The Ultimate Playboy

Chapter NINE


‘CIAO.’

The deep voice roused her from languor and she opened her eyes to find Narciso standing over her lounger, cell phone in one hand.

The midmorning sun blazed on the private deck outside his bedroom suite and Ruby squirmed under his gaze as it raked her.

‘Ciao. I can’t believe I let you convince me to sunbathe nude.’

‘Not completely nude.’ He eyed her bikini bottoms.

Heat crawled up her neck and she hurriedly changed the subject. ‘Was your call successful?’

‘Sì, but then all my negotiations are,’ he said with a smug smile.

‘Your modesty is so refreshing. I guess making a million dollars by age eighteen tends to go to one’s head.’

‘On the contrary, my head was very clear. I had only one goal in mind.’

Despite the sun’s blaze, she shivered. ‘So it started that long ago, this feud between you two?’

He tossed his phone onto the table and stretched out on the lounger next to hers. Ruby fought not to ogle the broad, firm expanse of skin she’d taken delight in exploring last night. The grim look on his face helped her resist the temptation.

‘Believe it or not, there was a time when I toyed with the idea of abandoning it.’

Surprise scythed through her. ‘Really?’

‘Sì,’ he replied, almost inaudibly.

‘What happened?’

‘I graduated from Harvard a year early and decided to spend my gap year in Sicily. I knew Giacomo would be there. And I knew he couldn’t throw me out because the house he lived in belonged to my mother and she’d willed it to me when I turned eighteen. I...hoped that being under the same roof again for the first time in five years would give us a different perspective.’

‘It didn’t?’

The hand on his thigh slowly curled into a fist. ‘No. We clashed harder than ever.’

She couldn’t mistake the ragged edge in his voice. ‘If he hated you being there so much, why didn’t he leave?’

‘That would’ve meant I’d won. Besides, he took pleasure in reminding me I’d killed my mother on the street right outside her home.’

Ice drenched her veins. ‘What happened to her?’

‘She suffered a placental abruption three weeks before I was due. She’d gone for a walk and was returning home. By the time she dragged herself up the road to the house to alert anyone, she’d lost too much blood. Apparently, the doctor said he could only save one of us. Giacomo asked him to save my mother. She died anyway. I survived.’

Ruby reached out and covered his fist with her hand. He tensed for a second, then his hand wrapped around hers.

‘How can anyone in their right mind believe that something so tragic was your fault?’

‘Giacomo believed it. That was enough. And he was right to demand that the doctor save my mother.’

She flinched. ‘How can you say that?’

‘Because he knew what I would become.’

‘A wildly successful businessman who donates millions of dollars each year to fund neo-natal research among other charitable organisations?’

He jerked in surprise. ‘How do you know that?’

A blush crept up her cheeks. ‘When I did a web search on you a few things popped up.’

He shrugged. ‘My accountants tell me funding charities is a good way to get tax breaks. Don’t read more into the situation than there is, amante.’

Lowering her gaze, she watched their meshed fingers. The feel of his skin against hers made her heart skip several beats. ‘I think we’re past the point where you can convince me you’re all bad, Narciso,’ she dared.

He remained silent for so long she thought he’d refused to pick up the thread of their conversation. Then his breath shuddered out. ‘Giacomo believes that.’

‘Because you perpetuate that image?’

His smile was grim but it held speculation. ‘Perhaps, but it’s an image I’m growing tired of.’

Her breath caught.

His eyes met hers and he reached across and took her hand. ‘Does that surprise you? That I’m thinking it’s time to end this vendetta?’

‘Why the change of heart?’ she asked.

His casual shrug looked a little stiff. ‘Perhaps it’s time to force another mutation of our relationship,’ he said obliquely.

‘And if it fails?’

His eyes darkened before his lashes swept down to veil his expression. ‘I’m very good at adapting, amante.’ He stood up abruptly and pulled her up. ‘Time for a shower.’

She waited until they were both naked in the bedroom before she spoke.

‘All that with Giacomo. I’m sorry it happened to you.’

His nostrils flared as bleakness washed over his face. Then slowly, he reasserted control.

Intense silver eyes travelled over her, lingering on her bare breasts with fierce hunger that made her nipples pucker. ‘Don’t be. Our feud brought me to Macau. Macau brought you to me. I call that a win-win situation, amante.’

