The Ultimate Playboy

Chapter TWELVE


‘NARCISO—’

‘Don’t speak.’

Narciso paced in his office, marvelling at how his voice emerged so calm, so collected, when his insides bled from a million poisonous cuts.

‘Listen to him, bedda. He’s prone to childish tantrums when he’s upset. Just look at how he threw out all his guests a few minutes ago—’

‘Shut up, old man, or so help me I’ll bury my fist in your face.’

Giacomo shook his head and glanced at Ruby in a what-did-I-say? manner.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘Ruby told me you were having a party. I decided to invite myself.’

‘I didn’t—!’

‘Ruby told you? When?’ Narciso’s gaze swung to her, then returned to his father.

‘Last night, when she met me for dinner.’

‘He’s lying, Narciso.’ He heard the plea in her voice and tried to think, to rationalise what was unfolding before him. Unfortunately his brain seemed to have stopped working.

From the moment he’d seen Giacomo take her hand and kiss it, time had jerked to a stop, then rewound furiously, throwing up old memories that refused to be banished.

Forcing himself into the present, he stared at Ruby. The gorgeous firecracker who’d got under his skin. The woman who’d made love to him last night in her apartment as if her soul belonged to him.

Waking up this morning to find her gone had rocked him to his soul. The realisation that he wanted her in his bed and in his arms every morning and night for the rest of his life had been shocking but slowly, as the idea had embedded itself into his heart, he’d known it was what he wanted.

He loved her. He, who’d never loved anything or anyone in his life, had fallen in love...

With a woman who would meet with his father and not tell him...allow Giacomo to put his hand on her.

No! He couldn’t have made the same mistake twice.

Ruby was different...

Wasn’t she? Reeling, he watched Giacomo stroll to the large sofa in the room and ease himself into it. His attitude reeked a confidence that shook Narciso to the core.

He forced himself to speak. ‘Ruby, is this true?’

She shook her head so emphatically, tendrils fell down her graceful neck. ‘No, it’s not. I only—’

‘You have a spy following me around. I know you do. He reports to you twice a week. Today is one of those days, I believe,’ Giacomo said.

Narciso’s fists tightened. ‘Not any more.’

Surprise lit the old man’s eyes. ‘Really? You must be going soft. Luckily, I had my own pictures taken.’

Giacomo reached into his pocket and threw down a set of photos on the coffee table.

Narciso felt his body tremble as he moved towards the table. For the first time in his life, he knew genuine fear. He glanced up to see Ruby’s eyes on his face.

‘Please, Narciso, it’s not what you think. I can explain.’

He took another step. And there in Technicolor was the woman he loved, with the man he’d believed until very recently he hated most in his life.

Ironically, it was Ruby who’d made him look deeper into himself and acknowledge the fact that it wasn’t hate that drove him but a desperate need to connect with the person who should’ve loved him.

His legs lost the ability to support him and he sank into his chair. Vicious pain slashed at his heart and he fought against the need to howl in agony.

‘Leave,’ he rasped.

‘I warned you you would never best me,’ his father crooned.

Slowly, Narciso raised his head and looked at his father. Despite his triumph, he looked haggard. The years of bitterness had taken their toll. It was what he’d risked becoming...

‘She insisted on saving you, do you know that?’

Ice filled his gut. ‘Scusi?’

Giacomo’s gaze scoured him. ‘Your mamma. She had a chance to live. The doctor who arrived could only save one of you. She had a chance and she chose you.’ Bitterness coated every word.

‘And you’ve hated me for it ever since, haven’t you?’

Giacomo’s face hardened. ‘I never wanted children. She knew that. If she’d only listened to me, she’d still be alive.’ He inhaled and surged to his feet. ‘What does it matter? Come, Ruby. You’re no longer wanted here.’


Narciso snarled. ‘Lay another finger on her and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.’

His father jerked in shock, then his face took on a grey hue. Narciso watched, stunned, as Giacomo clutched his chest and began to crumple.

‘Narciso, I think he’s having a heart attack!’

For several seconds Ruby’s words didn’t compute. When the meaning spiked, poker hot, into his brain, he reached out and caught Giacomo as he fell.

