Bought with the Italian's Ring

by Tara Pammi

  “This man? Is he following you here?”

  “No.” Conviction resonated in her tone. “When he realized I didn’t have any more money, he couldn’t dump me fast enough. Making it very clear that the only reason he’d been with me was because I was such a pushover.”

  “So you didn’t tell him about how your new grandfather was wealthy beyond imagination? No surprise visit from this lover of yours to play upon Gio’s heartstrings a little more? Have you already figured out that Gio’s an old fool who would love to see a little romance?”

  “Stop, please. He’s not coming here. Frank’s out of my life,” Pia replied, a sick feeling in her stomach. She could see what Raphael was getting at. And that his suspicions had basis only increased her shame. “For one thing, I didn’t know until I got here that Gio was wealthy. I don’t care whether you believe that or not,” she pushed on, when she sensed he would interrupt again. Blasted man! “I was just happy to know that I had family. That I wasn’t alone...”

  How could she make him understand how lonely she had been after Nonni’s death? How much Frank had played on that loneliness?

  Or what Gio’s affection, his kindness meant to her. “And, yes, I’ll even admit that if Frank had learned that Giovanni Vito is Vito Automobiles, he probably would’ve—” she forced herself to say the horrible words “—married me and sealed off the deal so that he could suck the blood and marrow out of Gio.”

  She shivered violently. Raphael silently draped another plush towel around her shoulders.

  Pia thanked him, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She didn’t want his kindness. She didn’t want anything from this man.

  “I need details about this Frank person.”

  She nodded. “Will you leave me alone then?”

  “What Giovanni did—”

  “The money he gave me, it’s a loan. I didn’t take a dollar more than the debt. And I intend to pay off every single cent.” She pulled her towel snug around her chest. “Your relationship with Gio, his affection for you, that’s the only reason I told you. You and I have nothing to do with each other, Mr. Mastrantino.”

  * * *

  She was wrong.

  Whether she was Gio’s granddaughter or not, whether she was disconcertingly naive or a cunning con woman, Pia was going to be his problem.

  Lashes spiked with small water drops, her damp hair curling wispily against her face, she looked incredibly young. And even with her declaration that she’d learned her lesson, there was still something very naive about her.

  It was disconcerting how much he wanted to believe her.

  There was grief in those big luminous eyes of hers, an earnestness that beguiled him.

  But more than that, he wanted to taste that trembling mouth. He wanted to wrap her tiny waist with his hands and bring her closer until he was wet along with her; until her soft curves brushed up against him.

  Until he could kiss away the trouble caused by another man.

  He wanted to wrap her in some sort of protective cocoon so that nothing deceitful could touch her.

  Dio mio, he had met her five hours ago and even he was already lured in by that innocence. Giovanni would do anything for this creature.

  But the fact that she could be telling the truth only made the problem worse.

  Not only had Gio had her decked up in diamonds and couture, he had released her into a hungry horde of Milanese social climbers.

  At least if she’d been a con woman, she would have been able to handle herself.

  He reached for her when she walked by him to leave. Feeling the calluses in her palm, he pulled up her hand.

  Her fingers were long and bare, with calluses at the tips of most. He had a sudden flash of Allegra’s perfectly manicured nails with baby-soft skin.

  “Why do you have calluses?” All this was just to know her, he reminded himself. To create a picture of her life for himself. To see if there were any holes in it. To see if a lie would crack through her elaborate pretense.

  Or it’s because, for the first time in years, you can’t stop yourself from touching a woman. Because the need to touch her, to taste her, is pounding in your blood.

  Fingers tracing his palm, sending pulses of heat through him, she frowned. He felt as if he had been earthed. “I could ask you the same. I thought CEOs had pampered, manicured hands and wore tacky, gold bracelets.”

  A strange, masculine satisfaction whirled through him.

  “I’m an automobile engineer first, a CEO second. I restore vintage cars when I find time.” He was already stretched superthin as it is and now this—her. “Which is very little. Now tell me, why do you have calluses?”

