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“I’m not helping? What about you? Have you no responsibility at all, to anything other than your business, and your name, and protecting your brand? You say my sister was selfish—well, you are every bit as calculating and self-serving. It’s a shame you didn’t meet her. You and Juliet would have been a perfect match!”
“You are not that innocent, Rachel. You have played a significant part in this drama.”
“Did I? How fascinating.”
“I’d use the word despicable, rather than fascinating, and it makes me wonder how many other men did you introduce her to? How many of your clients did she date?”
“That has no bearing on Juliet and Antonio’s relationship.”
“I think it does. You were her matchmaker, weren’t you? You’d introduce her to your wealthy clients, helping her to land a rich husband.”
“I never played matchmaker. Not once. Antonio and Juliet met because your brother and I were out discussing the plane delivery schedule over a drink and she walked in, and so yes, I introduced them, but it wasn’t planned.”
“So she never dated any other of your clients? And think carefully about your answer, as your credibility is on the line. You weren’t the only one to hire a private investigator. I know all about her dating history.”
Rachel drew a rough breath, shaken. “What do you mean?”
“She’d been on the hunt for a rich man for years, and she used you fairly frequently for introductions—”
“It may have happened once or twice, but it was by chance. I never set out to introduce her to any of my customers. It was always by accident.”
“You expect me to believe that?” He crossed the room, closing the distance in long livid strides. “Come on. Be serious. Tell me how it really worked. Did you get a percentage? Were you ever offered a piece of the action?”
She backed up into a bookshelf, and then could go no farther. “How can you say such a thing? What is wrong with you?”
“It struck me just now that you are part of the game. I suspected it—”
“You’re wrong. I’m not playing a game. There is no game. There is just a baby boy that needs our help.” She drew a short sharp breath, face hot, her heart hammering so hard she felt like throwing up. He was awful. Beyond awful. “Good night,” she choked, putting down her glass and racing from the room to climb the white Carrera marble stairs as quickly as she could.
She heard Gio’s oath as he followed.
She ran faster, but his legs were longer and he reached her just before she reached the next floor, his hand circling her wrist, stopping her progress. She teetered on her heels.
He put his hand on her waist, turning her around. “Where are you going? What are you doing?” he growled.
She was out of breath and close to tears. “I’m not going to stand there and listen to you make ugly accusations. You have a twisted view of the world, and I refuse to be dragged into—”
His head dropped, his mouth covering hers, silencing the words. She stiffened, but he pulled her closer. Her lips parted to protest and she tasted the warm sweet wine on his breath and could smell his fragrance and the mixture was delicious. He smelled delicious.
Funny how she disliked Giovanni so much and yet she loved his kisses...
He made her feel beautiful and desirable, and in his arms, with his mouth on hers, his body pressed against her, she felt wonderfully alive. Almost too alive. Fire streaked through her veins, making her hum.
She’d always felt this way on the inside, deep down, but no one had ever brought it out in her, or seen her as anything but practical and pragmatic. And cold.
But she wasn’t cold. Her feelings were strong and they went so deep. She’d spent her life trying to hide the intensity of those emotions, but Giovanni had somehow discovered them and he knew just how to use them against her.
She didn’t know if he felt her shudder, but he drew her even closer, his lips parting hers, his tongue caressing the softness of her lower lip, and then stroking deeper, sweeping her mouth, electrifying her nerve endings, making them dance.
Was it terrible that she liked the way he touched her? That she welcomed his arm around her waist and his hand sliding low on her hip?
She welcomed the crush of his chest and the sinewy strength of his legs. He was hard and commanding, and nothing had ever felt so exciting, or quite so right.
No kiss had ever felt so good. She felt good. Brilliant, and beautiful, and fiercely alive, tingling everywhere. It wasn’t real; it couldn’t be real. Men loved Juliet, not her. Juliet fascinated men with her physical perfection. And Rachel was so far from perfect...
The thought stopped her, ending the magic, reminding her of who she was, and who he was, and why he was here.
/> She pulled back, breathing heavily, body still exquisitely sensitive, to look up at Gio. “We shouldn’t do this.” She struggled to speak, her voice low and hoarse. “It won’t help.”
