The Flaw in Raffaele's Revenge (Harlequin Presents)

by Annie West

  Interesting.

  And far more convenient to concentrate on her reaction than his own.

  Raffa angled the screen to see it better. ‘Consumer buying patterns in Brisbane? What’s that got to do with Bradshaw? I wasn’t aware he had interests there.’

  ‘He doesn’t.’ The screen was pulled from his grip and closed. ‘This work isn’t for you.’

  ‘You’re moonlighting?’ She was so close he inhaled that delicate scent he’d noticed before. Subtle yet sweet. It reminded him of crisp, cool days and...pears? That was it—ripe, luscious pears.

  She shifted away, further down the lounge seat. Did she somehow register the abrupt spike of adrenaline flooding his bloodstream? The sharpening of his senses now she was within touching distance.

  Raffa applauded her good sense in moving.

  Yet he grabbed another chair and hauled it over, sitting so he faced her, knee to knee.

  Playing safe had never been his style.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LILY FOLDED THE laptop on her knees as if it might protect her from his keen gaze.

  She felt vulnerable out here, away from the office. Away from her clothes! With that thought her nipples tightened into needy pebbles against the cotton of her sleep top.

  How long before her body stopped responding to this man as a virile, spectacular male? She longed for the day she could relegate him to a mere colleague like the ones she worked with daily. The ones who, to her surprise, were becoming friends.

  Lily swallowed a groan. Caught half naked by Raffaele Petri. Thankfully he hadn’t turned on the lights.

  Not that he needed lights. The moon was bright. Enough for her to have difficulty keeping her gaze off the tantalising V of skin revealed by his partly unbuttoned shirt. The combination of formal clothes and rumpled hair, bare feet and open shirt made him look even more potently masculine than usual. Every nerve centre relayed shock waves of pleasure at the sight.

  How could her body betray her so?

  ‘Moonlighting implies I’m going behind your back,’ she snapped, stress tightening her vocal chords. ‘That I’m cutting corners on my work for you. That’s not so.’ Better to focus on that than her body’s tingling excitement.

  ‘So what are you doing?’

  She drew a deep breath, marshalling her thoughts, and was surprised to intercept a flicker of movement as his gaze dropped to her chest. Instantly her nipples budded tighter as if trying to push closer to him.

  Lily told herself it was a reaction to the breeze.

  ‘I told you I had responsibilities that meant I couldn’t come to New York, but you forced my hand. This—’ she waved a hand at the laptop ‘—is one of them. A job for a business looking to expand in Brisbane. I was checking a draft report from my assistant.’

  ‘Assistant? I thought you worked alone?’

  Once more Lily was unsettled that Raffaele Petri had taken time to learn about her.

  ‘I recently expanded my business. There’s a good market for high-quality research.’ He said nothing and she felt compelled to fill the silence. ‘I’m not cutting corners on your work. I’m doing this in my own time.’

  ‘At midnight? That’s no way to run a business.’

  It stung that he of all people should lecture on her gruelling work schedule. As if her exhaustion didn’t remind her every day when she dragged herself out of bed, almost drip-feeding coffee to keep going.

  ‘You think I don’t know that?’ She shook her head, finally breaking free of his gaze and turning to look over the diamond-sprinkled velvet of the city at night. Even now, with Raffaele Petri evoking desires she had no business feeling, she couldn’t quite get over the fact she was here, in New York, the city she’d never believed she’d visit. What wouldn’t she give for a chance to explore? To wander and be part of the anonymous crowd? Yet, despite her growing ease with her colleagues, that was a step too far.

  ‘I don’t have a choice. Not since I was blackmailed into coming here despite my other work commitments.’

  ‘That’s why you were reluctant to leave? Not because of a man?’

