Chapter Two #2
The small courtyard that had seemed perfectly serviceable, suddenly felt constrictive and entirely impossible for two people.
She had a seesawing sense of déjà vu as she looked up into his eyes, the world tilting just a little, just enough to nearly have her swaying on her feet.
Without a word, his arm appeared, not reaching for her, but at her side for her to take if she needed it.
Oddly, the gallant gesture reminded her of Gio Gallo.
Instead, she rolled her shoulders, and smiled. Or at least, Rin smiled.
‘Excitement and breakfast. Why, Mr Rossetti, you really are spoiling me.’
She held out her arm for him to take.
He looked down at her arm and for a moment she wondered whether she saw hesitation in his gaze. A slight quirk of his brow, before it was masked completely by a look that could hold no other description than mischievous.
‘Oh, Ms Carter, you have no idea,’ he relied with a toothy grin.
He’d brought Erin Carter to a small café, out of the way of the tourists that filled the main drag on Capri from the time the first boat moored in the port, to the last. The waiter that showed them to their table had nearly had a heart attack when he’d caught a glimpse of Erin Carter’s very long legs.
He knew the feeling. Still, Enzo had glared at the man, the warning to control himself understood, if the hasty head-ducked-apology was anything to go by.
Erin was telling him about the places she’d visited since arriving on the island, and he listened only with one ear.
Money . She must be after his money. She wasn’t the first, but she would be the last if he had anything to do with it.
The hastily formed plan beginning to take shape in his mind would make sure that no one would dare mess with him again.
He needed time to do this properly, but he also couldn’t let her escape.
‘Oh yes, I totally agree,’ he inserted into a suitable break in the conversation, as she relayed a stereotypical tourist experience of Capri. ‘Have you been up to Monte Solaro?’ he asked.
‘I don’t really like heights,’ she confessed with a genuine enough grimace and continued to describe where else she had been. He tuned out the highlights of her holiday so far and instead took her in.
Unquestionably beautiful, she had long rich red hair—almost dark enough to be auburn—that shone like rubies in the morning light. She was tall and lean, rather than the curves he was used to finding pleasure in.
She shifted, pulling at the near indecently low-cut shirt, her discomfort subtle but evident, making him wonder if she had worn it for him.
That perhaps this was something she believed that he might like.
He only just managed to stifle the bark of laughter at a woman so determined to get her hands on money that she would put herself out so much.
But if that was the case then she had very much misread him.
While the press usually portrayed many of his companions as vapid and brainless, they were wrong.
Agata and Svetlana were currently on attachment with the UN, and many of his previous lovers were either businesswomen or powerful global players in their own right.
However, this did not fit the image that the world’s press preferred to paint of him.
An image that Erin Carter seemed to be trying to fit into at this present moment in time.
As she tried to pull discreetly at the hem of her shorts, there was—he admitted—the smallest possibility that he’d misunderstood the conversation he’d overheard in the courtyard.
That he’d somehow got his wires crossed.
It was possible, he forced himself to concede.
Even though it rarely happened, if ever, and he was one hundred percent sure of what he’d heard.
Perhaps he needed to put Erin to the test, he thought as she expounded the many glamorous things she’d done since arriving on Capri, fluttering her eyes, and giggling in a slightly grating high-pitched way.
It was generous to give her the benefit of the doubt, he thought, giving himself a pat on the back for being so gracious.
‘So, tell me about Erin Carter,’ he said, putting his espresso cup down and leaning back in his chair, all the better to see her every action and reaction.
Her mouth hung open just a fraction and he realised that he’d been so focused on his thoughts that he’d interrupted her. Irritation quickly masked, she shrugged her shoulder, the move causing the shirt to slide a little down her arm.
Intentional? Likely.
‘Oh, there’s not much to tell,’ she said coquettishly.
It would, of course, be nothing for him to find out more about Erin Carter. He had the money and connections to root out every single fact about her.
But this would be more fun.
And, he realised, this was fun. Pitting his intellect against a worthy opponent. It wasn’t as if it would interfere with his summer plans. The next three weeks at least were free and clear.
‘I don’t believe that, Erin. Marcus wouldn’t invite a nobody to the party,’ Enzo insisted, though he was beginning to suspect that Marcus hadn’t invited her.
His gaze narrowed on the slight straightening of her posture. Mmm. No, it was unlikely that Marcus had invited her at all. Internally, he grinned.
‘Rin, please call me Rin,’ she said, with a seductive grin that momentarily short-circuited his brain.
He nodded. ‘Rin,’ he confirmed, honestly not caring what she chose to call herself. ‘What do you do, Rin?’
‘Oh, as little as possible,’ she said flirtatiously. ‘I like shopping, travelling, partying ,’ she said.
All the things that anyone who’d read half a dozen newspapers about him would think that he’d like.
‘And what about you, Enzo? What do you like?’
‘Games,’ he said with a little more vehemence than necessary. ‘I like to win.’ He’d lost too much in his childhood to allow anything less.
‘How deliciously... aggressive ,’ Rin replied as if it most certainly was not.
Enzo let loose the laugh that built in his chest. Her eyes were her tell. They were what gave her away.
‘Oh, but it can be so much fun, Erin. Especially with a willing partner.’
‘Well, happy day that they’re not un willing,’ she replied, her tone just a little tart.
