by K D Grace
Before she could recover from her outburst enough to apologize, he gathered her hand, brought her palm to his lips, and kissed it fervently. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘Sorry for what I just said. Sorry I don’t completely understand, but not sorry about how I smell to you. I’m so not sorry about that.’
‘Liza, hi, it’s me again. I’m … I’m just so, so sorry about what happened. It’s … Well I missed you so much, with us living so far apart. I just got lonely, and it … it just happened. She meant nothing to me, darling. You have to know that. We need to talk, Liza. Please. We can work this out. I know we can.’
Carl Blain listened as Liza’s voicemail played back his message. When he was certain it sounded acceptably contrite, he disconnected. The phone had rung over to Liza’s voicemail ever since his first attempt to call her after she caught him fucking Connie on the kitchen counter … or was it Courtney? He wasn’t so much sorry that he’d fucked Connie – she had one tight pussy – as he was sorry he’d gotten caught. In fact he really wasn’t as sorry as he was pissed off. What the hell was Liza thinking, showing up at his flat unexpected? He’d given her his key, yes, but it had only meant that he planned to fuck her the next time he saw her, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer after all her putting him off.
He contemplated the situation for a few moments then he called Liza’s business partner. He knew they were also good friends. It wouldn’t hurt to have her in his corner, and he figured he could charm her. As she picked up, he plastered on his best I’m-your-friend’s-sexy-lover smile and spoke. ‘Good morning, Addie,’ Carl forced his teeth into the smile to help him sound more cheerful even though he didn’t feel it. ‘Just wondering how things are going for Liza in Rome?’
‘As far as I know, just fine.’ He could hear the suspicion in her voice, like why the hell wouldn’t Liza have contacted the man she was dating with at least a text.
‘Well,’ he chuckled, ‘if I know our Liza, she’s probably already so focused on Martelli Fragrance that she’s forgotten all about both of us.’
On the other end of the phone, he heard the woman laugh softly. ‘She does tend to get a bit tunnel-visioned. And she was particularly excited about meeting Coraline Martelli in person. I got an email saying she was safely at the flat, but I’m sure I’ll get a full update when there’s something to tell, and so will you, no doubt.’
So, Liza hadn’t told her. That was both a relief and a surprise. He though the first thing women did when they were upset with their men was to commiserate with each other so they could discuss what bastards all men are.
‘Liza’s a law unto herself, Carl, and that’s what makes her so good at what she does.’
At least the woman had the good grace not to ask him how his night with Liza had gone. He wouldn’t have to lie. No doubt she’d hear all about it soon enough, but at least for the moment, she was blissfully ignorant. Just then, his cell phone rang. The display on the screen made his shoulders tighten and the coffee in his stomach turn to acid. ‘I’ve gotta go, Addie. I have another call. Have a lovely day, and give my love to Liza when you speak to her.’ He hung up and ground his teeth, then answered his cell.
‘What is it, Latimer?’ He didn’t try to hide his irritation. The PI knew not to call at his office.
‘I thought you’d like to know that my people have caught up with the lady in question in Rome.’
‘And how is that valuable to me? I knew she was going to Rome, and I knew what she was going to be doing there.’ That’s why Liza catching him banging Carrie or Kellie or whatever her name, was such a fiasco. He was counting on a little help from her while she was in Rome.
Latimer cleared his throat as though he was either embarrassed or he was about to impart the wisdom of the ages. ‘It’s not so much what she’s doing in Rome as who she’s doing in Rome, if you get me, Blain.’
‘Who she’s doing?’ Carl barely felt the arrogance of the man calling him by his last name. ‘What do you mean who she’s doing?’ He’d never met such a prude as Liza Calendar. How many times had he wined and dined her and she still hadn’t put out? It certainly wasn’t like he needed a piece. He could have it whenever he wanted, and he did. But Liza Calendar, well she was one of those women who wanted more than just a good fucking, and even that was OK considering what he wanted from her. In fact that had been perfect. And if she hadn’t caught him with his cock crammed up Connie, or Carrie’s cunt, he would have made their first time special for her and she would have had stars in her eyes and done exactly what he wanted. ‘What the fuck are you talking about, Latimer? Get on with it.’ He didn’t need the goddamned pause for effect.