  Lily almost snorted in derision. A man? That was a laugh. There’d been no men in her life. They weren’t exactly lining up outside her door, besotted by her looks and charm. Not even when she’d been fourteen and fresh-faced had she been that popular with boys. She’d been too ordinary, too easily overlooked. And later she was noticed for the wrong reasons. She’d learned the hard way not to confuse sympathy for interest.

  ‘Several men, actually.’ She watched, surprised, as he stiffened. Was it imagination or did his eyes narrow? ‘That retailer in Brisbane. The HR manager of a security firm wanting checks on potential staff. The head of a planning authority—’

  ‘Clients, you mean.’

  ‘Yes. And all important. Which is why I use my spare time working for them.’

  ‘But none are as important as me.’

  True. None had the same power to make or break her business.

  ‘All my clients are important. They expect results and I’d already promised to deliver. I don’t take on work I can’t complete to the best possible standard.’

  ‘Even if the projects bring in a pittance compared with what you’re doing for me?’

  Lily tried not to grind her teeth. Good thing he was so arrogant. It would counteract this powerful attraction.

  Shame it hadn’t worked yet.

  ‘You’d be surprised. Some of my clients even rival you.’ She’d recently done work for a man who could reasonably be called Raffaele Petri’s rival. Luca De Laurentis was another entrepreneur providing vacation services to the rich. ‘For my business to expand it makes sense to cultivate as many sources of income as possible.’

  Slowly—perhaps reluctantly?—he nodded.

  ‘When you say expand, what do you mean? There’s only so much you can do, even if you go without sleep.’

  ‘Is it so hard to take me seriously as a businesswoman? To see me as an employer?’ Umbrage thickened her voice. Her work, her professional success, meant everything. They were all she had. She’d long ago realised she’d never have a family of her own.

  He shook his head. ‘You’re the most serious-minded person I know, Lily.’ Inevitably there it was again, the tiny thrill of delight as he turned her name into something exotic with that mellow voice and mouthwatering accent. ‘It’s just that you obviously prefer to work alone.’

  ‘You mean I’m not a team player?’ She read criticism in his words.

  ‘No, not that. I’ve seen how meticulous you are about sharing information, making sure everyone’s up-to-date. More that you prefer to be alone.’

  Lily swallowed, her throat tight. He was right. Over the years she’d developed a taste for her own company. Surely he could understand that.

  Or maybe not. People stared at him all the time, but it was in admiration, not horror at how he looked.

  ‘Well, you’ll be interested to know I employ two other people.’ Albeit part-time, and both still learning the ropes. But for Lily this was a major step forward.

  ‘Why?’

  She frowned. Hadn’t he listened? ‘You said yourself there’s a limit to the work I can do alone.’

  ‘Why expand? Why build up a company rather than accept a permanent job here, for instance?’ His voice resonated with genuine curiosity.

  Lily stared into that gorgeous fallen-angel face. No one else, not her family or friends or even her bank manager, had bothered to ask.

  Something faltered inside her. She found herself on her feet, staring at the beautifully lit pool. Yet she couldn’t distract herself from stirring disquiet. Her heart thumped high in her chest and she knew it was because his interest made a difference. What he thought mattered.

  Despite their differences she respected him—his business acumen, his drive, even his sometimes brutal honesty. And the fact he’d never once seemed fazed by her looks. He treated her not as scarred Lily Nolan but, she realised in shock, as someo
ne strong enough to stand up to him. As an equal, despite their imbalance of power.

  She should end this conversation. It bordered on the intimate. Yet their isolation in this moon-washed garden and the sense of familiarity made it seem almost normal.

  It struck her how far she’d cut herself off from those who cared about her. In Australia she’d crossed a continent to get away from her family’s loving but claustrophobic over-protectiveness, moving from Fremantle, on the west coast, to the east. Since then she’d focused on work. She had no bosom buddy, no confidante. No one close to share her hopes and dreams.

  ‘I want to build something for myself.’ The words tumbled out.

  To her surprise he nodded. Only a tiny inclination of the head but it seemed to bridge the distance between them.

