Chapter 7
Seven
REGINA
I may as well be walking on air. The pain of my earlier choice of footwear is relegated to the past because it’s as if I’m not wearing shoes at all, let alone the astonishingly high and yet comfortable silver ones that fate has provided like Cinderella’s glass slipper.
Even more surprising is the way I can walk effortlessly on them, as if I am wearing nothing at all, and as for my companion, I am speechless with how lucky I got when he picked me up from my misery on the red carpet and transported me to paradise.
I really do feel as if I had a fairy godmother looking out for me tonight, and as we head into the elevator, the other guy miraculously waits inside.
To be honest, I am struggling to keep my jaw from dropping the more I stare at these men.
Both have a commanding presence, but Nico is something else entirely.
He must be Italian. He has all the good looks and style of one, from his dark hair that is styled perfectly, to his razor-sharp smoldering gaze from those devastating obsidian eyes.
The strong jaw that could cut glass and a toned body that must have been crafted from long hours in the gym.
He is wearing all black, and it suits him.
The only diversion from that is the thick gold watch on his wrist. He is a powerful man and must be a wealthy one because money appears to be abundant in his life.
I’m curious about that and crack the awkward silence by asking, “So, this is very impressive. You must have a good job to afford all of this.”
He leans against the wall of the elevator, his intense gaze a little discomforting.
“I am in business.”
The other guy shifts on his feet, and I wonder if he’s the assistant.
I nod. “You must be good at it. I mean, I’m in business too, and mine is nowhere near this scale. One day maybe, who knows, but it would take years if not a lifetime to get to this point. You should tell me your secret.”
I’m babbling and wish it was possible to seal my mouth shut with tape because it’s obvious I am well out of my league with these two men.
“Your business–” Nico interrupts my madness. “Tell me about it.”
“Well, I’m kind of proud of it. I make up gift baskets and sell them online. I, well, have a vlog and a following of two hundred thousand. It keeps me busy.”
I clutch my purse tighter, wondering when I’ll get the opportunity to do some filming. Perhaps he’ll even grant me an interview on camera. Perhaps I should ask him.
“A vlog?” He raises his impeccable eyebrow.
“Tell me about that.”
“Well,–” I fumble in my purse and bring out my phone, scrolling through until I find my page.
“Here. It’s called basket case and I advertise my products while chatting about world events.”
He reaches for my phone and stares at the screen, and I wonder what he must be thinking right now. I mean, the profile picture could use some updating. It’s me dressed as a fairy from three Christmas parties ago. I really should change that.
Without a word, he hands the phone to his um, friend I guess, who stares at it with a blank expression.
“Do you have a profile? Perhaps we should follow one another?”
I babble, and he shakes his head. “No, I do not.”
“Oh, you really should get one. I mean, there are so many opportunities online these days. I’ll help set you up if you like, even share your page with my followers. You never know; it may work.”
The silent one hands back my phone, and I say hopefully, “We should grab a selfie, um, all of us. That would be fun.”
“No.” Nico’s tone is abrupt. “There will be no photography, no vlogs and no online profiles. Tonight we are putting business aside and concentrating on pleasure instead.”
“Oh, um, okay, yes – pleasure. Super duper.”
He raises his eyes and I blush. “I’m sorry. Well, you must be wondering what kind of idiot you rescued.”
“I wonder nothing. I deal in facts.”
The elevator arrives, and I notice the silent one exits first as Nico reaches for my hand. “Come, we are late.”
As we head toward the ballroom, I’m aware of an atmosphere I cannot place.
Nico’s hand is firmly curled around mine, and he is rigid beside me.
There is no talking, no eye contact with anyone, and the faces of the people we pass appear almost reverent.
I’m also aware that as soon as we left the elevator, two men fell into step behind us, dressed also in black, their expressions cast in stone and I whisper nervously, “I don’t want to alarm you but we’re being followed.
I really hope it’s not because of me. I was thrown out earlier, and they must be pissed about that. ”
I get no reaction, just a tightening of his grip in my hand, and before I can interrupt the madness with more pointless words, a man stops in front of us and says with reverence, “Mr. Ravera, Justin Scott, the um manager. I am sorry I wasn’t here to greet you personally.”
I’m amazed at how much the manager is sweating right now. It doesn’t seem that warm; if anything, there’s a lingering chill in the air down to the revolving doors constantly, well, revolving.
I almost think Nico will totally ignore the poor man, and then he stops and jerks his thumb toward the door.
“The doorman and the woman checking in the guests. Bring them to me.”