He lunged up and grabbed her. Swinging her up in his arms, he crossed the suite and entered the adjoining bathroom.

‘Wait, we haven’t finished talking.’

‘Sì, we have. I’ve revealed more of my past to you than to any other living soul. If I’m The Warlock you should be renamed The Sorceress.’

Demanding hands reached for her, propelled her backwards into the warm shower he’d turned on.

‘But I don’t know you nearly enough.’

He yanked the shower head from its cradle and aimed the nozzle in the curve of her neck. Water set to the perfect temperature soothed her and she allowed her mind to slide free of the questions that raced through her thoughts.

Understanding the boy he’d been, caught in the hell of a father who hated the very sight of him, Ruby found it wasn’t a stretch to understand why he’d closed himself off.

But she’d seen beneath the fa?ade, knew the playboy persona was just a defence mechanism. His relationship with Giacomo meant more to him than he was willing to admit.

As if reading her thoughts, he sent her a narrow-eyed glare. ‘Don’t try and understand me, Ruby. You may not like what you discover.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

His eyes met hers and she glimpsed the dark river of anguish. ‘It means there may never be enough underneath the surface to be worth your time.’

‘Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?’

He stepped forward and aimed the shower right between her thighs. Ruby gasped as sensation weakened her knees. She reached out for something to steady her and got a handful of warm, vibrant flesh. He angled the showerhead and she let out a strangled moan.

‘No. This conversation is over, amante,’ he growled. ‘Now, open wider for me.’

Despite his clipped words of warning and the blatantly sexual way he chose to end their conversation, Narciso proceeded to wash her with an almost worshipful gentleness that undid her. When he sank down in front of her and washed between her legs, tears prickled her eyes.

Hell, she was losing her mind. Right from the beginning, she’d primed herself to hate this skilled playboy for his shallow feelings and careless attitude towards women and sex.


Instead she’d discovered that beneath the glossy veneer lurked a wounded soul, hurting from a tortured past.

She wanted to touch him the way he’d touched her. She reached out, but he grasped her hand in his, surged upright and set the showerhead back in its cradle. Beside the expensive gels and lotions a stack of condoms rested. Her heart lurched as she saw him reach for one and tear it open.

Grasping her waist, he whirled her around, then meshed his fingers through hers before raising them to rest above her head.

‘This is the only conversation I want to continue. Are you ready?’ he rasped low in her ear.

His thickness pressed against her bottom. Recalling the pleasure she’d experienced before, she could no more stop herself from answering in the affirmative than she could stop herself from breathing.

He slid slowly into her, leaving her ample time to adjust to his size. Pleasure shot through her, imprisoning her in its merciless talons.

Her groan mingled with his as steam rose around and engulfed them in a cocoon of rough kisses and wet bodies.

Narciso let pleasure wash over him, erasing, if only temporarily, the cutting pain of the past rehashed. The raw agony of recollection eased as he surged deeper into her and, even though he refused to acknowledge that her touch, her warmth and soft words eased his pain, he hung on to the feel of being in her arms.

She rewarded him by crying out as her muscles tightened around him.

Dio mio, she was unbelievable! And she’d got under his skin with minimum effort. But he’d get his control back.

He had to.

Because this unravelling, as much as it soothed the deep wound in his heart, couldn’t continue. For now, though, he intended to lose his mind in the most spectacular way. He slid his hands down her sides, glorying in her supple wet skin. Encircling her tiny waist, he threw his head back and let desire roar through his body.

* * *

She woke to a silent room and a half-cold bed.

Ruby didn’t need a crystal ball to know regret played a part in Narciso’s absence. She felt equally exposed and vulnerable in the light of day at how they’d bared their pasts to each other.

But as much as she wanted to stay hidden beneath the covers, she forced herself to leave Narciso’s bed. Shoving her hand through her hair, she picked up the T-shirt she’d brazenly discarded during her seduction routine. Her ripped-beyond-redemption panties she quickly balled up in her fist.

Luckily, she met no one on the way to her own cabin.

Ten minutes later, and freshly showered, she dressed in white shorts and a sea-green sleeveless top, and opened her door to find a steward waiting outside.

‘Mr Valentino would like you to join him for breakfast on the first deck.’

Her pulse raced as trepidation filled her.

