Bought with the Italian's Ring Read online

  “Dealing with men like you. Playing ridiculous games. I’m not like other women you probably know. I’m nothing like the women I know.”

  His gaze swept over the tiara in her hair, the diamonds at her throat. “I would say you’re doing just fine. From everything I see, you have Giovanni wrapped around your finger.”

  “I don’t know how to decipher your words. I don’t understand why you’re determined to make a spectacle of me in this crowd. I don’t know why you’re—”

  Her attraction to Gio’s godson was the last thing she needed. Especially when, clearly, he bore no goodwill toward her.

  A finger under her chin, he tilted her face up to look at him. The stark beauty of him hit her hard again. “Why I’m what?”

  “Why you’re even touching me like this... I don’t know why I’m reacting to you like this. Why my heart is beating so hard I feel like it might rip out of my chest. Why there’s this...” His eyes flared and Pia caught the words that were bent on pouring out of her mouth. “And why you’re so intent on proving that you affect me like that even as your eyes are full of contempt.”

  His mouth lost that cynical curve; his eyes became searching, intent. It seemed she had finally shocked him.

  His hold gentled and Pia slipped away. The marble floor was cold against her bare feet reminding her she had left her heels behind.

  But she was no more Cinderella than Raphael Mastrantino was a prince.

  * * *

  Raphael ran a finger along his collar, his body humming with awareness, with unspent energy as if he were a randy youth.

  His attraction to Pia—instant and all consuming—defied logic. She was not beautiful, not in the conventional sense, not sophisticated for all her dress and jewelry—and yet there was something irresistibly alluring about her.

  Which woman among the society he lived in would so openly admit what she felt for him? And with that artless dismay that she was attracted to him?

  No, first there were games, games that every woman played. Even his mother played them when Raphael refused to buy her the latest model of the Vito Viva. Either she cooked his favorite food every night or she shed phony tears over his father’s death—an entire episode meant to guilt him and remind him that he should be a good son who granted each and every one of her expensive wishes.

  Even his four sisters played games, with Raphael, and with their boyfriends who had inevitably turned into husbands.

  No one admitted in that raw, unsophisticated way what a man made her feel. No one moaned like that—as if she were sinking into a whirlpool of pleasure when a man touched her ankle. No woman that he knew stared at a man with those big, luminous eyes as if he was the answer to her every fantasy.

  Coy looks, innuendoes laced with sexual tension, teases, throwing herself at other men to make him jealous—the list of things his ex-wife, Allegra, had tried on him a few years ago were innumerable.

  I’m not good at playing games.

  There had been a genuine quality to her distress, to her confusion. As if her body was betraying her and she didn’t know what to do.

  Either she was truly naive—an anachronism with her faint blushes and her trembling mouth—or she knew just how to appeal to a man as jaded and cynical as he was. Perhaps she had decided that the right way to court his attention would be to cater to that traditional man in him, the Neanderthal that Allegra had called him so many times.

  Was that it? Had she thought to counter his distrust by catering precisely to his tastes?

  A chill ran down the length of his spine as he made his usual rounds through the mansion as he usually did when visiting.

  He had no doubt about how much Gio would have talked about him over the last month. As his godson and his protégé, he was Giovanni’s pride and joy. Raphael had turned the small spare automobile parts company that Gio had handed him into Vito Automobiles, a leading manufacturing company.

  Giovanni had been his lifeline when he’d been sinking as a seventeen-year-old. He’d been a light in a long, dark tunnel that Raphael’s weak father had plunged them all into.

  Not that it stopped Giovanni from also being manipulative as hell. Throughout the evening, he had stood on the periphery of the crowd, watching, with a satisfied smile on his face. Like a puppeteer intensely delighted with the results of his string pulling.

  Whatever the old man was up to, it would eventually fall to Raphael to clean it up. Just as he kept Giovanni’s hounding relatives at bay. Just as he ensured that the leftovers from Gio’s time on the board—men who would stab Raphael in the back before he could blink—didn’t leach away the gains he had made.

  Just as he took care of the various and sundry branches of Mastrantino families without any expectations in return.

  And yet, as he questioned one of the staff members about Pia, Raphael was suddenly aware that this was unlike any other responsibility he shouldered.

  For no bickering ex-wife of Gio’s or grasping cousin of his mother had ever caused his blood to pound like this.

  No woman had ever called to his baser instincts like this supposedly innocent granddaughter of his godfather.

  CHAPTER TWO

  COOL WATER SLUICED off her back and limbs as Pia swam lap after lap in the indoor pool on Gio’s estate as if the very devil were after her.

  Raphael Mastrantino was very much the devil.

  The man’s arrogance!

  She worked off her fury in the water.

  Of all the men to be attracted to.

  She groaned and dunked her head in the water. He’d been so warm and solid around her. She could still feel the languorous weight of his hands on her waist. The length of his hard thigh rubbing against hers...

  The only satisfaction left to her was that she’d surprised him even as he had mocked and taunted her.

  She and Raphael Mastrantino lived in different orbits of life. He wouldn’t have even looked at her, much less danced with her, if she hadn’t been dressed up to the nines and if she wasn’t Gio’s granddaughter. What she didn’t understand though was why. Why had he pounced on her like that?