  “I carve wooden toys in my free time. A hobby really. Frank—” a stiffness thinned her mouth “—set up an online shop for me. The cash always came in handy and my students’ parents provided good word of mouth.”

  The man’s name on her lips pulled Raphael back to the matter.

  She blinked owlishly, as if trying to keep him in focus. He clenched his jaw tight. More pieces were falling into place.

  If she was conning all of them, he would see her in jail. But Raphael was forced to rethink his misgivings, to consider Gio’s trust might not be misplaced. She knew things about Lucia and Gio that no one did, at least, that was what Gio had told him.

  Also, he was a good judge of character.

  He’d been forced to be after his father’s suicide. He’d had to learn on his feet which creditor could be counted on to wait, which creditor was loyal to his father’s tarnished memory and which one would revel in humiliating his mother and sisters if Raphael came up short.

  If she was innocent... He could hardly bear thinking about the hordes of hungry, young, single Milanese men that would descend on her... Just tonight, it had taken every ounce of the force of his ruthless reputation to beat off the men who had wanted to follow her.

  Men who’d have stood in his place right now and watched moonlight sparkle in her eyes, seen the wet swimsuit cling to her toned, lithe body, seen the artless display of grief and joy that came into her eyes when she spoke of Lucia and Giovanni.

  “If I have to carve a million toys to pay Giovanni back, I will,” she said with a fierce pride shining in her eyes.

  He hardened his tone. “Even if you’re telling the truth, I can’t just let you walk away without making sure that you’ve not crushed his heart,” he added for good measure.

  Her soft sigh pinged over his nerves. Did she know how arousing that was? Did she even realize that the sight of her big, searching gaze, the way she stared at a man as if she meant to see through to his soul, could do things to a man she might not want?

  “Why do you think I agreed to that—” she pointed to the house now cloaked in dark shadows “—ridiculous show? Telling Gio about Frank probably wasn’t a good idea. All those men he invited, the way they were crowding around me... I didn’t realize his intentions until you pointed out how much attention I was getting. Clearly, he thinks I can’t take care of myself.”

  He’d been cruel to taunt her like that. Not that he was off the mark. But there was also an attraction to her that was rare. It was disturbing to think of her coming up against the men who only saw her as a ticket to their life’s fortune. “Can you?”

  “Even if I can’t, the last thing I want is help from a man like you,” she bit out, stepping back from him.

  He raised a brow. “A man like me?”

  “My experience with Frank taught me a valuable lesson. My so-called boyfriend that couldn’t dump me fast enough when the money dried up. You’re just like him—gorgeous, confident, arrogant—except a million times more. The women—they couldn’t get enough of you even when you barely glanced in their direction. And the men were so eager to please you, wanting to be like you.

  “You...exert your power or charm, or whatever the hell it is, over everyone you meet. You wield it to bend people to your will. Someone like me, you’ll use my attraction to you to put me
in my place, to prove that you’re right no matter what the truth is. To prove that I’m somehow less because I’m not everything you are. Accusations that have no basis in truth, I can handle. But you mock who I am and that I won’t forgive.”

  He felt as if she’d punched him, because it was exactly what he had thought of her. “Someone like you?” He repeated her words to hide his reaction.

  Pain streaked through her eyes. The depth of her emotions, the sheer transparency of them was like nothing he’d ever seen before.

  “A shy, plain, boring elementary teacher who knows nothing about men.” She repeated the words as if by rote, and suddenly he knew in his bones who had said them to her. “First you’ll use it to dig into me to figure out if I’m telling the truth.

  “Then you’ll use my lack of sophistication to persuade Gio that he’s right and that I need to be wrapped up in bubble wrap because I’m too naive, too foolish. That I’ll somehow bring someone like Frank into this...kingdom of yours.

  “I don’t care whether you believe me or not. Just stay away from me. We don’t have to see each other for you to make sure that I’m not fleecing Gio, do we?”

