The Playboy's Fugitive Bride (11 page)

She dropped her gaze to the floor, just as she’d done yesterday when he asked her the same question.

“I’m positive, Massimo.  We have never met,” she said raising her head to smile at him wide-eyed.

Little liar
, he thought on a smile.  They had met before.  It was up to him to find out where and when.  As he gazed at her, he realized there was only one possibility.  He had to have met her just before he set out for Kenya to scatter his father’s remains in the Serengeti.  He wondered if she knew she talked in her sleep.  She’d been tossing and mumbling during the early hours of dawn, but he’d been too tired to make sense out of her nonsense.  He smiled inside, deciding to keep that bit of knowledge to himself.  He might be able to coax the truth out of her tonight.

“Our breakfast is getting cold,” she said, her eyes twinkling with eagerness.  “We should go eat.  It smells delicious.”

You smell delicious
.  Massimo had a long day ahead of him, starting with an international satellite conference in a couple of hours.  He placed his hand on the small of Nia’s back and steered her into the direction of the dining room.  Bliss crept through him.  He faltered at the unexpected emotion.

In less than twenty-four hours, Nia Sylk had managed to spin her silken threads around his head.  Now that he knew she was not involved with Luciano’s bastard son and that she was who she said she was, and even though he was certain there was a lot more Nia wasn’t telling him, his thoughts about her were nevertheless heading in a different direction.

He just had to be careful that her silken threads didn’t extend to his heart.

Nia pulled the wool dress from the hanger and slid it over her head.  She wrapped the belt around her waist, tied it in the front, and stared at her reflection in the trifold mirror.

It was almost one o’clock, and she hadn’t completed one single task on her list.

Since Massimo’s international satellite conference was postponed until midafternoon he’d insisted on accompanying her to Joanne’s Boutique after they picked up her new Mercedes. To make matters worse, she had that stupid spa appointment at two-thirty.

During breakfast, Massimo had told her that the charity event was to begin at seven, but that he’d arranged for her to meet his cousin, Adam, and friends, Bryce and Erik at the country club for drinks at six.  Afterwards, they would drive across town to the Fontaine Conference Center where she would meet Bryce’s wife, Kaya, and Erik’s wife, Michelle.

That didn’t give her much time to take care of her business, keep her spa appointments, go back to the mansion, and get dressed in time to drive to the country club.

Her planning time was getting shorter and shorter, Nia thought with a frustrated twist of her lips.  First from one month to one week, then from two days to one, since she wasn’t sure what time Massimo would give her the money tomorrow.  From the way things looked, once she left Granite Falls, she’d have to stay in Miami until Tuesday, at least.  Since she would be boarding the cruise ship under a different name, she had to get all of Nia Sylk’s personal business taken care of before she left the country.

“I have to get to work, Nia.”

“You didn’t have to come with me, Massimo.  I’m quite capable of picking out my own clothes.  I’ve been doing it since I was twelve.”  The memory of losing her mother at that early age caused her heart to skip a beat. 

“I’m sure you are capable, but I know what I want to see on you, pussycat.”

Nia opened the door.  “Stop calling me pussycat, especially in public.”  She fought her body’s reaction to his mesmeric lure.

“Then stop hissing like one.  Besides, we’re all alone.”

That was true.  The man had so much clout he’d requested absolute privacy and ordered the store closed to the public while Nia tried on her new wardrobe.

“Come on, let’s see it.”

Nia stepped from the seclusion of the dressing stall and into the waiting lounge.  “What?” she asked at the scowl on Massimo’s face.

“I don’t care for it.  It makes you look… drab—like a nineteenth-century schoolteacher.

“I
am
a schoolteacher,” Nia quipped, hands on hips.  “
I
like it.” 
Just because you don’t
. The color was all wrong for her.  The puffed shoulders, long sleeves, and turtleneck did make her look drab.  One thing she could say about him was that he had a good eye for fashion.  She wondered if his women always looked as if they stepped off a Milan runway because he dressed them himself.

