bear to lose him?
“That is the woman who’ll inherit your wealth? Do you know what the jackals will do to her?”
“Which is why I want to ensure her well-being. If I died tomorrow, Pia would be all alone in the world.”
“And so you have advertised her to all of Milan with the size of her inheritance hanging around her neck like a bloody flashing neon sign. By tomorrow morning, the vultures will be circling, determined to get their hands on Pia.”
“I didn’t advertise her, Raphael.” A shadow of pain crossed Gio’s usually animated features. “I celebrated her presence in my life. After years of wondering about Lucia, I finally have someone to call my own. I want to give her everything she could ever want. I want to cherish her, pamper her, protect her.
“That child is... Her innocence, there’s something so fragile about her.
“Would you deny me the chance to right my wrongs? Would you deny me the pleasure of showing off my granddaughter to the world? The chance to find a man worthy of her among the vultures?”
By sheer dint of his will, Raphael kept his shock to himself. He’d been right. Giovanni intended to buy a prince for Pia. And hand her over lock, stock and barrel. Along with his shares.
He couldn’t care. He didn’t.
“That’s up to you. Just...don’t give her any more money. Not until I confirm her claim.”
“You do what you have to do, Raphael. Who knows, maybe she’ll take my seat on the board?”
He wouldn’t, however, watch years of his hard work being thrown away. “She’s an elementary school science teacher and you want to throw her into the shark-infested pool that is the VA board? They’ll pick the meat off her bones.”
“She will have you to advise her and guide her.”
He stood up, and put away his wineglass. “I have neither the time nor the patience to teach that woman anything. I have enough on my plate with Alyssa, with the company, and now I find out that—” he bit off the last part. Giovanni had always had a soft spot for his stepdaughter, who happened to be Raphael’s ex-wife and Alyssa’s mother. He didn’t want Gio sticking his head in Raphael’s business just as he wanted nothing to do with Pia.
“As long as you keep her away from VA, I don’t care if you sign away your entire fortune to her.”
Giovanni watched as his godson walked out. His breath left on a sigh of satisfaction.
By the time he was through, neither Raphael nor Pia would like him very much. But he didn’t care. There was only one man to whom he would trust his granddaughter’s well-being. Just as he had trusted only one man with his precious company.
PIA STOOD OUTSIDE Raphael’s imposing set of offices on the tenth floor of Vito Automobiles in front of his assistants’ desks—apparently Raphael required two assistants—and fought the urge to turn tail and run.
She would have to run a long way though, for the stretch between the bank of elevators to the wide swath of those desks was an ocean of gleaming marble.
Stay away from me.
She cringed at the words she’d thrown at him a mere ten days ago. If only she could somehow manage a semblance of sophistication in his presence. If only her insides didn’t turn to jelly the moment he was near.
But she’d never experienced anything like her attraction to him, and she didn’t know how to control it.
She was still debating whether she should just cut her losses when the door to his office opened and he stepped out.
His suit jacket was gone, and he seemed to have carelessly pushed the sleeves of his white dress shirt back, revealing hair-roughened forearms and a gleaming Rolex. His hair needed a trim, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.
He was so painfully gorgeous that he took her breath away.
“Pia? How long have you been waiting?”
His frown cut through the light-headedness.
The two assistants’ gazes swung to her. They shot to their feet, a torrent of Italian volleying out of their mouths.
Pia forced herself to move toward him. “I just arrived and I... I hadn’t even had the chance to inquire if you were around.”
He scrutinized her, from her wild hair to her summery blouse and her denim shorts—which suddenly seemed far too short—even down to her wedges, cataloging, it seemed to her, every detail before returning to meet her eyes.
There was that intensity again, that displeasure—as if there was something about her he didn’t like. “Come in.”
She clutched the strap of her purse tight. “It’s nothing...important. Relevant even.” Her idea was ridiculous. Outrageous. “I’ll talk to you when you see Gio...whenever.”
She hardly turned on her heel before he was there, next to her. The warm, male scent of him buckling her knees. His fingers wrapped around her bare arm sending a shocking pulse of awareness through her.
He didn’t really pull her, yet Pia found herself drifting alongside him. “No interruptions,” he warned the gaping assistants before closing the door.
Pia looked around his huge office, more to avoid looking at him than with real interest. A dark mahogany desk took center stage with a sitting area to one side, and a walkthrough to a bedroom and walk-in shower.
She retreated to the other side of the desk while he leaned against the closed door, all casual elegance. “You should not roam by yourself in a strange country.”
Some heretofore-unknown imp goaded her. “Worried about my safety?”
He rolled his eyes, which in turn made her smile. “Giovanni Vito’s American granddaughter is quite the sensation right now.” His gaze skimmed her face for an infinitesimally breathtaking moment. “You’re a shiny target for any number of men.”
He called her the vilest of things, took offense to her presence in Gio’s life and yet, something in his expression made her wonder if he actually was worried about her.
Or maybe she was beginning to delude herself.
She sighed, helpless against the longing that, for one moment, he would see her. Pia. Not Giovanni’s scheming granddaughter. But then, if she weren’t, he’d probably not even look at her at all.
“I begged Emilio to give me a ride since he was coming into the city anyway. Gio is visiting his sister.”
His gaze lingered on her mouth. Just for a fraction of a second, but there. Luckily, the desk hid her trembling legs. “Which one?”
“That mean old dragon Maria.”
One brow shot up.
She
