by Dani Collins
“I believe you would care about our child. That’s why I’m letting this play out.”
“But I want to build a fulfilling life with someone I love who wants our children as much as I do. Not be the surrogate for your baby and double as its nanny!” She opened her helpless palms, pleading with him to understand.
His nostrils pinched as he drew a sharp breath, as though absorbing an unexpected blow. “I would endeavor to be a more involved father than I had, Rozalia.”
His stiff expression in the low light struck her as defensive. Her stupid, sensitive, insensible heart wrenched inside her chest. He was a man of untold wealth, but she was the one with the richer life, she realized with sudden clarity.
And she was defeated by that. By the recognition that she was the one in possession of something he needed—a heart. Her upbringing wouldn’t allow her to do anything but open hers to him. Offer it.
“Are the cell phones working?” she asked.
“The landline is.”
“I’ll call Mom.”
* * *
Late the next afternoon, Viktor walked into the top-floor suite of a sixteenth-century palazzo overlooking the Grand Canal in Venice and knocked on the closed bedroom door.
“I’m back. Do you want a drink?” he called.
Rozi had been pensive as they traveled. He had retreated, as well, having shared more than he intended to last night. She had capitulated to extending her stay, however, and had come here without protest. She had even expressed interest in the painting he was donating, then declined the stylist he offered and chose a gown herself from the selection he’d had brought in.
All this so they could begin “dating.” What a ridiculously pale word for the complex relationship they had formed on a very short acquaintance.
She swung open the door. “I can’t have alcohol until I know,” she reminded him.
“You’re ready,” he said, stunned as much by the fact she was dressed with shoes on as by her finished appearance.
He didn’t have a particular fetish for women dressed to the nines. Cleavage and heels were always a view he appreciated, but he found the layers of couture gowns and pristine makeup and teased-up hairstyles to be a type of look-but-don’t-touch armor. One that always took hours.
“I come from a family of six with one bathroom. I know how to get myself together in the time allotted.”
Did she ever. Her mauve gown wasn’t the most flamboyant choice, but it flattered her figure and allowed her inner fire to shine through. She had combed her hair into a waterfall of lush waves scooped off one ear, revealing a single gold hoop in her lobe. Her makeup enhanced her natural prettiness with earthy shades, and a nude shine on her lips was both sensual and kissable.
This wasn’t the objet d’art he was used to escorting, but a living, breathing woman, warm and vibrant and compelling. The only thing holding him off from touching her was the wariness she was still exhibiting, moving nervously back into the bedroom to gather a few things into her clutch.
“You look lovely.” He made himself go the other direction and pour a drink for himself, to steady his voice and control.
“Thank you.” She faltered as she joined him in the lounge, frowning in confusion. “Don’t we have to leave?”
“It’s my habit to pad the departure time for my dates.” He spritzed soda into orange juice for her. “You continue to surprise me.”
Her brows went up in exaggerated indignation.
“At least there’s time to exchange that if you don’t like it.” He nodded to the velvet box he’d fetched from the lobby.
“From downstairs?” she asked with the complete opposite of delight. A small cringe, in fact. “Please say it’s a loan?”
That took him off guard. He was always generous and wasn’t used to his gifts receiving anything but squeals of enthusiasm. “I bought it. They have an excellent reputation.”
“You know you’re paying for convenience in a place like this, right?” She sent him a look of exasperation. “Promise me that no matter what happens between you and I, you’ll let our shop vet your purchases moving forward. Mmm.” That was a sound of dismay as she peered at what was in the box.
“I told them we had an event and I wanted to make a statement.” He wanted the world to know she had value to him and he wanted her to know it. Maybe he’d also thought the diamonds a suitable inducement, given her trepidation at staying with him, but, “I genuinely thought it would look lovely on you.”
“Something this generic looks good on anyone. It looks good on a mannequin. But it’s designed to move stones, not hearts.” She pulled her loupe from her clutch and bent her head.
“You carry that with you?”
“Cell phone, credit card, loupe, lip balm, bus pass,” she listed off her essentials on her fingers and thumb. “The cut and clarity are nice. Even so, they can do better. And should.” She lifted her head. “Can I talk to them?”
“Are you going to make a scene?” He took a hit off the scotch he’d poured for himself, truly confounded by her reaction.
“I’m always very nice when I dress someone down.” She blinked her lengthened lashes. “You barely felt it at all.”
* * *
Rozalia emerged from the manager’s office twenty minutes later, thankful to be wearing a tasteful and truly interesting necklace of amethysts set in platinum.
Was Viktor annoyed with her? Insulted that she had rejected his gift? She couldn’t tell. He lifted his head from reading his phone to peruse her new adornment, then met her anxious gaze with a completely impassive expression.
“I agree,” he stated dryly.
Was he patronizing her?
The manager fell over himself apologizing to Viktor, crediting him with a full refund for the original necklace and not charging for the one Rozi now wore.
