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CHAPTER FIVE

RACHEL looked at Alessandro’s mouth, the mouth that five years ago had pressed down on hers and evoked a lightning strike of reaction through her being. Her heart raced with a galloping beat, its hammer blows so hard she wondered how he couldn’t feel them against his chest where it was pressed against hers. His lips were slightly dry, she could see the indentations of each and every contour, the way the top lip was marginally thinner but the lower one full and sensual—so different from hers, which were evenly full. Hers were soft from years of lip balm and gloss. She had no rough contours, but she knew her smoothness would snare his roughness like hand-spun silk against rough sandpaper. She remembered how it had felt way back then, the difference between their lips startling her, rocking her off course. She felt it again as soon as he touched down, his lips covering hers in a kiss that sent swift sharp shooting arrows of sensation through her. His crushing mouth ensnared hers, capturing her, tethering her in a kiss that was hot and erotic and charged with red-hot passion. She felt it in the way his body was lying over hers. His chest was pressing her down, his pectoral muscles branding her breasts, his taut abdomen imprinting her belly with his unmistakable arousal. She felt the proud swell of his erection, the thundering pulse of his blood, the surge of his hormones awakening every feminine pore of her body.

She felt a pulse of longing start up deep inside her, a throbbing need that escalated with every movement of his mouth on hers until it totally consumed her. When his tongue demanded entry through the tender shield of her lips her pulse skyrocketed. She felt the hot spikes of longing jabbing at her, making her shift beneath him, her body aching for the intimate closeness of his full possession. A fiery pit of need roared inside her core, making her spine arch to feel him right where she needed him most. It was shameful the way she was almost begging, but she couldn’t seem to help it. He had awakened a torrent of need inside her that, now unleashed, was racing away with a will of its own. She clawed at him with her greedy hands, holding him to her, her fingers digging into the tautness of his buttocks, pressing him to her aching point of need. His kiss intensified, hot and hard and urgent, even more demanding, his tongue duelling with hers in a passionate showdown that left her breathless and desperate for more. She felt the nip of his teeth as they snagged the fullness of her bottom lip, a shockingly primitive caress that made her spine loosen and her toes curl. She used her teeth the same way on him, spurred on by an instinct as old as time itself, taking his lip, sucking on it, pulling on it, and biting it in little kitten-like bites that evoked a deep throaty groan from him.

He raised his mouth from hers and looked down at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but at least she could hear his breathing was just about as unsteady as hers. ‘Same old Rachel,’ he said.

Rachel felt an earthquake of resentment rattle her. ‘What do you mean by that exactly?’ she asked.

His eyes flicked to her kiss-swollen mouth before coming back to her fiery gaze. ‘You are never happy until you have a man under your control, are you?’ he said. ‘It amuses you to see how readily they succumb to the temptation of your body.’

She gritted her teeth. ‘Get off me.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘That’s not what you were communicating a couple of minutes ago—the very opposite, in fact.’

‘Well, it’s what I’m communicating now,’ she said and wriggled out from under him to get to her feet.

He propped himself up on one elbow to look at her trying to restore some order to her hair and rumpled clothing. She turned her back on him, furious at how he had made her feel like a cheap strumpet when he had been the one to kiss her first … or had he? She didn’t like to think about it too closely. Their mouths had been so close, just a breath apart, and then someone had closed the distance. Had it been him or her or both of them at exactly the same time? His kiss should not have affected her so much. His body should not have left hers aching and crawling with need. She crossed her arms over her body, hoping the action would quell the storm that was still raging inside her. Her skin felt tingling and too sensitive, her breasts tight and full, her inner core moist and hungry for the urgent glide of his flesh in hers. How had he reduced her to this? She turned into a wanton every time he came near her. In spite of the years that had passed nothing had changed.

‘This is your bargaining tool, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘You want more money and this is the only way you know how to get it.’

Rachel refused to look at him. ‘You think you have this all sewn up but I could still walk away. There are other people I could approach to help me.’ There was a beat of silence.

‘I have been doing a little research into your company,’ he said.

Rachel turned around to face him. ‘Don’t play games with me, Alessandro.’