‘Liza Calendar is doing A. P. Delacour.’
For a second, Carl could hear nothing over the loud ringing in his ears. Miss Sweet and Innocent was fucking Delacour? Seriously? He wondered how the man felt about her sneezing all over him.
‘Blain?’
‘You’re sure,’ Carl finally managed.
‘Deke, one of the attendants of the flight she was on – which coincidentally happened to be the same flight Delacour was on – said Delacour followed her back to coach then the two were all over each other before they finally snuck into the restroom. Now I can’t think of any other reason a man and a woman who were giving each other the grope would go into a toilet on an airplane together, can you?’
When Carl made no immediate response, Latimer continued. ‘There’s more. Two of my men did a little pick-pocket routine on her while she was out doing the touristy thing. Turned out to be a little rougher than they expected. The woman’s feisty.’
‘You didn’t hurt her, did you?’ Though at the moment a part of him didn’t care if they’d beaten the shit out of the bitch, she’d be of no use to him in the hospital.
‘No, no, of course not. But strangely enough, out of the blue, who should come to her rescue but Delacour himself. He took her back to his place, and then went about the business of giving her a personal tour or the Eternal City.’
Carl felt his stomach clench. It was unprofessional. That had been the excuse Liza Calendar had used repeatedly to put him off. It wasn’t until her article on Blain Holdings was finished that he could even get her to go out to dinner with him. He struggled to focus on what the man was saying.
‘Anyway, it seems that her first afternoon in Rome she actually met with the big three themselves.’
‘Seriously?’ Carl sat up straight in his chair and the leather squeaked beneath his ass. How the hell had she managed that when she was a nobody? Goddamn it! Why’d she have to come to his place early! This should have been information gathering for him! She should have been his ace in the hole!
‘Vera said the woman’s ballsiness was all Jim Dryer could talk about afterward. She said he was laughing at how Ms Calendar showed up sniffing around. Seems security brought her upstairs and right on into the lioness’s den. Apparently she not only came out in one piece, but she left the Queen Bitch smiling.’
Coraline Martelli smiling. That didn’t happen very often, unless she had just ripped someone’s throat out with her fangs. ‘So let me get this straight, Liza Calendar, sneezing, sniffing, snuffling Liza Calendar, has elbowed her way right on into the Martelli inner circle and she’s banging the man himself?’
‘The evidence is certainly pointing in that direction. Vera’s still trying to get in with either Dryer or Delacour, but it looks like Delacour is dipping his wick elsewhere now. She says Dryer’ll take the bait and she’ll be in in no time.’
Carl switched his phone to the other ear and flipped absently through the copy of The Wall Street Journal his secretary had delivered earlier. ‘I want you to keep on her, Latimer, and have Vera keep on her toes. Do you know where Liza’s staying?’ he asked.
Latimer gave him an address, which he wrote down quickly. Then he hung up and buzzed his secretary. ‘Sally, I need you to call the florist and have a very large, very expensive bouquet of flowers delivered to Number 14 Bernini Place in
Rome.’ He gave her the details then hung up and swiveled his chair to look out the window at Central Park far below. This was not at all how he’d planned things to work out between him and Liza Calendar, but he had to remind himself that most of the time plans didn’t work right out of the block. There were always back-up plans, and even back-ups of back-ups. His father had forgotten that when he’d tried to take down the Martelli Empire. Well, he wasn’t his father, and he wouldn’t forget, and his instincts told him that Liza Calendar was still very much a key player in his plan. He couldn’t for the life of him figure the sudden and very surprising sexual connection between her and Delacour. From what she’d told him, she didn’t know Delacour. She practically worshiped Coraline Martelli, and Jim Dryer was her ticket to the story she wanted to write. In fact, he couldn’t recall that she’d ever done more than brush his mentions of Delacour aside as though the man were of no importance at all. Perhaps she was a better player than he thought. Perhaps he needed to deliver more than a bouquet of flowers to Liza Calendar’s door.
