He was talking in riddles. Although she had hoped the painting would bring something to light about her father’s past, Vitali's reaction was impossible to read, and hinted at the complexity of the issues involved. Something highly important. Somehow she had to keep provoking him to do the talking.
‘My name is Spencer. I was legally adopted by my mother’s second husband. But my real father was Ted Carr.’ The solemnity of her tone, drew Vitali’s eyes to her. She gave him a flat smile. ‘I’m not averse to getting everything settled tonight,’ she said lightly. It would suit me very well to resolve it for eternity.’
‘Then perhaps we’re thinking along the same lines.’
‘Mmm…perhaps,’ she said non-committedly, then with cool deliberation she moved her gaze to the paintings on the wall behind him.
‘You have a fine taste in art,’ she commented, noticing with interest that they all appeared to portray the Central Otago region of New Zealand. But not one of them was a portrait. She felt a little stab of disappointment. Perhaps it was true, the only reason he wanted the portrait was to diversify and add Lost Love, with the woman’s face embedded in the rocks, to his collection of South Island landscapes.
She knew only too well the compulsive power of passion and obsessiveness. Her own passion to know who she really was, and her obsessive quest to discover the truth had lead her on this mad chase across the world. Alex could think of nothing she wouldn’t do to get what she wanted. She sensed Vitali was the same. What he wanted he purchased. He’d said so himself.
‘Are they yours? Or do you rent them?’ she asked. When he didn’t answer she turned her gaze back to him, one eyebrow lifted enquiringly. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility, but she doubted that he was like her mother’s New York friends who cared more about the pretence of claiming to own the works, than the value of the paintings themselves. She wanted to see if her provocation would stir an uncontrolled response.
His green eyes glittered at her in mocking appreciation.
She stirred a response all right, but it wasn’t what she had expected. He walked slowly towards her, each step testing her composure. In that heated moment Alex knew with paralyzing awareness what it felt to be an animal pinned by the innate power of another clearly intent on tasting all she had to offer.
She should have stepped back, run even, but she could not tear her eyes from his. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might explode. He may manipulate her to get what he wanted, but he wouldn’t threaten her physically, she reasoned frantically, gripping the stem of the champagne glass. That would be beneath his pride.
He stopped a bare half-pace away from her. His breath fanned her eyelids as he lifted his hand to her face in a gentle movement. He cradled her cheek into the warm hardness of his palm. He seemed inordinately aware of her—even the infinitesimal nod of her head as he spoke softly, his words almost as hypnotic as his actions.
‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’ve been through. I do.’ His softly spoken words were a million times more disturbing than the dangerous glint in his eyes. ‘I even have a certain grudging admiration for the way you’ve gone about luring me into your web. You’re a brilliant strategist, a determined opponent, an intelligent and beautiful woman. For these reasons I’m prepared to reach a compromise. There is always a compromise to be reached with people like you and me, isn’t there? Give us what we want and no one gets hurt, am I right?’
What was he talking about? Was he serious, or was he playing with her, intent on piercing her resolve by any means possible? Whatever he was hiding he clearly intended on using every means at his disposal to prevent the truth he held secret from being revealed. But what did it have to do with her? Alex stepped back. And, as if he read the scepticism that dampened the power he was exerting, the glitter in his eyes grew taunting.
‘Perhaps the compromise may be in both our interests,’ he said in a mocking challenge. There was a touch of steel in his voice now.
It was an act of sheer will-power to strip the passion from her voice and force it into an icy, crisp tone. ‘And what interests might these be, Mr. Rossi?’
‘To mix business with pleasure.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘You may wish to kiss me but I have absolutely no intention of kissing you back. I never mix business with pleasure,’ she said, swallowing back her nerves. Her mouth was as dry as sandpaper. She gulped down the rest of her champagne.
‘Really?’ He laughed, even though Alex saw nothing amusing in their situation. ‘You’re very difficult to read, Alexandra. And you’re self-restraint is admirable. I thought by now you might have tried to seduce me into some sort of confession, thrown your arms around my neck and tried to kiss me senseless, or perhaps feigned a dizzy spell in the hope that I might carry you to my bed. Clearly I will have to take the lead.’
The gall of the man. While she may have fantasized what it would be like to be taken by him, she would rather die than submit to his arrogant presumption.
He was tried to unsettle her. But has his eyes grew darker, she found the temptation of his sensuous lips inexplicably harder to resist. She fought to restrain a quiver of desire threatening to render her compliant.
‘As you’ve said, I’m a brilliant strategist, and I can honestly say that I’m afraid seducing you or throwing myself into your arms, never entered my mind,’ she lied.
The low laugh graveled from his throat as his firm fingertips grazed over her lips to her chin, leaving a trace of shivery sensation in their wake. Again, it took an enormous concentration of will-power for Alexandra to keep absolutely still. At least on the outside. She had no control whatsoever over the adrenaline lapping around her body.
Her stoic effort was rewarded by the admiration that crept into his eyes. She felt almost dizzy with exultation at this unconcealed evidence of respect in such a formidable opponent.
