The Medici Mistress: Nothing and no one would stop him from having her. (7 page)

He expelled a slow breath. “I funnel a significant portion of my wealth to schooling for disadvantaged children.”

“In England?” She tried not to focus on the way her heart was swelling with misplaced pride.

“In Europe. England. America. Asia. Wherever I can.”

She took another sip of her wine and then pushed the glass across the table. If she wasn’t be careful, her sense would be impaired by the excellent drink. She didn’t need to be any less in control of herself around this man.

“Aren’t you just a model citizen?” She asked, archly.

Giac didn’t want to talk about himself any longer. “It is the responsibility of the wealthy to give back to our society. Do you disagree?”

Their meals were brought. To Annie’s chagrin, she saw that Giac had ordered exactly what she herself might have chosen. She made a point of scrunching up her nose, though, as if in distaste. It was juvenile, but he inspired those emotions in her.

His question hung in the air. She speared an asparagus tip and shook her head. “Of course I don’t disagree,” she said firmly. “I just didn’t have you pegged as a secret philanthropist.”

“Perhaps it’s time you realized that you don’t know as much about me as you believe.” He sipped his wine, regarding her steadily over the rim of his glass.

Annie’s heart kerthumped painfully in her chest. “Why are you getting divorced, Giac?”

“I am not willing to discuss that,” he said seriously, placing his wine on the table and running his finger around its base. His eyes lifted and locked with hers. “It is the right decision, though.”

Acid filled Annie’s mouth. What she wanted and needed were completely at odds with what was sensible. “Another misconception bites the dust,” she murmured, aiming to sound light.

“How so?”

She shrugged. “I had you pegged as the ‘forever after’ kind of man. You’re just arrogant enough to make a decision and stick to it simply because you don’t like to be wrong.”

His smile was devoid of even a trace of humor. “I would have stuck to it, if that’s what she’d wanted.”

Annie had thought he couldn’t hurt her more than he already had. But the admission was like tearing a Band-Aid off still scarred flesh. “So this mutual decision was at her instigation?”

“You could say that.”

“And if she hadn’t left you, you’d stay with her?” She was being masochistic, but she had to know.

“Annie, I meant my vows, when I married her. If she had wanted to, I would have stayed married to her for the rest of my natural life. It would have been the right thing to do.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes.” He could see the pain on her face, and he had the certainty that he was digging an even deeper hole for himself.

Annie felt hot and cold, and shaken all over. She pushed back from the table, hardly registering the scraping noise the seat legs made on the tiled floor. “Excuse me,” she said, not meeting his eyes. She fetched her handbag from the floor and moved quickly through the busy lunch destination.

He caught up with her on the street. “You have a terrible habit of running out on me.”

“You have a terrible habit of hurting me,” she countered. Tears stung her eyes. “It’s my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have let you in, even a little bit. The minute I do, you find a way to make me feel like crap all over again.”

“That was not my intention,” he said with exasperation. He looked down the busy street. People were bustling past in every direction, and it was infinitely possible that they would be spotted by one of her colleagues if they stood where they were. In the interest of sparing her from gossip, he put a hand beneath her elbow and propelled her towards his car.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she announced truculently, crossing her arms across her chest.

“People from Amicus are walking past. Get in the car.”

That frightened her into action. She didn’t need to become the center of a scandal involving her and the man who owned the whole place. “Fine.” She slid into the lavish interior, her gut immediately tightening with desire when she smelled his familiar, woody scent.

He took the driver’s seat and started the powerful engine.

“Hey, wait a second,” she spun in the leather chair to face him. “I thought you just wanted to talk. Where are we going?”

“I want to talk in comfort,” he muttered, pulling the powerful car into a non-existent gap in traffic. She heard cars behind them break. He was not concerned. “My place, or yours?”

A shiver of illicit anticipation ran down her spine. Her flat was right around the corner. And she didn’t want to go back to his penthouse ever again. Her voice was defeated. “Mine.”

The writing was on the wall. Like a dog with a bone, he was not going to release her from this torment until he was ready. They were silent on the short drive from Canary Wharf to London Bridge. It was only when he pulled his Range Rover up out the front of her block of flats that she remembered she had a voice, she had a brain, and she could use both to end this whenever she wanted. “You can come in, but only for a few minutes. I don’t see what good rehashing the past is going to do.”

He didn’t respond, and Annie didn’t care. Having set the boundaries, she felt a little better about the situation she found herself in. She was on the third floor, and as she climbed the staircase, she was aware of him behind her, the whole way.

She fumbled the key in her lock, and dropped it to the ground. The look she shot him was fulminating. All of this was his fault. Everything.

“Allow me,” he said firmly, slipping the keys from her fingertips and inserting one into the front door of her apartment. He clicked it to the left and stood back to allow Annie to precede him. She did, stepping into her flat.

For a second, she thought about slamming the door shut in his face, then realized the keys were still in the lock. Giac pulled them free as he walked in, and shut the door.

Back in her apartment, Annie couldn’t help but feel a strange vulnerability. The way this man’s body dictated terms to hers was completely overwhelming. Even now, in the midst of her rage with him, desire ran like thick soup through her veins.

She had to remember why she was angry with him. What he was capable of. He had slept with her whilst engaged to another woman. A woman he purported to love. “Did you tell your wife about us?”

His eyes flashed in his handsome face. “I no longer wish to discuss Carrie. She is not relevant to us.”

“To hell she isn’t,” Annie contradicted, reaching for the keys he held dangling from his fingertips.