She watched, transfixed, as Massimo began stroking his lower lip with the pad of his thumb.  It was a seductive habit that made her blood heat up under her skin each time he did it.  She felt every stroke, every caress deep in the recess of her being.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, walking over to her.  “If you agree to take the red silk one you refused earlier, I’ll let you keep this ghastly-looking thing.”

The red silk one could hardly be called a dress.  It was strapless, backless, revealed just a tad too much cleavage for her comfort, and it clung to her like a second skin.  She would not be caught dead in that iniquitous garb.  “Well, I don’t like it that much,” she told him.

“What a pity.  Think of the lover’s squabble we’ll have when I request that you wear the red one to dinner and you decide on this instead.  It would be interesting to see what happens when I order you to take it off at the dinner table.”

“Fine.  I’ll keep them both.”  Not wishing to waste anymore time arguing with him, she ripped off the belt and threw it at him.  She wouldn’t be here long enough to wear either one of them, anyway.  Let him eat that for dinner.

Massimo chuckled as she disappeared back into the dressing stall.  He picked up the belt from the floor and tucked it into the pocket of his slacks.  Images of Nia spread-eagle on his bed with her arms tethered to the bedpost by the strip of wool sent a delicious shudder ripping through his gut.

He’d never had to fantasize about a woman before.  He was usually inside them just hours after meeting them.  He’d never had to wonder for long how their hot flesh would feel clamped around his hard cock.  This waiting game Nia had cooked up was a new challenge for him, and he had to say he was enjoying it.   It just made the victory of her impending defeat much sweeter.

Massimo recalled his massive arousal this morning when he awoke to find Nia’s soft, bare bottom nestled against his groin.  It had taken every ounce of willpower for him to drag his aching body off that bed and take Jabari for a cold brisk walk.  On his return to the house, he’d made arrangements for Jabari and his handler, Servio, to be taken to the jet for their return to Kenya.  Once he’d said his good-byes, he’d gone to his home gym for a vigorous workout and an equally vigorous swim in the indoor pool.  He had to release all that pent-up energy somehow.

But his need for Nia had swiftly reinstated itself when he walked back into his bedroom to find her writhing under the sheets, no doubt dreaming about him.  He’d wanted to strip off his clothes, join her in bed, and fulfill her dreams in the worst way.  The only thing that stopped him was his promise not to make love to her for a week.  He would not breach their contract.  He wanted her to trust him.  But there was only so much temptation a man could take.

During breakfast, his mind had worked overtime on engineering and presenting a sink-or-swim counter contract offer to Nia.  One she could not refuse.  By the time they were headed into town, Massimo had decided that once he got to his office, he was calling Dafne to release her from their arrangement.  It was crazy to give anybody—especially a woman—that much power over him.  He was taking back control of his life and his future.

Since he had to marry to keep his inheritance, why not marry a woman he knew could offer him the kind of pleasure he demanded in bed?  Nia had already agreed to sleep with him for his money.  He saw no harm in marrying her in exchange for that same money.  She’d claimed that she wasn’t harboring any silly romantic notions about them.  Well, neither was he.  It would be a temporary business liaison with benefits, not a romantic love affair with complications.

He would offer her the same settlement he’d offered Dafne.  Probably a little more since he would be depriving her of her virginity.  Ten million should compensate for her loss, and once her duty was fulfilled, she was free to go back to New York or any other place in the world she desired—seeing she would be his wealthy ex-wife and mother of his child.

Pulling the red dress from the ‘no’ rack and selecting a couple other items from a table, Massimo strode to the door that led to the sales floor.  He called to a clerk who was busy straightening out a table laden with silk scarves.  

She glided over to him.  “Yes, Mr. Andretti?”

“We’ve set aside the outfits we’re keeping.”  He held out the dress and items.  “Have these delivered to the country club ASAP.  Miss Sylk is not to know about it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Massimo detected the curiosity in her eyes.  He could only imagine the avalanche of rumor about Massimo Andretti’s new love interest that would soon be speeding through Granite Falls.  And just as Paul had reminded him this morning, there would be bets on how long he’d keep this one.  For the first time in his life, Massimo was not amused by the gossip surrounding his personal life.

