The Ultimate Playboy

by Maya Blake

  Ruby’s breath caught, then rushed out in a gush of pain. ‘I don’t want them.’

  Her mother frowned. ‘What woman doesn’t want flowers on the most spectacular night of her life?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right? Last week you sent back that superb crate of white Alba truffles, the week before you refused the diamond tennis bracelet. I wish you’d tell me who all these gifts are from.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter who they’re from. I don’t want any of them.’ She fought the rising emotions back. She’d shed enough tears to last her a lifetime.

  Not tonight. With her mother as her new business partner, she’d paid off Giacomo’s loan and closed that chapter.

  Tonight, she would push Narciso and his in-your-face gifts out of her mind and bask in her accomplishment.

  ‘I’m ready.’

  They entered the large reception area to find a three-deep row of photographers and film crew awaiting them. In the time she’d decided to open the restaurant with her mother, Paloma had guided her in how to deal with the press. Where her reaction to them had been led by fear and resentment, now she used banter and firmness to achieve her aim.

  With the press conferences and TV junkets taken care off, her mother passed her the scissors and she moved to a large white ribbon.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, my mother, Paloma, and I are proud to declare Dolce Italia open—’

  At first she thought she was hallucinating. Then the face became clearer.

  Narciso stood to one side of the group, his silver eyes square on her face.

  ‘Ruby?’ she heard her mother’s concerned voice from far away as the heavy scissors slipped from her grasp.

  ‘Ruby!’

  She turned and fled.

  * * *

  ‘Ruby.’ He breathed her name as if it were a life-giving force, pulling her from the murky depth of pain. ‘Open the door, per favore.’

  She snatched the door she’d slammed shut moments ago wide open. ‘You ruined my opening. Weeks of preparation, of breaking my back to make this perfect, and you swooped in with your stupid face and your stupid body and ruined it.’ She found herself inspecting his face and body and tore her gaze away.

  ‘Mi dispiace. I wanted...I needed to see you.’

  ‘Why? What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven’t already said?’

  His jaw tightened. ‘A lot. You returned all my gifts.’

  ‘I didn’t want them.’

  He took a step into the room. ‘And the NMC cheque? You returned it to me ripped into a hundred pieces.’

  ‘I was making a point. Why did you keep sending me stuff?’

  ‘Because I refused to contemplate giving up. I refused to imagine what my life would be like without the thinnest thread of hope keeping me going.’

  She wanted to keep her gaze averted, but, like a magnet, it swung towards him.

  He looked incredible, the five-o’clock shadow gracing his jaw making him look even more stunning. But a closer look pinpointed a few surprising changes.

  ‘You’ve lost weight,’ she murmured.

  He shut the door behind him and she caught the faint snick of the lock. ‘So have you. At least I have an excuse.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Sì, Michel threatened to quit. We agreed on a month-long vacation.’

  ‘You don’t deserve him.’

  He grimaced. ‘That’s entirely true. He wasn’t happy when he realised his culinary efforts were going to waste.’ He threaded his fingers together and stared down at them. When he looked back up, his eyes were bleak, infinitely miserable. Her heart kicked hard. ‘I can’t eat, Ruby. I’ve barely slept since you left.’

  ‘And this is my fault? I didn’t leave. You threw me out, remember?’

  He paled and nodded, his nostrils thinning as he sucked in a long, ragged breath. ‘I was wrong. So very wrong to believe even for a second that you were anything like Maria.’

  ‘And you’ve suddenly arrived at this conclusion?’

  ‘No. All the signs were there. I just refused to see them because I’d programmed myself to believe the worst.’

  Her heart kicked again, this time with the smallest surge of hope. ‘What signs?’

  ‘Your determination to push me away when I came to your apartment. Your tears in the car on the way back home. Your clear distress when my father touched you. Why would you encourage me to reconcile with my father and turn round and betray me?’

  ‘I wouldn’t... I didn’t.’

  He shook his head. ‘I know. I condemned you for something that never happened. Something you tried to tell me you would never do. But I was so bitter and twisted I couldn’t see what was in front of me.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘The love I have for you and the probability that you could perhaps love me, too.’

  Her breath caught. ‘W-what?’

  ‘I know I’ve blown all that now—’

  ‘You mean you don’t love me?’

  He speared a hand through his hair and jumped up. ‘Of course I love you. That’s not the point here, I meant—’

  ‘I think you’ll find that’s the whole point, Narciso,’ she murmured, her heart racing.

