The Change in Di Navarra's Plan

by Lynn Raye Harris

  There was something electric in his gaze, something that shot straight to the deepest heart of her and twisted an emotion out of her. She took a sip of her wine. How very annoying to not be able to control her response to him. To be exactly like every other woman who couldn’t control herself around him.

  Except that she could control herself. And she would.

  He said something to the men and then he was striding toward her, confident and sure. Until, for the briefest of moments, he seemed to favor his right leg. Faith frowned. A second later, he was moving as gracefully as ever. And yet she was positive he’d been in pain. That was the leg with the pins, the one that had been supposed to end his career several years ago.

  “I’m sorry to have left you standing here alone,” he said.

  Faith shook her head, frowning at the thought his leg might be bothering him. “Not at all. You came here to talk to Mr. Stein. That should take precedence.”

  He tilted his head as he studied her. It disconcerted her until she wanted to drop her lashes and shield her eyes, but she would not shrink from him. It was not the first time tonight he’d looked at her that way. Each time, she felt as if he were dissecting her and viewing the parts individually. As if he weren’t quite certain what to make of her.

  Well, she wasn’t certain what to make of herself. What was she doing at a party full of rich people, pretending to be the date of one of the most handsome and dynamic men in the world? No one would believe it for a minute.

  She didn’t. She just wanted to be at home, wrapped in her fuzzy robe and reading a book. That was believable.

  “You are interesting, Faith,” Renzo said.

  She lifted her chin. She would not be flattered by his smooth charm. “Not really. I’m just doing my job.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you call it?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m here because you asked me to be, plus you offered to pay me. It’s work.”

  He looked amused. “And what if I asked you to come to Italy with me? Would you do it?”

  Faith swallowed. Italy? She couldn’t pretend that the thought didn’t excite her. She’d never been out of the country before, and she couldn’t imagine a more wonderful place to go. Pasta, pizza, cappuccino. Mmm. It made her mouth water just to think it.

  She’d always believed she would be shuffled to another of the company’s officers once Renzo returned to Europe. She still believed it. He couldn’t really be serious. He had another factory in Italy, and another office that was no doubt staffed with an efficient Italian PA.

  “That depends,” she said, her throat constricting around the words.

  “I need you, Faith. You keep my life together, and I don’t want to live without you.”

  Faith could only blink. And then she had to suppress a laugh—because how many women would die to hear Renzo say those words to them? Of course he meant them a very different way, but it was still amusing.

  “I wish I had a tape recorder,” she said, and then bit her lip when she realized she’d spoken aloud.

  He looked perplexed. “Why is this?”

  Faith shrugged, laughing. What was the use in denying it? “Because I could probably sell it many times over. I can think of a handful of women who would pay to hear those words from your lips. And I’m sure there are more trailing in your wake. I could retire early.”

  Renzo laughed. “Ah, si, it could be very profitable for you. And yet I hope you will consider my offer to accompany me to Italy.”

  “You haven’t made the offer yet,” she said, feeling bold and breathless at the same time.

  His smile was turned up full force. “Have I not? Dear Faith, please accompany me to Italy. I will give you a twenty percent raise and cover all your expenses while we are abroad.”

  Twenty percent. Faith swallowed. “Well, as wonderful as that is, I think you’ve forgotten something.” Because she had to be honest, no matter how much she might like to leap on the offer.

  “And what is that?”

  “I don’t speak Italian. I don’t speak anything but

  English, in fact.”

  His smile did not dim. “And yet the international language is English. How do you suppose people in Italy converse with people in Germany? No, this is not an issue. Besides, you will learn Italian while you live there.”

  “I—”

  “Renzo, darling, there you are,” a cultured female voice called out, interrupting them. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

  Renzo stiffened as he turned toward the owner of the voice. The woman sauntering toward them was a stunning salon-blonde, dressed in a tight-fitting black sheath that showed a mile of tanned leg. Her hair hung long and straight down her back, and her makeup was absolutely perfect. She wore a fat diamond-drop necklace and matching earrings, and her shoes were gold.

  “Lissa,” Renzo said. “How nice to see you again.”

  Lissa’s gaze fell to Faith and slid over her with no small measure of contempt. The look very clearly said back away.

  Oh puh-leeze. As if Faith were any competition. Still, she tilted her chin up and stood her ground.

  Lissa turned her smile on Renzo. “Do I not get a kiss, darling? I had thought you Italians were all about the kiss when greeting friends.”

  “Of course.” Renzo kissed her on both cheeks in the Italian manner and then turned and put an arm around Faith. Lissa’s eyes narrowed to slits while Faith’s entire body lit up like a firecracker as Renzo pulled her into the curve of his powerful frame.

  This was not what she’d agreed to tonight, and yet in a way it had been. She was his date.

  “Lissa, this is Faith.”

  Faith held her hand out, surprised it didn’t shake when inside she was trembling so badly. Why, when she didn’t even like him all that much?

  Lissa took it after a moment’s hesitation. “Very lovely to meet you,” Faith said.