‘Perfecto,’ he said enigmatically as her eyes ran the length of her body as though he was appraising a fine filly he would lead to stud. ‘You’ll do just fine.’
She sensed she had won a victory, that he conceded something important, but what it was she had no idea. Nevertheless, the more morsels of information he fed her, the more intriguing and tantalizing the mystery became. Alex silently vowed not to give her position away, no matter what temptation he threw. All she had to do was wait, and eventually she would find out just what winning entailed.
‘You’ll do fine too,’ she said, trailing her gaze along the starkly moulded contours of his face. She hoped that matching his move would be met with further revelation.
Something decidedly untamed and dangerous lit his eyes for a fleeting second, sending her pulse soaring. ‘Let’s conclude the arrangements,’ he withdrew a pace and laced his fingers through hers, guiding her over to one of the black leather sofas arranged around a low glass coffee table. She glanced at the tray of hors-d’oeuvres, two very elegant glasses, and an embossed silver ice-bucket which was chilling a bottle of champagne. He said nothing until he had poured the wine and placed a glass in her hand.
‘To our relationship.’
‘To our relationship,’ she said, bringing her flute to meet his. Relieved that she had passed his little flirtation test, she sank into the couch and waited for him to finally tell her all she needed to know about the painting.
He waved an invitation for her to help herself to the aperitivo.
‘I trust you like oysters. I’ve had them flown up from Bluff especially. I prefer my food fresh.’
‘I love sea food.’ Alex murmured. She carefully pieced the oyster with a toothpick and lifted it to her mouth, wondering as she did whether Vitali had chosen them for their renown powers as an aphrodisiac.
He settled on the sofa opposite and sipped his glass of champagne, his eyes boring into her with unwavering intensity. ‘You are gambling, you know,’ he drawled. ‘I don’t believe I have any liability in this matter. It may not be worth your while to go on with what you have st
arted.’
Once again Alex didn’t know what he was talking about. ‘Mmmm…’ she murmured as the oyster slid down her throat. ‘I realize there are no guarantees, but if you don’t gamble you can’t be in to win, and I never bet more than I can afford to lose. I think we will find it’s worth both our whiles,’ she offered, hoping the comment fitted well enough.
‘Why not quit while you can—just walk away with a clear five million?’ he retorted.
Alex shook her head. ‘For one thing, I’m not a quitter. I play to win. Secondly, while for most people five million dollars is a dream, I can’t accept your money. There’s an issue of trust involved—a trust I mean to keep, however stupid it may appear to anyone else.’
‘It’s a commendable virtue,’ he said, his critical gaze softening. ‘The most important thing in life, certainly, is loyalty.’
Was he complimenting her again? It was easier to keep her distance when he was being an arrogant sod. ‘My word is important to me,’ Alex said, ‘and once given I never go back. Family is important to me. You don’t sell the jewels.’
‘How refreshingly sweet.’ His mouth took on a cynical twist. ‘Family is important to me also—I will do everything in my power to protect those important to me.’ Vitali’s distinctly hostile tone suggested swift, merciless retribution from those that trespassed against those close to him. Alex found herself wishing her man of steel was her protector.
Alex nodded her agreement.‘Fine,’ she said. ‘It seems once again we have reached a stalemate. You have something I want, and I have something you need. But I won’t propose. Not again. You can be the one to make the first move. I won’t leave you dangling in suspense. Propose,’ he said, ‘And I’ll accept. You have my word.’
Alex’s mind raced, searching for answers. She didn’t know what to propose. She couldn’t ask for more money—she’d already told him money wasn’t her motivation. What sort of proposition would it take to extract the truth from this man? She picked up her glass of champagne and sipped it as she mulled over the problem. The only solution to the impasse was not to propose anything at all.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his in a bold challenge. ‘I’m a feminist. You’re the man. You propose. And I’ll think about it.’
Her response seemed to take his breath away. ‘You’re very wilful,’ he bit out. ‘Are you always so singularly determined?’
‘In this particular matter, yes!’ Alex said confidently, hoping that whatever he intended to propose would be something within her influence to accept. She could raise some cash if she needed—assuming it was money he wanted from her. But why would someone so wealthy as Vitali Rossi possibility need anything from her? Perhaps her father had left debts. Debts Vitali intended to collect? None of it made sense.
The green eyes darkened to jade as he spent several fraught moments fiercely reassessing her. ‘You will take no other settlement?’
‘None!’ She declared, feeling a heady recklessness with this mad game of feeding him cryptic lines.
He stared at her as if he couldn’t quite believe her stance. Alex put down her glass and selected a small piece of bruschetta topped with crabmeat from the tray. She ate it with relish. Being with Vitali Rossi sharpen all her senses, heightening her appetite.
‘You do realize what you’ll be giving up?’ he demanded. His dark brows lowered in a heavy frown as though weighted by some terrible sense of foreboding.
She smiled, forcing back her uncertainty. ‘I’ve thought everything through. It’s what I want. All I’ve ever wanted,’ she replied, not having any clue about what he was proposing, but feeling deep in her gut that any moment now would he would reveal would fill the huge void of her past with glittering light on her future.