  He stopped. Stared down at her. Slowly his eyes widened. Ruby knew what he was seeing in her face. The love she’d tried for so long and so hard to smother was finally bursting out of her.

  ‘Dio mio,’ he breathed.

  ‘You can say that again.’

  ‘Dio mio,’ he repeated as he sank onto his knees in front of her. ‘Please tell me I’m not dreaming?’

  ‘I love you, Narciso. Despite you being a horrible pain in the ass. There, does that help?’

  With a groan, he rose, took her face in his hands and kissed her long and deep. ‘I’ll dedicate every single moment of the rest of my life to making you forget that incident.’

  ‘That sounds like a great deal.’

  ‘Can I also convince you to let me back Dolce Italia in any way I can?’

  Despite the guilt she saw in his face, she shook her head. ‘No. It’s now a mother-daughter venture. I want to keep it that way.’

  ‘What about your father?’ he asked.

  ‘He consults...from afar. We’ll never be close but he’s my blood. I can’t completely cut him off.’

  ‘Prezioso, you humble me with how giving you are.’

  ‘You should’ve remembered that before you pushed me away.’

  ‘I’ve relived the hell of it every single second since I lost you.’

  ‘Keep telling me that and I may allow you to earn some brownie points.’

  He smiled. ‘Can we discuss accumulative points?’

  ‘I may be open to suggestions.’

  He kissed her until her heart threatened to give out.

  ‘Wow, okay. That could work.’

  ‘How about this, too?’

  He reached behind him and presented her with a large leather, velvet-trimmed box. It was far too large to contain a ring but her heart still thundered as she opened it.

  The mask was breathtaking. Bronze-trimmed around blue velvet, it was the exact colour of the waters of Belize. Peacock feathers sprouted from the top in a splash of Technicolor, and two lace ties were folded and held down by diamond pins.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It’s yours if you choose to accompany me on the next Q Virtus event.’

  ‘I want to know more about your super-secret club.’

  A sly smile curved his lips. ‘I could tell you all the secrets, but then I’d have to make love to you for days to make you forget.’

  ‘Hmm, I suppose I’d just have to suffer through it.’


  He laughed, pulled her close and kissed her again. She pulled away before things got heavy.

  ‘Tell me what you’ve done to my mother.’

  ‘She promised to hold the fort on condition I did everything in my power to exit this room as her future son-in-law.’

  Ruby gasped. ‘She didn’t! God, first you muscle in on my opening, then you strike deals behind my back.’

  ‘What can I say? She drives a hard bargain.’ He pulled back and stared down at her, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. ‘So will you give me an answer?’

  Her arms rose to curl over his shoulders. ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On whether white Alba truffles come with the deal.’

  He pulled her close and squeezed her tight. ‘I’ll keep you supplied every day for the rest of your life if that’s what it takes, amante.’

  Isla de Margarita, Venezuela

  Narciso leaned against the side of the cabana and watched his wife wow the crowd with her latest range of cocktails. Although her mask covered most of her face, he could tell she was smiling.

  Music pumped from the speakers strategically placed around the pool area and all around him Q Virtus members let their inhibitions fly musically and otherwise.

  He raised his specially prepared cocktail to his lips and paused as the lights caught his new wedding ring.

  He’d wanted a big wedding for Ruby but she’d insisted on a small, intimate ceremony at the Sicilian villa where he’d been born.

  In the end, they’d settled for fifty guests including her mother, and Nicandro Carvalho and Ryzard Vrbancic, the two men he considered his closest friends.

  Although they were working on their relationship, he and Giacomo had a way to go before all the heartache could be set aside.

  ‘So...last three bachelors standing becomes two. How the hell are Nicandro and I going to handle all these women by ourselves, huh, my friend?’

  Laughing, he turned to Ryzard. ‘That’s your problem. I’m willingly and utterly taken.’ He glanced over and saw Ruby’s eyes on him. He raised his glass and winked.

  Ryzard shuddered. ‘That’s almost sickening to watch.’

  ‘If you’re going to throw up, do it somewhere else.’

  Shaking his head, his friend started to walk away, then Narciso saw him freeze. The woman who had caught his attention was dancing by herself in a corner. Although she had a full mask over her face, her other attributes clearly had an effect on Ryzard.

  Smiling, Narciso turned to watch his wife emerge from behind the bar and walk towards him, her stunning body swaying beneath her sarong in a way that made his throat dry.

  She reached him and handed him another drink. ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘Just me bragging shamelessly on how lucky I am to have found you.’