  Her slender shoulders straight, the line of her spine a graceful curve, she looked like a water nymph. Leaving Raphael spellbound in more than one way.

  If she was a con woman, he’d see her in jail. But if she was indeed Gio’s granddaughter, she was absolutely forbidden to him.

  Even if it was the most real conversation he’d had with a woman. Ever.

  CHAPTER THREE

  STAY AWAY FROM ME.

  Pia’s words followed him as Raphael walked around the estate and made sure the staff put every last inebriated or otherwise high-flying guest into their vehicles. He bid the tired staff to their beds after they put the ballroom to rights.

  He didn’t know if Gio thought the ball successful but Raphael thought it had been sensational.

  Whoever Pia was, she’d meant those words. His accusations had hurt her, but it was the other thing she’d said that pricked him even now.

  You mock who I am.

  Had he mocked her because with her naive views and long sighs she’d seemed like an impossibility? Or had he mocked her because he resented that innocence, those stars in her eyes?

  Because he’d never had a chance to be like that.

  He was about to call it a night and settle into one of the spare bedrooms, as he sometimes did, when he spied the master of puppets.

  Scowling, he followed Giovanni into his study and closed the door behind him with a loud thud.

  Giovanni handed Raphael a glass of red. As if he’d known that his godson wouldn’t leave without this talk.

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Raphael said as Giovanni plopped down onto the sofa with a long sigh. Because of his agile mind and his penchant for playing games, Raphael sometimes forgot that Gio was old. His wrinkled hands shook as he lifted the glass to his mouth.

  “You’re far too excited, Giovanni. This is not good—”

  “What do you think of my new granddaughter?”

  Knowing that he wouldn’t get a word in until they talked about Pia, Raphael shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d custom ordered her at a store.”

  The old man frowned. “What? Why?”

  Raphael stared into his drink. But it was the long fluid line of Pia’s back, the drop of water that had run down her damp skin that he saw. The outrage in her eyes when he’d accused her. The hurt when he’d called her naive and meek.

  “Raphael?” Gio prodded.

  “She fits your requirements for a granddaughter a little too perfectly, don’t you think?”

  A sneaky smile twitched around Gio’s lips. “So you admit that she is perfect.”

  Raphael raked his fingers through his hair, frustration and something else—no, not something else. It was lust pounding at him. Lust that had never seemed so complicated or so fierce before. And the last thing he needed was for Gio to scent how attracted he was to Pia.

  “I don’t mean it that way. An innocent, shy, clearly out of her depth orphan who travels across the world searching for her legacy, searching for her grandmother’s lover... Damn it, Gio, you’ve always been desperate for a child, for someone to love. She’s the perfect lure to tug at your heartstrings.”

  “She’s nothing like my fiery Lucia—”

  “Or her manipulative grandfather, if you’re truly that,” he added.

  “Si. She’s young and sweet. I feel as if the burden of looking after Lucia was too much for her. No wonder that man preyed on her.”

  Raphael scowled. “Did you even check the legitimacy of her claim before you advertised her to all of Milan with her inheritance hung around her neck like a sign?”

  Gio frowned as the meaning sank in. “I have no doubt that she’s Lucia’s and my granddaughter.”

  “Excuse me if I save my teary-eyed approval for later.”

  “You have become a hardened ass, Raphael. Mistrustful of your own shadow.”

  “I’m realistic. After three marriages, one would think you would be too. One would think you’d see beneath the wide-eyed innocence and the fragile naïveté.”

  Silence met Raphael’s outburst. A pounding was beginning behind his eyes. Something was very wrong with this talk and yet he couldn’t place it.

  Giovanni studied him over the rim of his wineglass. “I watched you watch her tonight. I heard some of the things you said to her. You were exceptionally cruel.”