Behind him he heard Ruby dialling and speaking to emergency personnel as he tore open his father’s shirt and began chest compressions.

‘Madre di Dio, non,’ he whispered, the fear clutching his chest beginning to spread as his father lay still.

The next fifteen minutes passed by in a blur. The ER helicopter landed on the penthouse roof and emergency personnel took over.

He sagged against a wall when they informed him Giacomo was still alive but would need intensive care immediately.

‘He’ll pull through. I’m sure of it.’

He looked up to find Ruby in front of him, holding out a glass of whisky. He took it and knocked it back in one gulp.

It did nothing to thaw the ice freezing his heart.

‘Leave.’ He repeated the word he’d said what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Shock rushed over her face.

‘Narciso—’

He threw the glass across the room and heard it shatter. ‘No. You don’t get to say my name. Never again.’

He took satisfaction in seeing tears fill her eyes. ‘I can explain—’

‘It’s too late. I told you this thing between Giacomo and I was over. I’d trusted your counsel, taken your advice and abandoned this godforsaken vendetta. But where was your trust, tesoro mio? You knew this was coming. And you said nothing!’

‘He threatened my parents!’

His expression softened for a split second. Then grew granite hard. ‘Of course he did. But his threats meant more to you than your belief that I would help you. That we could fight him together!’ He couldn’t hide the raw pain that flowed out of his voice.

‘I didn’t want to fight! And I was going to tell you. Tonight after the party.’

‘We’ll never know now, will we?’ he said scathingly.

‘Narciso—’

‘Your actions spoke clearly for you. Unfortunately for you, you made the same mistake Maria did. You chose the wrong side.’

* * *

Ruby smoothed her hand down the sea-green dress and tried to stem the butterflies.

In less than half an hour, the grand opening of Dolce Italia would be under way.

Two months of sheer, sometimes blessedly mind-numbing, hard work. She’d volunteered for every job that didn’t require specialist training in the blind hope of drowning out the acute pain and devastation of having to live without Narciso. Her success rate had been woefully pathetic...

‘Are you ready yet, bella bambina? The paparazzi will be here in a minute.’ Her mother entered, wearing an orange silk gown that pleasantly complemented her slim figure. Despite being in her late forties, Paloma looked ten years younger. With her divorce from her philandering husband firmly underway, she appeared to have acquired a new lease on life. The spring in her step had grown even bolder when Ruby had allowed her to take a financial stake in the restaurant.

She stopped in the middle of the small room they’d converted to a dressing room at the back of the two-storey restaurant and cocktail bar in the prime location in Manhattan.

‘Oh, you look stunning,’ she said, then her eyes darkened with worry. ‘A little on the thin side, though.’

‘Don’t fuss, Mamma.’

‘It’s my job to fuss. A job I neglected for years.’

Knowing she was about to lapse into another self-recriminating rant, Ruby rushed forward and hugged her. ‘What’s done is done, Mamma. Now we look forward.’

Her mother blinked brown eyes bright with unshed tears and nodded. ‘Speaking of moving forward, the most exquisite bouquet of flowers arrived for you.’

Ruby’s breath caught, then rushed out in a gush of pain. ‘I don’t want them.’

Her mother frowned. ‘What woman doesn’t want flowers on the most spectacular night of her life?’

‘Me.’

‘Are you sure you’re all right? Last week you sent back that superb crate of white Alba truffles, the week before you refused the diamond tennis bracelet. I wish you’d tell me who all these gifts are from.’

‘It doesn’t matter who they’re from. I don’t want any of them.’ She fought the rising emotions back. She’d shed enough tears to last her a lifetime.

Not tonight. With her mother as her new business partner, she’d paid off Giacomo’s loan and closed that chapter.

Tonight, she would push Narciso and his in-your-face gifts out of her mind and bask in her accomplishment.

‘I’m ready.’

They entered the large reception area to find a three-deep row of photographers and film crew awaiting them. In the time she’d decided to open the restaurant with her mother, Paloma had guided her in how to deal with the press. Where her reaction to them had been led by fear and resentment, now she used banter and firmness to achieve her aim.

With the press conferences and TV junkets taken care off, her mother passed her the scissors and she moved to a large white ribbon.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, my mother, Paloma, and I are proud to declare Dolce Italia open—’

At first she thought she was hallucinating. Then the face became clearer.

