Gio’s heartstrings a little more? Have you already figured out that Gio’s an old fool who would love to see a little romance?”
“Stop, please. He’s not coming here. Frank’s out of my life,” Pia replied, a sick feeling in her stomach. She could see what Raphael was getting at. And that his suspicions had basis only increased her shame. “For one thing, I didn’t know until I got here that Gio was wealthy. I don’t care whether you believe that or not,” she pushed on, when she sensed he would interrupt again. Blasted man! “I was just happy to know that I had family. That I wasn’t alone...”
How could she make him understand how lonely she had been after Nonni’s death? How much Frank had played on that loneliness?
Or what Gio’s affection, his kindness meant to her. “And, yes, I’ll even admit that if Frank had learned that Giovanni Vito is Vito Automobiles, he probably would’ve—” she forced herself to say the horrible words “—married me and sealed off the deal so that he could suck the blood and marrow out of Gio.”
She shivered violently. Raphael silently draped another plush towel around her shoulders.
Pia thanked him, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. She didn’t want his kindness. She didn’t want anything from this man.
“I need details about this Frank person.”
She nodded. “Will you leave me alone then?”
“What Giovanni did—”
“The money he gave me, it’s a loan. I didn’t take a dollar more than the debt. And I intend to pay off every single cent.” She pulled her towel snug around her chest. “Your relationship with Gio, his affection for you, that’s the only reason I told you. You and I have nothing to do with each other, Mr. Mastrantino.”
* * *
She was wrong.
Whether she was Gio’s granddaughter or not, whether she was disconcertingly naive or a cunning con woman, Pia was going to be his problem.
Lashes spiked with small water drops, her damp hair curling wispily against her face, she looked incredibly young. And even with her declaration that she’d learned her lesson, there was still something very naive about her.
It was disconcerting how much he wanted to believe her.
There was grief in those big luminous eyes of hers, an earnestness that beguiled him.
But more than that, he wanted to taste that trembling mouth. He wanted to wrap her tiny waist with his hands and bring her closer until he was wet along with her; until her soft curves brushed up against him.
Until he could kiss away the trouble caused by another man.
He wanted to wrap her in some sort of protective cocoon so that nothing deceitful could touch her.
Dio mio, he had met her five hours ago and even he was already lured in by that innocence. Giovanni would do anything for this creature.
But the fact that she could be telling the truth only made the problem worse.
Not only had Gio had her decked up in diamonds and couture, he had released her into a hungry horde of Milanese social climbers.
At least if she’d been a con woman, she would have been able to handle herself.
He reached for her when she walked by him to leave. Feeling the calluses in her palm, he pulled up her hand.
Her fingers were long and bare, with calluses at the tips of most. He had a sudden flash of Allegra’s perfectly manicured nails with baby-soft skin.
“Why do you have calluses?” All this was just to know her, he reminded himself. To create a picture of her life for himself. To see if there were any holes in it. To see if a lie would crack through her elaborate pretense.
Or it’s because, for the first time in years, you can’t stop yourself from touching a woman. Because the need to touch her, to taste her, is pounding in your blood.
Fingers tracing his palm, sending pulses of heat through him, she frowned. He felt as if he had been earthed. “I could ask you the same. I thought CEOs had pampered, manicured hands and wore tacky, gold bracelets.”
A strange, masculine satisfaction whirled through him.
“I’m an automobile engineer first, a CEO second. I restore vintage cars when I find time.” He was already stretched superthin as it is and now this—her. “Which is very little. Now tell me, why do you have calluses?”
“I carve wooden toys in my free time. A hobby really. Frank—” a stiffness thinned her mouth “—set up an online shop for me. The cash always came in handy and my students’ parents provided good word of mouth.”
The man’s name on her lips pulled Raphael back to the matter.
She blinked owlishly, as if trying to keep him in focus. He clenched his jaw tight. More pieces were falling into place.
If she was conning all of them, he would see her in jail. But Raphael was forced to rethink his misgivings, to consider Gio’s trust might not be misplaced. She knew things about Lucia and Gio that no one did, at least, that was what Gio had told him.
Also, he was a good judge of character.
He’d been forced to be after his father’s suicide. He’d had to learn on his feet which creditor could be counted on to wait, which creditor was loyal to his father’s tarnished memory and which one would revel in humiliating his mother and sisters if Raphael came up short.
If she was innocent... He could hardly bear thinking about the hordes of hungry, young, single Milanese men that would descend on her... Just tonight, it had taken every ounce of the force of his ruthless reputation to beat off the men who had wanted to follow her.
Men who’d have stood in his place right now and watched moonlight sparkle in her eyes, seen the wet swimsuit cling to her toned, lithe body, seen the artless display of grief and joy that came into her eyes when she spoke of Lucia and Giovanni.
“If I have to carve a million toys to pay Giovanni back, I will,” she said with a fierce pride shining in her eyes.
He hardened his tone. “Even if you’re telling the truth, I can’t just let you walk away without making sure that you’ve not crushed his heart,” he added for good measure.
Her soft sigh pinged over his nerves. Did she know how arousing that was? Did she even realize that the sight of her big, searching gaze, the way she stared at a man as if she meant to see through to his soul, could do things to a man she might not want?
“Why do you think I agreed to that—” she pointed to the house now cloaked in dark shadows “—ridiculous show? Telling Gio about Frank probably wasn’t a good idea. All those men he invited, the way they were crowding around me... I didn’t realize his intentions until you pointed out how much attention I was getting. Clearly, he thinks I can’t take care of myself.”
He’d been cruel to taunt her like that. Not that he was off the mark. But there was also an attraction to her that was rare. It was disturbing to think of her coming up against
