by Dani Collins
“No,” he replied without apology, and was now distracted by the idea of hiring her for an evening. Of having the power to order her to do exactly as he pleased.
As if she was imagining it herself, and had her own erotic images painting through her mind, a delicious pink blush rose along her cheekbones. Her lips parted to allow a sip of air, leaving her mouth looking incredibly inviting.
The elevator stopped, throwing her off balance.
He caught her elbow to steady her. “Really,” he said, hearing how she affected him in the way his voice deepened to a graveled tone. “Your acting belongs on the screen.”
* * *
Cami jerked out of his hold and escaped through the opening doors, then halted to glare back at him. It was really hard to stalk away in a huff when she didn’t know where she was going.
He smirked. “Noni’s room is this way.”
He didn’t take her arm again, but her skin tingled. All of her felt as if it floated, yet the anchor of his mistrust dragged at her. She didn’t know how to prove herself to him, and was growing increasingly frustrated by the effort. If she didn’t have this lack of defense around him, it wouldn’t hurt so much, but it did.
“You won’t bring up your father. She doesn’t know anything about that.” The sudden grimness in his tone sent a shiver through her.
As if she enjoyed talking about that. Her throat ached, but she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe she was even here, going through with this dinner, but she was nice and didn’t want to be rude to his grandmother just because Dante was clawing up her insides.
He paused to knock on a pair of double doors. A female butler let them in, mentioning that their hostess was taking a call and would join them in a moment. She offered to pour drinks.
Hovering with tension, Cami glanced around the suite. The drapes were closed, but she could tell it was one of the hotel’s best, with a mountain view from the picture window. If she recalled correctly, there was a Juliet balcony outside the French doors. The gas fireplace was glowing, and a small dining table was set with china, silver, crystal and fresh flowers.
She had only ever been on the service side of places like this. She had to fight the urge to strike up friendly conversation with the butler, whom she regarded as her equal, rather than try to find common ground with Mr. Tall, Dark and Daunting.
He was watching her as though he expected a misstep any second.
Just as she thought she would incinerate from the eye contact, Bernadetta appeared, coming through from the bedroom with a warm smile. She was small and plump, gray hair smoothly gathered in a round bun. Her color was much better, the lines in her face softened. She immediately apologized for not using her English yesterday.
“You were distraught. I’m so glad you’ve recovered,” Cami said, accepting the woman’s gentle touch on her shoulders and soft kisses on each of her cheeks. She smelled like rosewater and motherly love, melting Cami’s heart if not her tension.
Bernadetta greeted Dante with similar affection.
“Thank you for fetching her. You’re a good boy.” She patted his cheek, which seemed a ridiculously tender thing to do to a man who was so obviously a man.
Bernadetta took the armchair, forcing Cami to lower onto the love seat next to Dante, thighs almost touching.
“I’m blessed with a doting family,” Bernadetta said. “That’s why I was delayed greeting you. I’ve been taking calls all day. That was Arturo, Dante’s cousin. He’s in Australia, looking at a property, but he saw my post in the family group and wanted to reassure himself I was feeling better. He seemed to think your name sounded familiar,” she said, taking Cami by surprise. “Do you know him?”
Startled, she shook her head. “I don’t know any Arturos, no.”
The wrinkles in Bernadetta’s forehead deepened with puzzlement. “He asked me if Cami was short for Cameo.”
“It is, but I don’t believe we’ve met. Unless... I did live in Italy briefly, ten years ago. I was only fourteen and it was Northern Italy. The Alps. Not Sicily.”
Dante’s expression had hardened.
She licked her lips. She wasn’t the one steering this conversation into dangerous waters! “If I met him in passing, I don’t recall,” she mumbled in a rush.
Bernadetta leaned forward with interest. “What brought you to Italy?”
“Skiing.” Her conscience pressed like a bed of nails on either side of her as she said it, now a victim of her own censure, not just Dante’s. “My parents moved us there so I could train under a world-class coach.” One who had cost a fortune.
She looked to the hands she had folded in her lap.
Was her dream the reason her father had stolen from Dante? She would never know. But she would always feel it was a factor, one that made her responsible for all that had happened to Dante, her parents and her brother. If her father hadn’t wanted to give her that training, he wouldn’t have stolen the money. They wouldn’t have had to leave Italy and come back to Canada. They wouldn’t have been on that icy road outside Calgary that had cost her parents their lives.
“Downhill? You were racing for Canada?”
“And slalom. I was hoping to make the team, but—” She cleared her throat. It took all her effort to smile through the excruciating pain of losing so much. Her chance, her coach, then her parents. For a while, she’d even lost her brother. She had learned how to slap a glossy prevarication on harsh realities, though. “I was injured and couldn’t continue.”
“You don’t ski at all anymore? That’s a shame.”
“Oh, I do,” Cami said ruefully. “It’s a bit of an addiction, but I can’t do it full-time, otherwise I’d give lessons for a living. I offer private lessons to children when I can. It works out well for tourist families. Parents can enjoy the more challenging runs knowing their children aren’t getting lost or winding up on a run beyond their level.”
