The Playboy's Fugitive Bride (21 page)

Only if she’ll be a passenger on the Royal Caribbean cruise ship
.  “I’m looking forward to it,” she lied without batting a lash.

“I’m glad it’s you who’s accompanying me tonight.  I couldn’t ask for a lovelier date.  The woman I’d planned on taking can’t hold a candle to you, pussycat.”

It was the first time he’d called her pussycat all day.  Unexpectedly, it didn’t bother her like it had before.  In fact, she almost liked it, except...  She gave him a level look.  “Massimo, were you already in another relationship when I approached you?”

“No. 
She’s
one of those friends-in-need I mentioned earlier.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t want to get my eyes scratched out or my hair pulled from the roots by some jealous, jilted lover.”

“Something tells me you’re quite capable of taking care of yourself, Nia Sylk.”

She giggled.  “Yeah, I can take care of myself.  Been doing it since my father died.  But since I never had a boyfriend, I never had to deal with that kind of jealously.”

“And you wouldn’t with me.  I may have been a playboy, Nia, but I was always monogamous.”

“So the rumors about you cheating on your fiancée aren’t true?”

“There was no infidelity on my part.  Gabby and I broke up for a completely different reason—reasons I do not care to discuss since it concerns no one but her and me.”

That, Nia surmised was probably true.  No one could ever accuse Massimo Andretti of infidelity.  He was faithful to his lovers.  But then again, all his affairs were short-lived.  It was very unlikely that he could be faithful to a wife who would be around for a much longer period of time.  “So why don’t you tell the truth about the breakup and restore your reputation?”

“What reputation?”  His lips curved into a smile.

“You like people thinking you’re a jerk, don’t you?”  She absentmindedly toyed with a diamond-studded onyx earing in one earlobe.

“I don’t care what people think of me,
cara
.  It’s what I do that matters.  My actions and what I know in my heart to be true are what count.  I always try to do right by people.”

Really?

“What good would it do anyway?”  He threw his hands in the air dismissively.  “It’s all in the past.  Gabrielle has gone on with her life, and so have I.  Speaking of which—”  He shoved his hand into the right pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small black velvet box. “I would like you to wear this tonight.” He flipped the box open.

Nia’s eyes bulged and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the huge sparkling diamond ring.  She pressed her hand against her palpitating chest.  “Massimo, we spoke about this marriage thing this afternoon.”

“I understand.  But last night I announced to the world that we were getting married.  Since I haven’t yet recanted, it would seem very odd to my associates if my intended wife weren’t flashing a large diamond on her finger.  I’m an Andretti.  It’s what’s expected of me.”

“I’m not that kind of woman.  Material things don’t matter to me.”

“That’s a quality I find fascinating.”  He pried the diamond from the box and reached out a hand for hers.  “Wear it tonight.  Indulge me.”

Nia pursed her lips as she gazed at the diamond.  “If I do this for you, I want something in return.”

“Ah, pussycat, you’re finally learning the art of negotiating.  You should come work for me.  You’d be a valuable asset to Andretti Industries.”

His white teeth dazzling against his olive skin reminded Nia of the photo of Jabari in pursuit of the female he’d later conquered and pinned beneath him.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice and eyes full of expectation.

“You stay out of my bed until it’s time to consummate our arrangement.”

A puzzled frown replaced the grin on his face, and for a moment Nia thought he would decline, but his features eventually relaxed.  “Okay.  I promise to stay out of your bed until it’s time to consummate our arrangement.”

Satisfied, Nia allowed him to slip the ring on her finger.

Triumph twinkled in his eyes and he bowed his head and kissed the sparkling jewel. “Perfect fit,” he whispered, taking her coat from the seat next to him and draping it over her shoulder.

As they came to a stop, Nia couldn’t deny the evidence any longer, and so admitted the truth graciously to herself: Massimo Andretti wasn’t the lying, deceitful, uncaring asshole she’d thought him all these years.  He had his issues with relationships with the opposite sex, but other than that, he’d matured into an admirable man who could change the world for the better.  He wasn’t set apart, but like her and everyone else, he suffered from pain and loss and loneliness—but never a lack of confidence and authority, she noted as her heart fluttered away.  He cared about people, the universe of which she was a part.

