Sleeping With The Enemy. Annie West
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country, according to everything Nico had heard.
His blood ran cold. Renzo might be done racing, but he wasn’t done with motorcycles. They were still rivals in business. And Renzo must want something pretty badly to send his sister to get it.
She was nervous. Tina stood by the window and watched the cars moving along the street below. She did not know if he would come. What if he didn’t? Did she dare to go to his offices and demand to be seen? Or should she try and see him at his country estate instead?
Except he had more than one country estate these days, didn’t he? It had been nearly two months since she’d seen him in Venice. In that short time, his father had died and Nico was now the marchese di Casari, a man of far more consequence than he’d been when he used to spend hours working in the garage with Renzo.
Would a man of his stature come to see her? He and Renzo had been enemies for far longer than they’d ever been friends. It was very likely that Nico remembered nothing of her. She’d been a gangly girl, quiet and shy, who had crept into the garage and watched them silently. She hadn’t been at all memorable.
But that was a lifetime ago, and now she stood here pregnant with his child. Tina sucked in a tearful breath. My God. How—how—had this happened? It had been one night, one erotic and beautiful night in which she’d behaved in a way so very unlike her.
She’d hated being so shy growing up, hated even more that no matter how much education she’d had or how hard she worked at being someone bold and sophisticated, she was still the same painfully timid girl inside. The one time she’d determined to push past her comfort zone, to really be bold, the consequences had been staggering.
If she’d known who her mystery man was, she would have fled sooner. Because she wouldn’t have been able to let herself go so thoroughly if she’d known that the man stripping her naked was the same man she’d dreamed about for most of her life.
When she was fourteen, she’d idolized him. He’d been twenty and so achingly handsome that he’d taken her breath away. She’d never learned to relax around him even though he was always nice to her. He’d smiled at her, and she’d turned into a stammering puddle every single time.
And then one day when she’d crept into the garage just to see his handsome face, he hadn’t been there. He’d never been there again, and Renzo had refused to talk about it. She’d lain in her room at night for months and prayed he would come back, but he never did.
There was a knock on the door and Tina jumped at the sound like a startled deer. Doubts assailed her. Should she even be here? Should she tell him her secret?
He would be furious. And quite possibly horrified.
But how could she not? He had a right to know he was going to be a father. A right to know his baby. She’d never known her own father and her mother had refused to tell her who he was, other than to say he’d been English. She would not do that to her own child, no matter how difficult this was.
Swiftly, she strode to the door and yanked it open before she could change her mind. The man on the threshold was tall, dark, gorgeous—a more mature version of the young man she’d fallen for so many years ago. Just seeing him again made sparks zing through her body.
He simmered with tension as his stormy gaze met hers. And then he dropped his eyes down her body, studying her so thoroughly that she blushed.
She’d chosen to wear a skirt with sky-high heels and a silk tank beneath her jacket for this meeting. She knew she looked elegant and competent, as she’d intended, but for a moment the hideously shy teenager was back.
“Valentina?” he said, his voice containing a note of disbelief, and a hint of that sexual magnetism she’d found so irresistible in Venice. How had she forgotten his voice over the years? She could have avoided the situation she was now in if she’d only remembered the silken beauty of his tone, and recognized him sooner.
“Yes. It’s lovely to see you again, Signore Gavretti.” She stepped back, her heart pushing into her throat. She’d spent a night of bliss in his arms, and he had no idea. Until that very moment, she’d half believed he would recognize her when he saw her. That somehow his soul would know she was the one he’d made love to.
But he did not, and it pierced her to the bone. Silly. He was a man, not a magician.
“Won’t you come in?”
He crossed the threshold, and for a moment an invisible hand closed around her throat. What had she done? Why had she thought she could handle him? She’d been unable to handle him that night. No, she’d done everything he’d wanted her to do. Willingly, eagerly, thoroughly—as if the shyness she hid from the world had ceased to exist.
Her body heated as the memories rushed through her. Skin against skin, heat against heat, hard against soft. What would he think of her when he knew?
Tina shoved the memories down deep and walked over to a serving cart. “Tea?” she asked, her hand shaking slightly as she reached for the pot. What she really wanted to do was grab a plate and fan herself with it.
“No.”
She poured herself a cup—decaf, of course—and turned to find him right behind her. She took an automatic step back. His stormy silver eyes were piercing, his expression hard and curious at once. She wanted to run her hand over his jaw, press her lips there the way she had that night … which seemed a lifetime ago.
“You didn’t ask me up here to have tea,” he said darkly. “Tell me what your brother wants and be done with it.”
Tina blinked, the warm feelings floating through her dissipating in an instant. “Renzo has no idea I’m here.” God, no. He’d be furious. Livid. He would probably disown her if he knew.
And he would know, eventually. But that was why she had to tell Nico first. If Renzo found out she were pregnant, he would demand to know the father. There would be hell to pay once he knew who that man was.
Tina set the tea down and pressed a hand to her forehead. It was a mess. A huge, huge mess. Somehow, she had to make it all come out right.
Nico’s smile was anything but friendly. “So this is how we are to play it then?” His gaze slid over her again. “You have grown into a lovely woman, Valentina. A great asset for your brother.”
Tina wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t show that much vulnerability to him. No, Renzo did not consider her an asset. More like a duty. He took care of her, loved her, but refused to consider she might have more to offer than simply being a decorative fixture in his life. She wanted to work for him, but he would not allow it.
“You are a D’Angeli,” he said. “You don’t have to work.”
No, she didn’t have to work. She wanted to work—and if her brother wouldn’t hire her, she was going to work for someone else. She’d gone along with Renzo for the past year, but only in the hopes she could convince him that D’Angeli Motors was where she belonged.
Though she’d graduated with honors in accounting and finance, the only thing she could do with her degree right now, aside from dabble in a few investments with the payouts from her trust fund, was balance her own checkbook.
It made her waspish. “You can hardly claim to know what is in Renzo’s mind these days, can you?”
He stared at her for a heartbeat, his expression hardening. She’d surprised herself by being so snappish. Apparently, she’d surprised him, too.
“Enough of the games. Tell me why you requested this meeting, or we’re through here.”
His tone stung. “You did not used to be so abrupt.”
“And you did not used to play games.”
Tina carried her tea to the couch. She sat gracefully as she’d been taught, and then took a tiny sip, hoping it would calm her suddenly roiling stomach. Perhaps she’d erred in not