As she got close, he lifted the keys high above his head, so that she had to reach up for them. “That’s mature,” she snapped sarcastically, standing on tiptoes.

Giac didn’t give two hoots. With her arms stretched above her head, she was vulnerable and beautiful. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “No one is relevant to us. Not her. Not him. No one, except you and me.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the unexpected closeness. She pushed at his shoulder, but even she realized how half-hearted an attempt it was to distance him.

His dark eyes were heavy with feeling. He let go of the keys and they dropped to the floor with a clatter. She didn’t care.

He kissed her, hard, on the mouth, and she kissed him back harder. She wanted to punish him. She needed to hurt him. She groaned as sensations battered her. His hands were pushing impatiently at her dress, sliding it from her body, uncaring when the seam split.

In just her underwear, he lifted her, holding her against his body. Her legs wrapped around his strong middle of their own free will, as he effortlessly carried her across the room without breaking their kiss. He pressed her against the wall, his whole body grinding to hers.

She was breathless with desire. Three long years she had waited to know this passion again, and, in the meantime, she’d felt nothing even close to it. He moved his mouth to her neck, sliding his lips along the smooth skin there, and lower still, to her exposed décolletage. She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, as every nerve ending leaped to life. He scooped his hands inside her briefs, gripping her buttocks and squeezing. She moaned, wrapping her legs more tightly around his torso.

“Giac,” she whimpered, completely pulled apart by what he was doing to her. She ran her fingernails down his back, wanting his clothes to disappear, so that she could feel his warm, honey-hued skin beneath her.

This excitement was totally unique for Annie. She’d never known sex could be like this. If the few passionless kisses she’d shared with Thomas were anything to go by, it wasn’t always the case

Thomas.

She froze, as guilt lanced her. Though their relationship was casual, it had been going on for long enough to presume they were exclusive.

“Stop.” She shook her head, then put her hands on either side of his head. His eyes were groggy with desire. His mouth swollen from passion. “Stop.” She repeated quietly. She held his shoulders as she lowered herself from his body, and stayed propped against the wall for support.

“Are you… what is it?”

Cold regret enveloped her like a rain cloud. She wrapped her arms over her breasts. Somehow, they were naked, and she didn’t even remember him removing her bra. “I have a boyfriend. And a job. I can’t just … come to my apartment and do
this
with
you.
It’s the middle of a work day.”

His lips compressed into a line of disapproval. He was reasonably certain she would not take well to the news that he’d arranged for her to be out all afternoon. He suspected she might think his actions heavy handed.

“Boyfriend.” Giac closed his eyes in revulsion at the term. “I know you don’t feel like that in his arms.”

Annie’s breath was labored. She reached for a throw from the back of her sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders. “And you? Did you enjoy making love to your wife as much as you did me?”

He swore. “I’ve never known anything like what we shared.”

His honesty made her heart splinter. “None of this makes any sense.” She fixed him with a stare, and she had no idea how desolate her expression was. Annie shook her head slowly from side to side, so that her inky black hair formed a dark cascade down her naked back. “I just know that it doesn’t end well for us, Giac.”

He frowned. “How? How do you know this?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Because! Look at what you did to me?” She stuffed her hand against her mouth, in an attempt to stifle a sob. It didn’t work. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”

Though his expression was inscrutable, she just knew that her accusation sat uncomfortably with him. It was in his body language. The way his hands were jammed into his pockets; the way his eyes could only hold hers for a few moments, before flicking to the door. “I tried to explain at the time.”

She shook her head from side to side. “I didn’t want to hear it then, and I don’t want to hear it now.”

He moved to stand in front of her, and used the pad of his thumb to wipe away tears she hadn’t even known were falling. “What do you want?” It was a quietly spoken request.

She didn’t respond immediately, and he persisted. His tone was gravelly. “Tell me, and I will do it,
cara
.”

Annie closed her eyes. Her voice was barely a pained whisper. “I want you to go away.”

When she opened her eyes, moments later, Giac Medici had left. With a sinking heart, she realized that wasn’t what she’d wanted at all.

CHAPTER SIX

Two days passed with no word from Giac. By the third night, Annie made herself face facts. He was gone. Unless she went to him, their relationship was over.

In the middle of her brother Stu’s impromptu rave, she stood still, like a solitary beacon amongst party pandemonium. Well-heeled revelers swelled around her, dancing in time to the cruisy beats her brother was pumping out from beneath the shade of a huge, old Maple tree. As summer nights went, it was perfect. The sun was still shining, despite the lateness of the hour, the food was delicious, the guests a good assortment of small-time celebrities and local color, and her date was more attentive than she could ever need.

She forced a smile as Thomas weaved back through the crowd, holding two plastic cups almost overflowing with champagne.

“Thanks,” she took it, but didn’t drink from it. She didn’t want to drink. She didn’t want to numb the pain she was feeling. It was the only assurance she had that she’d done the right thing.

“Your brother always knows how to throw a good bash, doesn’t he?” Thomas asked conversationally, casting an admiring glance around them.

She nodded, her smile paper-thin.

“I should ask him to put together my next launch party.”

Annie nodded again. She’d come to the impromptu event straight from work, and she stuck out like a sore thumb in a pair of fitted black pants and a Laura Ashley blouse. At least she’d had a moment to let her hair down, and put some fresh make up on.

“Are you okay?” Thomas put a hand lightly on her elbow, jolting Annie out of her reverie. For some reason, he was infuriating her. Things she used to find attractive about him, like his toffee accent and floppy hair, now seemed contrived and false.