Narciso stood to one side of the group, his silver eyes square on her face.

‘Ruby?’ she heard her mother’s concerned voice from far away as the heavy scissors slipped from her grasp.

‘Ruby!’

She turned and fled.

* * *

‘Ruby.’ He breathed her name as if it were a life-giving force, pulling her from the murky depth of pain. ‘Open the door, per favore.’

She snatched the door she’d slammed shut moments ago wide open. ‘You ruined my opening. Weeks of preparation, of breaking my back to make this perfect, and you swooped in with your stupid face and your stupid body and ruined it.’ She found herself inspecting his face and body and tore her gaze away.

‘Mi dispiace. I wanted...I needed to see you.’

‘Why? What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven’t already said?’

His jaw tightened. ‘A lot. You returned all my gifts.’

‘I didn’t want them.’

He took a step into the room. ‘And the NMC cheque? You returned it to me ripped into a hundred pieces.’

‘I was making a point. Why did you keep sending me stuff?’

‘Because I refused to contemplate giving up. I refused to imagine what my life would be like without the thinnest thread of hope keeping me going.’

She wanted to keep her gaze averted, but, like a magnet, it swung towards him.

He looked incredible, the five-o’clock shadow gracing his jaw making him look even more stunning. But a closer look pinpointed a few surprising changes.

‘You’ve lost weight,’ she murmured.

He shut the door behind him and she caught the faint snick of the lock. ‘So have you. At least I have an excuse.’

‘Really?’

‘Sì, Michel threatened to quit. We agreed on a month-long vacation.’

‘You don’t deserve him.’

He grimaced. ‘That’s entirely true. He wasn’t happy when he realised his culinary efforts were going to waste.’ He threaded his fingers together and stared down at them. When he looked back up, his eyes were bleak, infinitely miserable. Her heart kicked hard. ‘I can’t eat, Ruby. I’ve barely slept since you left.’


‘And this is my fault? I didn’t leave. You threw me out, remember?’

He paled and nodded, his nostrils thinning as he sucked in a long, ragged breath. ‘I was wrong. So very wrong to believe even for a second that you were anything like Maria.’

‘And you’ve suddenly arrived at this conclusion?’

‘No. All the signs were there. I just refused to see them because I’d programmed myself to believe the worst.’

Her heart kicked again, this time with the smallest surge of hope. ‘What signs?’

‘Your determination to push me away when I came to your apartment. Your tears in the car on the way back home. Your clear distress when my father touched you. Why would you encourage me to reconcile with my father and turn round and betray me?’

‘I wouldn’t... I didn’t.’

He shook his head. ‘I know. I condemned you for something that never happened. Something you tried to tell me you would never do. But I was so bitter and twisted I couldn’t see what was in front of me.’

‘What was that?’

‘The love I have for you and the probability that you could perhaps love me, too.’

Her breath caught. ‘W-what?’

‘I know I’ve blown all that now—’

‘You mean you don’t love me?’

He speared a hand through his hair and jumped up. ‘Of course I love you. That’s not the point here, I meant—’

‘I think you’ll find that’s the whole point, Narciso,’ she murmured, her heart racing.

He stopped. Stared down at her. Slowly his eyes widened. Ruby knew what he was seeing in her face. The love she’d tried for so long and so hard to smother was finally bursting out of her.

‘Dio mio,’ he breathed.

‘You can say that again.’

‘Dio mio,’ he repeated as he sank onto his knees in front of her. ‘Please tell me I’m not dreaming?’

‘I love you, Narciso. Despite you being a horrible pain in the ass. There, does that help?’

With a groan, he rose, took her face in his hands and kissed her long and deep. ‘I’ll dedicate every single moment of the rest of my life to making you forget that incident.’

‘That sounds like a great deal.’

‘Can I also convince you to let me back Dolce Italia in any way I can?’

Despite the guilt she saw in his face, she shook her head. ‘No. It’s now a mother-daughter venture. I want to keep it that way.’

‘What about your father?’ he asked.

‘He consults...from afar. We’ll never be close but he’s my blood. I can’t completely cut him off.’

