The Consequence She Cannot Deny
‘And I will deliver that. I will.’
He folded his arms over his chest, looked down at her upturned, earnest face. ‘Yes, you will,’ he said.
‘Si, signor!’
And, dammit all, he found himself smiling. Just for a second. Caught up in her infectious words.
Then he watched as she headed straight for Kyla, greeting her like some long-lost sister. Beaming round at Mariella. Quirky. Confident.
That hair... Those curves...
Yes, maybe this would all turn out OK.
All around about him people got busier and busier. Raffaele wandered outside to take some calls and keep an eye on Salvatore. Every five minutes or so he’d glance over his shoulder to see what was happening inside.
He shouldn’t have to do this. He should be able to let Salvatore run his own life. They were the same age, had more or less had the same upbringing, but they were miles apart in terms of values. In terms of direction.
If he could walk away from all this right now he would. But he’d made a promise. He didn’t need a penny from Argento. He had more than enough from Romano. But Giancarlo hadn’t been stupid. He’d known exactly how quickly it would all unravel as soon as Salvatore was let loose with all those millions. Tying him in through the will had been a cast-iron guarantee of keeping Argento afloat.
But how much more of this could he stomach? He couldn’t watch over every move Kyla made. He’d have to let them sink or swim some time. Legally, he was tied to Giancarlo for three more years. But morally he had him for life.
He glanced back inside the loggia. It seemed that order was descending.
The adorable Coral was looking through the clothes rails with Kyla and Mariella. Then she was organising assistants to move screens and lights. Laughing with the hair guy, consulting with the fashion editor as clothes were ruthlessly discarded. She was ‘all over it’ and no mistake.
‘Is everything all right?’
He was still standing at the side, checking his emails, when she walked towards him, a glass of water in her hand.
‘Only you look at little preoccupied.’
‘Just waiting to hear good news, Coral.’
‘OK. I think I’ve got it down. It’s not going to be a pastiche or a pantomime. It’s a simple studio shoot—nothing too exciting. I’m afraid you were right about the princess trope. That’s what Kyla wants to be. But I’ve talked her into nineties glamour rather than eighties pop. Those prints we passed in the hallway—the Testinos—gave me an idea. I said I’d do an homage to the supermodel. She loved it.’
She was chatting to him as if he was an old friend. The glints in her hair were warm and rich and he itched to feel the heavy tresses in his hand.
‘The team are amazing. I can’t believe how fluidly they work together. I’m learning so much. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this.’
She dipped her head and looked at him with those bewitching eyes. Those bewilderingly familiar, bewitching eyes.
‘OK, so I’d better get back to work. Phew. It’s hot.’
She reached her arms up and twisted her hair into a knot. Her breasts thrust forward and his groin was shot with pleasure at the sight.
‘Come here,’ he said, putting his hand around her arm and drawing her towards him.
He took her jaw in his hand, gently moving her face this way and that.
‘What is it about you? I can’t take my eyes off you. There’s something so familiar... Have we met before?’
It was possible. Shorter hair? Different clothes? He looked at her again. There was something so engaging and compelling about her—and, still at the back of his mind, something so familiar.
She stepped back out of his reach and he dropped his hand.
‘Sorry, but I don’t think so.’
He had to laugh at that. ‘You don’t think you’d remember?’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not sure.’
Her eyes dipped, and for the first time he thought he saw the coquette. She was either the most naturally sensual woman he’d ever met or she was playing little games. Either way, he was beginning to get more and more turned on by her.
‘Look at me.’
She lifted her eyes slowly, flicked him a quick glance and then dropped her gaze to the side.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m sorry, but would you mind if I got back to the shoot? I’ve only got one shot at this and I don’t want to blow it.’
He put his hand on her jaw again and her eyes widened.
‘You really are genuine, aren’t you? You’d rather hang out at the pantomime than flirt with me.’
‘Signor Rossini, my future is in photography—not in flirting.’
At that he laughed. A proper laugh. The sound of it startled him.
‘I like you flirting. You have a very promising career in flirting.’
She smiled too. And it was beautiful. So beautiful that he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted this woman. Now.
‘Come here. I want to show you something.’
