Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections. Кейт Хьюит
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he said as he bent and kissed her on both cheeks while a tidal wave of flame rolled through her, “I am there.”
The party, it turned out, was being held in a villa nearby. Faith slept for a couple of hours, and then dressed in a figure-skimming red cocktail dress with a halter top that kept her modest and a pair of silver strappy heels that made her feel like a princess. She’d asked Renzo why she needed to go along earlier when they were working, and he’d looked at her with that gorgeous broody look he got and told her she was going because he’d realized after the Stein’s party that she was good repellant.
“Repellant?” she’d asked, certain her puzzled frown must have amused him.
“Female repellant,” he’d deadpanned before going on to explain that he did not need the distractions of women in his life right now.
“And what am I?” Faith murmured as she studied herself in the mirror. Especially when she considered the way he’d told her that he was across the hall if she needed anything.
Anything, he’d stressed. Faith shivered as she remembered the feel of his lips on her cheeks, the imprint of his fingers on her arms.
Renzo D’Angeli was a very confusing man, she decided. And very sexy, a little voice added.
Faith ran the brush through her hair one last time. She didn’t look half-bad, though she still wasn’t in the same league as the Katie Palmers of the world. Her hair was smooth and golden, hanging down her back in a lustrous fall, and her eyes really stood out with the addition of eye shadow, liner and mascara.
It was her in the mirror, and not her. Her as she’d never been, she amended. She hadn’t been allowed to wear makeup when she was growing up, and she’d never been allowed to do anything with her hair other than leave it long. As the daughter of a preacher, she’d been required to be as plain and circumspect as possible.
Until the day she hadn’t been.
Faith turned away from the mirror and grabbed her wrap and tiny purse. Then she hurried downstairs to meet Renzo. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the butler came forward to greet her in impeccable English.
“Signorina,” he began, “Signore D’Angeli had business to attend to in town. He asked me to let you know that he would meet you at the party.”
“Grazie,” Faith replied, her heart sinking.
She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going alone, but she went outside to get into the waiting car. The ride didn’t last long, but since it was dark she didn’t see anything along the way, until they arrived at a grand villa with lights spilling out of the windows and people mingling on the grounds and inside the house.
Faith exited the car and stood with her purse clutched to her body like a shield while the chauffeur drove away. Her pulse was tripping along recklessly and she took deep breaths, telling herself not to freak out. There was no sign of a photographer anyhow, was there? Perhaps arriving alone was a good thing, since Renzo was the main attraction for paparazzi. If she just stayed in the background, she would be fine.
“Buona notte,” a voice said before a man strolled toward her from the garden.
“H-hello,” she said as he stepped into the light. If Renzo was the most handsome man on the planet, then this man was surely second. He was tall, broad and lean—and she knew who he was. She’d seen his picture in the same motorcycle magazines in which she’d seen Renzo’s.
“Ah, English,” he said. “You are American, no?”
Faith swallowed. “Yes.”
The man held out his hand. “Niccolo Gavretti. But you can call me Nico.”
“I know who you are,” Faith said as she accepted his handshake. “I’m Faith Black.”
Nico’s handsome face split in a grin. “Ah, Faith, I have heard of you. Renzo’s prized secretary, yes?” His dark gaze slid down her body. “I see why he keeps you hidden away in America. Bella.”
Faith extracted her hand when he tried to hold it for longer than necessary. “No one keeps me hidden. I’ve only worked for Mr. D’Angeli for six months.”
Nico didn’t stop smiling. “Better and better,” he said. “And yet I am glad you are here now.”
“I don’t see why you should be,” she said. He was incredibly handsome, but he didn’t make her heart throb the way Renzo did. He was, like Renzo, a player of the worst sort. Women flowed in and out of his bed like water from a faucet.
He laughed. “You are a beautiful woman. Why should I not be? Unless, of course, you are spoken for already?”
Faith felt herself reddening, though she knew he was only flattering her because it was as second nature to him as breathing. “If you will excuse me, I need to find my boss.”
“I will take you to him,” Nico said, offering his arm. “You will never find him in this crush without help.”
Faith hesitated. It was true the place was overrun with elegantly dressed people. And she spoke no Italian. She’d found a man who spoke English, and who knew Renzo. But she seemed to remember reading that Nico and Renzo were rivals on the track. And she knew for a fact that Renzo was determined to bring out his latest production bike before Gavretti Manufacturing could unveil theirs.
“Afraid of what Renzo will say?” Nico asked.
Faith lifted her chin. “No, of course not.”
“Then come with me, bella, and we will find him.”
Renzo arrived at the party later than he’d thought he would. But he’d gotten a call from one of his investors and he’d needed to go into Florence for a meeting. He’d fully intended to be back by the time Faith left, but he was nearly an hour late. She would, no doubt, be furious with him. He’d sent her into this gathering alone when he should have gone back for her and to hell with the time.
Now, he stood at the edge of the glittering crowd congregating in the garden and scanned it for a sighting of her. He knew she was here because Ennio had still been out front with the car when he’d arrived. Since Renzo had driven his own car, he’d sent Ennio home and then come to look for Faith. He’d tried calling her mobile phone, but she was not answering.
The hostess smiled when she saw him. “Renzo, darling, we’re so glad you’ve returned to Italia,” Filomena Mazzaro said. “How is the new motorbike coming along?”
Renzo didn’t feel like talking to anyone until he found Faith, but he chatted for a moment before asking if Filomena had seen her. Filomena’s brows drew together. “I don’t remember greeting her, no. But I am sure she is here, darling. We have so many people tonight.”
Renzo excused himself after a few more moments and continued the search. He should have asked Faith what she was planning to wear tonight, but how well would that have worked? She was a woman, and no doubt had changed her dress at least three times before deciding.
He drew up short when he spotted Niccolo Gavretti. He’d known Gavretti would be here, but he didn’t particularly feel like dealing with the man tonight.
Perhaps he wouldn’t have to. Gavretti was standing with a blonde in a red dress, and he seemed engrossed in her. He had his hand on her shoulder as he smiled down at her. He looked as if he wanted to kiss her, but she took a step to the side the moment his head dipped. Renzo laughed to himself. He couldn’t see the blonde’s face because the instant she’d stepped aside, a light had shone straight into his eyes, silhouetting her form.
She was, of course, voluptuous. He could tell that much. She had full, lush breasts and a nipped-in waist that flared out again in generous hips. Her legs were long and lovely, her feet encased in delicate shoes with glittery silver straps. Everything a woman ought to be, he decided. Gavretti had excellent taste, as he well knew from the days when they used to prowl the bars of Florence together, drinking and