‘Prezioso, you humble me with how giving you are.’

‘You should’ve remembered that before you pushed me away.’

‘I’ve relived the hell of it every single second since I lost you.’

‘Keep telling me that and I may allow you to earn some brownie points.’

He smiled. ‘Can we discuss accumulative points?’

‘I may be open to suggestions.’

He kissed her until her heart threatened to give out.

‘Wow, okay. That could work.’

‘How about this, too?’

He reached behind him and presented her with a large leather, velvet-trimmed box. It was far too large to contain a ring but her heart still thundered as she opened it.

The mask was breathtaking. Bronze-trimmed around blue velvet, it was the exact colour of the waters of Belize. Peacock feathers sprouted from the top in a splash of Technicolor, and two lace ties were folded and held down by diamond pins.

‘It’s beautiful.’

‘It’s yours if you choose to accompany me on the next Q Virtus event.’

‘I want to know more about your super-secret club.’

A sly smile curved his lips. ‘I could tell you all the secrets, but then I’d have to make love to you for days to make you forget.’

‘Hmm, I suppose I’d just have to suffer through it.’

He laughed, pulled her close and kissed her again. She pulled away before things got heavy.

‘Tell me what you’ve done to my mother.’

‘She promised to hold the fort on condition I did everything in my power to exit this room as her future son-in-law.’

Ruby gasped. ‘She didn’t! God, first you muscle in on my opening, then you strike deals behind my back.’

‘What can I say? She drives a hard bargain.’ He pulled back and stared down at her, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. ‘So will you give me an answer?’

Her arms rose to curl over his shoulders. ‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether white Alba truffles come with the deal.’

He pulled her close and squeezed her tight. ‘I’ll keep you supplied every day for the rest of your life if that’s what it takes, amante.’


Isla de Margarita, Venezuela

Narciso leaned against the side of the cabana and watched his wife wow the crowd with her latest range of cocktails. Although her mask covered most of her face, he could tell she was smiling.

Music pumped from the speakers strategically placed around the pool area and all around him Q Virtus members let their inhibitions fly musically and otherwise.

He raised his specially prepared cocktail to his lips and paused as the lights caught his new wedding ring.

He’d wanted a big wedding for Ruby but she’d insisted on a small, intimate ceremony at the Sicilian villa where he’d been born.

In the end, they’d settled for fifty guests including her mother, and Nicandro Carvalho and Ryzard Vrbancic, the two men he considered his closest friends.

Although they were working on their relationship, he and Giacomo had a way to go before all the heartache could be set aside.

‘So...last three bachelors standing becomes two. How the hell are Nicandro and I going to handle all these women by ourselves, huh, my friend?’

Laughing, he turned to Ryzard. ‘That’s your problem. I’m willingly and utterly taken.’ He glanced over and saw Ruby’s eyes on him. He raised his glass and winked.

Ryzard shuddered. ‘That’s almost sickening to watch.’

‘If you’re going to throw up, do it somewhere else.’

Shaking his head, his friend started to walk away, then Narciso saw him freeze. The woman who had caught his attention was dancing by herself in a corner. Although she had a full mask over her face, her other attributes clearly had an effect on Ryzard.

Smiling, Narciso turned to watch his wife emerge from behind the bar and walk towards him, her stunning body swaying beneath her sarong in a way that made his throat dry.

She reached him and handed him another drink. ‘What was that all about?’

‘Just me bragging shamelessly on how lucky I am to have found you.’

She laughed. ‘Yeah, about that. You might need to pull back on the gushing a bit. You’re putting our friends off.’

He caught her around her waist, tugged her mask aside and kissed her thoroughly. ‘I have no intention of pulling back. Anyone who dares to approach me will be told how wonderful and gorgeous my wife is.’

His pulse soared when her fingers caressed his collarbone. ‘I love you, Narciso.’

‘And I love that I’ve made you happy enough to keep you from sleepwalking lately.’

‘That reminder just lost you one brownie point.’

He pulled her closer. ‘Tell me how to win it back, per favore,’ he whispered fervently against her lips.

‘Dance with me. And never stop telling me how much you love me.’


‘For as long as I live, you’ll know it, amante. That is my promise to you.’

* * * * *