Signed Over To Santino. Maya Blake
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eased for a cracked moment, replaced with myriad volatile emotions as she stared at her father. Disappointment. Sadness. Anger. A deep and painful burgeoning acceptance that Olivio Nardozzi had a vastly differing definition of parental love than most normal fathers had for their children.
Bitterness surged high. ‘We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t gambled away—’
‘Don’t start this again, Carla.’ He stepped closer on the busy sidewalk so they wouldn’t be overheard by the trio of lawyers who’d accompanied them and now stood on the sidewalk, ready to escort her into Javier’s presence. ‘We have aired this out many times already. I don’t particularly want to air it once again, especially in public. You have an image to maintain. A faultless image we have both worked hard for. In less than an hour’s time, our financial worries will be on their way to being a thing of the past. We have to look forward.’
Look forward.
How could she when her immediate future entailed placing herself in the heart of the lion’s den? A lion whose deathly silence had been even more unnerving than the roar she’d expected at any point during these past three years?
Sucking in a shaky breath, she placed one foot in front of the other, walked through the revolving doors and stood in the lift as they were whisked upward.
The office décor of J Santino Inc. was the last thing Carla expected. Sure, the place pulsed with the core efficiency needed to run a billion-dollar enterprise. But while Carla had expected glass and chrome and futuristic art pieces, she exited the lift and stepped into a vibrant foyer with colourful walls, exotic flowers and employees relaxing on lounge chairs and giant futons. Exquisite Latin American art dotted the vast space, and she was unwillingly reminded of Javier’s passionate Spanish side.
Closing her mind to it, she followed a statuesque receptionist down a burgundy-carpeted hallway to a set of wide double doors, which swung open with an electric whine.
‘Mr Santino will be with you in a moment.’
Carla’s heart climbed into her throat as she entered a vast conference room.
Absently, she heard murmurs as her team took their seats, but she couldn’t think past the coming meeting, her insides twisting hard as she drifted past sumptuous chairs and a polished cherry-oak table towards wide windows with impressive views of Manhattan.
Would those gold-brown eyes that had snapped cold fire at her the last time they’d seen her still blaze with hatred? Over the last year, since she’d first been approached with the endorsement offer, she’d wondered why Javier Santino would want her anywhere near his company. Sure, her world-number-one-figure-skater status placed her in a certain would-kill-for echelon, but there were a few dozen other sports figures in a similar position. Despite her management’s insistence that she was being pursued because she was the right person for the job, she’d wondered whether it’d been a carefully set trap.
But not once had Javier attempted personal contact, choosing to communicate through his lawyers and executives. Folding her arms, Carla swallowed and allowed a little hope to grow. Maybe Javier had moved past the events of the morning after their night together. Perhaps the abhorrence she’d glimpsed during their fraught exchange, the deep trepidation that what had happened between them had been life-altering, and the long months following when a peculiar ache had lodged itself in her chest every time his name had crossed her mind, had all been in her overblown imagination.
Javier had moved on to other conquests, and had continued to aggressively pursue his work hard, party harder lifestyle if his presence in the tabloids was any indication.
So maybe her trepidation was for nothing, maybe she was just overthinking this—
‘Do you intend to conduct the meeting standing up, Miss Nardozzi?’
Carla flinched and turned at the flat, detached tone.
Her breath locked in her lungs, every cell in her body clenching in freeze frame as she stared at the man sauntering down the side of the conference table.
In a dark grey pinstriped suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and a white shirt and navy tie that screamed understated elegance, Javier Santino didn’t need the tough lawyers who flanked him to underscore his supremacy and importance. He was still hugely formidable and domineeringly sexy. His overpowering masculinity would continue to draw eyes to his sculptured cheekbones and uncharacteristically full mouth, which held a perpetual reddish tinge as if he’d been thoroughly and expertly kissed, long after he was well past his prime.
He stopped opposite her and, even across the vast polished surface, the sheer dominance of his aura slammed into her. Gold-flecked brown eyes pinned hers, one eyebrow lifted in cool, arrogant query.
Deep inside, past the numbness and the fear, something wild and hot and dangerous sparked to life, and she felt the ground shift beneath her feet.
She shouldn’t have come... Then again, what choice did she have?
‘Very well. I’ll take that as a yes.’ His gaze conducted an impersonal inspection of her face and body, then swung from her, releasing her from the disturbingly deep frisson that had taken hold of her. Striding to the head of the table, he pulled out a chair, unbuttoned his jacket in one deft move, and sat down. ‘Since you also didn’t answer my PA when she asked whether you wanted refreshments, I’ll assume you don’t want any?’ Javier continued, the deep, smooth tenor of his voice igniting the flame higher.
Carla swung her head towards the departing PA, her mind unfreezing itself long enough to wonder how long she’d been caught in the dangerous tide of the past.
‘No, I’m fine. Thank you.’ She raised her voice slightly to catch Javier’s PA. The woman turned and nodded with a cool smile before leaving the room.
‘Good. Shall we begin?’
The magnetism that had gripped her outside as she’d stared at Javier’s building returned full force. Her gaze returned to him, her heart beating faster as she stared at him.
There was no trace of the censure she’d expected, no hot-blooded Latin lip curl or even a hint of the fact that this man had seen her naked once, had done things to her body that still had the power to make her blood pound hot and hard through her veins.
He was going for impersonal. Stony. Businesslike.
As she shakily pulled out the chair he indicated to his right and sat down, Carla told herself it was okay to breathe in relief.
If Javier wanted to proceed with no acknowledgement of their past, then so would she. In fact, it was a brilliant thing. No need for further angst.
‘I believe everything’s been settled between our lawyers? You’re finally willing to agree to the quarterly payment terms and the performance-related incentives stipulated in the contract, correct?’
Carla dragged her eyes from Javier to glance at her father. She spied the haughty desperation there, the silent command that their dirty laundry not be aired. She wanted to rail at him, demand to know what had possessed him to gamble away all her money, to jeopardise everything she’d worked for and bring her to the brink of bankruptcy. She didn’t doubt that he’d have another blithe explanation, the callous hauteur he’d often displayed towards her as a child their only means of communication nowadays.
She glanced away again, deliberately numbing herself to the pain and disappointment. Steeling herself, she focused on Javier once more.
‘Yes, I agree to your terms.’
‘Unless, of course, there’s any way you’d reconsider a larger, upfront payment?’ her father suggested, squaring his shoulders as he planted his elbows on the table.
Javier’s gaze didn’t shift from her face. ‘No. If you came here under the pretext of signing the final agreement only to try and renegotiate the terms, then you’ve wasted all of our time. I sincerely hope that’s not the case, Miss Nardozzi.’ The cold edge in his tone matched the look in his eyes.
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