“What a lovely thing to do. There, Dante. Let me send you skiing with Cami, as a thank you to both of you for looking after me so well on this trip.”
Her pulse spiked. Oh, heck, no. “Dinner is more than enough,” she hurried to protest. “Honestly.”
“Pssh. Dante works too hard. You’ll be doing me another favor. I was going to ask him to take me up the gondola tomorrow, to force him to take a break, but after my mishap, I’m just as happy to stay indoors.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose on your family time.” She glanced at Dante, unable to read his stony expression. “I’ll be leaving for Vancouver soon, anyway.” Help me out here.
“Oh, when is that? My niece and her husband will be coming to fetch me Monday, to drive me into the city. I’m staying with them until I fly back to Sicily. We have more than enough room to take you with us.”
Dear Lord. Could she dig herself any deeper? Cami silently begged Dante to conjure an excuse on her behalf.
He only sipped his drink and said, “Thank you, Noni. I didn’t think I’d have the chance to ski, but I’d like that.” The cool, half-lidded look he sent Cami warned against rejecting the old woman’s offer.
Spend the day with him? What sort of sadist was he?
And what sort of masochist was she that she held out a shred of hope for...something if she did. Softening? Understanding? A chance to redeem herself in his eyes?
“That’s very generous of you,” she mumbled into her own glass, confused by her reaction. “Thank you.”
The first course arrived, and the butler invited them to the table. Cami was able to keep the conversation with Bernadetta to neutral topics from there on, but it was a difficult evening. An oppressive yearning made her hyperaware of Dante and her own body language. Of the fact she was supposed to ski with him tomorrow.
Mix her one true love with a man she hated? She had to get out of it.
* * *
“That was weird that your cousin thought he knew my name.”
Dante had worried the whole thing was coming out of the bag and grudgingly
appreciated the way Cami had changed the subject.
“He does.” Dante glanced at the phone that had been pulsing regularly through dinner. Arturo wanted to hear from him. “Our mothers were the eldest of seven sisters. We ran wild on the estate all summer, especially after I lost my parents and lived with my grandparents permanently. He didn’t share my passion for cars or electronics, but he always encouraged me to follow my aspirations.”
For a time, Dante had wondered if it was an attempt to push him from being their grandfather’s successor, but Arturo had never enjoyed taking responsibility. He’d matured enough to be an asset on the acquisitions side of the family business, identifying opportunities like the Tabor, but back in their youth he’d been a playboy, partying and gambling in the stock market. He’d done surprisingly well at it, fortunately.
“When our grandfather died, Arturo was with me through every step, especially helpful with the way I’d been compromised by your father. He offered more than moral support. Financing. I needed it.” It was a lowering thing to admit, one that made his teeth clench to this day. “We’re like brothers. Naturally, he wants to know why I’m consorting with the family that betrayed me.”
Color rose in her cheeks.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened.
“I can find my own way home,” Cami told him as she crossed the lobby in a brisk clip.
He paced her easily, not even bothering to acknowledge the remark, only handing his ticket to the valet as they reached the entrance.
“We’ll wait in here where it’s warm.” Cami hadn’t brought a coat, and the spring weather was looking closer to winter now that night had fallen.
“What if you’re seen with me?” Cami challenged in a scathing whisper, giving him a wide-eyed look that was equal parts impending doom and disdain.
Dante’s thoughts on fraternization were evolving, given their kiss, but he would address that after he’d had time to work through it more thoroughly.
That’s why he hadn’t yet returned his cousin’s texts. He should be pushing Cami out the door and out of his life, but he couldn’t forget—literally couldn’t stop thinking about—the way she had felt in his arms. All through dinner, while she’d been advising his grandmother on which shops carried the best local art, he’d been thinking about taking her to his room. Spending the night with her, finishing what they’d started in her apartment.
Sleeping with his enemy would be the height of insanity, but there could be something very satisfying in it. As long as he maintained the upper hand. Carnal hunger gnawed at him, warring with his good sense.
The valet arrived, and they walked outside where the chill on the damp air made their breath fog. She waited until Dante had pulled away from the hotel to say, “I can’t go tomorrow. I sold my skis, and I’m not letting your grandmother rent any for me.”
His grandmother wasn’t exactly on a fixed income, but, “I intend to pay.”
“Then I am definitely not going.”
“She’ll want to see photos proving how much fun we’re having.” He enjoyed making that facetious statement, especially when it provoked a tiny noise of frustration in her throat. He smiled in the dark. “Why did you sell your skis?”
“Is that a real question? I don’t have a job or a place to live.” She spoke like she was explaining it to a child. “I needed cash to rent a storage locker.”
He made the turn toward her neighborhood, which was in the most modest part of a very affluent resort town. “What did your father do with all the money?”
“You tell me,” she said tightly. “You said earlier that I benefited from his crime, but I didn’t. Not in any way that I can tell.”
“No?”
She moved restlessly in her seat, muttering reluctantly, “Maybe I was supposed to. Maybe he was trying to pay for my training. I don’t know. I was fourteen, totally in my own world, barely aware what a mechanical engineer was, let alone who he worked for or what you were making together. I was close to getting a sponsorship, not a huge one, but enough to help. It fell through. Maybe he got desperate.”
