Chapter Two
ALESSANDRO WAITED FOR tears and angry, possessive claims. Now that he knew who she was, the last thing he wanted to do was touch her again. But her golden-brown skin went alarmingly pale.
He reached her just in time. Her thigh hit his as he swung an arm around her waist loosely, giving her space to pull away. She was tall enough in her boots that her breath hit his chin. Every single point of contact of her body against his burned.
“Matteo’s engaged,” she whispered, then pulled away. She walked through the French doors into his private patio.
Against the glittering lake, she should have paled. Instead, the open emotions on her face made her something to behold. There was a quiet grace about her, even in her distress.
He wanted to hold her, comfort her until she was sparring with him again. He wanted to kiss that mouth until all that remained on her lips was his name. Not his brother’s.
He didn’t remember a time when he’d wanted someone with this naked, fierce want. All his experiences with Violetta—that first rush of love, that stage of frantic, awkward lovemaking, that fierce need to be around her all the time, to please her, to prove his worth to her had been a lifetime ago.
Forgotten, like blurry black-and-white pictures with echoes of emotions he didn’t know anymore.
Dio mio, the first woman to grab his interest in years and she was Matteo’s ex. Biting back a curse, he went to the stocked bar. Usually, he limited his alcohol intake to one drink per week.
In the months following Violetta’s death, he’d consumed enough to damage his liver for a lifetime. Since drinking himself into an early grave would shatter his father and aunt, he’d channeled that madness into work. Tonight, however, he needed one more than one.
Because this was… Sam. Matteo’s Sam.
The Sam that Matteo had talked about nonstop for years.
The Sam that had made Matteo take unprecedented interest in overseeing their California branch.
The Sam that Matteo had been very careful to not betray as a woman, letting everyone assume that Sam was just a close male friend. Why hide her existence from them?
Staring at her phone, the woman shivered.
Leather jacket and drink in hand, he went to her. Relief filled him when she let him drape the jacket over her shoulders, grabbing the edges to pull it close. “Drink this.”
Her eyes flared wide. “No, thank you.”
A stab of something behind his ribs made him grit his jaw. He disliked how pliable she sounded all of a sudden. “You had a shock. This will help.”
“I can’t. It messes with my…meds.”
Shrugging, he finished the second drink. Even now, her gaze lingered over his throat. She was mourning his brother’s betrayal, and yet she watched him with such artless interest.
Alessandro wanted to taunt her for her awareness of him, but only a weak man attacked when their opponent was reeling.
“Is it Angelina Bianchi?” she said, looking out at the lake.
He studied her profile with greed he couldn’t corral. “He told you about her?”
She glared at him. “That you’ve been pressuring him because it’s a good match for the last year, yes. That you constantly push him to do more, yes. That you cast this huge shadow over his life that sometimes he can’t breathe, yes.”
Laughter burst out of him. Of course Matteo had painted himself as the victim. “Pace yourself, Ms. Fischer. We don’t want you to exhaust yourself this early in our acquaintance, vero?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I take my words back. You’re not clever at all.”
She faced him, all fury and disdain. “You don’t know me.”
The mere hint of her temper, the fight she’d shown him earlier, creeping back into her face made Alessandro push.
“Do I need to, when you blame everyone other than the man who two-timed you? And he did two-time you, Sam, because you said you broke up four months ago, but he’s been seeing Angelina for at least six months already.
You should be glad that your relationship already came to an end! ”
“I’m not defending Matteo.” Her mouth opened and closed. “I just… I don’t like that you’re witness to this.”
Her blunt honesty took him aback for a second. “Because I refuse to sugarcoat reality?”
“Because you’re too eager to pass judgment. Matteo told me that you don’t date, you don’t socialize. That you might as well be one of the marble busts scattered around the grounds for all the emotion you feel and—” She pressed a hand over her mouth, eyes flaring at her own daring.
“When it comes to me, Matteo told you nothing but truth.”
She turned to him, big brown eyes pinning him to the spot. “I’m sorry. It’s unfair to attack you. And yes, you’re right that Matteo and I finished months ago. You seem to have a knack for aggravating me like no one else.” She sighed. “Would a little kindness be too much?”
“Is that what you want, Ms. Fischer? A shoulder to cry on? Would it make you feel better if I took you in my arms and whispered sweet little lies that all of this was a bad dream? A small obstacle in your grand love story?”
“Oh…you are unbelievable.”
Pushing her hands through her hair, she bundled it into a messy knot. Wavy tendrils defied her efforts, kissing her jaw.
Her breasts rose and fell, and Alessandro was perversely grateful for the color it brought back to her cheeks.
He’d rather she think him an unfeeling monster than become the lost waif she’d been minutes ago.
Her mouth twisted in an angry snarl as she covered the distance between them.
“What I’d prefer is…” she poked him in the chest “…is for the return of my trust back to me.”
“Ahhh, that I cannot do,” he said clamping his fingers over her wrist. Her fingers folded into a fist, the knuckles pressing against his chest. “But if you would like to use me as a punching bag for life’s disappointments, I volunteer. I’m familiar with that role, thanks to Matteo.”
Her mouth dropped open, her fist resting against his chest. “That’s horrible.
” Her outrage deflated as fast as it had come.
“You’re right that Matteo and I finished months ago, and in truth we should have ended long before that.
But for him to move on so quickly, and to have started seeing her before we actually ended things…
It’s not like I can compare to a billionaire heiress. ”
“Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you,” he bit out through clenched teeth.
She side-eyed him and sighed. “For an annoying stranger I just met, you are far too right. But it’s not self-deprecation. There are a lot of things I couldn’t give Matteo, and I accepted it long ago.”
