Calia pushed aside her own incongruously acute disappointment. “’Adversaries’? Well, I suppose that’s better than ‘enemies’.”
He gave her a brief glance, before returning his gaze to them. “It is just business. I am sorry, tesoro mio, but I suppose this will not be put off. I will try to make it short.”
She nodded. “Of course.” She turned so that she stood beside Gio and was able to follow the line of his gaze, finally picking out two men who were making their way through the crowd. “Are these the men you’ll be negotiating with this week, about that French holding?”
He nodded, but before he had a chance to say anything, the men were upon them.
“Ah, signore—I was not certain you had heard me calling. It can be so difficult to make anything out with all these crowds.”
“Too true.” Gio smiled politely at the two businessmen. Watching him, Calia would never have guessed that this was the same man who, moments before, had pushed her to the edge of her own resistance and beyond.
Nor had she figured out how she felt about that. Physically—sexually—he was the most exciting man she had ever encountered.
Given that she had left her comfortable job—and her comfortable relationship with Dave—because she had realised she didn’t want to live her life haunted by might-have-beens, she now began to wonder if walking away from this opportunity with Gio would become one of those regrets. She didn’t want to look back in forty years with the knowledge that she had shortchanged herself because she had been afraid to take a few risks.
The problem was, she couldn’t figure out what she would regret more: walking away from the opportunity of a no-strings encounter with a man who drove her wild with desire, or having that potentially mindblowing sex with a man so blinded by his assumptions about women that he couldn’t bring himself to look beyond them, at the person she was.
“Calia?”
With a shake of her head, Calia realised that the conversation between the three men had continued while she had been lost in her contemplations. “Sorry.” She smiled at the three of them. “I must be more tired than I thought.”
“Please, think nothing of it.” The man who spoke looked to be in his mid-fifties, slight and elegant in his well-cut slacks and shirt. Gio introduced him as Yann Sorvignac, the CEO of the company whose subsidiary was the subject of the upcoming negotiations.
“Enchanté.” Instead of shaking her hand, Sorvignac grasped her fingers and bowed over them with compact grace. He glanced up, and Calia had to smile at the admiring inquiry in his eyes. The man was clearly a shameless flirt. “It is a pleasure to bask in such beauty as yours, madame.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sorvignac. You’re too kind.” Calia darted a laughing glance at Gio, fully expecting him to share in the humour of Sorvignac’s extravagant manner. To her surprise, however, he watched the interchange with a coolly imperturbable expression.
“Ah, but I am not being kind at all, madame—or is it mademoiselle? I can perfectly understand why Signore Diamanti is watching me with the daggers in his eyes.”
The fellow who accompanied Sorvignac was balding and looked about ten years younger. He was introduced as Jean Marron.
They both spoke in French-accented English. As the three men conversed, Calia wondered if Gio really didn’t speak French or whether he had declined to use a language that would give his opponents such a clear advantage.
Sorvignac smiled. “I am glad that you were able to make it out to this little soirée, Signore Diamanti. Though, given the charming company you are keeping, our presence must certainly be… how do you say… de trop.” He inclined his head at Calia.
“I believe the expression is ‘three is a crowd’,” Marron supplied.
“C’est ça.”
Gio smiled coolly. “Not at all.”
Calia found her attention straying from the conversation. She was too aware of Gio’s presence—and of how close she had come to shedding all restraint with him moments ago. Even now, her body felt deprived of its reward. Her nipples were painfully sensitized as they rubbed against the fabric of her bra, and the moist heat between her legs demanded restitution for its eager response to Gio’s practiced seduction.
If this was how she felt now, how was she ever going to manage to resist him once they were alone together? And, more to the point, did she really want to? Somehow, her principles seemed to play a distant second to the overwhelming chorus of her body’s demands as soon as Gio entered the scene.
And yet, when she glanced over at him, he seemed completely composed. He was all cool professionalism with the two men, apparently able to switch off his desire at a moment’s notice, Calia observed, with a blend of annoyance and admiration.
He was about to speak, when someone tapped him on the shoulder and murmured something in Italian. His expression darkened and he gave a curt nod. “You will excuse us, gentlemen?”
Once they had slipped away, Calia glanced at Gio. “What’s happened? Did you get some kind of bad news?”
“Do you remember how I said there would be trouble from Antonia this evening?”
“Ah. Right.”
“She is causing a scene.”
“What happened?”
“We are about to find out.”
Paolo had managed to maneuver Antonia out of the main reception area and into a side alcove, but as Calia and Gio approached, the raised voices were clearly audible, and had attracted the attention of a number of the other attendees. Though she couldn’t understand what was being said, Calia felt embarrassed on Paolo’s behalf as they joined the other couple.
Antonia was clearly the worse for drink, maintaining an unsteady balance as she shouted at her husband. Nor did Calia need an advanced grasp of Italian to guess that the other woman’s words were less than flattering. Paolo’s attempts to quell the outburst were none too successful.
