Signed Over to Santino

by Maya Blake

Carla resisted the urge to perform an uncharacteristic eye roll. ‘I’m not made of glass, Javier. I’ve suffered more falls in my career than most people will in a lifetime.’

  If anything her answer drew an even deeper frown from him. ‘Is that supposed to reassure me?’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that you needed my reassurance. Just my acquiescence to your every demand.’

  His eyes darkened. ‘You laid down the rules of our relationship, querida. Don’t complain now that I’m playing by your standards.’

  Carla was puzzling over that cryptic remark when he shut the door and left her in peace for the first time since waking up in hospital. She didn’t doubt that she’d invited some degree of the hell Javier seemed intent on visiting upon her. But overall his actions pointed to a deeper reaction to what she’d done to warrant his almost volatile anger. Had she really bruised his ego that much? How could she have, when he’d been associated with some of the most captivatingly beautiful women in the world, both before and after their unfortunate one-night stand?

  To complete her ablutions, she limped to the sink, washed up, and lifted her gaze to the mirror. With growing horror, she examined the bags under her eyes and the unkempt nest of her thick hair. She almost giggled hysterically at the thought of her father seeing her this way. For as long as she could remember, Olivio had demanded perfection in everything she did. She’d granted it. Because to do otherwise would’ve incurred his wrath. Besides, it’d been easier playing the perfect princess. It provided the flawless façade to hide behind. Seeking and attaining perfection meant she didn’t have to acknowledge the flawed individual behind the mask.

  Carla stared into the mirror, her heart thumping hard as she acknowledged that the shell had well and truly cracked. Her eyes looked bruised and haunted. But then what was new? Pain and betrayal were effective tools in eroding any chance of finding peace even while doing what one loved—

  ‘Carla?’

  The harsh rap of her name brought her up short. Quickly running her fingers through her hair, she took a deep breath. She would deal with her father and their acrimonious relationship once she got out of here.

  First she needed to deal with the man intent on making her pay dearly for her one monumental mistake.

  * * *

  The moment the doctor gave her the all-clear to leave later that afternoon, Javier swung into action.

  ‘Your father is having your things brought over. We’ll stay at my hotel tonight and fly out in the morning.’

  She smoothed her hand over the dark orange dress and matching shoes she’d found in her hospital closet. With the help of the nurse, she’d taken a quick shower and pulled her hair into its customary bun. The effort to make herself presentable had been worth it when she’d emerged from the hospital to find a crowd of fans cheering at her apparent recovery. As always, she’d been silently awed and a little intimidated at being the object of such intense scrutiny. Although she hadn’t been willing to admit it at the time, she’d been grateful for Javier’s solid presence beside her. Especially when she’d caught a glimpse of the latest newspaper headline.

  ‘Don’t I have to deal with the police, seeing as Tyson Blackwell is to be charged?’

  ‘We’ll deal with it this afternoon, if you’re feeling up to it. If not, we’ll handle it later. I’ve spoken to the authorities. They don’t really need your statement to charge him.’

  ‘They don’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘Angelis had a member of your father’s staff watching over you. Blackwell was filmed on video pushing you into making that dangerous jump.’ His jaw tightened, his features cast in shadow as the car moved through traffic. ‘Why did you do it?’

  Her breath emerged shakily as memory slashed across her mind. Her father had finally confessed, after condemning her for wanting to sever their professional relationship, that he’d gambled all her money away. Their only asset—albeit a heavily mortgaged one—was the estate in Tuscany.

  ‘I had a lot on my mind that morning. I wasn’t thinking clearly. And before you think me completely foolish, I’d done the jump successfully over a dozen times in the days before.’

  ‘Was your lack of concentration to do with Angelis? Or the chaos your father has made of your finances?’

  She gasped. ‘You know about that?’

  ‘Your father has been pursuing this deal for the better part of a year, each time asking for more money. You didn’t think I’d do my homework on why he was so eager to sign you away?’

