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Chapter Two
As always, Benny haddone a magnificent job preparing the house for guests. Every surface gleamed, and even the light fixtures lacked so much as a speck of dust. Trays of hors d’oeuvres traveled among the guests, carried by the silent, efficient catering staff.
Across the crowded room, Amara Vitali held court. It was the only term he could think of for the way their associates gathered around her, clinging to her every word. Not that he could blame them. She’d grown from a gangly, slightly awkward child into a gorgeous, polished woman with legs a mile long. A few years back, she’d cut her dark hair to a sharp, angled wedge that drew attention to her high cheekbones and her ice blue eyes. The look suited her, though he missed the softness she’d had about her when she was younger. She’d lost a little bit of that softness when her parents had died, but it had been completely stripped from her shortly before she’d come of age. Something, or someone, had turned the sweet, happy child into the ice princess before him.
“Ah, Emilio. I was hoping I’d have a chance to speak with you tonight.”
Biting back a sigh at the sound of the sniveling, weasel-y voice, Emilio turned and offered Carlos a polite smile. “Carlos. No business tonight, remember?”
It was the one rule he enforced without fail at these events. It was rare for members of the families to come together without an agenda, and like his father before him, Emilio felt it was important for all of them to connect just as people on a regular basis. And so, for one night a month, there was no talk of business and all rivalries were set aside.
Carlos smiled, the slick, greasy smile of a man used to getting his own way. “This will only take but a moment. You have shipment coming in on Wednesday.”
“I do. If you’d like to discuss it, I will be here most of the morning tomorrow. Please make an appointment with Benito.” Without giving the other man a chance to argue, Emilio turned and worked his way through the small crowd, greeting each individual by name, asking after wives and children.
Years of working in the type of business where letting your guard down for a second could cost you your life had honed his instincts for danger. As he worked the room, he could feel eyes on him, someone watching his every move. While chatting with his cousin Luca’s delightful and very pregnant wife, Teresa, he let his gaze surreptitiously roam the room. He’d expected it to be Carlos watching him, waiting for an opportunity to pounce again.
When he discovered instead Amara Vitali glancing his way for the third time in as many minutes, it was something of a shock. Ever since her twenty-first birthday, she’d kept a polite but careful distance between them. He’d embarrassed her, which he felt some remorse for, but she’d been little more than a child and he hadn’t been in the market for a wife. And if he’d taken her to bed as she’d so brazenly suggested that night, they’d be married with two kids at this point. Since he’d been certain that wasn’t what either of them wanted, he’d sent her on her way.
But perhaps he should reevaluate the situation. The idea of another man marrying the gorgeous Vitali family princess had never set well with him, even after he’d turned down her drunken advances that night. And a union between their two families would be beneficial to both sides. He’d assumed he’d ruined any chance with her, but maybe not, if the way she was watching him was any indication.
Unfortunately, his duties as host kept him busy the rest of the night, and he was unable to carve out any real time for them to be alone together. There was a moment, just before dinner, when she excused herself to use the bathroom and she had to pass him to leave the parlor.
Reaching out as she brushed by, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She stopped, spine straight and regal, but he could have sworn he felt her tremble.
Interesting.
“Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?” he asked, dropping his voice low enough for only her to hear.
“Always. You know you throw the best parties,” she replied with a cool smile that made him wonder if the tremble he’d felt a moment before had, indeed, been a product of an overactive imagination on his part.
“Thank you. I’m sorry Gio couldn’t join us.”
Something flashed in her eyes. It was gone as quickly as it came, too quickly for him to properly identify the emotion, but it had looked suspiciously like regret. “Me, too. He doesn’t get sick often, but when he does, he’s down for the count.” Her smile wasn’t as cool this time, but distinctly more forced.
Little Miss Vitali was up to something, but fuck him if he had the first clue what it could be. “Give him my best when you get home, would you?”
“Of course. If you’ll excuse me?”
He released her, watching her as she moved through the crowd. Before she’d disappeared through the entryway, he’d made up his mind. One way or another, he was going to get to the bottom of her strange behavior.
* * *
By the time the lastof the guests had left, Emilio was ready for a large tumbler of whiskey and his bed. After ensuring Benny would provide him with the former, he made his way up the stairs in search of the latter. Tugging off the tie Benny had expertly tied for him earlier in the evening, he pushed open the door to the master suite.
And froze in the doorway at the sight that greeted him.
Amara Vitali was stretched out on his bed, the navy blue of the duvet cover a stark contrast to the cream silk of her dress. “Hello, Mr. Rinaldi.”