  ‘I want...’ How did she put it into words? ‘Security, the safety that comes from success, but more too. I want...’

  ‘Recognition.’

  Lily’s eyes widened. ‘How did you know?’

  His shoulders lifted and her gaze slid across that wide, straight expanse of powerful muscle and bone. ‘It sounds familiar.’

  ‘You?’ It didn’t seem possible. ‘But you already had recognition before you started your business.’

  His lips curved in what should have been a smile.

  ‘To be recognisable as a face, or a body, plastered across the media in advertising campaigns isn’t quite the same as genuine recognition.’

  ‘Recognition for your achievements, you mean?’

  Again that nod.

  Was it naive to admit she’d never thought of the difference before? Raffaele Petri’s phenomenal media presence had seemed the epitome of success. To be so watched, adored and admired...

  It was as if he’d read her mind. ‘Being known because of how you look isn’t an achievement.’ His eyes held hers and phantom heat washed her scarred face. ‘Being someone because of your actions, your success, is something else.’

  Understanding stretched between them. An understanding she’d never before shared. It felt momentous. Lily sank back onto her seat, watching him avidly.

  ‘Is that what drove you to build your business? The need to make your mark?’ She admired him for that. It would have been easy to continue modelling. To move from that field where he was in such demand and strike out on his own must have taken grit as well as talent.

  ‘Maybe. I wanted to take charge of my future. That’s hard when you’re dependent on the whims of advertisers and fashion gurus, likely to be out of style next year because they’re hungry for a new face.’

  She blinked, astounded that he shared such information. He wasn’t a touchy-feely sort of guy. She’d seen him affable and relaxed but he could as easily intimidate with a look.

  Was he too affected by the intimacy of the half-darkness, high above the city?

  ‘I can’t imagine you out of modelling work for long.’ It wasn’t just his staggering good looks. He had a magnetism Lily couldn’t resist, no matter how she tried. And she’d tried. For over a month she’d fought the compulsion to watch him.

  He laughed, the sound a soft ripple skating along her bare arms. ‘It’s a cutthroat business. Don’t let the gloss fool you.’

  ‘So you took to real estate as a safety net?’ That was how he’d started his enterprise.

  ‘You could say that. I was determined to make myself safe.’

  ‘Safe?’

  Again that quirk of the lips that should have been a smile, but which felt, in the dimness, like something else.

  ‘I was born poor. It takes a lot of money to stop worrying you’ll lose everything and end up in the gutter again.’

  Lily nodded. She knew he didn’t come from money. But the gutter? Was that just a figure of speech?

  ‘Building my business meant I could choose my direction, doing things the way I want, not dependent on others.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’

  He sat back, and even in the semi-darkness she felt his piercing regard.

  Lily held her breath, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t. He looked perfectly relaxed, watching her. But he sat closer than in any meeting. There was nothing between them except a few scant inches of space.

  Abruptly the elusive feeling of companionship dissipated.

  The silence grew and Lily’s lungs tightened with the effort to breathe normally, not gulp down huge draughts of warm air, scented with that man and spicy deliciousness she’d come to associate with him.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ she burst out when she couldn’t bear the silence.

  His mouth quirked up again and this time she spied amusement. ‘I’m thinking how similar we are.’

  He had to be kidding! They were galaxies apart.

  ‘We’re both loners.’ He ticked the point off one finger. Lily watched, fascinated that he lumped himself with her there. Raffaele Petri was always surrounded by people. In the office he was the hub around which everyone revolved, eager to meet his needs. She’d seen enough media reports to know that out of the office he was surrounded by glamorous, beautiful people, drawing them like a magnet.

  But how many is he close to?

  The question had never occurred to her before.

  ‘We both want the security of success.’ Another tick. ‘We both want to make our mark, rather than have the world judge us on how we look.’

  Lily sucked in her cheeks on a hiss of shock, blinking at those knowing eyes. She’d never mentioned the problem she’d had since her teens—of people not seeing her, just her scarred face.