Chapter Nine
‘Whoa! Testosterone in large doses. Not a big surprise with the chick ovulating.’ Liza nodded discretely to three backpackers who had just brushed past them as they made their way along one of the narrow side streets off the Via Del Corso, heading toward Piazza Navona. The woman, who looked to be barely out of her teens, was sandwiched between the two guys who didn’t look much older, but they were both obviously vying for her attention.
‘You can smell testosterone?’ Paulo asked, finding his own desire to pull her close and protect her from the hustle and bustle of the crowd difficult to control.
‘The testosterone is obvious,’ she said. ‘I don’t have to smell it. I smell her heat, like something primal, like she’d like to have them both, then have them again. I smell their response to her heat, like sharp citrus and black pepper.’ They stopped on the street and watched the trio that had just brushed past them. One guy had his hand on the girl’s cut-off-clad bottom. The other one had his arm draped around her neck, fingers dangling dangerously close to a well-displayed braless breast, nipples heavily peaked beneath a pale yellow tank top. ‘I think she’ll have them both,’ Liza said, her eyes following the trio. ‘I think they’ll get drunk tonight, go back to wherever it is they’re staying, and have a really filthy threesome, and –’ she sniffed, then added ‘– I think we both like that thought just a little too much.’
He grunted. ‘You got that right. Come on, the place I’m taking you for lunch is just around the corner and maybe the smell of great Italian cooking will take your mind off how we smell.’ He held her gaze. ‘I’m very hungry.’ Both of their scents spiked, and he could smell the blending even on the busy, sweaty street. For a moment they walked along in silence, then he said, ‘You can really smell all that, just in a passing moment on a busy street?’
‘I can. Of course their smell got my attention, first of all because it’s sex and jealousy and lust, and second of all because they bumped into us. What did you smell?’
‘You,’ he replied as he guided her into a small café and on through to a vine-shaded garden behind. ‘It was hard for me to notice anything else but you.’
She offered him a wicked smile. ‘Testosterone has tunnel-vision, or tunnel-smell, in this case,’ she replied.
They were late to lunch. There was no one else in the secluded garden but the two of them and, he had to admit, that was exactly why he’d brought her there. In the cool shade of heavily hung grapevines and the scent of the herb garden along the wall he could smell the soft dew of her perspiration, the subtle scent of the soap the maid always furnished the flat with, and her lust. He smelled her lust. Now that it had been brought to his attention, he would always be aware of it and never be able to miss the seashore and honey-butter scent. Now there was a subtle undertone that was like freshly brewed tea. That wasn’t lust, but something else, something that kept her focused on more than just his lust for her, which he had no doubt she smelled. God, how the hell was he ever going to be able to stay away from her?
The waiter was just taking their order when Coraline Martelli marched through the door to the garden, sat down at their table, and ordered the carbonara from the surprised waiter. That done, she helped herself to a glass of wine from the carafe almost before she said, ‘how are you.’
When the waiter finally left, Paulo spoke between gritted teeth. ‘Coraline, we weren’t expecting you.’ No doubt Liza could smell the irritation rolling off him.
‘Oh, I know, I know, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. I had to talk to Liza, and I figured I’d find you two here.’ She turned her attention to Liza. ‘It’s Paulo’s favourite place, and he likes to eat late –’ she patted Liza’s hand and gave her a knowing smile ‘– for the privacy.’ Christ, the woman could actually be subtle when she wanted to, but subtly didn’t seem to be on today’s menu.
As the waiter brought a first plate of Roman gnocchi, Coraline sipped daintily at her wine and studied Liza. ‘I Skyped with Rita this morning.’
Liza toyed with her gnocchi. ‘Oh? How is she?’
‘Fine! Rita’s fine. Unrepentant that she never introduced the two of us and that she never told me about your nose.’
Liza smiled down at her plate. ‘Rita’s always been pretty protective of me and my nose.’