Yesterday morning hadn’t really counted as the morning after because after their shower they’d returned to bed and spent the rest of the day making love.

She entered the salon that led to the sun-dappled dining space on the deck.

Fresh croissants, coffee, juices and two domed dishes had been neatly laid out. But her attention riveted on the man flicking his finger across his electronic tablet.

‘Morning,’ she said, her voice husky.

His gaze rose and caught hers. ‘Feeling rested?’

She managed a nod and glanced around. ‘Where are we?’ The day before they’d moored at the Bay of Placencia after leaving the spectacular Blue Hole.

‘We’re just coming into Nicholas Caye. Mexico is just north of us.’

‘It’s beautiful here,’ she said, nerves eating her alive at the intense look in his eyes.

‘Sit down and relax, Ruby. It will be hard but I can just about stop myself from jumping on you and devouring you for breakfast.’

Heat shot into her cheeks. ‘That wasn’t what I was thinking,’ she blurted, then pursed her lips and pulled out a chair.

Lifting the dome, she found her favourite breakfast laid out in exquisite presentation. Along with her preferred spear of asparagus. ‘You made me Eggs Benedict?’ Why the hell was her throat clogged by that revelation?

‘I didn’t make it myself, tesoro. I’m quite useless in the kitchen.’

But he’d taken note somewhere along the way that this was her favourite breakfast meal. ‘I... Thank you.’

He snapped shut his tablet, shook out his napkin and laid it over his lap. ‘Don’t read anything into it, Ruby.’

‘You keep saying that. And yet you can’t seem to help yourself with your actions.’

He picked up his cutlery. ‘I must be losing my edge,’ he muttered.

‘Or maybe you’re rediscovering your human side?’

He smiled mockingly. ‘Now I sound like a reformed comic villain.’

‘No, that would require a lot of spandex,’ she quipped before taking a bite of the perfectly cooked eggs.

He laughed, the sound rich and deep. Ruby barely stopped the food from going down the wrong way when she glimpsed the gorgeously carefree transformation of his face. ‘You don’t think I’d look good in spandex?’ he asked drily.

‘I think you’d look good in anything. And I also believe you can do anything you put your mind to.’

He tensed and slowly lowered his knife. ‘Is there a hidden message in that statement?’

‘No...maybe. This is my first morning-after conversation. I may say things that aren’t thought through properly.’

Her gaze connected with his. An untold wealth of emotions swirled through his eyes and her stomach flipped her heart into her throat. ‘Now you’re selling yourself short. You’re one of the most talented, intelligent people I know,’ he delivered. ‘And the waters are treacherous for me, too.’

‘Really?’ she whispered.

His lids lowered, breaking the connection. ‘Sì. I think we both know we’re under each other’s skin. It’s up to us to decide what we do with that knowledge. What’s your most prized ingredient?’

‘The white Alba truffle, hands down,’ she blurted, reeling at the abrupt question. ‘Truffles make everything taste better.’

He slowly nodded. ‘Bene.’ He said nothing else and resumed eating.

Ruby felt as if she’d fallen down the rabbit hole again. The conversation felt surreal. ‘Why is that important?’

His jaw clenched slightly. ‘I need a truffles day to make me feel better.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I can’t wrap my mind around the things I spilled to you yesterday.’

‘I didn’t force anything out of you, Narciso.’

‘Which makes it even more puzzling. So I need a minute and you’re going to give it to me,’ he stated blatantly.

‘How?’

‘We’re going to spend the day together. And you’re going to tell me every single thought that jumps into your head.’

Her brows rose. ‘You want to use me to drown out your thoughts? You realise how unhealthy that sounds, right?’

His grimace was pained. ‘Yes, I do, but I’ll suffer through it this once in the hope I emerge unscathed.’

‘And if you don’t?’

Silver eyes darkened as they swept over her. The message in them when they locked on her lips punched heat into her belly. ‘Then I’ll have to find a different solution.’

* * *

Six hours later, Narciso was wondering if he’d truly lost his mind. Although he’d learned everything about Ruby from the moment she’d learned to speak to the present she’d received from her roommate, Annie, on her last birthday, he yearned to know more.


Never had he taken even the remotest interest in a woman besides her favourite restaurant and what pleased her in bed. The fact that he wanted to know Ruby Trevelli’s every thought sent a shiver of apprehension down his spine.