At the far end of the loggia a short flight of steps led down to a sunken courtyard garden—private and tucked away. It was the perfect place for what he had in mind.
He clasped his fingers round hers and escorted her through the glare of lights and pounding music, driven by an ache that had to be assuaged. He led her down the marble steps, walking briskly, barely aware of the sun splattering flower shadows on each side of the path, until finally spinning her round in the archway that looked out onto the jewel-bright sea. He could hold back no longer.
He clasped her face in his hands and stared down into those eyes. ‘You beautiful girl.’
But as he moved to kiss her she squealed and stepped out of his grasp.
‘I—I have to get back. They’ll be waiting for me.’
He smiled with casual confidence. ‘You can take ten minutes to check out the view.’
‘That’s kind, but it will set tongues wagging. They’ll all think I’m down here getting it on with you.’
‘That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.’
But she stepped further away, looking horrified.
‘OK, Miss Dahl. If you insist.’
‘I’m sorry, but I really want to make a good impression on everyone. This is so important for me. I need to network with these people. Some of them could open doors for me. The last thing I want is anyone thinking I’ve been on some kind of casting couch.’
He looked at her. She was serious.
‘Nobody would dare to question you. You’ve been in discussion with me. And I answer to no one.’
She looked vexed.
‘You don’t understand. I want this more than I can tell you. I’ve never been rich or successful. My mum has had to beg and borrow and steal to put me through college and I can’t risk ruining this one chance.’
‘You’re not going to ruin anything. Mariella is one of the toughest in the business and you won her over because of your talent. You’ve won me over too. That’s a fact. And we have chemistry—really explosive chemistry. You can’t deny that. I’m not sure why you think it’s such a problem.’
‘I’m not denying that I’m flattered. Of course I am. But...’
‘But?’
She looked away, uncomfortable.
He’d had enough. He pulled out his phone.
‘Va bene. I’ve got work to do. Enjoy the rest of your day.’
He walked away, smiling. Casting couch! As if he would need anything so obvious. A glance, a whisper, a word left unsaid—that was all it ever took.
But he had to admire her principles. How refreshing. And even more attractive. At least he could be sure she wasn’t one of those who thought a kiss was a declaration of love or a proposal of marriage. Or a sign to go out and choose a wedding dress or wallpaper for the nursery.
Ha! He laughed at his own joke. Wallpaper for the nursery! Words he would never say. Not even with a gun to his head.
CHAPTER THREE
‘THE STILLS LOOK amazing. Kyla is really pleased. It was an absolute genius idea.’ Mariella, who’d been a little bit glacial all afternoon, managed to squeeze out a compliment.
Coral closed her eyes in a silent prayer of thanks as they checked out the stream of images for Kyla’s final outfit.
‘The whole day has been a dream come true,’ she said. ‘Everyone’s been lovelier than lovely. Just being here watching would have been amazing, but getting to work with the best in the business... I’ve learned loads already.’
‘Yes, I bet you have. All we need now is Raffaele’s final approval and then we can really relax.’
There was no mistaking the tone. Coral looked away. Glances had been exchanged all afternoon, but so far no one had mentioned the fact that she had been alone with Raffaele twice over the course of the day.
‘So lucky that he gave you his approval.’
‘Yes, I couldn’t be happier.’
‘Amazing that you managed to change his mind so easily.’
Here it came.
‘Yes, it was. You’re absolutely right. He liked my idea and I’m so grateful to you for giving me this chance.’
‘You know we had a thing once, Raffa and I?’
‘Oh. No. I didn’t realise.’
Could this get any more awkward?
Mariella’s wily, exquisitely arched brows rose. ‘Angel, no one who dresses in Sophia Loren’s hand-me-downs is fooling anyone. You think you can get your claws into Raffaele? Let me give you some free advice. You’re just some light relief between emails. Don’t think that your fumble on the terrace is going to get you on some fast track to fame. There’s a whole stable of little fillies like you, waiting for him to click his fingers. So take it from me—success is about what you put in, not about how well you put out.’
‘I don’t know what you think you know, Mariella, but I can promise you this: I am here for one reason and one reason only. I want to make a name for myself.’