Alessandro frowned at the ring of truth in her words. “Ms. Fischer—”
“I’d rather you don’t suddenly become warm and cuddly, Mr. Ricci.”
“And I’d rather you rage at me again than fall apart. I have a severe allergy to tears.”
The sound that escaped her mouth was half cry, half laughter. “Was that a joke?”
Alessandro felt as if he’d achieved a personal milestone, when the doors burst open and closed with a hard thud.
Matteo’s gaze swept over them, lingering on Alessandro’s jacket over her shoulders.
Ms. Fischer jerked around. A reddish tint crested her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her midriff in a gesture he recognized as defensive.
“Sam…cara mia, you’re here,” Matteo said. “One of the staff said they saw a woman wandering around looking lost. I recognized you from the description immediately. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I have been busy for the last few months.”
Ms. Fischer—Alessandro refused to call her Sam even in his mind—stared at Matteo.
“Of course you’re busy, Matteo, preparing for your engagement.
Did you think I’d come up here and cause a scene if you told me?
Or is it that you thought I’d never have the guts to leave my parents behind, to live my life as any normal person would? ”
Alessandro frowned. It was clear she was throwing Matteo’s words back at him.
Matteo raised his hands. “Give me a chance to explain.”
His jacket slipped from Ms. Fischer’s shoulders as she thrummed with anger.
“Nothing to explain. Apparently, as much of a na?ve fool that I am, I had the sense to know that our relationship had stagnated. But it was such a hit to your ego that you went and got engaged to your billionaire heiress immediately, right?”
Matteo came to her with urgent strides. Alessandro barely fought the urge to stop his brother from touching her. Instead, he bolted the door.
“How long did you play us both?” Ms. Fischer said. “You even had the gall to mention her to me, but you never had the courage to end things with me even though we both knew it had run its course.”
Matteo bent his head toward her. “Sam, I—”
“Go back to your party.” Ms. Fischer, it seemed, hid a spine of steel beneath the na?veté.
Alessandro rested his hip against the large desk, his fury now a slow burn. “Listen to her, Matteo.”
Matteo whipped around. “Stay out of this.”
“Vittorio could have been standing right next to me when you burst in here, you fool. Or any one of Angelina’s thuggish cousins.”
The flash of fear in Matteo’s eyes said he understood the warning. “I should have checked.” He cast a glance at Sam, his jaw tight. “Let’s talk in private.”
“You have lost your mind, as usual,” Alessandro said, straightening from the desk.
“Do not forget that I’m the only thing standing between you and the Bianchis if they find out about your girlfriend on the other side of the pond.
Even if it is over now, they won’t like the crossover.
You’re lucky Ms. Fischer didn’t run around the party calling out your name. ”
“You can’t understand,” Matteo said with a sneer.
“No? You’ve been playing with both Angelina and Ms. Fischer. And while Ms. Fischer might forgive you, Angelina will not.”
“Don’t you dare lecture me—”
“I dare?” Alessandro’s anger slipped its leash. “You slipped a two-million-dollar ring onto Angelina’s fingers not an hour ago.”
“I can’t explain it. Not that you’ll ever understand because you don’t have a heart.
” His brother faced him, his mouth turned into a sneer.
It had been always like this: Matteo messed up, and he cleaned up.
And yet nothing but resentment festered in his brother’s heart for him.
“Half an hour in your company and you turned her against me.”
“Stop it, Matteo,” Ms. Fischer whispered, her expression stricken. “You did this. You’ve made me doubt our whole relationship, doubt myself.”
A knock sounded, a sudden boom amidst their ridiculous standoff. “Matteo, are you in there?” came Angelina’s voice.
Ms. Fischer’s head jerked in Alessandro’s direction, eyes wide.
She trusted him. Which meant he could get them all out of this predicament before Vittorio decided his family’s honor had been insulted. Or that Matteo needed to be taught a lesson.
“Papà wants to give us our engagement present,” called out Angelina.
Another knock came hard on the heels of her voice. “Alessandro? Is Matteo with you?” The voice of Vittorio Bianchi thundered through the hardwood. “My nephew said he saw a woman in your office. Who is it?”
Alessandro cursed. “If he even gets a whiff of you two-timing his daughter,” he whispered to Matteo, “Vittorio will break your knees. I am so angry I don’t think I’ll stand in his way. So go along with what I say.” He flicked a glance toward Ms. Fischer. “Come here, Ms. Fischer.”
Matteo’s glare turned sullen.
Fortunately, Ms. Fischer possessed more common sense than his brother.
When she came close enough for him, Alessandro softened his tone.
“Let them think you’re mine. A certain familiarity will be required.
” He ignored the possessive satisfaction that ran through him as he made the claim.
Cristo, he was acting worse than Matteo.
She leaned against the desk like him, leaving too much space between them. “I don’t want Matteo to get into trouble.” Her lush rose scent made every muscle in him curl with want. “Nor do I want to cause Ms. Bianchi distress.”
Alessandro felt a fresh surge of tenderness for her soft heart.
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her close.
Instant heat uncurled through his middle, spreading to his limbs.
Her waist was tiny, the flare of her hip where his fingers landed a sharp delineation.
But there was a lean strength to her that entranced him.
Every inch of him was aware of every point of contact between them. He wanted to deepen it until she could no more think of Matteo than Alessandro could think of another woman.
She was a complication, he reminded himself. A walking, talking disaster waiting to blow up in their faces. The faster he got her out of their lives, the better for everyone involved. Including her.
And yet, he knew, with a deep conviction, that he would do everything in his power to keep her around. At least, until he could figure out what about her fascinated him so.