He didn’t care about your father, and he’s dead
.

But people changed.  They deserved second chances, didn’t they?

Your father will never have a second chance, but you and Aaron will after tonight.  Stick to the plan
.

“
Vieni,
cara, mia
.”

Nia silence the voices in her head and glanced up at Massimo standing at the door of the limo with his hand outstretched to her.  She picked up her clutch with one hand and placed the other in Massimo’s.  Like Massimo had promised her, there were no reporters with flashing cameras lurking in the courtyard.

As she stepped into the luxurious warmth of Fontaine Conference Center, Nia felt a multitude of eyes on her, but she stood tall and proud as Massimo slid her coat from her shoulders and handed it to the attendant waiting at the door.  As she gazed back at the curious faces of the women seated on the plush sofas and the open admiration of the men standing nearby, Nia unexpectedly found herself reveling in the fact that she was the woman on Massimo Andretti’s arm tonight. 

Nia smiled up at him when he took her arm and laced it through his.  Her heart began pounding at his nearness, of the warmth seeping through their clothes, and the effect of his soft touch on her wrist.

“I hope you and Bryce win tonight, Massimo,” she said for lack of something better to say, or perhaps it was to prevent her from saying something stupid.

“
Grazie,
Nia.”  He pulled her close, pressed his warm lips to her forehead and whispered, “Now let’s go save the universe.”

* * *

Massimo paced the hallway outside the ladies room.  He’d been in the middle of negotiations when April texted him that Nia had left the lounge where the guests who weren’t involved in the negotiations had convened after dinner.  A local band provided entertainment as they socialized and hopefully formed new friendships.

Although his guards were patrolling all exits from the building, Massimo was taking no chances.  A drop-dead beauty like Nia could convince even the most resolute, intellectual man to exchange his soul for one nibble of her exquisite delights.  When it came to women like Nia, men were weak and often stupid, himself included—and Nia was no dummy.  She was intelligent and calculating.

Massimo liked to tell himself that it was his suspicions about Galen that had compelled him to take Nia up on her proposal, but he knew better.  He’d been hooked from, “
Beautiful day for skiing, isn’t it
?”  Or was it, “
I enjoy watching other people”?
  Or could it be,
“I want to be your lover”?
  Whichever.  Point was: he’d been hooked.

His guards, most of whom had more muscle than brains, could easily fall under her spell.  One bat of her sweeping lashes and a flash of her alluring smile would have them considering the possibilities.  The fact that they could easily fall victim to Nia’s Machiavellian plan was one of the reasons Massimo had requested April’s ‘tailing’ services tonight.

Considering that he had his own plan in motion, he could have just let Nia leave.  But he knew she would probably have called a taxi, and the last thing he wished was for her to fall prey to the paparazzi again.  The thought of a pack of crazy reporters chasing her along the dark country roads was too troubling.  If she wanted to skip out, it was best she did so in the limo with a driver he trusted.

So the moment he received April’s text, Massimo had left the conference room and practically ran across the center toward the vicinity of the lounge.  He’d gotten there in time to see Nia disappear into the ladies’ room on the other side of the hall.  He’d called out to her, but she’d either not heard him or simply decided to ignore him.

Massimo dropped his weight into one of the two sofas nearby and allowed his mind to travel back to their afternoon together.  Sharing lunch with her on the balcony had brought back so many memories of his childhood—most poignant was sitting on his mother’s lap as she read to him from his favorite children’s books.

He’d envisioned Nia reading to their children while he watched from the doorway like his father used to do.  He could easily get used to such tender moments—sharing quiet meals and enlightening conversation with his wife.

Massimo sighed at the ease with which he’d opened up to Nia and told her about the day his mother died.  Dafne was the only other woman with whom he’d ever shared those moments.  He closed his eyes as memories of that rainy day came unbidden to the surface of his mind.