She watched with cautious amusement as he rose to his feet, his powerful body emanating ruthless purpose. What on earth was he going to propose and why was he taking it all so seriously? She watched as he paced the length of the windows. He was worried about something. Alex whimsically decided that ignorance was bliss in this instance.
‘Che cavolo!’ He ran a jerky hand through his hair as though erasing a memory. ‘And that’s your final decision?’
‘It seems that way.’ She was getting quite good at this double-talk. It was now sliding right off the top of her head. She took another drink to show how relaxed she was and eased back across the couch. When his proposal came it was sure to be outstanding. Finally, she would have what she wanted.
‘Prego. That’s settled then. It’s not ideal, but I had prepared for the worst-case scenario.’ He didn’t blink as his eyes probed her for some crack in her façade. She gazed back at him without batting one mascaraed eyelash.
‘I thought you would have taken the money and run,’ he said testily.
Alex shook her head, using silence as a prod for more elaboration.
He compressed his lips into a tight smile. ‘It saves on litigation…and does away with any adverse publicity,’ he muttered, as though convincing himself. ‘And then there’s the other matter—’
Alex kept silent, turning his words over in her mind, she wondered what legal action he thought she might have against him. She was quite certain they weren’t talking about the painting any more. Maybe her father had once had a legal claim against him. He might also have a moral claim on his gold mine—that would explain Vitali’s reaction. Either way, he was foreseeing bad publicity if she fought him in the courts.
In her present state of ignorance Alex knew she didn’t have a hope of winning anything, but there was no doubt Vitali was taking the matter very, very seriously. The five million was testament to that.
‘Are you fertile?’
Alex nearly spurted the champagne all over herself in a gigantic spray of shock.
‘I don’t think I could stand it if you were infertile—or frigid,’ he said, watching as she brushed droplets of champagne from her chest.
Fertile? Frigid? ‘What the heck does my womb or my sexuality have to do with anything?’ She was right in her assessment of Italian men. They were uncouth. ‘In my limited experience I can testify that were there to be any claims of frigidity it would be the fault of the man who failed to arouse my passions.’
She should have put him in his place but the words slipped out before Alex could catch them back. She had been so preoccupied with trying to figure out the situation that she had made an automatic response without stopping to analyze why Vitali had even asked such a question. She stared incomprehensibly at him.
‘You’ve played Ice Queen all the way to this position,’ he said grimly. ‘So before we conclude this contract some due diligence and disclosure is required.’
Alex was still struggling to understand as he stepped around the table, took the glass of champagne from her hand, set it down, and pulled her up from the sofa. Whatever he believed she most definitely didn’t feel the least bit frigid as he drew her slowly into an embrace that made her overwhelmingly aware of his hard masculinity. Heat raced around her veins. And when he bent his head to claim her lips with his, they quivered with an electric response.
He began a very controlled sensual claim on her mouth which Alex found too intoxicating to resist. As much as mixing business with pleasure might weaken her position—whatever that was —she had been wondering all day what it might feel like to kiss Vitali Rossi and she was not about to pass up the opportunity to find out.
In a limited way, of course. She forced herself not to dwell on what he might be like as a lover. She slid her arms up around his neck, deliberately encouraging a deepening of the kiss. Whether he was surprised by her initiative or not, he took immediate advantage of it. Alex didn’t quite know what it was that triggered pleasant excitement into something else, but there was no more testing or conscious deliberation.
Something exploded between them—a voracious desire for more and more sensation…possession…wild erotic intimacy until there could be no separation.
But the separation when it came was bru
tally swift. Vitali wrenched his mouth from hers and threw back his head, his neck muscles so taunt she thought they’d snap.
She felt hurt, bewildered that he should want to end what had been happening between them. It had been the most sensational experience in her life, and her body craved for it to continue.
Her breasts were pressed so hard against him, they were deeply sensitive to the quick rise and fall of his chest. A fierce elation ran through her as she belatedly registered the unmistakable pressure of male desire against the softness of her stomach.
He was not unaffected by her! He was fighting for control!
The realization gave Alex an exhilarating sense of power. There was no way he could deny his reaction to her, so there was no triumph to be gleaned from her response to him. When he dropped his gaze to hers, she met it with a fearless pride that ceded nothing.
There was a guarded look in his eyes as he assessed the expression in hers. His mouth quirked in amused appreciation of her challenge. ‘Well, your mind might be an ice-trap, but your body is all fiery woman.’
‘I’m surprised you doubted it,’ she retorted mockingly, summoning more confidence than she felt. ‘But it’s always reassuring to hear. And I’m delighted to confirm my appreciation of your own manhood has been most whole-heartedly affirmed.’
His low, throaty laugh denied any embarrassment over the proof of his virility. ‘Consider the matter settled. We will marry and you will bear my child.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
Marry?!
Blood drained from Alex's face. Her mind dived through all the conversations they’d had in a frantic grasp for enlightenment.
The Italian Billionaire’s Scandalous Marriage: An Italian Billionaire Romance (Italian Billionaire Christmas Brides Book 2) Page 7