‘The thing is, Rachel, I am very much afraid you will not be able to find anyone else to help you,’ he said.

She threw him a cutting glare. ‘Because you made sure of it by telling everyone I was a risk.’

‘I am not responsible for that, Rachel,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to take my word for it. I am in the process of trying to find out who is, however.’

Rachel didn’t believe him for a second. Of course he had blackened her name and reputation. It served his ends to do so.

‘The reason I want you to be my counterfeit mistress is because I think you are perfect for the role,’ he said. ‘You are unlikely to get emotionally involved during the short time of our arrangement. I don’t want any complications.’

‘Well, that is certainly one thing you’ve got right,’ Rachel said tightly. ‘I can assure you there is absolutely no danger of me developing any feelings for you.’

His lips curved upwards in a sardonic smile. ‘Still a little too rough for your tastes, little rich girl?’

She glared at him venomously. ‘You are a cold, calculating bastard.’

‘And you are a stuck-up tease who thinks your body can buy you anything you want,’ he shot back with a flash of anger in his eyes.

Rachel stood her ground. She felt strangely invigorated by their verbal battle of wills. He had always been so amenable in the past. The clash of his will against hers was a new experience, an exhilarating experience. ‘You don’t have any idea of who I am any more, Alessandro,’ she said.

‘Some leopards never change their spots,’ he said. ‘I have met your type time and time again since I left Australia. Women like you are always out for what you can get. People are nothing but instruments to get your own way.’

‘But I am not doing this just for myself!’ she protested. ‘I’m doing it for my friend.’

He gave her a cynical look. ‘You are trying to save your company, not your friend. You want to prove to your father that you can make it on your own. You want his approval. You crave it. Your company falling over terrifies you because success is your only means to show him you are not just a beautiful face.’

Rachel swallowed back her retort. She felt stung by his assessment of her motives, not because he was wrong but more because there was an element of truth about what he had observed. All her life she had tried to please her father, to be the sort of daughter he would be proud of, but she had never quite achieved it. She had worked hard at school but she had never gained the results he had in his day. He had constantly reminded her of it. He had been a scholarship student; she had not even been appointed a prefect, let alone Head Prefect or School Captain as he had been. But she resented Alessandro for thinking her support of Caitlyn wasn’t genuine. It was. Caitlyn had helped her through her nasty break up with Craig, providing a safe haven when things had got ugly. She had never forgotten the support and friendship her friend had provided.

‘What you have to realise, Rachel,’ Alessandro continued, ‘is you will never please your father. It wouldn’t matter if your label became the most successful in the world, it would not make him proud of you. He is a narcissist. He is only interested in what makes him look good. Any success or achievement of yours or anyone else makes him feel resentful, that in some way you or they are deliberately stealing the limelight from him.’

‘I don’t need my father’s approval,’ Rachel said. ‘I just want to make my own way in the world. I have talent, I know I have. I just need to get things off the ground in Europe.’

‘With my help you can take on the world,’ he said. ‘Is it a deal?’

Rachel looked at him narrowly. ‘You said a counterfeit mistress.’

‘That is correct.’

‘So I really don’t have to sleep with you?’

‘Not unless you wish to,’ he said with a glinting look.

Rachel felt a blush rise in her cheeks. ‘What exactly do you get out of this deal?’

‘I will make sure I am adequately compensated,’ he said. ‘I will take a share of the profits on a percentage that is acceptable to us both.’

‘It sounds too good to be true, which usually means it is,’ she said.

‘You’re not going to get another offer, Rachel,’ he said. ‘You’d be wise to take this and make the best of it.’

‘You must know I can’t possibly say no,’ she said.

‘You would be a fool indeed to say no,’ he said. ‘I will still need to analyse your company structure. If I want to instigate changes then you will have to agree to them.’

‘I guess I don’t have much choice.’

‘I have already set up a meeting for you with one of the top fabric suppliers in the industry,’ he said. ‘He will be here later tomorrow.’

‘Shouldn’t I be going to him?’ Rachel asked, frowning.

