But what was killing me at the moment was the fact he kept glancing back at me during this stupid fashion show. His watchful gaze made my stomach tight. It made my whole body tight. And it completely threw me, because all I wanted was for him to ignore me as he had when I’d first arrived so I could stop thinking about his ass for ten freakin’ minutes.
I was pissed at the man. Pissed at the way he’d talked to me at that party the other night, pissed at the things he’d said to me in the car after. Pissed that he’d completely disarmed and flustered me with that one stupid smile. But most of all I was pissed that I was already looking at him differently. Not as the number one suspect in my best friend’s murder, but as a man. A sexy as hell man. One I wanted even though I knew I shouldn’t.
I needed to stay focused. I needed to remember why I was here—to find out if he’d had anything at all to do with Laney’s murder. And the best time to do that was now. The rep for Bandini clearly knew Luc well. I had to find a way to talk to her alone so I could try to pump her for information about the man.
All three models appeared in the room, except this time instead of striding in, twirling in their latest outfits, and disappearing back out the doorway they’d come through, they each stopped near Luc and Bianca and joined in the conversation.
Relieved the private fashion show was over, I straightened my spine against the wall, but I didn’t move to join the group. I knew my place as the assistant and stayed where I was in the back of the room, exactly as I’d done the past two days, intent on avoiding a repeat of Luc’s little temper tantrum. Luc glanced back at me again, and every inch of my skin tingled in response, but I fixed a bored look on my face, careful not to meet his gaze. Seconds later, his focus returned to the women around him, and I watched as the skinny blonde to his right flipped her hair, giggled, and rubbed her breast against his arm in clear invitation.
A hard knot formed in my stomach. I’d seen him flirting with a variety of models at that first party. I’d seen him flirting with this one, in fact, just before David Bonello had distracted me from the disgusting scene. I knew it was irrational of me, but I disliked her on sight, and I told myself that had nothing to do with the way I was currently reacting to Luc and everything to do with the fact she had gold digger written all over her.
My stomach twisted as the blonde continued to flirt, and he nodded and smiled, encouraging her. The youngest of the three models, the brunette who looked like she was maybe twelve years old tops and who hadn’t said a word since the three had come out, smiled weakly, flashing a deep dimple in her cheek, then excused herself from the group and disappeared into another room, a hand at her head and a vacant look in her large brown eyes. Luc watched her go, and something in the way his gaze followed her caught my attention, causing me to shift uncomfortably against the wall.
As soon as the girl was gone, he leaned toward Bianca and spoke quietly in the older woman’s ear, ignoring the blonde still plastered to his side and desperate for his attention. Moments later, Bianca nodded, and Luc disengaged the blonde from his arm. His footsteps echoed across the travertine tiles as he heading for the same door the brunette had just exited through.
A whisper of unease shot through my belly. The blonde perched her hands on her thin hips and glared after him, clearly upset. The other model barely seemed to notice—she was too busy studying her nails—but Bianca placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, drawing the blonde’s attention her way, and firmly shook her head. Scowling, the blonde dropped her arms in a huff.
I wasn’t sure what I’d just seen. My gaze shot back to the now-empty doorway. Had that been worry in Luc’s stormy eyes? Concern? Or had it been interest?
Bile pushed up my throat. I hoped to hell that hadn’t been interest. The girl was a child. Skinny models were one thing. Children were completely different.
I watched the remaining two models disappear through a different door. Bianca glanced my way. Seconds later, she stood in front of me and smiled. “Did you enjoy the new line?”
She was tall—at least five inches taller than me—as thin as her models and just as beautiful with a sleek black bob, high cheekbones, and eyes the color of amethysts. I guessed she was probably about forty, but it was clear from the way she held herself that she’d been a model in her younger years. Next to her, I felt short and fat and not nearly as attractive as all the women I’d been faced with since arriving in Italy.
I brushed a curl away from my face, hoping to hide my stress over what Luc was doing in the other room alone with that girl.
Was that what he wanted? Young girls? Laney hadn’t been a young girl. In fact, the more I thought about Luc and Laney, the harder it was for me to see them together, and not because of Laney’s age. Laney never would have been interested in someone like Luc. She would have thought he was way too arrogant and intimidating. Laney had been a gentle-hearted girl who never would have stood up to Luc the way I had. The first time he raised his voice to her, she would have cowered and run. No, Elena McCabe would have gone for someone completely different, someone flirty, sexy, overwhelming, and dominant in a completely different way.
Someone like Gio.
“Ms. James?”
Bianca’s voice shook me out of my thoughts, and I blinked. “Yes?”
“The line? You liked it, yes?”
“Oh.” My cheeks heated when I realized I’d just spaced out. About Luc. Again. “Yes, the line was great. I just wish I could pull off some of those looks.” I shrugged and glanced down at my body, round in all the places Bianca’s was slim and straight. “Unfortunately, I’m not your target customer.”
“Are you kidding?” Bianca’s amethyst eyes sparkled as her gaze slid up and down my curves. “You have an amazing figure, and I wish I had what you have, believe me. Fashion should accentuate, not detract from the female form. Don’t let the models fool you. Designers use stick-skinny bodies as walking hangers. Too many curves and our buyers can’t see the designs.” She winked. “Tell you what. Luc mentioned you’re going to the Cipriani party tonight, yes?”
