him fully, but now that she knew what the note meant, and what Carlo had said to her last night, Adam couldn’t hide his interest no matter how coolly he played his part.
Coy herself, and searching for more clues to Adam Clayworth, she hid a smile behind her glass.
“It asked me to call him.”
Adam blinked in surprise, and Natalia’s smile widened for a beat. Then she set her glass down. As fun as it was to lead Adam on, she knew whatever business lay between Adam and Carlo was serious.
“Natalia.” Adam’s voice shot across the short distance between them. “What transpired between you and Carlo after I left?”
“I don’t know what exactly is transpiring between the two of you,” she said, using his words and gauging his reaction. He showed none. “But Carlo is under the impression I do know.” She shrugged. “He’s agreed to collect information for you but will not pass it along unless it’s through me or with me at your side.”
“Why have you intertwined yourself in this?” he demanded and stood now, shoving his hands in his pockets, clearly angry as he looked down at her. “You don’t belong in the dealings between Carlo and myself.”
Standing as well, she pointed at him. “You involved me the moment you used my dinner party for your own needs!”
Adam took a deep breath, but the storm in his eyes didn’t abate. “What do you know of this?” he ground out. “What exactly did he tell you?”
Natalia took a deep breath and calmed herself. She’d agreed to help the moment she pretended with Carlo she knew what in hell was going on. She’d put herself in the middle of whatever this was, whether she wanted to be there or not.
“He assumed I knew something,” she admitted, her anger from last night returning cold now. “That I worked with you. And I allowed him to maintain that impression.”
Jaw clenched, Adam stared at her as if he could make her words untrue simply from his look. The cleft at his chin stood out starkly but Adam held himself so still, so utterly still, Natalia wondered if he wasn’t indeed a spy of some sort.
“You need to tell him to come directly to me,” he insisted.
“He won’t.” She dismissed his words with a flick of her wrist, but kept her gaze steady on his. “And Carlo has made that perfectly clear.” Natalia took a deep breath. “You need to include me in this clandestine affair of yours.”
Adam whirled from her, all coiled grace and fury, and Natalia absolutely hated that she was attracted to that. His hands fisted against his sides, but he still held himself closed off. She heard him expel a long, loud breath and mutter something—or growl it, she couldn’t tell—before he turned back to face her.
“If you help me with this,” he said and closed the distance between them. His hands were warm on her bare arms, fingers tight against her skin. “You must promise me, swear to me, you’ll do precisely as I instruct.”
A flutter of fear danced through her, not from Adam but from the situation she suddenly found herself in. Natalia nodded. She had no other choice, not now.
“Carlo cannot possibly be an evil mastermind,” she said, her voice far braver than she suddenly felt. “I’ll do as you ask, but do not seem so worried.”
She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.
Adam looked more than worried, but she chose not to comment on it. Natalia had a feeling her life had become far more complicated than even she realized.
“This can’t possibly be—”
“It is.” He interrupted her so quietly, it sounded like an explosion. His fingers loosened slightly, but he didn’t let her go. “Carlo Samboti is involved in a scheme which has hidden the wealth of certain individuals. Those accounts aren’t kept on a computer; they’re not given numbers or names. The money is counted by hand and notes are passed. It’s an old banking system he works with, and his position at his bank is simply a cover.”
She had not expected that. She had most certainly never thought Carlo involved in schemes like that. Italian banking being what it was, Natalia knew he wasn’t entirely clean, but this? This sounded far, far worse.
Forcing her attention back on what Adam was saying, Natalia swallowed hard.
“I need to trap all the people who use his services,” Adam continued and she barely heard him. “And I don’t have to tell you those sorts of people aren’t upstanding citizens.”
What had she gotten herself into? Eyes wide, and feeling very much trapped, she stared at him.
“Do you want to back out?” Adam asked gently.
It was only then that Natalia realized his thumbs lightly caressed her arms. He looked at her with such concern, she knew he was worried. Specifically, worried for her. It was a sharp contrast to the way this conversation came about with last night’s dinner party and introduction. The way Adam currently watched her, not just watched but studied her reactions, Natalia felt it to her bones.
He didn’t want her involved, didn’t want to put her in the danger he, himself, faced.
A warmth she didn’t understand moved through her. It wasn’t the hot rush of arousal, it was more, though what it was, Natalia didn’t exactly understand.
How could she back out? Stop helping when it looked to be the only way for Adam to gather the information he needed? She’d effectively landed herself in the center of this. More than that, he needed her help. Natalia didn’t know how she was going to help other than being this intermediary, but she’d do it.
She raised her hands to his arms and curled her fingers over the rigid muscle there. Very quietly, Natalia said the only thing she could.
“I will help you.”
Adam nodded, a short jerk of his head that conveyed acceptance even if his eyes remained stormy and dark on hers.
“I almost wish you’d say no,” he whispered.
Once more that warmth tingled through her. Natalia pushed it back and told Adam somewhat dismissively, “I am not such a coward.
He watched her intently, searching, she thought, for more than her reasons for being involved in this thing with Carlo. Natalia cleared her throat and ignored the way his fingers felt on her arms.
“Carlo suggested we pretend to be lovers,” she heard herself say and found her confidence once more. She offered a cheeky smile and tilted her head back just enough to highlight the curve of her neck.
“That’s a good idea,” Adam agreed, still with that intense, intimate air surrounding him. The one that drew her in, closer to him. And was it her imagination his eyes traced the line of her throat? “It’ll deflect any suspicions.”
“Adam,” she said seriously, all thoughts of seduction pushed to the back of her mind. For now. “Are you with Interpol? Or that British agency, MI6?”
“Why is there not a policing official handling this?”
“Because no one understands this as clearly as I do,” Adam said with that same forceful quietness.
Natalia accepted his answer with a nod. Neither of them had moved away; his thumbs continued to barely brush her arms, her hands still wrapped around his, his face so close to hers.
“I hope it won’t be a hardship for us to pretend to be lovers.” Now there was humor dancing in his gaze. “To be romantically interested in me.”
Offering a wry twist of her lips, Natalia said in a breezy voice, “I think I can manage it.” She shifted closer, just enough to make her intentions known. “Can you?”
“I don’t have to pretend.” His voice was ragged now, bits of that control falling away.
Chapter Six
The sun shone brightly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the space and tempting her with a perfect Milanese day outside. At the moment, Natalia stood by her design table, with her pencil tapping against her sketchpad and gaze fixed out the window.
It was not procrastination, not really, and Natalia refused to let that awful word take hold. She was simply working in her fifth floor office, which she rarely used unless it was for a quiet moment after a meeting or to store her purse and coat.
Today, however, Natalia felt the need to use it. Her antique desk, her great-grandfather’s which she’d had shipped from their home in Sardinia when she acquired this building, was a large wooden construct filled with gilded edges, secret drawers, and such exquisite carvings it made Natalia mourn the loss of such handcrafted items.
No, what she felt wasn’t procrastination; it was simply that she didn’t wish to speak with anyone today. Normally a social woman who enjoyed talking with people, especially those who worked for her, Natalia wanted to stay to herself today. Be in her own head, so to speak. Her staff, however, noticed.