‘I am conducting all business from here at the moment,’ he said. ‘Now, please leave me while I finish my exercises.’

Rachel moved towards the door, but then she stopped and turned around to look at him again. ‘Doesn’t anyone other than your staff know you have been ill?’ she asked.

His sapphire-blue eyes hardened. ‘No, and that is the way I want to keep it.’

‘But it might take months to get back on your feet. You run a huge corporation. Won’t people start to wonder what’s going on if you don’t turn up to meetings and the like?’

‘The beauty of being the boss of a huge corporation is that I get to choose what meetings I go to and when,’ he said, reaching for a towel. ‘I have a very capable board of directors who run things for me in my absence. But I do not plan to be out of action too much longer. In fact, I have an important meeting next week in Paris. I would like you to accompany me as my mistress. We will be away the whole week. It will be your first major public performance.’

Rachel thought of a week in Paris, pretending to be his mistress. She would be following a long line of women who had probably done the same, although they had been for real. ‘I heard about your last mistress,’ she said, ‘the cosmetics model? She was pretty stunning. Did she know about your illness?’

He tossed the towel to one side. ‘I have to get through this programme, Rachel. Don’t you have some designs to work on or some emails to answer or whatever it is fashion designers do?’

‘Who broke it off? You or her?’ Rachel persisted.

His eyes flashed as they met hers. ‘If you don’t get out I swear to God I will change the terms of our deal right here and now.’

‘You know I can’t pay you anything substantial until the label is successfully launched,’ she said.

‘I wasn’t talking about the money,’ he said, with a dark meaningful look in his eyes.

Rachel’s skin began to tingle and her mouth went completely dry. The silence hummed with tension, a throbbing tension that threatened to snap at any second. She ran her tongue out over her lips, tasting where he had been so recently. It was so intimate, so raw and primal to taste the essence of him: minty and fresh and yet unmistakably, dangerously male. What would it feel like to taste his skin, down his sternum, over his flat abdomen and lower? What would it feel like to taste his aroused flesh, to slide her tongue over the engorged length of him, to tease her tastebuds with the musk of his maleness?

‘Rachel.’

‘Y-yes?’ She almost gulped the word as she met his gaze. Could he see where her mind had been straying? Could he sense how attracted she was to him? She wanted to hide it. How could she want a man who had revenge as his motive for having her here with him like this? How could she possibly want to feel his mouth on hers again? How could she possibly feel as if her life would be over if he didn’t want her the way she wanted him?

‘Leave,’ he said somewhat heavily. ‘I have work to do.’

Her gaze went to the chair that was too far away for him to reach. ‘I could help you if you like,’ she offered, stepping forward to bring the chair closer.

‘Damn it to hell, I told you to leave,’ he bit the words out. ‘Just get the hell out of here, do you hear me?’

Rachel’s hands fell off the back of the wheelchair, her heart slipping sideways in her chest. ‘I’m sorry …’ Her voice came out soft and uncertain. ‘I was only trying to help …’

‘I don’t need your help,’ he threw back with a searing glare. ‘I can do this. I will do this. I don’t need you or anyone to help me.’

Rachel left the gym and gently closed the door behind her. She blew out a shaky breath, not sure she was going to be able to handle such a strong and fiercely proud man. But this time his anger and bitterness were directed more at himself than at her, she thought. He hated being vulnerable. He hated having to rely on others to do the tasks he normally took for granted. His plans for her to act as his mistress showed how keen he was to show the world nothing had changed. She wasn’t happy with being part of his plan but she couldn’t see a way out of it. She would have to say yes and live with the consequences.

Alessandro let out a long ragged breath once Rachel had left. She had caught him at his most vulnerable and it made him hate her for it. His muscles ached and burned but not half as much as he ached and burned to possess her. Kissing her had been a crazy move on his part. He had felt those unbelievably soft lips respond to his and within seconds he had felt his steely control slipping. She had the sensual power to humiliate him like no other woman. Had she enjoyed watching him struggle to regain his mobility? Was that why she had refused to leave—so she could document every agonising step of his journey back to wholeness? How could he trust her when she had acted so unpredictably in the past? He had not seen her rejection coming. That was what tortured him the most. He had been so utterly beguiled by her that he hadn’t seen the game she had been playing.

