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‘When did all this happen?’ Javier was aware of the distinct bite to his voice but he didn’t soften his tone. Any hint of softness was seen as a sign of weakness. And he’d sworn an oath a very long time ago never to be seen as weak or gullible.
‘Yesterday.’
‘And this induced coma?’ he pressed.
‘It was only overnight until they were sure there wasn’t any brain damage. She’s awake and the doctors are optimistic she’s out of the woods.’
Javier exhaled. He released his death grip on his phone when the plastic creaked. ‘I should be wheels up in an hour but I’d appreciate frequent updates on her condition.’
‘You’re coming to Italy?’ Draco’s voice expressed surprise.
Javier snapped up his briefcase shut and headed for the door. ‘Considering how much I’ve invested in our mutual client, I believe a personal interest in her recovery is well within my rights. I’ll see you in seven hours.’
He hung up and walked past his PA’s desk.
‘Cancel all my appointments until further notice.’
She opened her mouth then immediately shut it.
In his limo minutes later, he tried to wrestle his fury under control.
So what if Carla Nardozzi had rejected him in a way only the father who’d barely acknowledged his existence had done? After years of biding his time, he’d finally found a way to get his own back. The Ice Princess would be taught a salutary lesson. All he needed was to ensure she got back on her feet in order for him to deliver the punishment she truly deserved.
His emotions had nothing to do with this.
This was a matter of business. And of his pride.
Nothing else.
* * *
Carla tried to lift her head off the pillow and was immediately engulfed in a fog of pain and confusion.
‘No, signorina, don’t try and move.’
She relaxed, and the pain receded a touch. But the confusion remained. She’d been sure she was dreaming. And yet the voices and images flitting through her mind had been so vivid, so real.
Her father’s voice had been unmistakeable. He’d been there the few times she’d woken up in the strange, sterile room.
But it was the other, deeper voice she’d heard the last time she’d woken that confused her and made her heart race. The change in the lighting suggested she’d fallen asleep some time after hearing him.
By all accounts that voice didn’t belong here...wherever this cold, grey here was.
The last time they’d met, he’d been icily indifferent, a ruthless businessman intent on one thing—getting her to sign along the dotted line.
Or at least, he had been...until he’d had her exactly where he wanted her. Until that kiss.
Like a blurred lens swinging into sharp focus, the memory of the kiss burned bright and insistent. Along with the recollection of the way he’d looked at her afterward.
Javier Santino had looked at her with pure hatred. And she didn’t blame him. After what she’d done three years ago, he had every right to detest her. It didn’t help that her will power withered away to nothing in his presence. But since that unfortunate day a month ago, she’d summoned enough strength to assure herself nothing would happen.
Javier hated her. She’d dealt his ego a great blow. And a ruthlessly powerful and charismatic man like that would never forget an insult to his pride.
Which bemused her as to why he’d kissed her in the first place.
Or had she kissed him...?
Memory blurred and confusion remounted. Carla lifted her hand to her head. Tracing her fingers gingerly over a particularly sore spot, she gasped as pain ricocheted through her. A dull throb in her other wrist brought her attention to the fact that it was in a cast.