  Raphael blanched at the matter-of-fact words. He had been, and that was not counting the stuff he’d said later, at the pool. He didn’t like losing control of situations around him. He loathed losing control of himself. Thanks to her, both had happened tonight. And it had erased the little charm he usually had.

  He’d aimed where it would hurt most and shot. He prided himself on his reputation for ruthlessness, and yet tonight it sat like acid in his mouth.

  “And you didn’t come to her rescue, knowing what I would do. What the hell are you playing at, Gio?”

  “I knew you would grill her, that you would try to poke holes in her story. I didn’t know you would dance with her, or hound her until she ran away from you. I didn’t know you would lose your legendary control.” He said it as if he was calculating a complex puzzle. “What did she say when you cornered her by the pool?”

  A chill climbed up Raphael’s spine. He’d been so close to kissing her. If Gio had heard of it... “Christo, did you have the staff spying on us?”

  Suddenly, the frown cleared. His eyes twinkled, in that satisfactory way that raised every hackle Raphael had. “You were more ruthless than usual. You are attracted to her...” His gruff voice deepened. “You want her.” Raucous laughter burst out of him, and he slapped his thigh hard.

  Raphael scowled. He had a feeling this was what Giovanni had waited and watched for. “I’d like to remind you that the woman you’re talking about is your granddaughter.”

  “She got behind your...defenses, isn’t that what they say? And you don’t like it. Tell me, Raphael, are you interested in Pia?”

  Raphael sat back, something about that question sending a chill wave through him. “You talk as if she were cattle you’re trying to sell,” he evaded.

  All he wanted to do was walk away. From this discussion and from that woman.

  Of all the people in his life, Giovanni was the one person who could see through his ruthlessness, who’d known Raphael before he’d become hard and cynical. Who knew that Raphael didn’t like even a bit of weakness, any trace of vulnerability. And being attracted to a woman in a way he didn’t understand was a weakness.

  But he couldn’t leave. Not until he knew what Giovanni was up to.

  “Answer the question.”

  “I’m rarely interested in any woman for more than one night.” He made his voice harsh. “And definitely not in a woman who flees if I so much as touch her hand.”

  Finally, he saw a flash of his godfather’s inf
amous temper in his eyes. His mouth lost that arrogant twist that always meant Gio was up to no good. Since he usually reserved that for his parasitic relatives or money-hungry exes, Raphael didn’t much care.

  “Do not cheapen her.”

  “I’m the one cheapening her?” He took a deep breath, modulated his tone. “Tell me, Giovanni. What does it mean if she’s your granddaughter?”

  “It means she already owns a piece of my heart and I will do everything in my power to do right by her. It means she inherits everything I own. Including my stock in VA.”

  Dio, he was going to give her the stock in VA?

  The stock that Raphael wanted. He could have bought Gio out ten times over in the last few years. Could have established his exclusive ownership of the company.

  For reasons he refused to share, Gio had always denied Raphael’s request. Even though Raphael was the only one with executive and operational powers at Vito Automobiles, Gio refused to leave the board. In short, the old man had always loved playing games.

  “So now all that stock will rest in the hands of a woman who, by her own admission, was so desperate to be loved, to be wanted, that she fell for the sweet words of a lowlife? Who not only signed away the little money she had but actually racked up a credit card debt because she couldn’t bear to lose him?

  “That is the woman who’ll inherit your wealth? Do you know what the jackals will do to her?”

  “Which is why I want to ensure her well-being. If I died tomorrow, Pia would be all alone in the world.”

  “And so you have advertised her to all of Milan with the size of her inheritance hanging around her neck like a bloody flashing neon sign. By tomorrow morning, the vultures will be circling, determined to get their hands on Pia.”

  “I didn’t advertise her, Raphael.” A shadow of pain crossed Gio’s usually animated features. “I celebrated her presence in my life. After years of wondering about Lucia, I finally have someone to call my own. I want to give her everything she could ever want. I want to cherish her, pamper her, protect her.

  “That child is... Her innocence, there’s something so fragile about her.