He gripped the equipment with hands that shook with determination. He was not going to let her do it again. He would lock away his feelings and deal with her on a physical level only. That way when the time was up he would be able to get the closure he had so longed for.

Rachel sat and looked out of the window later that day, chewing on the end of her pencil as she took in the glorious view of the gardens. There was a wisteria climbing rampantly over an arbour, and even though the pendulous blooms of spring had mostly fallen there were still one or two, the scent so strong she could smell it through the open window. It was such an inspiring place to be, far better than any hotel she had envisaged staying in. Already she had drawn several designs for gowns that reflected the old-world glamour of the villa. She could imagine soirées here in the past, people spilling out into the colourful and fragrant garden, the champagne flowing, a string quartet playing, perhaps a few couples dancing. It was such a romantic setting, perfect for falling in love.

She dropped the pencil onto the little desk and sat up straight in her chair. There was no way she was going to fall in love, not with Alessandro. He seemed incapable of the depth of emotion it took for a relationship to survive. His feelings were private, off limits, not to be examined. Had she been the one to do that to him? Had her immaturity and selfishness shut him down for good? If so, what could she do to repair the damage she had caused?

CHAPTER SIX

RACHEL was putting the finishing touches to the table in the formal dining room when she heard the sound of the lift being activated. She felt her breath stall momentarily and her skin tingle with alertness.

She stepped back from the table, smoothing her hair back with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. She had dressed in one of her own designs, a long silver gown that had hundreds of hand-stitched Swarovski crystals over the bodice. She wasn’t sure why she had gone to so much trouble. The occasion hardly called for it, but the magnificence of the villa and its atmosphere made her feel as if every dinner here should be an important event.

Alessandro appeared at the doorway, not in his wheelchair this time, but leaning on a pair of crutches.

‘You’re walking!’ Rachel said in surprise.

‘You could call it that,’ he said with a wry look.

‘I think it’s wonderful,’ she said. ‘All your hard work is starting to pay off.’

‘Yes.’ He was silent for a moment as his gaze took in her appearance. ‘You look very beautiful this evening,’ he said.

She felt her cheeks glow from his compliment and lowered her gaze. ‘Thank you.’

‘But I wonder if I should eat what you have prepared for me,’ he added.

Rachel looked at him in confusion. ‘Why do you say that?’

He gave her a look that was rueful. ‘I was rather brusque with you earlier today. I thought perhaps as a consequence of my behaviour I should be concerned about you lacing my food with something poisonous.’

Rachel held his gaze. ‘The only thing I have on hand to poison you with is my tongue.’

He smiled in amusement, the action completely transforming his features. Rachel felt a kick in her belly, a jerky reminder that she was in no way immune to him when he chose to lay on the charm.

‘Then I will have to stay well away from your tongue, won’t I?’ he said with a glint in his eye.

She held that look for as long as she dared. ‘Yes, you will,’ she said but her voice came out husky and soft, nothing like she had intended.

He shifted his gaze and brought himself closer to the table using the crutches. It was clearly an effort for him but she stood back, reluctant to offer help in case he was annoyed or misread it as pity.

‘Thank you,’ he said once he was seated at the table.

‘For what?’ Rachel asked.

‘For not treating me like an invalid.’

‘But you’re not an invalid,’ she said. ‘You’ve already made amazing progress in the short time I’ve been here. I don’t think it will be long before you’re totally recovered.’

There was a little silence.

‘How did you do it last night?’ Rachel asked.

‘How did I do what?’

‘How did you get to the table without assistance?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see your chair anywhere or the crutches.’

‘I can walk short distances by using the furniture as a support,’ he said. ‘I left the chair out of sight until you had gone upstairs.’

‘Why did you leave it until last night to reveal your condition?’

He studied her for a long moment. ‘I wanted to make sure you were committed to staying here for the money, not out of pity.’

Rachel frowned at him. ‘You’d prefer me to be here just for the money instead of out of compassion?’

‘I knew I could count on your desire for money.’