  Her insides chilled. ‘So you know—’

  ‘I know everything, querida. And I have you in the proverbial palm of my hand. I can ruin you with the snap of my fingers.’

  That debilitating state of ennui that had assailed her on and off over the past few weeks wove over her again. The urge to give up, walk away from it all, now, rather than later as she’d tried to discuss with her father, was so strong it caught her breath.

  ‘Did you hear me, Carla?’

  ‘Loud and clear. You can ruin me. You can breathe fire. You can command the very heavens to crush me into a speck of dust. I acknowledge your almighty power over me. But please excuse me if I don’t genuflect. I’m battered and bruised enough as it is.’

  A dark look entered his eyes. ‘What’s wrong with you? And I don’t mean physically. Your apathy is unbecoming in an athlete of your calibre. You haven’t risen to number one by being cowed by a few challenges.’

  She laughed, the sound scratching her throat. ‘So you not only expect me to jump when you say how high, but I should have an attitude when I do it?’

  ‘I’m saying representing my company with such a defeatist demeanour will not work.’

  ‘I’ll work on practising my positive mental attitude before I step in front of the camera. Is that enough for you?’

  ‘This isn’t a joke, Carla.’

  ‘Trust me, I’m well aware of that.

  She felt his probing stare for several minutes. But thankfully, he didn’t press her further before they drew up to the five-star hotel in the heart of Rome.

  The hotel was renowned for its ultra-private accessibility to celebrities and she breathed a sigh of relief when they were ushered through a discreet entrance and into the private lift that serviced the penthouse.

  Carla walked into the sumptuously decorated room and halted when she saw her father. Beside him, several familiar-looking suitcases were stacked neatly on a caddy, which a butler was in the process of wheeling away.

  The ragged notion that she was once again being managed, herded where Olivio Nardozzi wanted her to be, tore through her.

  ‘I have a few phone calls to make,’ Javier announced once he’d acknowledged her father’s greeting. ‘I’ll leave you two to catch up. Carla, dinner will be served at eight. Make sure you rest before then.’

  Before she could respond, he strode off down the hallway. She told herself his abrupt absence didn’t affect her as much as the mild hollowing of her stomach indicated.

  She stiffened as her father placed the crystal tumbler he’d been drinking from on a nearby antique cabinet and crossed the room.

  ‘Mia figlia, it’s good to see you on your feet again. I wanted to be there when you were released, but I was assured that everything was in hand. How are you feeling?’

  She didn’t react as he leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. When he stepped back, she glimpsed the tight, haggard look on his face.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she replied, desperately squashing any heartache she felt over the state of their relationship. Her father had long driven home to her that he abhorred any show of emotion, especially that of weakness. In all things she was expected to be poised, controlled. Emotionless. It was the reason their ongoing rows writhed like a live wire between them.

  ‘I hope your time in hospital has brought you to your sens
es?’ he murmured in Italian.

  Anguish ripped through her. ‘If by my senses you mean I’ve given up my bid to lead an independent life, then I’m sorry to disappoint you but my wishes remain the same,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘I’m still taking a break from ice skating, and no, I haven’t made up my mind how long that break will be. When I decide, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Does Santino know about this ludicrous decision of yours? I don’t believe that he does, or your contract would be in serious jeopardy by now and we’d be on our way to court.’

  She bit her lip. Her contract with Javier’s company didn’t specifically state that she couldn’t make the decision she intended to take, but she doubted he would be pleased to learn she might lose her number-one-ranking status before she’d fulfilled the full terms of her sponsorship deal.

  ‘Contracts can be renegotiated. Nothing is set in stone yet. I’ll tell him when I’m ready. And I’d thank you to stay out of that decision.’

  Her father’s espresso-coloured eyes hardened. ‘You forget yourself, girl. You wouldn’t be where you are today without me.’