I nodded because that was what Ms. Pascal had put on the schedule. I knew Roberto Cipriani was some huge Italian designer, but he was way out of my price range, and I knew zilch about his lines.
“Let me send a gown over to your hotel for the party to prove it to you.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”
“I insist. You are a very beautiful woman, Ms. James. You should be accentuating the assets the rest of us wish we had instead of covering them up.”
My face heated at her flattery, but just as quickly, worry slid through my belly. “That’s very sweet of you, but Mr. Salvatici doesn’t want me wearing anything that takes the focus off him.”
“Oh, bah.” Bianca waved her hand and scrunched her face in distaste. “If Luc told you not to wear something, it’s because he doesn’t want every man in the room drooling over your body and trying to steal you away from him.”
I felt my face growing redder by the second, and an uncomfortable laugh tumbled from my lips. “Trust me, that’s not what he’s afraid of. In fact, I’m pretty sure that man isn’t afraid of anything.”
“There’s plenty he’s afraid of, but that isn’t the point. The point is that I’ve known Luciano Salvatici a long time, and I’ve never seen him look at another woman the way he kept looking back here at you. I’m fairly certain he missed half the show because of you, Ms. James.”
I was still reeling from her declaration that Luc was afraid of something when her last comment hit me.
Luc had missed half the show? Because of me? I knew he’d glanced at me several times, but was I somehow distracting him? The same way he was distracting me? My stomach flopped again, only this time it wasn’t disgust that sent it swirling in a choppy storm, it was disbelief, excitement, and a healthy dose of fear.
My heart sped up, and even though I tried not to, I couldn’t stop from glancing toward the empty door where Luc and that model had disappear
ed. “Um, you know Luc well?” I looked back at Bianca. “How well, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“We’ve been friends a long time. I’m a few years older, but our families are close. I guess you could say we grew up in the same circles.” She tipped her head. “We were never involved, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I was glad for that, but I still needed answers, and I no longer cared how I got them. “Does he date his models? Is this...” Shit, now I really sounded like a snoop. “Is it normal for him?”
A wry smile spread across Bianca’s face. “Luc is not usually involved in any of this. Truth be told, I was surprised when he arrived here today. Covet has always sent a different Salvatici representative to the fashion shows. As far as I know, he only just started working at the magazine, but I can tell you that in all the years I’ve known Luc, I’ve never seen him date a model. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that a model is the last woman Luciano Salvatici would ever get involved with, short-term or otherwise.”
That statement took me by surprise. Not just because Bianca said it with such conviction, but because I saw nothing but brutal honesty in her eyes when she held my gaze.
I looked back to the door Luc had exited through and swallowed hard. I wanted to know what Luc had been doing before taking his recent position at Covet. I wanted to know if he’d even had the time or ability to know Elena McCabe before her death. But right now, I needed to know what he was doing at this very moment even more. “The girl. The brunette. Is she all right? She seemed upset.”
“Sofia?” Bianca’s shoulders dropped on a sigh, and she glanced once toward the door, then back at me. “That poor thing. It’s her father. Luc’s known her family for some time. He went to check on her.”
Bianca didn’t seem at all disturbed about Luc following the young girl into a private room, so I took that as a good sign. “What’s wrong with her father?”
“Cancer, I’m afraid. He doesn’t have much time left. It’s been very hard on the family. Sofia started modeling a few years ago, but her father didn’t approve, so she quit. When he fell sick, the family needed money. I’ve tried to take her under my wing and protect her—she’s such a sweet young thing, only fifteen, you know—but she’s so strikingly beautiful, she’s already had offers from several big houses. She desperately wants to spend more time with her father before he passes, but the family needs the money. If she doesn’t go home, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time before she’s sucked into this whole maddening world.”
I glanced toward the empty doorway again and found myself imagining Sofia’s wide-set, big, round eyes. She was beautiful; even I couldn’t deny that. More beautiful than the other two models because she had a uniquely striking facial structure. I didn’t doubt that she was in high demand in the fashion world. Or that she had a huge career ahead of her.
I looked up at Bianca once more and was about to say so when I realized she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking past me to the frescoes on the walls above my head. Something dark lurked in her eyes. Something unsettling. Something filled with shadows that made my spine tingle all over again.
Before I could ask Bianca if she was okay, the look disappeared and she smiled down at me. “Now,” she said, her voice once more confident and warm. “What’s your dress size so I know which gown to pull for you?”
“Oh, um…six,” I said, wondering if I’d just imagined that haunted expression or if it had really been there.
Bianca pinned me with a skeptical look. “A six? Are you sure? I don’t believe it. Let me measure you. Your waist is way too small for a six.”
I frowned because I knew my waist might be too small but my butt definitely wasn’t, and while my breasts might not be huge, they easily filled out a size-six dress. “Okay, just promise you won’t be horrified by the numbers on the tape measure.”