  Her arms lagged on her strokes as her thoughts whirled. Just as she decided to get out of the pool, she saw Raphael standing at the edge.

  The floodlights cast an outline along his broad frame.

  His white shirt was unbuttoned to the middle of his chest giving a glimpse of ridges of tight muscle with sparse black hair. Her belly swooped. The raven’s wing of his hair had a distinctly rumpled look.

  What would it take to shatter that arrogant cynicism, to bring a man like Raphael to his knees?

  She shivered at the direction of her thoughts.

  A bottle of Pinot Grigio and two wine flutes hung from his fingers. “I had to bribe one of the staff members for your location.”

  “I don’t like you, Mr. Mastrantino.”

  “I think you like me a little too much. Which is why you’re hiding.”

  The gall of the man! Pia had never met a more annoying man in her life. “Just because my body thinks you’re a prime male specimen and is attracted to you—which, by the way, is based on millions of years of evolution and a chemical reaction that drives a woman to choose the strongest man as her mate—it doesn’t mean my mind agrees.”

  His black eyes gleamed. The thin line of his lower lip curved with mocking amusement. “So you’ve dropped the act of trembling mouth and soft gasps then?”

  He almost sounded disappointed. Pia sighed. “Distance helped me remember the hormones part of it. It’s when you’re close that I...” She shrugged, trying to go for casual, which her stutter totally ruined. “That I’m unable to handle my reaction.”

  Just looking at the darkly sensual face stretched her skin tight over her body. And other parts. Parts that had never clenched and tightened with such wanton awareness.

  “You should call me Raphael.”

  “Not necessary.”

  He placed the bottle and glasses on a table then settled on a lo
unger, propped his elbows on his knees and returned to his intense scrutiny of her. “Because you’ll run away every time I’m around?”

  “I’ve been suitably and repeatedly impressed with what an important, powerful and wealthy man you are. You run a multinational automobile company in the city, apparently control and manage not only Gio’s finances but your mother’s family’ finances and your father’s and all the numerous cousins thereof.

  I, on the other hand, mean to spend the summer getting to know Gio. I let him railroad me into this ball because it meant a lot to him. So the chance of you and me spending time in each other’s company is pretty low.”

  “When the summer is over?” he shot back instantly, picking the one thing Pia didn’t want to discuss.

  “This summer is just holiday. I wasn’t even sure if Gio would believe me. But I do have a life elsewhere.” A life without her grandmother, a life without any close friends. A life where no one really cared about her.

  Which was why she’d been such an easy mark for Frank.

  “Is Gio aware of your supposed intentions?”

  “No, and they’re not supposed,” she said, losing her temper. Would nothing please the man?

  The water lapped around her silently. “You’re staring,” she said softly.

  “You look like a different woman.”

  “I was terrified all evening that I’d spill something on that gorgeous, expensive gown. I have a habit of getting into worse messes than my students. I’m not used to wearing contacts. Now there is no war paint on my face. And my hair is back in its natural, uncontrollable state.” She pulled a coiled curl that was already dry.

  He followed the action as if he was transfixed. “Your students?”

  “I teach Science to fifth graders.”

  Surprise dawned in his gaze. It tracked her wet face, lingering far too long than was proper over her mouth, and then the slope of her shoulders, visible over the water’s surface. A shiver snaked down her spine.

  “An elementary teacher? I find I’m overwhelmed by curiosity about you. A rare occurrence.”

  Pia stared, wishing she’d misheard him. But the world was quiet around them. Only a slight breeze and the whispers of the trees all around the pool. It wasn’t just curiosity that made his voice deepen, that made his mouth tighten.

  “What do you have against me?”

  Moonlight caressed the dark column of his throat, the smooth velvety skin pulled taut over a lean chest. He tilted his head down, a devilish twist to his mouth. “Other than the fact that you’re manipulating an old man’s misguided affection for you?”

  His words shocked Pia so much that she dropped her hold on the tiles, sank in, and then came up sputtering water out of her nose and mouth.

  He thought she was after Gio’s fortune?

  He frowned at her chattering teeth. “Get out of there before you freeze.”

  “No,” Pia said stubbornly, a rush of anger heating up her still muscles. “You leave.”

  His hands went to the buttons on his shirt. Taut skin stretched over lean muscles appeared as he unbuttoned. “Either you come out or...”

  Glaring at him, Pia walked up the steps.

  The moment she was out, he wrapped the huge towel around her. Heart thundering in her chest, Pia pushed her wet hair off her face with trembling hands.

  As if she were a child, he gave her a brisk rubdown, up and down her arms. Throat dry, Pia stared at his chest. Her cheeks burned when he repeated the movements over her chest, hips and back. Those large hands didn’t linger anywhere and yet warmth began to pool in her belly.

  “You stayed too long in there.” His voice had gone husky, deep.

  She shivered again.

  “Sit,” he commanded, and Pia obediently sat on the lounger. He handed her a glass of wine and it was exactly what she wanted.

  Silently, she took a sip.