He was unravelling faster than he could keep things under control.

Every emotion he’d tried to lock down since that summer in Sicily threatened to swamp him. He gritted his teeth and watched Ruby surge out of the turquoise sea. She walked towards him, clad in the minuscule bikini he’d supplied her with. Her body—supple, curvy and dripping with water—made his mouth dry. When she dropped down next to him on the deserted beach they’d swum to, he burned with the need to reach for her. Dio, with the amount of sex they’d had how could he still be this hungry for her?

‘So, is the inquisition over?’ she asked playfully.

‘Sì,’ he growled. ‘It’s over.’

Her gaze darted to his and he saw her tense at the coolness in his voice.

‘Something wrong?’

‘Why would anything be wrong?’

‘Because you won the swim race from the yacht and you’re not crowing about it. And you’re not firing questions at me any more.’

‘Perhaps I’ve had my fill for now.’

‘Right. Okay,’ she said.

He couldn’t dismiss the hurt he heard in her voice. Turning, he watched her slim fingers play with the sugary white sand next to her feet. The desire to have those hands on his body grew until it became a physical pain.

Abruptly, he leaned forward and opened the gourmet picnic basket that had been delivered by his crew. He bypassed the food and reached for the chilled champagne. Popping the cork, he poured a glass and handed it to her.

‘What are we celebrating?’

‘The end of our beautiful down time. We leave for New York in the morning.’

Her eyes widened. Hell, he was more shocked than she was. His plan had been to stay for a full week. But the restlessness that had pounded through him all day wouldn’t abate and he needed to find some perspective before it was too late.

At least once they returned to New York, back into the swing of things, everything would make sense again.

‘You’ve asked my every thought for the last six hours. I think it’s my turn now.’

He thought of sparing her the chaos running through his head. Then he mentally shrugged. ‘I’m thinking why the thought of being free of you gives me no satisfaction.’

‘Wow, you really know how to make a woman feel special, don’t you?’

‘I don’t believe in sugar-coating words.’

‘Please, spare me the macho stance. You know how to be gentle. What’s going on here, Narciso? Why are you suddenly angry with me?’

He met her cloudy gaze and every thought disappeared but one. ‘I’m finding how much I despise the thought of you ever taking another lover.’

Shocked blue eyes darted back to his. ‘Narciso—’

‘Now I’ve felt you shatter in my arms, the thought of you with another man makes my head want to explode.’

She gasped. ‘Did you really just say that?’

He gave a harsh laugh and shook his head, as if testing his own sanity. ‘Sì, I just did.’

Beautifully curved eyebrows rose. ‘And I’m guessing that’s the first time you’ve admitted that to a woman?’

‘It’s the first time I’ve felt that way about any woman.’ He shoved a hand through his hair.

Dio mio, he was like a leaking tap! Yesterday, he’d bared his past and his soul as if he were under the influence of a truth serum; today he was contemplating the future and the ache of not having Ruby Trevelli in it.

He knocked back the rest of his drink and surged to his feet. The crew member manning the launch a few dozen metres away looked his way and Narciso beckoned him over.

‘It’s time to go.’ Reality and the cut and thrust of Wall Street would bring some much-needed common sense.

Unlike when they’d donned their swimming gear and laughingly dived from the side of the boat half an hour ago, silence reigned on the way back to The Warlock.

When he helped her up from the launch onto the floating swim deck at the back of the yacht, he forced himself to let her go, to stop his hands from lingering on her skin. As much as he wanted to touch her, weave his fingers through the damp hair curling over her shoulders, he couldn’t give in to the spell threatening to pull him under.

‘I have work to do. I’ll catch up with you later.’ With his insides twisting into seething knots, he walked away.

* * *

Ruby watched him walking away, a giant chasm opening up where pleasure had been half an hour ago. Things had been perfect. So much so, she’d pinched herself a couple of times to make sure the combination of sun, sea and drop-dead-gorgeous companion who’d laughed at her jokes and insisted on knowing every thought in her head was real.

She hadn’t told him every thought, of course. For instance, she hadn’t admitted that every time he’d touched her she’d heard angels sing to her soul. That would’ve been nuts. As would’ve been the admission that she was dying to make love with him again.

