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‘You know I’m tempted to refuse to sell to you now, just on principle, don’t you?’
‘But you’ll give it the careful consideration it deserves and conclude that you’re far too sensible to do that, si?’ he queried mockingly.
‘Just for that, I’m inclined to string you along for the foreseeable future.’
His face hardened. ‘Tomorrow is never guaranteed. Remember that, Faye.’
Thrown into a pit of uncertainty at the sombre warning, she remained silent.
When they arrived on the terrace he nodded curtly, then turned away as several dozen guests approached him. A blessing in disguise that allowed her to blend into the background, she told herself.
Snagging a glass of tonic water, she made small talk with the guests who spoke English, and smiled through her halting Italian with those who didn’t. When Alberto spotted her and wove his way towards her, Faye sighed in relief.
He designated himself her guide, introducing her to everyone in their vicinity until her head spun from trying to recall names.
She was helping herself to a delicious bite of lemon chicken when Stefano and Francesco Castella approached. Thus far she’d had no personal interaction with Carlotta’s brothers, but she’d seen them around the office...noted their calculating glances.
They reached her, and she saw Maceo’s head jerk up from where he was engrossed in conversation across the terrace. Narrowed eyes flicked from her to the brothers, returning to hers for several moments before he looked away.
Despite their inconsequential small talk, Faye sensed the Castella brothers were assessing her, probing her for weakness. Beside her, Alberto stiffened at each seemingly casual phrase they uttered. And she sensed the many glances Maceo threw her way while the brothers lingered.
When they eventually left, she frowned at Alberto’s sigh of relief.
‘What was all that?’ Faye asked, slowly expelling a calming breath.
‘Nothing you should waste your time on,’ Alberto reassured her, although his faint frown indicated otherwise. ‘Those two are...drammatico.’
Faye bit her tongue against pressing for further elaboration. This was a party, after all. Although judging by the thunder on Maceo’s face when he glanced her way her once more, enjoyment wasn’t high on his list.
* * *
Not for a single moment in his life had Maceo been so racked with indecision.
Stay close or retreat.
Give in to her demands or pretend she didn’t exist.
Every course of action reaped the same outcome—the intensifying of that hunger that had taken root within him, awakening needs he’d suppressed because seeking pleasure of any kind was an insult to his parents’ memory.
But since that kiss he’d been bracingly reminded that he was a man. With a man’s needs. And Faye was very much a woman. A woman with a great many secrets that might very well prove detrimental to him. To the legacy his parents had died safeguarding.
But a woman, nevertheless.
Out of sight or in his presence, wearing one of her outrageous outfits with that arcobaleno hair, she haunted him.
He sucked in a slow, steadying breath. Which immediately betrayed him by arriving with her delicate scent. He attempted to concentrate on the conversation he was having, although he didn’t need much brain power to glean that it was skewed towards another sycophantic display.
Faye would never stray into sycophancy. She’s probably never even come across the word.
She neither cared about impressing him nor elevating herself in his eyes, the way every other guest here strained to. And, despite his less than subtle statements on Wednesday night, she hadn’t condemned him to the primitive, sexist junkyard where he probably belonged.
Whatever male you eventually belong to...
Santa cielo! There had been no other male in his thoughts bes
ides himself when he’d uttered those ridiculous words. And, Dio lo aiuti, he’d felt every one of them in his very bones. Had experienced a hot, powerful throb of primal possessiveness that had made him question his sanity.
The same sensation had assaulted him when she’d opened her door to him earlier, wearing a dress that had shredded his control. Only a desperate summoning of that framed list, that soul-shaking vow, had stopped him from succumbing to his savage hunger. He didn’t deserve relief of any kind. Especially not with Luigi’s stepdaughter. Although he was beginning to suspect Carlotta’s hand in this new and singular torment he was currently experiencing...