‘You already have, angel. You already have.’
Mariella winked at her, then shook her head as she breezed past, leaving Coral adrift in the swarm of people packing things away.
But she was right. She was absolutely right. This was her career, not a fantasy island adventure. Raffaele Rossini was not going to chase after her when she was back in London. She’d been a distraction this afternoon and that was it. He was off the charts and off the agenda in every single way. Every. Single. Way.
Thank goodness she’d had the strength of will to resist him earlier. It had taken every ounce of her resolve not to kiss him back. When he’d touched her she’d wanted to melt into him. When he’d held her face she’d wanted to close her eyes and slide into heaven...
But that wasn’t why she was here. She was shoving open the door of her career. And it would slam in her face if she messed up.
‘Miss Dahl?’
She looked up from the images on the laptop into the face of a very attractive young man.
‘Signor Rossini wishes you to attend a meeting at his villa.’
‘Oh! I haven’t quite finished, and my things—’
‘The meeting is due to start now.’
Coral looked around. Mariella and the fashion staff had disappeared and the clothes were being packed away. Only a few junior staff still wandered about, tidying up the loggia.
‘Is it really important?’
He gave her an Are you serious? look and shook his head.
‘Follow me, please.’
It would be fine. It was probably a meeting to look through the images she’d shot and select the best, decide what needed to be filtered or airbrushed. Mariella would be there. And the other senior staff. Maybe they would be planning the next shoot. There was talk that Kyla was going to ask Salvatore to do a couple shoot.
She picked up her precious camera and tucked it in her bag. Then she followed the brisk pace set by the man back through the house and out to the front entrance, into a black buggy and along the short paved road to Raffaele’s villa.
Her stomach fluttered and she felt the dirt and dust of the day on her as she tried to wipe her damp hands on her dress.
‘Do you think I could clean up before I meet Signor Rossini?’ she asked the young man, but he merely opened the door and closed it behind her as she once more stepped inside the spectacular house.
‘You may bathe in Aphrodite’s Pool, if you like.’
* * *
‘Raffaele?’
She looked around for signs of the others, but the eerie green glow from the sunken pool and the shimmer of light from the chandelier landed on a room that was quite deserted.
‘Indeed. Thank you for joining me,’ he said, beckoning for her to follow as he led her through the lounge and out to the terrace.
It was already lit with candles and tiny lights, and there was a glimmering curtain between the wide, low walls and the high hedges beyond.
‘I thought it was important to close our discussion more appropriately than the last time. Mariella has just left. She thought things went very well. You have potential.’
‘Thank you,’ said Coral, following behind him.
Her eyes shifted from the broad slope of his shoulders in a tight T-shirt to the tight fit of his trousers across his backside as he walked. He stopped and turned so suddenly that she realised she’d been caught staring.
She looked up at the unreadable, unbearably handsome face and blushed.
‘Yes, everyone seemed pleased,’ she babbled. ‘Especially Kyla. She channelled her inner supermodel and looked quite the goddess—but in a very tasteful way. I’m so glad you’re pleased.’
‘Yes, I am. Very pleased.’
He took the bag that hung limply from her hand and put it down. The butterflies in her stomach soared. To please Mariella was one thing, but to please the CEO of Romano with the list of conditions he had set was another thing entirely. She felt almost dizzy with pride.
‘I couldn’t be more pleased,’ he said.
And, although she knew he wasn’t just talking about her work, she was flattered.
‘That makes me feel very proud,’ she said.
‘So you should be.’
He stared into her eyes and she tried to look away, but the inky irises drew her in deeper and deeper. He smiled, ever so slightly, and her eyes fell to his mouth, to the perfect shapes and shadows.
Oh, my God! He’s going to kiss me!
Her treacherous body fluttered with longing. But he smiled gently and the moment passed as he turned back towards the lights of the house.
Air flew from her lungs like a burst balloon. She felt light-headed. Undone. And nothing had even happened.
‘You can bask in your glory all evening at the party.’
‘What party?’ she said, swallowing.
‘It’s been a good day. Kyla’s lust for cheap glamour has been held in check. Mariella has pulled off a great feature. Of course there will be a party. They’re getting it ready now, at the old villa. Salvatore is coming here shortly—we have some things to discuss—and then we will come over to join you all.’
