Signed Over to Santino
Page 18
‘I hope you’re successful,’ she murmured.
All of a sudden, he’d had enough. Enough of dancing around their issues. Enough of the distance yawning between them. ‘Come with me,’ he suggested.
She gave a soft gasp that reached into him and settled around his heart. ‘I can’t. I would be sabotaging your project if I left now.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘I do, and so should you.’
‘Are you berating me?’ he growled.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ she flung back.
‘Are you at the ice rink?’
‘Sì...yes.’ The trepidation in her voice grew. ‘I’m laced up and ready to go.’
‘Querida?’
Her voice caught. ‘Yes?’
‘You’re perfect. You’ll be fine.’
A tiny broken sound escaped her. ‘Grazie. I... I needed that.’ Voices murmured in the background. ‘I have to go, Javier.’
The knot returned to his shoulder. Larger. Tighter. A similar one settled on his chest. ‘I’ll call you tonight.’ He paused. ‘Tell me you’ll miss me,’ he ordered softly.
A tiny sigh echoed in his ear, followed by taut silence. ‘Sì, I will miss you.’
The click of the line came far too soon. He wanted to call her back immediately. Wanted to hear her voice again.
Javier realised in the moment before he jumped to his feet and scooped up his laptop that he wanted a whole raft of things when it came to Carla Nardozzi. Things he had no right to demand but was going to anyway. As soon as he put his mother’s ethereal and corporeal remains to rest.
Halfway across the Atlantic, he finally clicked on the link.
Her short, gold-spangled dress hugged her hips then flared out mid-thigh. Her hair flowed freely, just the way he liked it. Among the extras hired for the shoot, she shone bright and vibrant. She swayed to salsa music, arms outstretched to embrace life or a lover lucky enough to be allowed into her orbit.
Then, staring straight into the camera, she spoke the words. ‘La Pasión. Taste the Edge. Live the Edge.’
He shut down the video, and the laptop, and swallowed hard as every ragged, unravelled sensation he’d felt around her finally made intense, mind-bending sense.
For three long years, she’d ruled his thoughts, peppered his every fleeting relationship. Not just because she had struck to the heart of his masculine pride. Sí, there had been that. He couldn’t deny it. But more than that, Carla had struck something deeper, more substantial. Only he’d failed to see it till now.
His hand jerked towards the phone. But he pulled back. What he needed to say to her couldn’t be done over the phone. He had to be there, in front of her, staring into her eyes.
He exhaled. A few days. A week, tops. Then this insanity would end.
* * *
Ten days later, Javier landed on the lawn of his Miami home and sprinted towards the house. The self-imposed radio silence from the moment he’d arrived in Menor Compostela had been hell itself, but he’d needed it to deal with the chaos he’d suddenly found himself embroiled in.
Vaulting up the shallow steps where the garden ended and the terrace began, he threw open the double doors and startled an advancing Constanza.
‘Where is she?’ he demanded as he crossed the room. His calls en route to the airport in Spain hadn’t been answered. Neither had the ones he’d made on his plane heading home.
‘Señor?’
‘Carla. Is she upstairs?’ he threw over his shoulder as he trotted into the hallway. He slowed as his housekeeper shook her head.
‘Lo siento, señor, but the señorita, she’s gone.’
His foot froze on the bottom step. ‘What do you mean, gone?’ Ice rolled down his spine even as he said the words. Because hadn’t a part of him known? Hadn’t a part of him suspected this would happen?
Futile anger congealed in his stomach as Constanza’s gaze turned to pity. ‘She left four days ago, señor.’
His breath punched through his throat. ‘She’s been gone for over half a week and—?’ And what? He’d given no explanation to his staff as to her presence in his life. As far as his employees were concerned, she was just the woman who’d been working for him by day and warming his bed at night. They’d afforded her respect because she’d been with him, but beyond that Carla might as well have been a treasured painting hung on a wall and admired but nothing else.
He slashed his fingers through his hair, his feet pounding the hallway as he paced back and forth. Belatedly, he realised his housekeeper was trying to get his attention.
‘Yes?’
She reached into her pocket, warily extracted the folded envelope and held it out. Puzzled, Javier glanced at it. ‘What’s that?’
‘Señorita Carla, she left it for you.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘I NOW PRONOUNCE you husband and wife.’
Why did I come?
Why did he?
Her letter had been clear. More than clear. And his silence in the weeks after had all but shouted his acceptance of her need for no contact. So why was Javier sitting behind her in the church pew, his eyes glued to her back? She knew she wasn’t deluding herself about the potency of his stare. He’d arrived ten minutes after the ceremony had started. She knew because the murmurs his presence had drawn had made her look behind her.
One look.
One ferocious, intensely rigid stare back from him, and she’d hastily straightened.
He hadn’t joined in the hymns. Or snapped a photo of the stunning bride and groom sharing their first kiss. He’d remained, statue-still behind her, his attention riveted one hundred per cent on her.
The foolish wish that she’d worn her hair down was quickly squashed beneath more desperate anguish. The realisation on the night of his birthday party that she loved him had come as no real surprise to her. Nor had the inevitable acceptance that her love was doomed to bring her nothing but pain. She’d lost her head over him in record time. Or had that love been lying dormant for three years, her heart already his to possess the moment he’d possessed her?
