Modern Romance June 2016 Books 5-8. Tara Pammi

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Modern Romance June 2016 Books 5-8 - Tara Pammi


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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.

      Another shiver rippled over her. ‘No, the clauses agreed upon are fine.’

      Her father exhaled. ‘Carla—’

      ‘Everything is fine.’ She struggled to keep her voice from wobbling through the lie as tension escalated in the room. ‘Can we get on with it, please?’

      Javier’s gaze sharpened. ‘You understand that, due to the delay in getting this signed, the cooling-off period will no longer apply? This contract, once signed, will be final and binding.’

      Her fingers started to curl into her palms. Inhaling deeply, she placed them on the cool surface of the table and strove for composure. ‘Yes. I really don’t see why we’re going over this again. My lawyers have explained everything to me. I’m ready to sign your document. All I need, Mr Santino, is a pen.’

      If she’d been expecting a reaction, Carla realised she would be sorely disappointed. His gaze flicked with almost cruel lack of interest from her to his lawyers. An imperious nod, and the documents were produced and laid out before them. An elegant ball pen bearing his name arrived before her.

      Shakily, she picked it up, signed and countersigned where indicated. The contracts were witnessed and exchanged. And her fate was sealed.

      She would become the exclusive face of carefully selected J Santino products, called upon for advertising campaigns and publicity events whenever he chose.

      It was done. With any luck, she could now negotiate further time with the bank back in Tuscany and save her family home. Not that it’d ever been a real home. These days it was more a showpiece property for her father to bask in the success he claimed she wouldn’t have achieved without him.

      But it was the only remaining roof over her head. The New York condo was gone, as was the chalet in Switzerland. Everything was gone.

      Carla set the pen down and stood. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr Santino. Now if you’ll excuse us—’

      ‘You’re not free to go just yet, Miss Nardozzi.’

      Her breath stumbled as Javier rose with fluid grace.

      She stared up at him, meeting that stony expression once more. ‘What...what more could we possibly have to discuss?’

      A tight smile pursed his lips. ‘It’s confidential. Come into my office.’ His gaze flicked over the table’s occupants in a dismissive glance. ‘Alone.’

      Without waiting for a response, he headed for a set of double doors opposite from where she’d entered.

      Her palms grew hot and she fought the urge to rub them against her thighs. Every instinct screamed at her to get up and walk out. She’d made it this far relatively unscathed. She’d seen Javier again, withstood his imposing presence, heard his voice, inhaled that singularly unique scent without losing her composure. What she’d dreaded most was over.

      Yet she couldn’t move.

      ‘Now, Miss Nardozzi,’ Javier insisted in cutting tones.

      The atmosphere shifted again, men in expensive suits fidgeting beneath ricocheting tension.

      ‘Carla,’ her father’s warning tone rumbled over her.

      She ignored him, looking past him to the doors that led to freedom. Could Javier stop her from leaving? From retreating back to that numb place where she was marginally cocooned from pain and betrayal?

      Yes. Because she was now bound to him, a contracted employee who couldn’t refuse reasonable requests.

      Swallowing the hysterical laugh that rose in her throat, she stood, ignoring the collective muted sighs of relief that floated round the table.

      Carla entered Javier’s office and drew to a stunned stop. Unlike the rest of his company’s workspace, this was an unapologetically masculine domain. From the massive walnut desk and throne-like armchair set back against a solid wall, to the studded black sofas grouped around a glass and gold TV and entertainment centre on one side, the space shrieked a dominance that made her flesh tighten with acute premonition.

      But no.

      So far Javier had been cold and brutally businesslike. Uninterested in her, other than as another financial asset for his company. She had nothing to fear.

      Behind her the door swung shut, followed by another distinct click.

      Her gaze flew to Javier, to the tiny remote in his hand. A second later, he flung the control away, then advanced towards her with slow, precise strides. Her breath uselessly trapped in her lungs, Carla tilted her head to meet his gaze and the blood rushed from her head in a dizzying surge.

      Because those mesmeric eyes were no longer cold. No longer impersonal. A very specific, very dangerous light blazed in their depths. A light that threatened to stop her heart altogether.

      ‘At long last, here you are,’ he murmured.

      The savouring, triumphant statement made every nerve in her body jump.

      ‘Here I am? What does that mean?’ she retorted, fully aware her voice was bled of any power.

      He stepped closer, amplifying his power and might by a thousand degrees. ‘It means I never thought this day would arrive. You won’t believe how many times I nearly threw in the towel. But revenge is a dish best served cold. Isn’t that what they say?’

      Ice filled her veins. ‘Revenge?’

      He bent his head closer, as if sharing a salacious secret. ‘Luckily, I’m a very patient man,’ he whispered. ‘I knew, sooner


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