“You did not pay for that yourself,” Viktor said in an ominous tone.
“We’ve come to a different arrangement.” She waited until they were in the back of his car to explain. “I promised to put him in contact with my uncle and arrange for some pieces from our curated collection to be sold through this location. It’s a win-win. Barsi on Fifth is always looking for ways to expand its visibility.”
“What did you say to make him so apologetic after losing a sale that would have paid his lease for months?”
“Oh, you know me and my buses.” She tried to sound blasé. “I shamelessly threw you under one. I said you should have explained my connection to the Barsi family and that I’m sure if he’d known we were going to an art museum, he would have steered you toward something with more artistic and conversational value.”
His gaze went to the necklace.
“It’s made by a local goldsmith. She’s still new, but she’s managed a very tricky balance—literally. The chain won’t slide even though this side of the design has the majority of the stones. I’m quite impressed and will tell everyone what a good eye he has for spotting emerging talent.”
“Was it his eye? Or did you educate him on that, too?”
“Are you angry? Viktor, the diamonds aren’t me. I would have felt like a mannequin, with nothing to say except ‘Thank you’ while people stared at them. I didn’t mean to act like a spoiled diva.”
“I don’t think you’re spoiled. Maybe a little,” he allowed with a considering tilt of his head. “Who turns up their nose at a small fortune in diamonds? It’s some of the most impractical behavior I’ve witnessed since you climbed into the back of a stranger’s car.”
“You’re laughing at me?” She felt giddily pleased. “I am a snob when it comes to jewelry. You might as well know that up front. But to my mind, this serves the higher purpose of giving me confidence.” She traced the edge of the platinum where it had warmed from sitting against her skin.
“You just put two men at the top of th
eir game into their place. How do you need confidence?”
“I mean in my looks and what sort of impression I’ll make. Intellectually, I’m fine. I know what I know and I won’t let anyone talk me down on that front.”
“Who talks down about the way you look? You’re beautiful.”
She shook her head, sorry she’d let her insecurity slip. She had resolved to extend her stay until they knew if she was pregnant, but she hadn’t been sure what that meant for them as a couple. There was a lot to unravel there. Thankfully they arrived at their destination, forestalling her having to talk about it.
“I’m not fishing for compliments. Just nervous,” she prevaricated.
“You’ll be fine.” He took her hand. His thumb skated across her opal as he drew her from the car onto the red carpet.
* * *
“I don’t think you were entirely honest with me,” Viktor accused mildly as he drew Rozalia onto the small dance floor a few hours later.
Her step faltered. “When? About what?”
Her shock and indignation were immediate. Predictable, even, making him smile inwardly. He had never met anyone who presented him or herself so candidly.
“You said you don’t like attention, but people love talking to you.”
“Oh, I can talk about art until people’s eyes cross,” she dismissed.
Yet, she didn’t. Instead, she discovered what interested others and asked about that. She was naturally curious and sought out wallflowers and an elderly woman with a cane who needed help rising and moving closer to inspect the painting. The woman was a patron of the museum, very influential, but that information skimmed past Rozi’s radar. She asked about grandchildren and advice on where to buy her mother a gift.
People watched them, which he was used to. His looks and the position he’d held from such a young age had made him a focus for years. His dates usually ate up that attention and ensured he held court the entire night. Other women tended to especially enjoy drawing male attention from all corners, which always niggled, given the betrayal he’d suffered in the past.
With Rozalia at his side, however, he was able to relax. She turned her share of heads, usually with her warm laugh, but didn’t seem to notice. She wasn’t shy, but quickly gave up the floor to others. It was probably because she came from a big family, but he found it enormously refreshing to be with someone comfortable in who she was without demanding outside validation for it.
It made her remark earlier about not having confidence in her looks all the more puzzling. She might not be the most obviously beautiful woman in the room, but she was definitely the most attractive. He was particularly drawn by his knowledge of how much passionate heat was contained behind her naturally warm smile.
As the craving inside him came more firmly to the fore, he felt as though he might be revealing too much as he held her. His guard was not as firmly in place as he liked, having been disarmed a number of times by her already. He attempted to tamp down on his reaction.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist trailing his hand to the place where the back of her dress dipped beneath the fall of her hair. He caressed the warm skin he found there, feeling a small quiver go through her as he did.
A growl of approval caught in his throat, nearly released. The golden hoop in her lobe teased him, begging for his head to dip so he could nip lightly at the shell of her exposed ear.
“Viktor, please don’t...” She licked her lips and her hand twitched in his.
Had he been squeezing? He shifted his grip, caressing his thumb into her palm to reassure her.
A light flush of pleasure touched her cheeks, enthralling him further.
“I need to know. You said we’re dating, but is that merely the impression we’re giving? Is tonight just an attempt to change the story in case...?”
In case she was pregnant, she meant.
“Because you said that necklace was a statement,” she hurried on. “Which is fine. I realize what you’re trying to accomplish publicly, but I need to know what you expect privately.”