Then, Antonia spotted Gio and her manner changed, becoming overtly flirtatious as she tottered over to him and draped herself on his arm. Calia might have been amused at the obvious distaste in Gio’s expression, had she not glanced at Paolo in that moment. He was watching Antonia with such an expression of longing that she felt another stab of sympathy for the man.
As Gio murmured something to Antonia and began leading her out of the reception, Paolo offered Calia his arm with a strained smile. “Gio has a way with her. I do not know how he does it, but he manages to calm her when no-one else can.”
Calia slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. They followed Gio and Antonia, as he guided her through the crowd and to the sidewalk outside. There, Gio paused, glancing at Paolo, who led them to where he had parked the car.
Once the surprisingly docile Antonia had been settled into the passenger seat, Paolo shook Gio’s hand. “Thank you, my friend.” His apologetic gaze included Calia as he continued, “She has her moods, you understand. I am sorry that she disrupted your evening.”
Gio’s expression was anything but forgiving. “She has responsibility for her own actions, Paolo. You have nothing to apologise for.” He glanced at the passenger seat. “She seems to have fallen asleep. Good. Get yourselves home safely, and I will see you tomorrow.”
Gio had already turned away, when Paolo’s voice stopped him.
“Gio. I know you do not think much of Antonia. Right now, I would even agree with you.” Paolo gave a tired shrug. “But I love her.”
Calia noted the tightening of Gio’s jaw as he drew in a slow breath, then turned and rested his hand on Paolo’s shoulder. “I know you do, amico mio. I know.” But his expression had softened as he took in the vulnerability in his friend’s expression. “Be safe and rest well tonight. I need you to be at your sharpest for the meeting tomorrow.”
Paolo nodded. “I will see you then.” He glanced at Calia. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Calia. I am sorry about…” He nodded towards the passenger seat.
Calia shook her head with a smile. “It’s all right, Paolo. Gio’s right. You have nothin
g to apologise for.”
“You are too kind. I hope we will meet again,” he added, with a significant glance at Gio, before heading over to the driver’s seat of the car.
They stood back and watched as his Ferrari disappeared amid the bustle of the Roman traffic.
Gio shook his head as he turned away, his expression bitter and tight. “And you wonder why I do not like women.”
Though she was tempted to protest, Calia made herself let it go. It was patently obvious that he was suffering for his friend, and she couldn’t help but respect that, no matter how misguided his hostility might be.
He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised and his mouth sneering. “What? No heated protests from the bra burner?”
She watched him solemnly. “I really think you should tell him the rest, about Antonia’s behaviour. I suspect he’s guessed most of it already—he just doesn’t want to believe it. But when it finally sinks in, he won’t thank you for holding out on him all this time.”
He ran a hand through is hair, his expression suddenly weary. “If he does not want to believe it, then he will not want to believe what I tell him, either. It is only if I manage to produce evidence that he might be able to accept the truth. I will not risk my friendship with him until I have something more compelling to show him—something that will penetrate the spell that woman has cast on him.”
Calia pursed her lips, not altogether happy with his reasoning. “He could just as easily feel ambushed when he finds out his best friend hired an investigator to spy on Antonia. I mean, isn’t it equally possible that he’s going to feel humiliated and betrayed when he finds out that you didn’t give him enough credit to think he’d accept your word?”
Gio sighed heavily as they walked back to the car. “I will only have one chance at this. And that woman is destroying him. I would rather that he be forced to believe me, regardless of what he wants, than risk that he will take her word over mine.”
They walked in silence a few moments. Then, Calia spoke, “So what’s the history between you and Antonia, anyway?”
He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “History?”
“Oh come on—I do have eyes, Gio. If you were just the most recent in a string of scalps for her belt, she’d just have moved on to someone else.”
“From what I understand, that’s exactly what she was trying to do tonight—and being a nuisance in the process by making blatant advances on one of Paolo’s and my married colleagues.”
“Now who’s being evasive? Gio, she went docile practically from the moment she saw you. You aren’t going to convince me that there’s no shared past between you.”
His jaw tightened. “Perhaps there is. But not what you’d think.”
“And what would I think?”
He ignored the question. “She is the daughter of one of my father’s colleagues. I have known her since she was about ten. She has always been spoiled, acquisitive and manipulative. Around the time she hit late adolescence, she decided she wanted me as her latest plaything.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t interested, and after one particularly unpleasant incident, she finally seemed to get the message. After that, her parents sent her off to live with some family in England.”
“So how did she end up with Paolo?”
“She came back to Italy a few years ago, and we’d run into each other, from time to time, but I continued to make it clear I had no interest in her. So, she turned her attentions to Paolo in the last year or so. I must admit that I had hoped she might have genuinely seen his fine qualities and come to appreciate them, since she played the doting female quite convincingly at first.” He shook his head, his mouth twisted into a contemptuous sneer. “But now, the whirlwind courtship and wedding are over and she’s started showing her true colours.”
“It sounds like she’s obsessed with you, Gio. It’s kind of sad, in a way.”
“What is this? Female solidarity?” he snarled.