Carla had spent far too many hours debating the whys and wherefores. Each had brought her to the same conclusion. There had never been one single hope of a future with Javier. Her tie to him should’ve begun and ended on paper.
Except it hadn’t...
It had begun with her body and ended up in her soul—
‘Are you going to sit there all day, pretending I don’t exist?’ his hard voice snarled in her ear.
Carla started. A quick glance showed the last of the wedding guests straggling out of the small island chapel where Draco and Rebel had married in his native Greece. Outside the sun blazed in its oblivious glory. Inside, she shivered, her heart leaping into her throat as she finally allowed herself to look at Javier.
His neatly trimmed five o’clock shadow accentuated his hollower cheekbones, his bespoke suit draped upon his lean body with an inherent grace and elegance reserved for demigods.
Standing, she faced him properly. ‘Javier—’
‘No. We’re not doing this here. Two people have been lucky enough to find what they want in each other. I won’t ruin their day.’
‘Then why did you come?’
Dark brows clouded. ‘Perdón?’
‘Despite my asking, no, pleading, with you to give me space, here you are. You could’ve stayed on the opposite side of the chapel. There are over five hundred guests here. We needn’t have seen each other. And yet here you are.’
His nostrils flared, as if he couldn’t believe the words spilling from her lips. ‘Because you owe me an explanation. And because you chose to vanish off the face of the earth for the past three weeks. That is why!’
Her heart slammed into her
stomach. ‘My letter wasn’t enough?’
His hand slashed the air. ‘Your letter was—’ He stopped, then shook his head. ‘I won’t be drawn into this here with you, Carla. We will go outside and wish the happy couple well. We will stay for a glass or two of champagne. I might even bring myself to dance with you. But you and I will leave this island together. Tonight. And we will settle this once and for all.’
He whirled from her, his designer shoes clicking in perfect staccato as he headed outside.
Following him, Carla saw heads turn as he joined the wedding party. Handshakes and kisses were exchanged with the bride and groom. Then he was turning towards her once more. Icy eyes locked on hers as he held out his hand to her. But within the depths, Carla caught an edgy vulnerability, a faint light that attempted to jump-start her hopes. Carla berated herself for reading signs where there were none.
His jaw turned to granite at her hesitation.
‘For heaven’s sake, Carla. If you don’t grab onto that and hold on with everything you’ve got, I damn well will.’
The exasperated whisper came from beside her. She looked down to see Maria glaring at her. ‘Go, dammit.’
She went. Not because she truly believed there was something to grab onto. But because before her heart shrivelled up and deserted her for the final time, she wanted to touch Javier. Selfishly feel his vibrant skin against hers one last time.
His fingers closed over hers and her blood kicked back into her veins.
This is an illusion. This is temporary.
Everything about this is temporary.
But she took her seat next to him at the great wedding feast. Clinked glasses with him for the wedding toast. Smashed plates and applauded Draco and Rebel’s first dance.
Javier didn’t offer to dance with her after all. Which was just as well. Her heart had dropped to her toes by the time Rebel left to change for her honeymoon trip.
‘Excuse me,’ she murmured, then fled before Javier could stop her.
She found Draco momentarily alone in one corner of the many terraces that graced his multi-storeyed island villa.
‘Draco.’
He turned, his smile blisteringly radiant, before he frowned. Catching her by the arm, he drew his thumb down her cheek. ‘Carla, are you all right?’
She blinked back tears that had been clogged in her throat for hours. ‘Please, don’t worry about me. Today belongs to you. I’ll find my own way to be okay. I promise.’
His frown deepened. ‘Carla...’
She stood on tiptoe and hastily placed a kiss on his cheek. ‘Give my love to Rebel.’
Turning, she found Javier standing six feet away. The bleakness that lanced his features tore at her. Again hope threatened to rise.
But she was tired. And battered.
She walked past him, through the ballroom overlooking sheer cliffs and a glorious sunset. She heard him behind her but didn’t stop until she reached the lift. He entered after her, staying on one side of the small car, his arms folded as he stared straight ahead.
It was only as she stood beneath the pillared courtyard awaiting the buggy that would take her to the chopper reserved to fly guests back to the mainland that he spoke.
‘Where have you been these past few weeks, Carla?’
She contemplated silence. Talking was dangerous. It fed an urge to reveal innermost desires that had no chance of birth, never mind growth. But this was a safe subject that had nothing to do with her breaking heart. ‘My mother bought a cottage near Maidstone, on the English coast where she grew up. She left it to me. I put it on the market when my father...when I thought I’d need the funds. Three weeks ago the agents contacted me with an offer. I came down with the intention to clear it out.’
‘But you decided a cottage in the middle of nowhere was the perfect hiding spot?’
‘I wasn’t hiding.’
The buggy arrived. He helped her into it, then took his place next to her. From shoulder to thigh, their bodies connected. Carla lost the power of speech. And Javier didn’t seem inclined to continue their conversation as they were driven towards the aircraft area.