‘Mmm. And it seems she felt she needed to protect you from her own mother.’
Probably wise of Rita, Paulo observed.
‘Why would I need protection from you?’
Oh God, he thought, that was not a question to ask.
‘Paulo, have you shown her your proposal?’ Coraline turned her attention to him. Just like her to answer a question with a question.
‘What proposal?’
Before Paulo could respond, Coraline was off and running. ‘I took the liberty of bringing a flash drive for you, darling …’ She dug in her bag, being her usual evasive self, ‘… because I figured by now Paulo would have had time for a proper apology for his indiscretions, and I’m anxious to move forward.’ She handed the drive to Liza with a broad smile. ‘Liza, dear, I want your nose.’
‘What?’ Liza nearly dropped the drive in her gnocchi.
‘I want your nose to help us develop our new line of fragrances.’ Before Liza could respond she raised her hand to silence both her and Paulo. ‘Oh I know you’re an excellent journalist and businesswoman or High Rising wouldn’t be doing so well. I’m perfectly happy to let you use your experience for your article, with a few exceptions that involve … shall we say … Martelli trade secrets. Your unique abilities –’ she nodded to Liza’s nose ‘– are an asset I’m willing to pay well for, and I think the opportunity I’m offering you at Martelli intrigues you very much, doesn’t it?’
Paulo could see the thud, thud of Liza’s pulse against the tender spot on her throat, but her face gave nothing away. They all sat quietly as the waiter brought their main courses and refilled everyone’s wine glass. Once he was done fussing, Liza leaned across the table, eyes wide, pupils dilated with interest. ‘What do I have to do?’
Coraline made a point of digging into her carbonara and oohing and aahing about the chef’s magic before she wiped her mouth daintily and spoke. ‘Read Paulo’s proposal.’ She nodded to the flash drive Liza still clenched in her hand. ‘It’s not complete, and you may have some suggestions. Then tonight, I’ll send a car for you at 7.00.’
Paulo felt his heart somersault. Surely Coraline wasn’t going to throw Liza in at the deep end, but the woman shot him a warning glance, followed by a quick smile that was the look he had seen on the faces of predators before they made a kill.
‘For what?’ Liza asked.
‘Are you involving The Mount?’ Paulo suddenly lost his appetite.
‘Of course, Paulo,’ Coraline batted her lashes at him. ‘Just exactly like you planned.’
‘Coraline,’ He scooted closer to the table. No use trying to hide what they were saying in Italian, sin
ce Liza spoke better Italian the even Jim did, and he supposed his half-whisper, half-ventriloquist act was a dead giveaway that he didn’t want to involve her in the conversation, but he did it anyway. ‘Coraline, don’t you think taking her to the villa is a bit premature?’
His boss barely glanced at him. ‘Not at all. Once she’s read your proposal the next step is to take her to The Mount’s villa. Better sooner than later and best if she goes with no expectations, then we know her response will be unbiased. Don’t you agree, Liza?’
‘That makes sense,’ Liza said. ‘It all sounds so intriguing.’
She had no idea, Paulo thought. And this a woman who had been abstinent until the night before last. Was she in for a surprise.
Chapter Ten
It was actually a limo that picked Liza up in front of Bernini Place. She did get the odd limo service from time to time in her line of work, but it still felt like an unexpected luxury when it happened. She figured she’d be taken to the Martelli offices or the research facilities, which were outside Rome and not far from Ostia Antica. She remembered that because Ostia Antica was one of the tourist sites at the top of her must-see list before she left Rome. Instead, she was taken out toward Tivoli. In one of her earlier trips to the Eternal City, she had visited the Villa d’Este, built on the hills at the edge of the town. The weather and been close and hot, and she had relished the cool gardens with the myriad Renaissance fountains. As she strolled down memory lane, the limo climbed the winding road toward the town. She watched out the window allowing her mind to wander over Paulo’s exciting proposal, over the fact that Ms Martelli had said whatever happened tonight was off the record and Paulo had clearly not been thrilled about her participation.