Her tone of self-recrimination sounded real enough to niggle at him when he wanted to think of her as remorseless. “Did he have other debts?”
“Not that I know of. Living in Italy was expensive, I know that. We sold everything to go and had nothing when we came back. Both of my parents worked professional jobs, but we could only afford a tiny apartment in Calgary. They had a lot of hushed conversations, not saying much about any of it directly, but money issues were obvious. The only way I was able to train again was by getting my own job and saving up. After they were gone, and I knew more about what had happened, I assumed Dad had made a settlement of some kind. Gave the money back. That’s why I was surprised so much was still owed.”
“He promised to repay me every euro.”
“I know.” She clipped and unclipped the clasp on her handbag. “I’ve seen the statement he signed.”
Any time over the years that Dante had looked at that document, he became so sick with himself, he walked away. Now he was finally confronting the past with a woman who beguiled even as she threatened a second betrayal. He ought to be running far and fast. Instead, he was thinking the unthinkable.
“The only thing Mom ever said about any of it was that he admitted to something he didn’t do so he could come with us back to Canada and avoid a long legal battle.”
What else would the wife of a criminal say to their children? “What about your brother? Older? Younger? Does he have money?”
“No.” She snorted. “He’s at university in Vancouver, trying to get into the medical program.”
“He wants to be a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“That’s expensive. Postsecondary isn’t covered in Canada, is it?”
“He has a couple of scholarships, but yes. He’ll be up to his eyeballs in student loans for years by the time he’s done, so there’s been no benefit for him, either.”
“I can check that, you know.”
“Don’t you dare even think of interfering with his plans,” she warned with a tremble in her voice. “That’s a red line for me. It really is.”
And she would do what? He parked outside her building, finding her threats laughable. Useful. Clearly her brother was a pressure point.
She left the vehicle at the same time he did, and colored when she saw him come around to her side.
“You’re supposed to wait for me to open it for you,” he chided.
“This isn’t a date. Why on earth would you walk me in?” On the heels of that, she made a noise of realization, turning her head to the side, profile flinching. The streetlamp above her showed the light rain condensing on her hair in tiny sparkles, highlighting skin that was alabaster smooth. Her expression showed a brief struggle. He heard her swallow before she spoke in a voice that held a pang. “I’m not going to kiss you again.”
“No?” His chest tightened, and he made himself hold the distance that his libido was screaming at him to close. “Run inside, then.”
She turned only her head to look at him, face shadowed. Angry? Maddened, certainly.
So was he. This shouldn’t be happening. He ought to hate her. He did resent her. He resented this. But when she only stood there, blinking rapidly, he stepped forward and wove his fingers into her hair, clasping her head in his hands.
A helpless noise broke from her throat. More surrender than protest. She tilted her head back and parted her lips, offering her mouth to his. A gratified groan rumbled in his chest as he took the kiss she offered. Took and took and took, rubbing his lips across and against, parting and seeking and ravaging.
If he was being too rough, she didn’t let on that she didn’t like it. Her hands bunched into his shirt beneath his jacket, scratching lightly at his rib cage then clinging, pulling him in while her mouth moved under his and she moaned with pleasure that echoed his. When he swept his tongue into her mouth, she swirled her own against it, sucking
delicately, making his hands tighten in her hair, driving him insane.
He was going to ache all damned night from this. Everything in him wanted to take her inside and take her. But he remained standing there in the growing fall of rain, plundering the sweetness of her mouth until she finally pulled away to gasp for breath.
His own chest rose and fell like he’d been running a four-minute mile.
She dropped her hands and backed away another step, forcing him to let his own hands drop.
“Why is this happening?” Her whispered question sounded disturbingly vulnerable, like they were victims of the same tragedy, aligning them when he needed to remember she was only trying to coax him into forgiving her father’s crime.
He was damned close to doing it, if she would only, “Ask me to come in.” His voice wasn’t anything he recognized, ragged with sexual hunger and hard with the imperative gripping him.
She shook her head. “No.”
Toying with him?
She had the back of her hand pressed to her mouth. If her lips felt anything like his, they were hot and stinging. There was only one way to soothe that. His gut tightened in anticipation while he gritted his teeth in frustration.
He could accept that a trick of hormones had him reacting to a woman who was his mortal enemy. What he would not allow was for her to use his desire to manipulate him.
“Be ready early, then.” He managed to speak as if his interest had already waned.
Her gaze came up, shiny in the silvery light. Wounded?
“I’m not skiing with you! The only thing I want to hear from you tomorrow is that your accountant has confirmed I’ve been paying you back all this time. Feel free to text an apology at that point.”
“You just never quit, do you?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Be ready,” he warned. “Or I’ll make inquiries about your brother.”
Her head jerked like it was a blow she hadn’t expected. Like she didn’t understand he would find every advantage and use it without mercy.
“My father called you a visionary, you know.” She sounded disillusioned. “I remember because I was jealous that he talked about you with so much admiration. He was just as proud of me, but it still made me work harder, wanting to measure up to someone he regarded so highly. I thought you were someone worthy of his respect. I guess I was mistaken.”