“I know you’re angry, but don’t take it out on me, okay? I’m not saying that it excuses her.”
His profile was austere and unforgiving. “You are correct. Any sympathy I might have had for her disappeared when she started playing her manipulative little games with my best friend and tying him up in knots. Paolo is a brother to me. He deserves better.”
“No argument there.”
They came to a stop in front of Gio’s car and he inclined his head towards her. “What a relief that we are in concurrence.” He spoke with an edge of disdain, before opening the door for her with an ironic flourish.
Calia narrowed her eyes at him. “The only thing I don’t get is why Antonia would pick such an insufferable boor to be obsessed with in the first place,” she said, before sliding into the passenger seat.
“I do not presume to understand the perverse complexities of the female mind,” was his reply. He slammed the door before Calia could formulate an appropriate rebuttal.
As he settled into his seat and started the car, Calia let out a hard breath. The man was driving her mad.
She watched him as he negotiated the bustling streets. “Why do you do that?”
He frowned. “Do what?”
“Make nasty, sexist comments all the time?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You are very easy to provoke. Sometimes I cannot resist.”
“So you don’t really believe all that stuff?”
“I did not say that. But I will confess I am not usually so blunt in stating my views.”
She let out a puff of breath. “I see. Well, for the record, I get it. You don’t trust women—and nothing I say is going to change your mind. You figure we’re good for one thing and one thing only.”
He grinned. “You do me a disservice, Calia—it is simply not true. Women are good for many things. Having babies, keeping house, cooking…”
Calia rolled her eyes as a smile tugged at her own lips. “Heaven spare me. Okay, so you’re provoking me, but I have a creepy suspicion you actually believe what you’re saying.” She shook her head. “I have the deepest sympathy for whatever woman you eventually condescend to marry—for dynastic purposes, no doubt.”
“Why else?” He shrugged. “You can hardly expect I’d do it for the companionship. But I have no plans to marry for some time yet. I have decided to wait as long as possible before burdening myself with a spouse.”
“At which point you’ll marry some docile girl who’ll be content with whatever crumbs you throw her way when you get around to remembering you have a wife.”
“I intend to marry a woman who knows her place, if that’s what you are trying to say.”
“A woman who knows to call your secretary and make an appointment when she’s fertile, so all that stuff can be conducted in the most expedient manner possible.”
He laughed. “What an excellent idea. I shall have to remember that.”
But despite the facetious tone of their banter, Calia couldn’t help visualizing the kind of marriage he was describing. Something distant, cold and probably very lonely, with two people inhabiting the same spaces, while never really being together at all.
“All joking aside though, Gio, that’s kind of sad. I mean, I think you have a lot to offer a woman and it would be a pity for all that to go to waste or be sublimated into your work.”
“Do not worry yourself about my future wife, Calia. She will have no reason to complain. She will have full access to all that I have to offer—the houses, the assets and the funds. Within reason, of course.”
“That’s not what I meant, as I’m sure you know. You can’t think much of yourself if you believe a woman would only marry you for your money.”
“Your naïveté is touching, but misguided.”
She groaned and threw up her hands. “I give up, all right? Happy, now? And I can only hope that whatever poor girl you do decide to marry will be content with that and won’t do anything crazy like—oh, I don’t know, fall in love with you or something.”
He gave a mock shudder
. “Heaven forbid.”
They drove in silence. Then, “So why the solicitude about my future wife?”
“What you’re describing just seems very bleak, that’s all.”
“And what of you? You claim to have no plans to marry at all.”
She shrugged. “Well, not for a while, at least. I want to have kids someday and if I find a man whom I can love, then I’ve got no objection to doing the family thing with him.”
“Am I to infer that you plan to have children, regardless?”
She nodded. “Not for a while. But definitely once I’m established. It won’t be easy, but I’m fine with that. I’d rather that, than relinquish my independence to some guy I don’t love or respect, just for the sake of the children he could give me.” She noted his sardonic expression and grinned. “And no, I’m not trying to make a point about your notions of matrimony. It’s just the way I happen to feel.”
“So do you plan to trick some hapless fool into fathering your children if you don’t find an appropriate male within the right timeline?”
“I do not,” Calia retorted with firm dignity. “Contrary to what you think about honesty and women, I tend to prefer the open approach to communication. I’d make sure the father knew what I was about, and was comfortable with it. And if he wanted to be part of the parenting process, I’d be open to that as well. I think positive role models of both genders are important for a child.”
“Do you?”
She bristled at his indulgent tone. She gave him a saccharine smile. “And you’d be a perfect example of why. Your views of women are unhealthy and destructive. I can only imagine it’s because of a lack of positive role models in your past.”
“May the Lord protect me from self-righteous women.”
“You know, I somehow suspect he has. That’s part of the problem.”
“Not as I see it.” He glanced at her briefly, before returning his attention to the road. “Are you always this insufferable?”
She laughed. “Watch it, Gio. You might hurt my feelings.”
Her Roman Holiday Page 6