  ‘Without your punishing strive for perfection and the strict rules that ensured I had no life outside figure skating, you mean?’ she sniped, the ennui rushing away to be replaced by the haunting reality of what she’d let her life become. And she couldn’t even fully blame her father for that.

  ‘I moulded you and ensured your iconic place in the history books!’

  ‘Through fear and intimidation. At each turn you threatened to abandon me just like—’ She pulled herself up short, sucking in a deep breath.

  ‘Go on, say it. Just like your mamma left you?’

  Her hurt escalated until her whole body was engulfed in pain. ‘And we both know why she left, don’t we?’

  He slashed an angry hand through the air. ‘I refuse to indulge you in this childish need to revisit the past. Your mamma is gone, and you dishonour her memory with this petty squabble you insist upon.’

  ‘How dare you accuse me of dishonouring her memory? When you didn’t even tell me she was dead until the morning of her funeral?’

  Olivio’s frame tensed, his five-foot-nine stature rigid with banked fury. ‘You had a competition to win. I didn’t think the news would do anything but throw you off your game.’

  Her blood turned cold. ‘Every time I think there’s a shred of humanity in you, Papà, you prove me wrong.’

  His face tightened into a hard, implacable mask. ‘I don’t know what has got into you these past few weeks. Whatever it is, I suggest you take the time in New York to reassess your priorities. This deal with Santino will be the making of us, if you don’t mess it up. In the beginning, I was against him staggering the payments on the basis of your performance, but now I see it’s a good thing. It might not be enough to save us from the bank’s red letters, but if it helps keep you in line—’

  ‘You forget I’m no longer a child. Your threats of abandonment don’t frighten me any more!’

  ‘And I haven’t come this far for you to suddenly develop whimsical delusions. Only has-beens and losers scurry away with the excuse to find themselves. You’re number one and you’ll remain number one—’

  ‘Or you’ll what? Drive me to another convent like you did when I was ten years old and threaten to leave me there unless I behaved? I’m not ten any more.’

  ‘No, you’re not. But you signed a contract to keep me as your manager until you’re twenty-five, and I won’t be got rid of that easily. I’ll take you to court if I have to.’

  A vice squeezed in her chest. ‘You’d do that? To your own daughter?’

  ‘The daughter you were six weeks ago wouldn’t have made these ridiculous demands. I’m not sure what happened after the charity gala—’

  ‘Don’t plead innocence, Papà. I found out that you’d tried to bribe Draco’s fiancée into leaving him so you could marry me off to him! Do you know how it made me feel to hear that from Maria?’ she rasped.

  ‘I was only acting in your best interests. You were infatuated with him once. It seemed the sensible option to secure your future with his.’

  She curled her fingers into fists, and winced when her broken wrist protested. ‘This isn’t the Middle Ages! My future is mine and mine alone to secure as I please.’

  His lips pursed. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. If you think I’m going to stand by and—’

  ‘I think it’s time for you to leave your daughter to rest, Olivio,’ Javier intoned from the entrance to the hallway.

  Carla started. It was a testament to his predatory stealth that neither she nor her father had heard him return to the living room. Studying his face, she tried to gauge how much he’d overheard. A flick of his gaze to hers told her he’d heard and understood enough.

  And had once again acted as judge, jury and executioner.

  Fed up to the back teeth of being embroiled in manipulative parents and male egos, she glared at him. ‘Please stay out of this.’

  Javier ignored her, his laser gaze on her father. ‘I’ll let you be the judge of whether you think this is the right time to be airing your...questionable family laundry.’

  The statement was aimed at the heart of Olivio’s pride. And he responded predictably. ‘Sì, you’re right. This isn’t the time or place. I will join you in New York, cara, when you’re better recovered.’

  The pecks on her cheeks were cold and emotionless, and she wondered why he’d even bothered. Yes, of course. Appearances.

  She stood frozen as he shook hands with Javier, and left.

  Slowly, Javier sauntered to where she stood.