  “Yes, lovely.” Lissa’s tone said it was anything but. “Renzo, I had hoped to speak with you. Alone,” she added, her smile never wavering.

  Renzo’s fingers skimmed over Faith’s bare arm, his touch setting off a chain of reactions inside her that ended with a sharp current of need settling between her thighs. She’d never felt anything quite like it. And she was furious it was happening now, here, with this man.

  Her boss made Casanova look like an amateur, for pity’s sake. She knew it, and yet she responded anyway.

  “You may say whatever you wish to say in front of Faith,” Renzo countered. “She is completely trustworthy.”

  Lissa pushed her hair over one shoulder with an indolent gesture. Her eyes sparked. “It can wait,” she said tightly. And then she smiled. Faith had the impression of razor-sharp fangs lining the other woman’s mouth. “Perhaps a bit later, then.”

  “Perhaps,” Renzo said.

  Someone called to her, and Lissa turned and waved. “If you will excuse me, I must mingle.”

  “Of course,” Renzo replied. “Do not let us keep you.”

  Lissa insisted on kissing Renzo on both cheeks again and held her hand out to Faith, pressing it limply before gliding away in a cloud of malevolence that was quite possibly stronger than her perfume.

  “Let me guess,” Faith said coolly, moving out of his grasp when the other woman had joined a group of people a few feet away. “She is the reason you needed a date tonight.”

  “Si,” Renzo said.

  Faith turned to look up at him, exasperated, and just a little hurt. “Honestly, I don’t know why you just don’t do what you always do and be done with it.”

  His brows drew together. “What I always do?”

  “Oh please, don’t act as if you don’t know. I’ve worked for you for six months, and I’ve yet to see a woman last more than a month with you. You w
ine them, dine them, give them presents and dump them.”

  It was bold of her, but she’d had just enough wine to loosen her tongue. To be on the safe side, she deposited the half-finished glass on the terrace wall. If she drank the whole thing, heaven knows what she might say to him.

  Renzo grinned. Not at all the effect she’d been going for. “You forgot one, Faith.” She frowned, but he leaned toward her and spoke before she could say anything. “Bed them.”

  A flash of heat shot through her. Dammit! “Yes, of course. How could I forget that one? Silly me.”

  She realized she was standing before him with her arms crossed defensively when he put his hands on her shoulders and skimmed them down her arms. “I had no idea you were so outraged by my behavior,” he teased.

  Faith scoffed as she tried very hard not to react to his skin touching hers. Why didn’t she just shove him away? “Outraged? I have no say in anything you choose to do. I am not outraged. It was merely an observation.”

  He put a finger under her jaw and tipped her chin up. His sharp eyes glittered with some hidden passion that hadn’t been there only a moment ago. It shocked her. And intrigued her.

  He was so close. Too close, the heat emanating from him enveloping her, making her long to press into him and see just how hot she could feel. Would she burn up in his embrace?

  No. No, no, no. She would not think of her Italian playboy boss in that way. It wasn’t safe. It was irresponsible. Reckless.

  Faith did not do reckless. The one time she had, it had cost her far more than she could have ever dreamed. She was finished with reckless.

  “But you disapprove,” Renzo said.

  “Not this time.” And she almost meant it, except for the fact it would mean Renzo would actually sleep with that obnoxious woman. Though, on the other hand, the woman would pay for it in the end when Renzo dumped her. Faith might enjoy shopping for that parting gift. “Go for it.”

  He laughed. “And what makes you think I have not

  already? That she just doesn’t understand I no longer want her?”

  It was a valid point, but she knew better because she’d witnessed the fallout too many times. The tears, the desperate phone calls, the attempts to sneak past her and into his office in order to plead for another chance. Women could be, she’d decided, awfully pitiful sometimes. She wanted to tell them to get some dignity, to stop begging and go on with their lives. Men like Renzo were immune to histrionics.

  “Because a woman who has been subjected to the D’Angeli treatment is usually angry with you. She wasn’t. She wants you, and pretty badly I’d say.”

  The look in his eyes was sharp. He moved a step closer and she shuddered involuntarily. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, much too innocently. “I like the way you talk, Faith. It sounds like sweet syrup, all long and drawn out as if you had all day to speak. Not like the women in New York.”

  “That’s because I’m from Georgia. It’s hot there. We talk slow and walk slow and, well, do a lot of things slow.” My God, she was babbling. To her urbane, gorgeous boss. Where was her dignity?

  One of Renzo’s dark eyebrows arched. “Really? I can imagine that some things are done best when done slowly. How wise you people from Georgia are.”

  Her heart was slamming into her ribs and a fine sheen of moisture was rising in the valley between her breasts. “I sound no different now than I have for the past six months. I can’t imagine how you haven’t noticed it before.”

  He took another step and she backed up, found herself against the wall of the terrace where it curved inward. He put a hand on the wall beside her, trapping her as his other hand came up and caressed her jaw.

  It was electrifying.

  “I have been wondering this myself,” he said. “You have hidden yourself well, Faith.”

