She stood.
“Close the door on your way out.”
She slammed it behind her.
I shook my head at the door. Rosa had an attitude, but she was effective. If luck was on our side, she’d have something for me before I saw Fabiana next.
I dragged my palms over my face and yawned. Fuck, I was tired. Sleep tugged on me despite my day being far from over. There were contracts to review, a call to a capo who’d been slacking that couldn’t wait another day, and that request from…
I shut my eyes.
Just for a minute or two.
Instead of the usual inventory of tomorrow’s problems, the film reel in my head began to run the other way.
Back to the green-eyed girl in the yellow silk dress who had stood in front of me, furious and beautiful, and told me she pitied me.
Amusement tugged on my lips at the memory. That little Nettle should have bored me. Girls like her usually did. Pretty, polished, and raised to smile through whatever men like me demanded of them.
But Fabiana hadn’t smiled. She’d pushed back.
I could still feel the brief press of her palm over my fingers when she took the ring box from me. Still hear that small hitch in her breath when my hand lingered too long against her chest.
I’d done it to unsettle her.
I hadn’t expected it to unsettle me.
And I sure as hell hadn’t expected to feel that brief spark of attraction. The kind I hadn’t felt in years.
The sooner I dealt with this problem, the better. While Rosa searched for something I could use against Fabiana, I needed to focus on the part of the plan already within my control. If my fiancée was determined to do her duty, I’d make sure that duty felt like a life sentence.
I’d be cold. Dismissive. Impossible to please.
The kind of man no woman in her right mind would choose to marry.
CHAPTER 4
FABIANA
“I wantyou to know that I’m always here for you,” Vita said once the waiter had taken our orders. She held her coffee cup in both hands, watching me with the warmth of a woman who had already decided she liked me. “If you ever need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Working at the UN, I’d met elegant women. Eloquent women. Women who knew how to command a room.
But Vita Ferraro? She was in a league of her own.
Now in her fifties, she was a retired runway model who’d never lost her slim figure or her ability to navigate the glistening marble floors of a restaurant in high heels. Her silver hair swished in a mesmerizing curtain behind her as she walked. We sat at a table by the window, and the sun caressed the flawless planes of her face like an old, greedy lover.
It was no wonder Gino Ferraro had fallen for her. Even after thirty years together, they had a famously strong marriage, unblemished by scandals or affairs. She also had a prominent role in the family business. Rafe had mentioned she’d recentlybecome the chairwoman of Ferraro Holdings, the company that handled the Ferraros’ legitimate business interests.
“That’s very kind of you,” I said. After my disastrous first meeting with Cosimo, we hadn’t managed to reschedule our lunch. Or, to be more accurate, his assistant had given me a date, then canceled it and told me he’d see me at our engagement party next week.
It was a relief that at least my lunch with his mom was going smoothly.
“I mean it.” She set the cup down on the saucer. “Marrying someone of Cosimo’s stature… It’s not an easy life to step into. But based on what I know about you, I’m sure you’ll adapt.”
Adapt. I smiled despite the word scraping against me. It sounded like something you said to someone about to start a diet.
“Is there anything in particular I should be aware of? In terms of what will be expected of me as Cosimo’s wife?”