His parents had just eaten lunch together in a private little room of their own.  Massimo remembered his mother receiving a phone call shortly after his father returned to the office.  He remembered the ghostly look on his mother’s face as she dropped the receiver then collapsed on the floor.  Up to this day, Massimo had no idea who that call was from or what the caller had told his mother.  All he knew was that whatever news his mother had received, it had sent her into early labor and ultimately to her grave.

When they returned from Kenya after scattering his mother’s ashes, his father had locked the door to that special room and never crossed the threshold again.  For the past twenty-four years, Azi was the only person who went in there to dust and ventilate once in a while.  Massimo had often wondered if the memories of that room were too painful for his father.  Could it be that he had indeed loved his wife, but was too stubborn or too proud to admit it?

Remorse was the only emotion Luciano had needed to show in order to redeem himself in Massimo’s eyes.  He just wanted him to say he was sorry for his affair with Judith Carmichael, and for betraying his wife.  But Luciano refused to grant him that tiny favor.

Even though he’d been unfaithful, his father had been loving and gentle with his mother, but according to a conversation Massimo had overheard between his father and his grandfather, Luciano had admitted that he’d told his wife he loved her three times, only: the day he’d asked her to marry him, the day of their wedding, and the day Massimo was born.  Luciano had loved Giuliana for considering him as a potential mate, for finally accepting him, and for giving him an heir—the three most significant events of his life.

Massimo sighed.  He had to admit that his father had his faults, but cruelty was not one of them.  Luciano was a philanthropist, but most people never knew that about him.  He gave away grocery gift cards to families in need.  He paid off student loans and medical bills for the uninsured and poorly insured.  He gave money to young entrepreneurs to jumpstart their businesses—Joanne Lambert, owner of Joanne’s Boutique was one of them, and he took others under his tutelage.  Bryce had been his favorite.

Massimo remembered asking his father why he wished to remain anonymous when he performed those acts of kindness for the ordinary citizens of Granite Falls.
“If you let people know you have a heart, they’ll try to break it,”
Luciano had responded.

Did his father’s belief extend to his mother?

Massimo looked up as he heard the door to the ladies’ room open.  The woman who came through it wasn’t Nia, but one he recognized from dinner.  She smiled at him and hurried on her way, her dress making a swishing sound behind her.

He pushed to his feet and began pacing again.  He’d followed his father’s advice when he’d bought West Gate Paper Mill, one of the factories Spencer’s actions had caused to collapse.  He’d implemented the renovations his father had promised and then some, rehired all the employees, raised their salaries, and increased their benefits.  It was a thriving mill now, better than it had ever been.  And he’d kept the name Andretti out of the contracts.  Remorse was a sign of guilt and he was neither guilty nor remorseful.  He had nothing to be ashamed of when it came to that Maine mill.  Nobody knew who owned it, and he meant to keep it that way until…

Massimo stopped his pacing when he saw Nia emerge from the bathroom.  His heart began to pound so hard, he was afraid it would rip right through his ribcage.  Dear God, no woman had ever come close to having this kind of effect on him—making him weak and speechless.  He stood transfixed as she began walking toward him in what felt like very slow motion.

Her wide-eyed expression told him she was surprised if not a bit annoyed to see him.  She looked ravishing in her dress, her breasts pulled nice and high under the sheer fabric of the bodice.  His eyes wandered to the pair of diamond studs in her ears.  Except for the glittering rock on her finger, the earrings were the only jewelry she wore.

The pair was a Tiffany original and has been part of the Andretti wives collection for generations.  The collection consisted of pieces by Harry Winston, Buccellati, and Van Cleef & Arpels, to name a few of the finest jewelers in the world.  Massimo’s mother was the last Andretti wife to wear the earrings, and Massimo decided that they looked perfect on Nia—the next Mrs. Andretti.

From the way the eyes of the other men had kept wandering back to her during dinner, Massimo knew he was the envy of every man here tonight.  He’d heard under-breath comments about Nia’s smooth and impeccable chocolate skin, her mesmerizing almond-shaped eyes and her sexy body.  He’d even heard a Texan remark that she was too good for Massimo.  Massimo had smiled at the truism.