  Her body hummed with electricity that she feared would scorch her if it continued for much longer. “I’ve hidden nothing. I’ve come to work every day and sat at a desk not ten feet from your office door. I’ve brought you coffee, papers. I’ve fielded phone calls and given you reports. And I’ve gone shopping for those goodbye presents for your women—”

  “Ah,” he said softly, “you are offended.”

  “No,” she replied. But then, because she couldn’t help it, she added, “Though I think you should shop for your own presents.”

  Renzo laughed. “Perhaps you are correct, and yet you always choose the nicest things. How can I compete?”

  “By employing a full-time personal shopper?”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth for a moment and she sucked in a breath, trying to calm her racing heart. He hadn’t backed away, hadn’t taken his hand from her cheek in all this time they’d been talking. The sharp ache throbbing inside her was nearly unbearable.

  And unfathomable.

  “You have lovely eyes,” he said. “Why do you hide them behind those hideous glasses all day long?”

  She stiffened. “They’re reading glasses. I need them to do my job.” A different kind of heat scorched her now.

  Someone laughed nearby, and then Lissa’s voice drifted over the others. “So plain and unattractive. Honestly, I can’t see what he sees in her. Must be an Italian thing.”

  Time seemed to stand still for a moment, hovering in the air above Faith’s head, threatening her with old humiliations and hurts. And then it drifted down over her, covering her in feelings she would rather forget.

  She told herself not to care, but she did anyway. It hurt, being the center of negative attention. Though nothing Lissa said could come close to what Faith had gone through in the past when Jason had betrayed her trust, she was surprised to realize that it still had the power to hurt her.

  For a moment, she was back in high school. Hearing the taunts, the snickers, the innuendos. Feeling the anger, the urge to lash out, the urge to escape.

  Renzo’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, Faith.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said lightly, drawing on hard-won reserves of strength. “She’s just jealous.” But moisture swam in her eyes and her throat ached with the effort not to let any tears fall. She thought that she’d learned how to deal with this eight years ago, but she’d been wrong. You never got over people pointing their fingers and laughing at you.

  “We will go now,” Renzo said, his hands on her shoulders once more, this time imparting comfort rather than setting her on edge.

  “No!” Faith swallowed the lump in her throat. She would not run. Not this time. “No, that’s exactly what she wants. Besides, have you got what you came here for tonight?”

  He’d spent a few minutes with Robert Stein, but it had been in the company of others. And she was fairly certain he’d not talked business upon first arriving. No doubt he’d been hoping to broach that subject a bit later.

  He frowned. “That is unimportant.”

  Impulsively, she put a hand on his chest. The fabric of his tuxedo was smooth, cool, but beneath it his body was hard and hot. She knew he was in excellent shape considering that he was a top Grand Prix rider—not to mention she’d saved the heat-inducing magazine ad where he’d posed in his leathers with the zipper opened to his navel. She’d been unable to deny how sexy he was in that ad, even if she did think him heartless when it came to women. The magazine had gone into her keeper pile, much to her dismay.

  Still, after all that, she was unprepared for how his body felt beneath her hand.

  Power and leashed strength waiting for the right instant to explode into action. At the moment, however, he seemed very still beneath her touch, nothing but the beat of his heart vibrating against her palm. It was almost as if he was purposely holding himself still.

  Faith forced herself to focus. “Please, Renzo, the Viper is important to you. Talk with Mr. Stein. Don’t worry abou
t me. I can handle myself.”

  She’d learned how after a trial by fire she would never forget.

  His fingers wrapped around hers where they rested on his tuxedo. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss there that sent a shudder rocketing down her spine.

  “You are quite remarkable, Faith,” he said softly.

  “Hardly,” she replied. She needed to put distance between them, now more than ever. She didn’t like this hot, achy feeling he called up inside her. It could come to no good for her. Even if he were interested in a plain girl like her, she had a lot more to lose than his usual women. Unlike the others, she’d find herself brokenhearted and jobless once he decided to dump her, were she foolish enough to give in to this silliness inside. “I’m thinking of my bottom line. If the Viper succeeds, then I can ask for an even bigger raise.”

  Renzo threw back his head and laughed. “Indeed. Then come with me, cara.”

  And, twining his fingers in hers, he led her into the center of the garden party.

  CHAPTER THREE

  RENZO WAS IN A good mood. Aside from Lissa Stein’s behavior—and the way his leg now throbbed after so much time standing on it—it had been a good evening. Stein had expressed interest in building custom tires for the Viper, and an acute interest in an exclusive partnership with D’Angeli Motors, should the Viper prove a success during the time trials next month in Italy. The bike wasn’t quite ready yet, but Renzo had high hopes they’d be able to begin training for the MotoGP season soon.

  But, more interestingly, he was very much intrigued by the woman sitting beside him in the limousine. He’d kept her close for the rest of the evening, ushering her through the gathering like a prized possession. Lissa Stein had stayed far away, grazie a Dio.

  While that had been his priority in bringing Faith tonight, he’d found that he rather enjoyed having her near. She made no demands. She did not simper or whine or pout. In fact, she seemed quite prickly, and she’d taken him to task over the women in his life. Rather than finding it impertinent, he’d been amused.