The blood drains from both the manager’s face and mine because what the hell is happening now?
He scurries off, and Nico stands, along with everyone surrounding us, and as he waits, his glare could melt the ice sculptures outside.
I say nothing because it is becoming increasingly evident that I am well out of my league, and once again, I wonder who the hell Nico is.
It doesn’t take long before the three of them appear, and I note the discomfort on all of their faces.
Nico sneers with contempt, and the atmosphere darkens as he glares at the woman and doorman in turn.
“You disrespected my guest.”
His low husky growl sends shivers down my spine, and the sudden burst of heat in the faces before me lights a sudden toxic atmosphere.
I wonder if I should interrupt and say it was nothing, but to be honest, it was everything.
I have never been so mortified, and I really would prefer to fade into the shadows right now, but Nico is having none of it.
“Apologize to Miss Stone.”
His low growl almost makes me jump, and the woman is first as she stutters, “I’m sorry, sir.”
He holds up his hand. “I said, apologize to Miss Stone. Not to me.”
She turns to me, and her lower lip quivers as she says apologetically, “I’m so sorry, Miss Stone. I wasn’t aware you were Mr. Ravera’s guest. Please accept my apologies for any distress I have caused you.”
“Um, well–” I bark out an awkward laugh. “It’s fine; don’t worry about it at all. Mistakes happen and nobody died after all.”
The doorman puts me out of my verbose misery.
“I’m sorry, Miss Stone. I should have handled the situation differently.”
“Oh yes,” Nico interrupts, his tone deep and ominous. “You handled her.”
The blood drains from the doorman’s face as Nico steps forward, staring into his face with barely a centimeter between them.
“You touched her. You forced her to leave when she begged you not to. You pushed a woman with no coat on, into the coldest night to face the paparazzi, dressed in barely anything. You humiliated her.”
I swear the blood drains from every part of this poor man’s body, and the manager looks as if he’s about to have a coronary.
“Nico.” I pull on his hand, desperate to reduce the building tension, but I may as well be invisible as he hisses, “Nobody touches what’s mine and treats her like a common whore.”
I am extremely conscious of Nico’s firearm not too far away and seriously believe he may be intent on using it, so I do the only thing I can do under the circumstances—I fall down to the floor and pretend to pass out.
Before I reach the floor, a strong arm catches me, and the voice belonging to it snaps, “Get her a chair.”
There is a lot of commotion around me, but I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut as I am swept up into Nico’s arms. I know they’re his because his seriously hot aftershave is swimming happily around my senses, and as his arms fold protectively around me, he leans down and whispers softly in my ear, “Nice try, baby girl, but his fate will not escape him.”
I open one eye and note the rather amused expression on his face that is quickly replaced by an angry scowl as the manager exclaims, “Shall I call the paramedics?”
I snap my eyes open and splutter, “Oh no, what happened? It’s fine. I’m fine. There is nothing to see here.”
Nico’s arm tightens even further as he growls at the poor doorman, “This is due to your actions. She may have hyperthermia, and I blame you for that.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The poor man is almost crying, and the manager’s voice shakes as he interrupts, “I’ll fire him, Mr. Ravera, just say the word and he’s gone.”
“No!”
I attempt to sit up, but it’s impossible as I say quickly, “It’s nearly Christmas, and I will not be responsible for taking a man’s livelihood away from him.”
Nico shrugs, a cruel twist to his lips. “Then what do you suggest?”
“Um.” My voice falls. “He, well, apologized. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
Nico shakes his head. “Not even close.”
Somebody races up with a brandy, and I don’t even hesitate and down it in one. “Thanks, um, I’m fine. Can we, um, go now—please?”
This is probably even more embarrassing that being projected through the revolving doors, and Nico nods.
“You are lucky my guest is so forgiving. I am not. Now leave.”
The two staff members scurry away like rats from a burning building, and the manager says over and over, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Enough!” Nico’s voice cuts the conversation dead. “Leave us.”
The manager’s mouth opens and then closes, and as the silent one moves between them, he takes his cue and slinks away back into the shadows.
Nico sets me down on my feet, and I take a deep breath, noting how his hand is still firmly placed in mine.
His eyes are dark, flashing with anger, and there must be something extremely wrong with me because I am so turned on right now.
Who knew that angry men were an aphrodisiac?
I am almost hyperventilating and struggling to maintain my cool.
“Come, we must get this evening over with.”
As he pulls me along after him toward the huge ballroom doors, my breath comes fast and desperate. What happened back there was all encompassing and I am still trying to process who the hell this man is.