No chance of that now...

The hard-assed, enigmatic Narciso Valentino of three days ago hadn’t made a comeback—and Ruby hoped against all hope the Narciso who chose to smother away his pain was gone for good—but a new Narciso had taken his place. One who fully recognised his vulnerabilities but then ignored them.

The need to go after him was so strong, she locked her knees and gripped the steel banister. He needed time.

Heck, she needed time to grapple with the mass of chaotic emotions coursing through her.

Scrambling for control, she went into her cabin and showered off the seawater. Clad in a long, flowered dress with a long slit down one side, she returned to the bar and lined bottles on the counter. Work would take her mind off her unsettling thoughts about Narciso Valentino.

She was measuring a shot of tequila into a shaker when one of the crew members approached.

‘Can I get miss anything to eat?’

She shook her head. He smiled and turned to leave. ‘Wait.’ He paused. ‘Have you seen my phone? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.’

He smiled. ‘Oh, yes. One of my colleagues found it in the kitchen yesterday and handed it to Mr Valentino.’

Narciso had her phone? ‘Thank you,’ she murmured. She slowly screwed the top back on the bottle she’d opened and put the lemon wedges back in the cooler. Wiping her hands on a napkin, she left the deck.

His study was on the second level, past a large room with a sunken sitting area perfect for a dinner party. Like the rest of the vessel, every nook and cranny screamed bespoke and breathtaking luxury.

He growled admittance after her tense knock.

Seated in a leather armchair behind a large antique desk, he watched her enter with a frown. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘As long as you can adequately explain why you’ve commandeered my phone, no.’

‘You’re expecting a call?’ he asked.

‘Whether I am or not is beside the point.’ She shut the door and approached his desk. ‘You’ve had it since yesterday. Why didn’t you hand it over?’

He shrugged. ‘It must have slipped my mind.’

Somehow she doubted that. But watching him, seeing his face set in those stern, bleak lines she’d recognised from before made her heart stutter. She’d seen that look before.


She stepped closer, looked down and saw the pictures and papers strewn on his desk. The date stamp on the nearest one—showing that very morning—made ice slide down her spine. ‘This is the business you had to take care of?’

He slowly set down the document in his hand. ‘No. Believe it or not, I intended to scrap all this.’

‘But?’

‘But something came up.’

She glanced down at the photos. All depicted Giacomo. In one of them, the one Narciso had just dropped, he was dining with a stunning woman in her late twenties.

‘Is that the something?’ she asked, telling herself the pain lancing her chest wasn’t jealousy.

His mouth tightened. ‘We’re not having this conversation, Ruby.’

‘What happened to the man who was going to try to find a better way than this need to destroy and annihilate?’

His head tilted. ‘That means the same thing.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Destroy and annihilate—same meaning.’

‘Really? That’s all you have to contribute to this conversation?’

His jaw tightened. ‘I told you I was good at adapting, cara. So why are you surprised that I’m adapting to the situation I find myself in? And seriously, screwing my brains out does not entitle you to weigh in on this.’ He waved to his desk.

‘Then why did you share it with me?’ she replied.

For a moment he floundered. The clear vulnerability in his eyes made her breath catch. ‘A misjudgment on my part.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

Shock widened his eyes. It occurred to her that she was probably the only person who’d dared challenge him this way.

Slowly, his face transformed into an inscrutable mask. Hell, he was so expert at hiding his feelings, he didn’t need a mask at his next ball, she thought vaguely.

‘I don’t care whether you believe me or not. All I care about, what you should care about, is whether you can deliver on our agreement. I can easily find a replacement for you if you wish to terminate it when we get back to New York. Believe that.’

‘Oh, I believe you. I also believe you think you can hide behind hatred and revenge to find the closeness you seek.’

‘Madre di Dio. When I suggested you tell me every thought that came into your head, I had no idea you were a closet pop psychologist or I’d have thought twice. I unequivocally revoke that request, by the way.’

Listening to him denigrate what had been a perfect few hours in her life made anger and pain rock through her. Stepping back from the desk, she glanced at the picture, pain slashing her insides.

‘I’ll leave you to your machinations.’ She rushed out and hurried up the stairs, swiping at the foolish tears clouding her vision.

If Narciso wanted to bury himself in the past, he was welcome to do so.