  ‘Do you intend to stand there all day?’ he mocked.

  ‘I intend to do my very best to avoid being in the same room with you as much as possible,’ she snapped.

  His nostrils flared. ‘Watch it, Principessa. There are only so many insults I’m prepared to take until something gives.’

  Carla forced herself to exhale calmly. ‘You feel the same way, Javier. Don’t pretend otherwise.’

  ‘Don’t presume to know what I’m feeling.’

  ‘Fine. Whatever. Please tell me where my suitcases have been taken. I’d like to get changed.’

  He regarded her for several tense seconds, then turned away. She followed him down the hallway till they reached two sets of double doors. Javier swung open the right set and walked into the room.

  As with every inch of the penthouse, the suite was decorated from top to bottom with classic luxury that drew the eye to the blend of contemporary and antique pieces around the room. The ceiling had retained its lofty rococo design and rich parted drapes offered early evening views of Rome and the Vatican in the far distance.

  But it was the bed that drew her eye. It was queen-sized and mounted on a double dais; the silk coverlet alone made her want to lie down and let its decadent luxury relax all her troubles away. Or was it something else entirely that drew her attention to that particular piece of furniture?

  Heat rushed through her as she remembered another time. Another bed. An uninhibited period in time that had haunted her ever since.

  ‘If you need anything, there’s an intercom next to the bed that summons the butler.’

  His tone was gravel rough enough to pry her attention from her dangerous memories. Her eyes met his, and, far from the cool regard of moments ago, his gaze contained a banked fire that stopped her breath.

  ‘Okay...thank you.’

  He jerked out a nod. Expecting him to leave, she waited. And felt a renewed surge of heat when his eyes conducted a slow, thorough appraisal of her. She wanted to tell him to stop, to truly leave her be. But the words stuck in her throat as the sinful attraction she couldn’t seem to suppress around him engulfed her once more.

  A rough sound ripped through the room. It could
’ve come from her.

  They moved at the same time—she sideways, striking for the bed. Javier lunged in her direction, then veered sharply towards the door.

  ‘Wait.’

  He froze. Turned.

  ‘I... I wish I didn’t have to ask, but...’

  He frowned. ‘Spit it out, Carla.’

  ‘My zipper.’ She held up her immobilised wrist. ‘I won’t be able to reach it with this. Could you help me, please?’

  He executed a smooth return to where she stood. ‘Are you sure you want my help? After all, it would involve me touching you. And I know how you feel about that,’ he jeered.

  She lifted her chin. ‘Fine. I’ll get your butler to help me.’

  Before the words were fully out, her waist was grasped in a firm hold. ‘Take one more step towards that door and I’ll make you regret it,’ he growled.

  With a mere foot separating them, his warm breath washed over her face as he exhaled.

  ‘Seriously, stop tossing out threats like confetti. It’s getting old.’

  One corner of his mouth quirked as he placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. ‘You’ve got a little spark back. My investment may not be in danger, after all. Turn around,’ he rasped.

  She held his gaze a second longer, suddenly unsure if this was such a good idea. Surely, staying in her clothes around him was better than what she was about to subject herself to? But changing her mind now was out of the question.

  Swallowing, she presented her back to him. The air thickened, wrapping them up in a sultry heat as the seconds ticked by. His breath tickled her exposed nape, her body responding to that ephemeral contact by firing up her nerve endings.

  His knuckles brushed her spine and Carla squeezed her eyes shut. The rasp of the zipper was amplified in the heavy silence, every inch of exposure making her heart race faster. The silk and lace teddy she wore beneath provided shockingly inadequate cover, her skin on fire from Javier’s gaze.

  An eternity later, his hands dropped. ‘It is done.’ His voice was rough, barely civil.

  He was gone before she’d exhaled the air trapped in her lungs. She stumbled to the bed and sank down, her chest rising and falling with an urgency that had nothing to do with her diminished health.