for a business one. Even so, she appreciated the gesture.
“Thank you. That’s kind.”
His voice lowered and his gaze turned intense. “I say what I mean, signorina. If you need anything—anything—you have only to ask.”
He laid a hand over hers as he said it. His fingers were long and tapered, and adorned with one simple gold ring that bore a crest of some sort. The design wasn’t hers, but she admired the excellent workmanship. She focused on the ring, afraid to meet his gaze. She wasn’t sure which had her more discombobulated, the heat radiating from his hand or the fact that he clearly meant what he said. Either way, she was being foolish. She had to swallow twice before she could speak and change the subject.
“So, where did your travels take you this time?” As surreptitiously as possible, she pulled her hand free and picked up her coffee mug once again.
Tony wrote features for a travel magazine that catered to upscale tastes. In fact, he owned the magazine, as well as a couple of others, all of which were based in New York and aimed at people who had more money than they could spend in five lifetimes.
He knew his target audience well, since he counted himself among their elite number. From the chatter of her employees, Rachel knew that in addition to an estate in well-heeled Rochester Hills, which he considered home since it was close to where his family lived, Tony kept an apartment in Manhattan, another in Rome and had executive suites on reserve at luxury hotels in both Paris and London.
He didn’t need to work, but he’d once told Rachel that he enjoyed writing too much to sit back and let others have all the fun doing it for him. Rachel respected him for that, even if she didn’t exactly respect his playboy lifestyle. The man went through women the way some people went through napkins. Still, no one could argue he wasn’t generous with them, a fact she knew well since it benefited Expressive Gems’s bottom line.
“I spent most of my time in Milan with trips to London, Paris, Monaco, Berlin and Stockholm.”
“Is that all?” she drawled.
His shoulders rose at the same time the corners of his mouth turned down. The gesture was decidedly European. “I was working.”
“You found some time to play, I trust.”
His smile was quick and lethal. “I always find time to play. I would be a dull, dull boy otherwise. No?”
Dull and boy were two words Rachel would never think to use to describe the man before her. She cleared her throat. “So, what are you writing about now?”
“The best places to stay and dine during fashion week in each city, with a side piece on up-and-coming designers to watch.”
“I suppose you had to interview a lot of models for that.”
His careless shrug was at odds with his Casanova smile. “They have a unique perspective to offer.”
“One model in particular, I’m guessing.”
Again, the smile. “Astrid.”
Rachel pictured a long-limbed and graceful beauty. “And you are here today looking for something special to give her. A token of your affection and appreciation?”
“Pazzesco!” He flashed a smile. “You know me too well.”
Actually, what Rachel knew was his type. Tony was a lot like her absentee father, who’d left her mother when Heidi was barely out of diapers. Griff Preston had popped in and out of his daughters’ lives since then, showering them with gifts that were a poor substitute for his time and affection.
“So, what are you thinking? A necklace? Perhaps a bracelet? Or maybe a pair of earrings?”
Tony never purchased a ring. Too much could be read in to that, he’d told her once, and she thought he had a point.
“A necklace, I think. Astrid has a lovely neck. It will make an exquisite showcase for one of your designs.”
Rachel pulled out a pad of paper to jot down some notes. Already, ideas were flashing in her mind. She loved this part of the process.
“Let’s talk about style. If you want to showcase her neck, perhaps a choker would be best. Something delicate, feminine. Maybe pearls, three or four rows, threaded together with silver wire.”
But he was shaking his head. “A choker sits too high.” He touched Rachel’s neck. “I want something longer that falls about here.” The tip of his finger glided slowly from the hollow of her throat to the lowest point visible in the V of her blouse. Her breath hitched.
“Ah. More of a pendant, then,” she managed.
“Yes. Something to draw attention to her other assets.”
“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about Astrid?” It was standard practice. It helped Rachel with the design process. But she also couldn’t help but be curious about the glamorous women Tony dated.
He rubbed his jaw. Even though he hadn’t shaved, the dark stubble that shaded his jaw didn’t do anything to detract from his appearance. “She’s very interested in astrology and numerology, tarot cards.”
“And her sign?” She said it tongue-in-cheek, but he answered with a straight face.
“Pisces.”
“What does she look like, other than being gorgeous, since that much is a given?”
“Well, she is Swedish. Pale, creamy skin.”
“Blonde?”
“Yes, with eyes nearly as blue as yours. Her lashes are not as lush, though.”
He’d noticed her eyes? Rachel made a little humming noise in the back of her throat before asking, “And how old is she?”
“Twenty-three.”
Ah. That made Astrid just a year younger than Mal’s secretary.
“She’s been modeling professionally since she was fourteen,” Tony was saying.
“Fourteen, hmm. Where are those child-labor laws when you need them?”
“You think she is too young for me.” His expression held more amusement than insult.
“I make no judgments,” she said hastily. Then she exhaled and shook her head. “At least I shouldn’t. I mean, who am I to judge anyone’s relationship?”
“I am sorry, carina.”
Embarrassed by her outburst as much as by the sympathy she saw in his eyes, Rachel got back to business.
“Does Astrid have a favorite gemstone?”
“Diamonds.” His laughter rumbled and he shook his head. “I think a warmer stone would suit her better.”
Tony never went for diamonds. He didn’t have to tell Rachel that, as with the purchase of a ring, too much could be read into that