When the buggy started to slow down beside the chopper, Javier tapped the valet on the shoulder. ‘Take us to the airstrip.’
‘But I’m going to the mainland to catch my flight back to England.’
His mouth flattened. ‘You can catch a flight with me. Or we can talk on my plane before you catch your flight. Either way, we’re talking.’
‘Javier, this is pointless.’
A look of actual pain crossed his face, making her want to take back her words. But short of the definitive words or the commitment from him whose twin was lodged in her heart, she knew nothing would ease her heartache. And being with him, like this, was turning out to be far worse than she’d imagined.
The buggy arrived at the steps of his plane. He got out and waited, his eyes hard and unmoving on hers.
To prolong this would be to prolong her pain. She alighted and climbed the steps into the plane.
Save a single attendant, there was no sign of Javier’s crew. Which was good because she didn’t want witnesses to her heartache.
The plane took off in record time. The moment the seat-belt sign flashed off, Javier surged to his feet.
He paced the space in front of her for terse minutes, before he leaned over her chair.
‘What must I do to prove to you that I can be worthy of you? How can I even do that if you won’t give me a chance?’
Carla’s mouth dropped open. ‘What are you talking about?’
Reaching into his jacket, he produced a familiar-looking sheet. ‘I’m talking about this,’ he snarled. ‘Your Dear John letter.’
‘You...kept it?’
Incredulity lightened his eyes. ‘That’s what interests you in all this? Whether or not I kept your letter?’
He slammed the sheet on the table next to her. ‘Explain it, por favor.’
She licked lips gone dry with trepidation. ‘Which part?’
‘All of it!’
Carla stared down at the words that had killed her to write, her limbs leaden as she reached for the single, most difficult thing she’d ever had to do.
Javier,
I returned to the ice today, and you were right. I love it. It’s in my blood. But I’m not in love with it. Not at the moment. Maybe it will return. Maybe it won’t. I need to give it time.
There’s an old saying about loving something and letting it go, right? But I allowed myself to love it again for the sake of your shoot. I hope you like the result. If you don’t... I’m sorry, but I’m done. Done faking. Done pretending I don’t want what I want.
I deserve better than that. We both do. I still intend to fulfil my endorsement obligations to you. But I think it would be best if I deal with your team going forward. You will most likely be angry with me, but I hope you grant me this clean break.
For all that has gone before, I’m sorry. But please, let me be.
Carla
The paper disappeared as he snatched it back up. A peculiar fire blazed in his eyes. ‘You’re done faking? Exactly which part did you fake with me? The days when you couldn’t stop smiling at each new experience we shared, or the nights you came apart in my arms?’ he finished, his voice a hoarse, bleak rasp.
Her breath shook out in searing recollection. She reached out, for what, she didn’t know, but he turned in a tight, horribly graceless pace.
‘You want what you want? How am I supposed to have a chance of offering myself up to help you achieve it when you disappear without trace?’
‘I didn’t think you’d want me to stay, knowing...’
He stopped. ‘Knowing what?’
She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. You said you’d b
e gone for a few days...that you’d call. You didn’t...’
‘So you took it as an excuse to bail? When will you stop running from me? From us?’ He stared down at her, a stiff entreaty in his eyes, before he shook his head. ‘Maybe I’m truly insane. I have to be, don’t I, to keep throwing myself at your feet when you don’t want me?’
She gasped. ‘Javier—’
‘You’re right. You deserve better. I just haven’t been selfless enough to see it.’ He balled the letter and thrust it into his pocket, before he gripped his own nape in a merciless hold. ‘I didn’t call you because my father was in the middle of having a stroke when I arrived.’
‘What?’
‘He survived, but he’s lost the power of speech and will most likely be wheelchair-bound for the rest of his life.’
‘I... I don’t know what to say.’
His mouth twisted. ‘I think you’ve said plenty. Anyway, under his power of attorney, his eldest son has assumed his responsibilities. I was able to negotiate with him. He signed the document allowing my mother to be buried with her family.’
She stood and moved towards him. ‘I’m so pleased this is over for you. That you both have closure.’
He inclined his head, but the mask of weariness and pain didn’t dissipate. When his gaze lifted, his eyes held pools of deep anguish. ‘What did I do that was so unforgivable, Carla? Was it forcing you to be my mistress? You didn’t sleep with me against your will, I know that.’
She reached out and touched him, unable to abide his pain. ‘No, it wasn’t that. It was never that. I left because I had to. I stayed gone because—’
‘What do you mean you had to?’
‘My father texted me on the night of your party. He was ready to tell me what happened to my mother.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve taken you—’
‘That’s just what he didn’t want. He wanted me to come alone. I was terrified it meant the worst. That he’d killed her in a rage because I’d asked her to intervene with him on my behalf.’
‘And did it?’
She shook her head, the relief of finally being able to put it behind her easing her heartache. ‘It was an accident. Caused because they were rowing, and she was trying to get away from him, but it was an accident. She stormed out of the house and didn’t watch were she was going. She slipped and hit her head going into the pool. My father had security cameras installed when he started buying expensive art. I...couldn’t bring myself to watch all of it, but I saw enough to know he was telling the truth...’