Bianca laughed and motioned me to follow. Relieved she sounded normal again, I trailed behind her. She chattered on about the Cipriani party while we walked, but I only found myself half paying attention, because as we passed open doorways, I couldn’t keep from searching for Luc.
My steps slowed as we moved by an archway that opened to a sitting area with couches and chairs, and my heart kicked up when I spotted Luc standing in the center of the room talking with the blonde again. A whisper of jealousy I didn’t like shot through my chest, but I told myself his flirting with her was good news. It meant he really hadn’t been interested in Sofia as I’d thought.
Except…his flirting with the blonde didn’t make me feel a whole lot better. It only reminded me that I was still completely conflicted about the man, questioning what I thought I knew of him all while fighting an irrational attraction that would only cause me trouble in the long run.
That bad mood I’d been nursing before came rushing back, and when I looked up, I realized Bianca was already at the end of the hall, waiting for me. Giving myself a mental shake, I took a step forward to catch up with her only to spot Sofia rush into the sitting room from the corner of my eye.
Tears streamed down the girl’s face. She spoke quickly in Italian. The blonde’s lips turned down at the interruption, but Luc didn’t seem to mind. He captured Sofia when she launched herself at him and held the sobbing girl against his chest while she cried. I couldn’t make out what he said to her since they both spoke Italian, but I did catch the words falling from Sofia’s lips over and over. “Grazie. Grazie. Grazie, Luc.”
Thank you.
My spine tingled, and realizing I was staring, I moved past the open door and hustled after Bianca. But I had a sinking suspicion I’d just witnessed something I was not meant to see, and it stuck in my head the rest of the day, even after we’d left the Bandini appointment and moved on to the Cipriani fashion show late in the afternoon.
Thank you.
Whatever Luc had done for that girl had changed her entire world. I’d heard it in her voice. I’d seen it in her eyes. And I’d witnessed it on Luc’s face too when he’d rested his cheek on the top of Sofia’s head, closed his eyes, and held her gently against him.
A killer didn’t do that. A killer couldn’t fake that kind of compassion. Which meant…
Luc might not be the man I needed to be investigating.
My heartbeat turned to a whir in my ears. Luciano Salvatici had just changed my entire world too. And now I had absolutely no idea what to do next.
* * *
I kept a low profile at the Cipriani fashion show. I was still rattled, still trying to process what I’d seen earlier and make it fit with what I knew of Luc.
All the shows were held at Santo Spirito in Sassia, in the heart of the city. Luc had tried to chat with me about the private Bandini showing in the car on the way here, but I’d been too distracted to do more than mumble yes and no and nod as if I were paying attention. I knew he suspected something was up with me—even I knew I was acting strangely—but he didn’t ask in the car, and as soon as we’d arrived at our destination, I’d found a quiet corner to hang out in and quietly stress while the lights dimmed and the models took the stage.
A long runway was set up in the middle of the dark room. Chairs faced the catwalk on both sides so spectators could view the fashions from every angle. I spotted celebrities in the crowd of onlookers, a few famous sports personalities, even a member of England’s royal family, but my gaze kept sliding back to Luc in the front row. To the man who’d just rocked my world out from under me with one act of kindness I still didn’t understand.
He’d slipped back into his jacket and tie in the car and was now next to a well-known Hollywood actress. That actress flirted blatantly with him throughout the entire show, and he nodded and responded to her at all the appropriate times, but I sensed he wasn’t enjoying himself. Maybe it was the tightness to his spine as he sat in his chair. Maybe it was the flex of his jaw whenever he thought no one was watching. And maybe it was the way he kept glancing back to my dark corner as if to check that I was still there. I wasn’t
sure what was giving me this strange feeling. All I knew for sure was that this man—the one who seemed to fit this lavish lifestyle like a well-made leather glove fits a race-car driver’s hand—was not the real Luciano Salvatici.
I’d heard the real Luc when he’d spoken softly to Sofia and comforted the crying girl against his chest. I’d seen the real Luc outside my bedroom door when he’d smiled at me—not the fake smile he showed the world, but the real one that lit up his face, softened his features, and turned his stormy eyes a soft shade of silver that accentuated the unique shape of his left pupil. And I’d felt the real him in the hand closed tightly around my wrist against that doorknob. I’d felt him in the way his muscles had relaxed even though they still held me firm, in the way his pulse had slowed against my skin, in the way everything about him had shifted from agitated to calm and centered in the span of a heartbeat.
That was the real Luc, not this image of the perfect celebrity. Not the angry asshole who’d yelled at me in the car. Not even the arrogant CEO who’d belittled me on more than one occasion. The real Luc—the one who could set my body aflame with just one look—was hidden behind a mask.
I didn’t know what secrets he was protecting. I didn’t know why he’d shown me glimpses of his true self when he didn’t show them to anyone else. I only knew that I wanted to see more. I wanted to know what made him tick. Since this afternoon, since I’d witnessed that scene between him and Sofia, it was all I could think about. Just as the Phantom at that party on Long Island was all I’d been able to think about when I’d been with Gio.
A whisper of heat flared in my belly, slid up to encircle my breasts, and tightened my nipples.
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