Nia was not just another love interest.  She was to become his unwilling bride.  Andretti men might not be in love with their wives, but they protected them at all cost.   He wished he could drag Nia down to city hall and put the Andretti mark on her today—stop the speculations before they began, but he knew she wouldn’t go along with it.  She’d have no reason to.  He had to corner her between a snow bank and a running plow where she would have no alternative but to marry him.

“Would you like me to deliver the rest of the wardrobe to your lake house, sir?”

At the clerk’s question, Massimo made a mental note to get rid of that house.  It was his belated eighteenth birthday gift from his father after Massimo was caught trying to sneak his real birthday present—a cute little brunette—into the Andretti mansion.  He’d never forget the look of desperation on Luciano Andretti’s face when he handed his young hormone-driven son the key to the villa, along with a case of condoms, and commanded him never to bring his flings to the Andretti Estate.  That honor, he’d adamantly emphasized, was reserved for Andretti wives only.

Until yesterday, Massimo had never disobeyed his father’s command.  Was never even tempted, not even with Gabrielle, who’d been deeply hurt at his reluctance to take her to his family home.  It just didn’t feel right to him.  As it turned out, it wasn’t, or more specifically,
she
wasn’t right for him.  His actions in taking Nia to the Andretti Estate, yesterday, were as spontaneous as they were inexplicable.  It was as if his heart knew its inevitable fate from the moment he laid eyes on Nia Sylk.

“Mr. Andretti?”

Massimo stared at the clerk.  “Yes.”

“The wardrobe, sir.  Should I deliver it to the villa?”

“No.  I’ll have someone pick it up later today.  Just have it ready to go.”  He pulled out his wallet and dropped a credit card on the counter before walking back into the dressing lounge. 

Nia emerged from the dressing stall.  She wore the same jeans and sweater she’d worn into town.  Any other woman would have been sporting one of the new outfits he’d just bought.

“You didn’t have to buy me so many clothes, Massimo,” she said, going over to the mirror to pull her hair back into its ponytail.  “I feel like it’s such a waste.  That money could have been given to charity.  There are many needy children in this world.”

For a woman who’d offered him sex for four million dollars, she sure was unimpressed with material things—so very different from the women he was used to.  She was more concerned about the basic needs of the unfortunate, and after his conversation with Paul this morning, he understood why.  She was one of the unfortunate.  She had hit rock bottom herself.

“I fund several charities,
cara
,” he said in his own defense.  “I support orphanages around the globe and award college scholarships to worthy students every year.”  Bianchi Incorporated was one such organization he supported in his mother’s memory.  It was a dream she’d brought to fruition just before she died.  “And tonight, I’m writing an enormous check for the CFF.  Who could fault me for splurging on someone I care about?”

“You care about me?”

“Yes,” he said, just then deciding she’d become a most valuable asset to him, if not the most valuable since she would be bearing his heir, the future of Andretti Industries and Bianchi Incorporated.  A prudent man would protect and cherish such an asset.  He liked to think of himself as a prudent man.  “Is that so hard to believe?”

“You don’t know me.”

“Then help me get to know you.”

“I’m rather boring.”  

“I doubt that, pussycat.”  As he watched her brush her long black hair, Massimo realized that giving up his freedom in exchange for his inheritance didn’t seem like a daunting ordeal anymore.  With a spitfire like Nia for a wife, he would never be bored in the bedroom.  If their son inherited Nia’s fiery temperament and the Andretti astute business sense, the boy would be a force to be reckoned with in the corporate world.

Pleased with this particular decision, Massimo strolled across the floor and stood behind Nia.  His hands closed over hers as she finished resetting her hair.  He felt her quiver at the contact.  He laced their fingers together and clasped his arms around her, bringing their joined hands to rest against her stomach.  His son would be well nourished as he grew in her belly, he thought, recalling Nia’s healthy appetite at dinner last night and at breakfast this morning.

He glanced down at their entwined limbs, loving the contrast in colors—his, tanned from the sun, and hers, a darker natural shade of brown—erotic and earthy.  Their son’s skin tone would be somewhere in between—olive.  He would be a most adorable child whom Massimo hoped would inherit his mother’s smile and beautiful brown eyes—eyes that would remind him of Nia once the term of their contract expired and she made her departure from his life.