held her breath as he moved closer to the bed. She was forced to tilt her head up to look at him; her head swam as the magnitude of his persona hit her full force.
‘You may have forgotten the small print in the contract you signed, Carla, so I’ll refresh your memory. It included my company, and therefore me, being made aware of and taking steps to ameliorate any new medical issues that might adversely affect our agreement. You being out of commission for several weeks has the potential to reflect badly on our association. Unless I choose to be...magnanimous.’
Carla managed to pry her gaze from the sensual mouth that dripped poison onto her skin. ‘I’m sorry that my accident inconveniences you.’
‘It’s unfortunate, yes, but I’m willing to work with you provided you don’t resort to stubbornness. Or perhaps you wish me to get my lawyers to pry that information from the hospital administrators?’
‘How dare you?’ she breathed.
Javier’s narrow-eyed gaze flicked to the doctor and nurse who watched them with unabashed curiosity. ‘If you’ve finished, Doctor, perhaps I can speak to Miss Nardozzi in private? You have my assurance that we’ll reach agreement about the best way forward for her aftercare.’
Carla’s heart climbed into her throat as the doctor nodded almost reverently before leaving, trailed by the nurse, who most unwillingly pried her eyes from Javier’s body.
The moment the door shut behind them, the private hospital room shrank. Every inch of her focus zeroed in on the man who stood watching her in utter, dread-inducing silence, dark eyes piercingly intense.
Slowly, inexorably, his gaze wandered over her, lingering in places that made her breath catch.
She became hyperaware of the thin, insubstantial hospital gown and blanket that covered her body. The almost debilitating weakness in her limbs that had nothing to do with her health and everything to do with how this man made her feel just by being in the same room as her.
It’d been that way from the moment they met, three years ago, in Miami. The weekend from hell was firmly engraved in her mind. A naive twenty-one-year-old, striking out against the rigours that battened her down. A dangerously captivating man who’d represented the exact opposite of the caution she should’ve exercised that night, he’d been like a blazing comet in her dark world.
Except with morning had come the brutal realisation that she’d risked much more than her independence.
‘Suddenly you have nothing to say?’
‘I have plenty to say,’ she rasped through a painful throat. ‘But you seem to be in the mood to throw your weight about. I thought I’d just wait until you tire yourself out.’
A grim smile chased across his lips. ‘Have you forgotten, cara? I don’t tire very easily. Especially when it comes to the things I’m passionate about.’
Raw heat replaced the weakness in her limbs, firing her blood and making her head pound.
He advanced a few final steps, and stared down at her. Then he reached for the water jug on her bedside table. Still keeping his eyes on her, he poured a glass of water, inserted a handy straw and held it to her lips.
‘Drink.’
She wanted to refuse. But her throat hurt. She was beyond thirsty. And getting back on her feet as quickly as possible was imperative. She couldn’t begin to take control of her life from a hospital bed.
She dropped her gaze from his imperious regard, and parted her lips. Sucking on the straw, she drew the cool water into her mouth and shuddered with relief as the soothing liquid assuaged her ravaged throat.
He let her draw another mouthful, then he pulled the straw away. ‘Take it easy, you don’t want to make yourself ill again.’
The sound that emerged from her throat felt blissfully less abrasive. ‘Your audience is gone. Please stop pretending you care about my health.’
He returned the glass to the nightstand. ‘The state of your health is directly connected to the millions I stand to lose if you don’t meet the terms of your contract. Trust me, there’s no pretence on my part. Tell me what happened with your trainer.’
Carla frowned as the unwanted memory sliced across her thoughts. She’d let her emotions get the better of her. Had refused to listen to her instincts even though she’d known training with Tyson Blackwell had been a mistake. Hell, her agent and friend, Draco, had warned her repeatedly about Blackwell.
Further regret made her purse her lips. ‘He was a mistake that never should’ve happened.’
The moment the words left her lips, she felt the blood drain from her face. It took a single glance at Javier to see that he was just as affected by the words.
They were almost identical to what she’d said to him three years ago. The dark curl of his unbelievably sensual lips condemned her poor choice of words.
‘I... I meant—’
‘I’m well aware of what you meant. You seem to make a habit of collecting and leaving a trail of mistakes in your wake. You asked me what I was doing here. It’s quite simple, querida. It’s time to honour the promise I made to you a month ago.’
CARLA’S STOMACH HOLLOWED. ‘What is that supposed to mean?’
He didn’t answer for a minute. Instead, he strolled to the single window that let in bright sunlight, glanced out for a moment, then turned.
If anything, his silhouette was even more formidable, his almost god-like stature drawing her gaze to his captivating frame.
‘The reason you were chosen to be the face of the J Santino luxury line was because you’re an expert at blending the illusion of innocence with ruthless ambition.’
‘If there’s a compliment in there you expect me to thank you for, I’ll need a moment or two to think about it,’ she replied.
The haloed outline of his shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘The results speak for themselves. Or at least they used to.’
‘Is there a point to all this?’
‘Your choices lately have been...disappointing, to say the least.’
‘My choices?’
‘You dragged out your negotiations with Draco Angelis’s agency until he threatened to walk away. I’m guessing you realised, almost too late, that playing hard to get with him would get you nowhere? Then you insisted on associating yourself with a trainer whose reputation should’ve made you stay well clear of him.’
Carla swallowed hard against the need to tell him why. But she could see no way to set the record straight without pointing a direct finger at her father. And in a way, hadn’t she also been at fault for desperately clinging to a familial bond that was only in her mind? ‘My last trainer retired. Tyson Blackwell was only supposed to be temporary—’
‘He was known to push his trainees too hard. You should’ve had nothing