He slapped the table. ‘Oh, you’re just delightful!’
She’d jumped a little at his exuberance.
But he saw how her gaze landed on his wristwatch, widening in recognition at the expensive item.
‘Where in England are you from? I want to know everything about you,’ he insisted, pulling her attention back to him.
‘I grew up in London.’
Would she feed him some sob story? A family that had wealth—because that was evident in the way she moved, in the way she talked, despite the words coming out of her mouth. She’d had money at some point. And presumably was after it again.
‘And is that where you live now?’
‘I...am staying with friends. They’re currently out of the country and it’s so convenient to be on the river,’ she said offhandedly.
The Thames; the lifeblood of London. But he’d noticed her hesitation.
A lie , he decided.
‘And you?’ she asked in return.
‘Where do I live? Wherever the winds take me,’ he said, and shrugged.
He’d never owned a property, had never really seen the point of it.
After all, he’d quickly learned that it was something that could be taken away in a heartbeat.
He’d stopped counting the houses he’d lived in with his parents when they sent him to boarding school.
Between the new starts and the divorces, they hadn’t stayed anywhere longer than eight months.
‘So, you just flit from place to place?’ she asked, apparently genuine curiosity in her gaze.
‘ Flit ?’
‘Ah, move around a lot,’ she clarified.
He knew what it meant, after all he’d spent three years at university in England, but he was quite happy to play the fool if that would help him achieve his aim.
And that aim? To make sure that Erin Carter paid for thinking she could take advantage of him like that.
To make her punishment so big and so loud that no one would do such a thing again.
A sunbeam bounced, once again, off the obnoxiously expensive watch on Enzo’s wrist and right into Erin’s face, causing her to blink, and she shifted in her chair.
Only when she did that, the damned shirt gaped and she had to pull it back to protect what little was left of her modesty.
She bit back a curse. She didn’t think she’d be able to dress like this again.
She’d already burned the backs of her practically bare thighs on the metal chair when she sat down.
‘I guess you could say that I like to flit,’ Enzo said with what he surely believed to be a winning smile. ‘And are you about to flit?’ he asked.
She opened her mouth to say no, when she realised that she needed to move to Step Two of the plan. Rin was doing well, had caught Enzo’s attention, but now Rin needed to play a little hard to get.
‘Well, there’s a party in Spain that—’
‘No! Non è possible ,’ he said. ‘I cannot allow it.’
‘Why not?’ she asked, a little alarmed by the vehemence of his response.
‘Because I need you,’ he implored. ‘I want to see Italy, to see this beautiful place of my ancestors through your eyes...it would,’ he said, laying it on a little thick, ‘give me life .’
Good god, what a line , Erin thought. Does that really work on women?
‘Maybe...’ Rin dangled. She couldn’t make it too easy for him.
And then she looked into his imploring gaze and despite herself, she saw it. The handsome Italian billionaire, the charm, the attraction...
‘Tell me you can stay,’ he cajoled.
‘I couldn’t possibly,’ Rin demurred coyly.
‘Oh, but you could ,’ he insisted, just as she’d hoped he would.
‘I’ve been positively bored for the last few weeks.
You could join me on my tour of the coast. We’ll go to Positano, Amalfi and then on to Sorrento, it will be marvellous!
I just can’t wait to show it all to you. We can start tomorrow. Sì ?’
Rin bit her lip and nodded.
‘Wonderful. I will pick you up at nine am.’
‘Really?’ Erin asked, as if it had all been that simple.
‘Yes. And wear something... else ,’ he said, casting an eye over her clothes.
Oh, she’d definitely be doing that. Erin couldn’t pull her plan off dressed like this.
It was too uncomfortable and distracting.
But despite that, this morning had been more than she could possibly hope for.
The chance to get Enzo on his own, away from other distractions.
Step Three already achieved and she’d only been in Italy three days! She couldn’t wait to tell Sam.
Enzo reached a hand into the air and clicked his fingers and Erin tried to hide the flinch of disdain that shivered down her spine.
Her father had done that when she was younger.
Ordered people around as if he was better than them, than anyone.
But he hadn’t been. It had all been lies.
And when those lies had come tumbling down, his promises as empty as their bank accounts, she and her mother had been forced to go it alone, in a new home in a new area.
Erin would never allow herself to be that dependent on a man. Ever. And Charterhouse was how she’d do it. For her mother. For herself. Once she got Charterhouse back, everything would be okay.
The waiter came with the bill, and a profusion of Italian passed between Enzo and the man before he bobbed his head and scurried away. Enzo reached for his wallet and retrieved an unnecessarily thick wad of notes before throwing them carelessly onto the table.
‘Well, then it’s settled,’ he said launching himself up from his chair, startling her a little. Again . The man was entirely too unpredictable.
He escorted her back to her hotel, for which she was almost thankful.
The high wedge heels were a balancing act on the narrow cobbled tourist-filled streets.
Arriving at the door to the small boutique hotel, he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips gently and slowly enough for her to stop him if she wanted to.
For just a moment, his eyes locked on hers, his lips hovering above the back of her hand, her heart thumped painfully in her chest.
Oh.
This was the charm. This was the Playboy of Amalfi.
This was the man she needed to be wary of. Because while Rin could handle a man like Enzo Rossetti, she wasn’t sure that Erin Carter could.