“That’s up to you.” He was more than prepared to move back to physical intimacy. Sexual tension continued to simmer closely beneath the surface between them, enticing in the extreme. However, “I’m not taking anything for granted,” he assured her.
“Neither am I,” she said with a dry chuckle. “That’s why I need you to spell it out. Your interest in me has been very transient. I don’t want to interpret all these grand gestures of yours as something they’re not.”
Transient? His interest in her bordered on obsessive.
“Let’s continue this conversation in private.”
* * *
Restless male hunger and some other inscrutable tension lined his expression.
Rozi bit her lip, nervous to be alone with him, but she was feeling too vulnerable to stay here. She’d already been unsure of herself and confused as to where they stood before he’d spent an evening acting like an attentive suitor. His touch just now had brought her insecurity to a head.
She nodded and he drew her back to their table to fetch her purse and say their brief goodbyes. They didn’t talk again until they were back at the hotel.
He went directly to the wet bar as they entered their suite, then made a dismissive noise. “I keep forgetting we’re not drinking.”
“You can drink. It doesn’t bother me.”
“No, it’s just a distraction from a situation I find uncomfortable.” He pushed his hands into his pockets and seemed to grapple with his own thoughts and emotions, sounding genuinely remorseful. “I’m not used to being so far in the wrong. I’ve tried to explain how I’ve been conditioned to believe everyone has an ulterior motive, but I wish I had handled things better that first night. You have a right to be angry at the things I said. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Viktor. It’s not just that,” she said on a heavy sigh. “I mean, thank you. I needed to hear that. But I wish I had your skepticism sometimes. I’ve been stung before, thinking a man was being sincere when he wasn’t.”
“Who?” he demanded, sounding so affronted she almost thought he was jealous.
“A couple of people I dated.” She shrugged it off but stopped short of saying they didn’t matter because they did. “I think I’ve mentioned that Gisella has star power. She doesn’t encourage men to slobber all over her, but they do. Some have seen me as a means of getting to her and I only realized that after the fact.”
She tried to find an unbothered smile, but felt sick, as if she was peeling back her own skin to reveal how badly she fell short, even though she had worked hard to believe she deserved everything she longed for.
“I try not to be jealous of her,” she continued. “But I always have been a little. She was an only child, very well-off, forever wearing designer clothes and getting the latest gadget. The irony is, she would say she’s always been jealous of me. Her parents divorced and I told you how she’s always felt out of step with the rest of the family. Our mothers are half sisters, but very different. Mine is very supportive and hers is more aloof. I know what I have. I wouldn’t give up any of it for her looks and popularity, but I have learned that I’m not the kind of woman men go for.”
“These sound like very superficial men you date.”
“Some have been, yes. Probably because I’m someone who wants to believe the best in people and wants there to be depth when there is none. But I’ve learned to be cautious, which is another reason I was still a virgin the other night—and so disappointed afterward.”
“Disappointed.” He released the word on a breath that seemed to whoosh as though from a body blow.
She swallowed. She wasn’t trying to jab at him, just explain.
“Part of me was thinking that at least there was no chance you were actually interested in Gisella, that for once I’d met a man who might actually be intereste
d in me.”
“That’s why you called me a player.”
“You behaved like one!” Her fingertips bit into her upper arms as she threw that at him, not sure how he would react.
His cheek ticked. He looked to the bar as though wanting a drink. Made a face.
“It’s true that I wasn’t thinking ahead to anything more serious than dinner. Certainly not that we’d end up here, contemplating marriage, mere days later.”
“I know. And I wasn’t anticipating anything this serious, either. But I didn’t expect such a big moment for me to be so inconsequential to you.”
He closed his eyes in a flinch. When he opened his eyes, his brows came down into a low, thick line, scolding almost. “Surely you’ve realized by now that the only reason we’re in this position is because I was as lost to the experience as you were.”
Her heart turned over. She wanted to believe him. Needed to. But, “How could I? I have nothing to compare it to.”
“I forgot the condom, Rozalia. I never forget.” He hooked his hands on his hips. His shaky sigh seemed to rattle his chest, while his expression fought emotion. “But you’re right. I should have told you that you were remarkable. You are.”
A wave of tingling pleasure suffused her even as murmurs of doubt warned her not to get caught up in his belated compliment. These words could be sorcery and the fancy of her destructively optimistic nature.
“We are remarkable together, Rozi,” he stated gravely, coming toward her to banish every possible qualm with the magic of his strong hands cradling her face, gentle and reverential. “If you believe nothing else, believe that I will never forget that night as long as I live. With or without anything that has come after, that night will never be inconsequential to me. I should have said that then. I should have...”
His thumbs moved across her cheeks in a troubled caress. He lowered his head to press his mouth to hers, tender and soft. His lips grazed hers in sweeps of remorse and gratitude and a desire to heal, causing such a sting of sweetness she flinched.