He was inside now, walking back to the lounge. The dogs pricked up their ears and tracked him with their eyes as he passed.
‘That’s amazing. I mean, I’m really, really pleased that you liked the work. Do you think...?’ She paused.
‘Do I think that there might be more commissions to follow?’ he said.
He unscrewed a bottle of water and poured it out slowly, rhythmically.
‘Perhaps... Kyla has some idea of a couple thing with Salvatore, so maybe they’ll want you to do that before the wedding. Mariella will talk that through with you tonight.’
‘That’s incredible. I can’t thank you enough.’
Her mind whirred. A party. The staff would all be there. Mariella and the others, drinking champagne and looking so well put together—the way they always looked. They worked in an industry where everything was about looking perfect, and they had access to every product, every accessory under the sun. Her vintage thrift shop dress had been just about good enough for daytime, but she’d look ridiculous wearing it again tonight.
‘I wish I’d known. I thought I’d be flying home tonight. I never imagined I’d be invited to a party. I’ve not brought anything to wear.’
‘That’s never a problem on a fashion shoot. Everyone will be helping themselves.’
‘But I can’t wear those clothes! I’m a totally different shape.’
‘There’ll be something to suit you. You’re not such a different shape than Kyla.’
‘I’m nothing like Kyla. She’s tiny. I’m...’
Coral ran a mental check over the clothes that had been brought, trying to imagine herself squeezing into something that might pass scrutiny.
‘You’re...what?’
He sipped water and looked at her.
‘I’m not easy to dress.’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘I mean I have my own style.’
It was the best thing she could say in the circumstances. What was the alternative—pointing out her huge backside and overflowing boobs? No way!
‘You will not be difficult to dress at all. Stand there.’
He tilted his head and scanned her body, his eyes trailing slowly from her neck to her chest and down to her waist.
He walked around her. ‘Of course what you are wearing could be covering up some grave imperfections. Or perfections.’
‘I’m well aware of what suits me and what doesn’t.’
She watched his inscrutable face. He could be looking at a lump of rock for all he was giving away, but she was feeling electrified as his eyes slowly scanned her body.
‘The question is—what are you hiding under that dress? The perfect hourglass?’
He stepped closer and walked around her again. Coral felt her heart begin to thunder. She felt an unbearable desire for him to touch her with his hands.
‘You know, my longest love affair was with women’s fashion,’ he said, lifting her left arm up by the fingertips and scanning her from wrist to shoulder. ‘I remember going along to my mother’s couture fittings. Even as a very young child I was fascinated by the process—the illusions that could be created or destroyed. That’s one of the reasons I started Heavenly. It’s all behind me now, but I spent my first two years after college working on American Vogue, copywriting. And dating models.’
‘I’m no model, I can assure you,’ said Coral, suddenly cringing at the thought of her generous proportions.
He had stopped behind her. She could feel the heat from his body, his broad shoulders and firm biceps framing her. She could feel the roar of desire rampaging through her veins.
‘But you are incredibly beautiful. And you have a body that is driving me almost mad with curiosity.’
His words landed close to her right ear and she shivered uncontrollably. He moved around her, now lifting her right fingertips and staring down the length of her arm.
‘As an artist, you will know that fashion is a creative process. But you should never ignore the fact that what is pleasing to the eye mirrors desire. For example, I’ve never been clear why it is that just this curve—may I?’
She looked down to where his bronzed hand moulded the space between her waist and her ribs. Her breathing stopped...her body seemed to wilt. She leaned back a tiny fraction and her bottom grazed his loins. She felt his chest against her shoulder blades. A wall of heat flamed between them.
‘Why do some designers ignore the lines and curves that you have to such perfection—that instantly fire a man’s desires? I cannot understand why they do not design clothes that flatter and complement nature’s basic lines. So many make awful clothes that suit...nobody.’
Briefly he lifted her skirt, looked at the fabric. ‘This is nice.’ He dropped it and stepped away. ‘Perplexing, isn’t it? I could dress you. Very easily. There are rooms full of vintage here—couture and off the peg.’
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