  It stunned her that he’d picked up on that.

  Why had she thought he wouldn’t get it? Because he wasn’t interested in anyone but himself? Yet he’d continually surprised her with what he knew about her.

  Because he was so handsome?

  For the first time it struck her that he carried a burden too—far easier, of course, since his looks must have opened doors. In a weird way they were linked—judged by people because of their faces—his utterly gorgeous and hers downright ugly.

  Slowly Lily released her breath, and with it some of the tautness in her shoulders and neck.

  She nodded. He’d put into words something she’d never admitted. That she still fought to be judged as someone other than the woman with the appallingly scarred face.

  That was why, until now, she’d enjoyed working from home instead of in someone else’s office. When people couldn’t see her they treated her like anyone else—no pity or sneaking stares or embarrassment.

  Working here in New York was the first time in years she’d begun to relax with others. Were the people here remarkable or did her hard-won confidence in her work mean she was less concerned with their initial reaction? Whatever the cause, she felt more relaxed and accepted than she’d expected. It irked to admit it but her forced move had been good for her.

  ‘We’ve both set up our own businesses too. That’s another point in common.’ It didn’t matter that his was a multinational empire and hers a fledgling company carrying brand-new debt. The principle was the same. ‘Did your previous career help you get started?’

  His laugh was short. ‘Not in the beginning. I wasn’t taken seriously. I was a face, not a businessman. No one understood how single-minded I’d had to be to get where I was.’

  ‘I suppose people think modelling is easy.’ She had.

  ‘Modelling?’ He shifted in his seat, his head swinging up, and she had a curious feeling she’d missed something. ‘Let’s just say I paid my dues to climb out of the hole where I started life.’ His face hardened. ‘Getting investors to trust me with their assets was tough. Everyone expected me to fail.’

  ‘But you didn’t.’

  ‘In the beginning, when I needed advice and investors, no one would touch me. Later it was different. People wanted a part of what I’d built, but by then I was used to working alone.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe being forced to go solo was a good thing. It made me more determined to succeed and learn
from my mistakes.’

  ‘Did you make many? Mistakes?’ Lily leaned forward, her hands clasped between her knees.

  ‘Plenty. I had money, I’d been careful about saving, but I overextended myself with a project that ran into problems. It was touch-and-go for a while.’

  Lily knew the feeling. ‘But you succeeded.’ Fervently she hoped she could too.

  He lifted one hand, palm up, in a gesture that seemed wholly Italian. ‘It was the only option I’d accept.’

  Didn’t that say it all? Raffaele Petri was a man who, as Pete said, made it his policy always to get what he wanted. Did she have the same determination to succeed?

  ‘You make it sound easy.’

  ‘Not easy. Straightforward. I refused to accept failure. I did whatever it took to succeed.’

  Could she do that? She was trying. How hard she was trying!

  Perhaps it was ridiculous to take solace from the example of the man who’d disrupted her plans, the one forcing her to work twice as hard as usual just to keep on top of her obligations. Yet she felt buoyed.

  ‘Have you considered narrowing your market?’ His query dragged her out of her reverie.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Your market. It seems very broad. You’re doing personnel security checks. You’ve taken a job for a small business plus some project for a planning authority. Then there’s your work for me, which is in a different ballpark. I’m asking if you need to specialise and become the best at what you do instead of being all things to all people.’

  Lily surveyed him with surprise. Instead of anger that she wasn’t devoting all her efforts to his project, he was interested in her business? Offering advice? It was too good an opportunity to ignore.

  ‘Specialising would cut off some lucrative income.’ Like those security checks she didn’t particularly enjoy.

  ‘Lucrative long-term or short-term?’

  She hadn’t thought about it like that. ‘Lucrative enough to pay the bills while I build my name in the areas I want.’

  ‘And do you have a plan for the transition from doing everything to doing only what you want as your core business?’