  For a few minutes, they sat like that, side by side on loungers, not talking. Not even looking at each other. But that awareness that had consumed her in the ballroom thickened the air around them. His touch, impersonal, still lingered.

  Her attraction to him was natural.

  He was the most strikingly handsome man she’d ever met.

  She refused to be ashamed by it. But neither did she want to keep confronting it, to keep thinking that she was somehow less than him because she wasn’t sophisticated or beautiful or polished enough. She’d had enough of Frank manipulating her insecurities. “All I want is to spend the summer with my grandfather. I really don’t see why that should be any of your business,” she said softly.

  “I am Giovanni’s friend. I am more friend than all of his useless, bickering, social climbing family put together. I would do anything to protect Giovanni and his interests. It is my business if you put one step wrong with him.”

  “What have I done that offends you so much?”

  “You seem to have no scruples about cheating an old man who has done nothing but welcome you into his life with open arms without even checking if you truly are who you claim to be.”

  “So now I’m not only a gold digger of the worst kind but also an impostor?”

  “All evidence points to it, si.”

  Pia fisted her hands, the urge to strike that smug condescension from his face burning through her. “Gio’s lover, Lucia, was my nonna. She left him after they had a huge row and settled in the States. My parents died when I was three and she raised me.” She stood up, her pulse skittering all over. “I found Lucia’s letters to him after she died and called him. That’s the truth.”

  “It’s also true that he’s given you thousands of dollars in the one month you’ve been here.”

  If only the ground could open up and swallow her whole! Mortification filled her cheeks.

  She couldn’t even be mad at Raphael, because from his point of view it looked like she was a grasping, greedy woman. But to be so cynical as to question her whole motive for visiting Italy...? “Gio wouldn’t have told you,” she mumbled half to herself.

  “I keep an eye over Gio’s finances. His three ex-wives learned it was better to live with what he provides them than to take me on.”

  She forced herself to meet his eyes. “You’re making assumptions based on one transaction and out of context.”

  “I assume based on facts and not feelings. I learned to do so a long time ago.”

  The towel slipped from her shoulders so her hair was dripping onto her back. And the one-piece she wore was not the most convenient costume when wet. But Pia was determined to make him see. Even if it meant admitting the most humiliatingly painful episode of her life. Even if it meant giving voice to her foolishness. “Giovanni gave me that money to pay off...credit card debt.”

  “So you did your research before you contacted him,” he said in a silky, almost bored voice.

  Her grip far too tight on the stem of the wineglass Pia stared at him. “This is pointless if you won’t even give me a chance.

  “You have to protect Giovanni, true, but one would think you’d at least give me a chance when his happiness is involved.” She wouldn’t beg him to believe her. Shaking with hurt and humiliation, she stood up.

  He reached out and caught her wrist. A jolt of fiery sensation raced from her wrist to her breasts, to the spot between her thighs. Pia jerked her hand away, breath coming in hard and fast.

  “Stay.” Tension radiated from him, confusing her. “I will listen, si? Whether I will believe...”

  She sat down and looked at her hands. Words came and fell away again. Taking a deep breath, she blurted it out. “I racked up that debt because I was foolish enough to fall for a con man.”

  His expression instantly turned thunderous. “Fall for a con man? What do you mean?”

  “I believed a colleague when he said he loved me. I went back to work after nursing Nonni for two years and he was the new gym teacher at the school where I worked. He...cultivated a friendship with me for weeks, then asked me out. After a f
ew months, he...told me he’d fallen in love with me.

  “I trusted him and loaned him money when he said he was in trouble. Again and again. I gave him the little Nonni had left me, and then when that was done, I...” The words stuck like glass in her throat. “I emptied my savings, and took a loan on my card when he said he desperately needed money to avoid a loan shark.”

  His expletive punctured the silence around them. Did that mean he believed her? Pia found she didn’t give a damn. Frank had deceived her in the worst possible way. Nothing Raphael said or believed could be any worse.

  There was a strange strength in the fact that she’d already been through the worst.

  “So you’re as naive and meek as you look? How could you trust any man so much that you risk everything you have?”

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her. Tight lines emerged around her mouth and she blinked rapidly. Moonlight flickered on her delicate jawline that was clenched taut.

  Raphael killed the thread of regret that hit him. He wasn’t going to coddle her.

  She looked down at her hands and then around her. When she spoke, her voice had lost that husky timbre. It was as if she was forcing herself to say the words. Just for his benefit.

  “I was lost, lonely after Nonni passed away. I hardly had any friends after being her full-time caregiver for two years. He was charming, attractive. He singled me out almost immediately after I went back to work. He even did me the favor of explaining to me that he had done his research and picked me as the prime target. The other teachers had unwittingly given him enough ammunition.”

  Even as he’d cruelly called her weak, she was anything but in that moment. He knew that it took guts to pull yourself up when everything was lost. And yet, she’d not only done it, but she was facing him down too. “How?”

  “They told him that I was...shy, and inexperienced. That they thought I needed to start living now that Nonni had passed away. They told him I’d never had a boyfriend and would probably be grateful for his attention.” When he growled, she hurried on. “I think they meant well. They couldn’t have known he would prey on all my insecurities.”