  She laughed. ‘Yeah, about that. You might need to pull back on the gushing a bit. You’re putting our friends off.’

  He caught her around her waist, tugged her mask aside and kissed her thoroughly. ‘I have no intention of pulling back. Anyone who dares to approach me will be told how wonderful and gorgeous my wife is.’

  His pulse soared when her fingers caressed his collarbone. ‘I love you, Narciso.’

  ‘And I love that I’ve made you happy enough to keep you from sleepwalking lately.’

  ‘That reminder just lost you one brownie point.’

  He pulled her closer. ‘Tell me how to win it back, per favore,’ he whispered fervently against her lips.

  ‘Dance with me. And never stop telling me how much you love me.’

  ‘For as long as I live, you’ll know it, amante. That is my promise to you.’

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from SOCIALITE’S GAMBLE by Michelle Conder.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Presents title.

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  Ten years ago one devastating night changed everything for Austin, Hunter and Alex. Now they must each play their part in the revenge against the one man who ruined it all.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  BY RIGHTS CARA should have felt like she was on top of the world.

  And she had been yesterday when her agent had informed her that she had won the lucrative Demarche cosmetic contract that would take her modelling career in a more serious direction.

  On some level Cara still couldn’t believe her agent had pulled it off and she probably wouldn’t relax until the big announcement was made at a glitzy event in London the following Sunday evening. Eight days from now.

  It was going to be such a big deal that despite all her experience in the public eye, Cara knew that she would be nervous on the night. Especially when things had a tendency to go wrong for her at peak moments in her life and she had no idea why.

  Not that she would let anything get in the way this time. Her agent had worked really hard to paint Cara in the best light possible. To explain that she had changed, that she was no longer the Chatsfield wild child and all-round party girl but a young woman who was revered by others around the world.

  Cara secretly thought that had been pushing it a bit but Harriet Harland genuinely believed in her and Cara would not let her down. Especially after so many people had tried to distance themselves from her after that hideous rock video she had mistakenly agreed to appear in last year. Before the censorship board had pulled it, it had come with an R rating, but naturally, it had gone viral before then.

  Cara had thought that she would never get a decent job again after that. Certainly that’s what her father had implied.

  Which brought her right back to why she couldn’t yet bask in the glow of her big win.

  She was late.

  Seriously late.

  Not entirely her fault because, really, who could have predicted that she’d get stuck on the tarmac at LAX for five hours due to an unexpected electrical storm that had hung over the city like a bad smell.

  And by the look of the teeming rain outside she supposed she was lucky the plane had even landed in Vegas and not been rerouted to, say…Uzbekistan!

  That would be more in keeping with the day she was having.

  Probably she shouldn’t have even detoured from London to LA but when she’d been told that she had to go to Vegas, she’d wanted to stop off and take her agent to lunch. Somehow lunch had turned into a private
celebratory party and…well, she wouldn’t waste time regretting it. No one other than her siblings had ever shown her any support in her life and Harriet had said it was important.

  ‘More important than tonight,’ she grumbled, wanting to kiss the aisle as the line of passengers started to shuffle towards the exit doors.

  Poker was hardly noteworthy even if the game she was supposed to hostess later that night at one of her father’s flagship hotels had the largest buy-in of any casino in the western world. It was only a game.

  Glancing at the time on her phone she shoved it back into her shoulder bag and strode down the aerobridge.

  One hour.

  One hour that apparently included a thirty-minute taxi ride from McCarran International to the glittering diamond on the Las Vegas strip—the Chatsfield International.

  It had once had the reputation as the best casino in Las Vegas. Her father’s recent appointment of the new CEO—the gorgeous but arrogant Christos Giatrakos—was an attempt to re-establish that. In fact, Christos had been given the task of revamping all the Chatsfield Hotels and thereby restore the family name to its former glory.

  Former before her mother had walked out on them all years ago and her father had found the bottle and his next mistress. Now he’d met yet another woman and―surprise, surprise―he had found a new lease on life.

  Christos, who took his job far too seriously in Cara’s mind, had deemed that all her siblings had to be involved. Something all of them had resented as much as she did!

  Rightly, or wrongly, the family business interested her about as much as moving into a nuclear-waste facility.

  And she wasn’t above admitting, at least to herself, that it had hurt when Christos had emailed to ‘inform’ her that he was sending her to Vegas to hostess some important high-rollers’ poker game—supposedly the hottest ticket on the Chatsfield’s gambling calendar—because deep down she knew that he was just trying to get her out of the way so that her siblings could get on with the more serious tasks.