She took her seat, a frown still pulling at her brow. His opinion of her was appalling but no more than she deserved given her treatment of him in the past. How could she redeem herself? She needed the money. She couldn’t walk away from the deal even if she wanted to for her pride’s sake.

He looked at her with an inscrutable expression. ‘That dress you’re wearing. Is it one of your own designs?’

Rachel slid her hands down the sides of her dress. ‘This old thing?’ she quipped. ‘It’s just something I whipped up one afternoon when I had nothing better to do.’

‘So you sew as well as design?’ he asked.

‘Yes, of course. It’s how I got started. I played around with making my own stuff and then I found people would stop me in the street or at a function I was attending and ask me where I got my dress. I decided I had something to offer so I went to design school. That’s where I met my friend Caitlyn. We decided to join forces. But I feel I’ve let her down …’ She bit her lip. ‘She invested a lot of money in getting us up and running, much more than I did. I was left a little short … well,

I won’t bore you with the details but things were not looking that good for me after I ended things with Craig. There wasn’t a lending institution that would even give me an interview, let alone a loan.’

He sat looking at her, still with that unreadable expression cloaking his thoughts and feelings.

The silence went on and on and on.

Rachel shifted her weight and waved a hand in the direction of the kitchen. ‘I guess I should serve up the first course …’

‘So what have you decided?’ he asked.

She glanced at the document he had set by his place setting. ‘I think you already know I have no choice but to accept your conditions,’ she said.

‘Think of it this way,’ he said, handing her the papers and a pen. ‘Your relationship with me will be the shortest of any I have had so far, less than a month.’

Rachel pursed her lips and looked through the document. It was much the same as the previous one. She had to sign a confidentiality clause and she would receive nothing other than the backing of her label and a generous allowance for every day she spent with him. After their relationship was terminated all business to do with the label would be conducted through one of his management team. It felt so cold and calculated. She hated signing her name to such a contract but the faces of her staff and Caitlyn swam before her eyes, and so she scribbled her name with a deep sigh of resignation.

‘I will pour the wine,’ Alessandro said, putting the papers aside to reach for the bottle Rachel had already set out.

When she came back with their starters the wine glasses were full and the tense atmosphere had eased. She sat down opposite Alessandro and did her best to pretend this was just like any other dinner between two people who had chosen to spend some time together.

‘This is a lovely place you have here, Alessandro,’ she said. ‘I find it so inspiring. I worked on heaps of designs this afternoon just by looking out at the gardens.’

‘I am glad you like it,’ he said. ‘So tell me about the designs you’ve been working on. What in particular inspired you?’

She drew in a breath and then released it as she picked up her wine glass, cupping it with both hands as she gathered her thoughts. ‘I don’t know … just the whole atmosphere here, I guess. I don’t know the history of the place but it seems the sort of villa that in the past has been at the heart of society: parties, gatherings, celebrations—that sort of thing. I can picture in my mind the women dressed in gorgeous gowns, the men in tuxedos. The gardens are spectacular. I can smell the flowers from my bedroom. It would be a great venue for a wedding …’ She stopped and lowered her gaze, dipping her head to her glass and taking a sip of her wine. What on earth was she talking about weddings for?

‘Have you ever designed a wedding gown?’ Alessandro asked.

Rachel put her glass down and met his gaze. ‘Yes, a couple by request and it was a great experience. It’s something Caitlyn and I have considered branching further into but it all depends on finances.’

‘Do you miss your modelling career?’ Alessandro asked after another short silence.

‘Yes and no,’ Rachel admitted. ‘I found some aspects of it wonderful. I loved all the wonderful clothes and the buzz of a show, but there was always a downside. The constant battle to be what the latest trend demanded, the competition between girls you thought were your friends but weren’t. I found it hard to work out what was real and what was false. I like the other side of the catwalk. I can do my thing without the other stuff.’

‘I guess the advantage you have now is you know how both sides work,’ he said. ‘You can work the system, so to speak.’

‘Is that what you do?’ Rachel asked. ‘It’s a rags-to-riches tale most people from your background only ever dream of.’

‘I had some luck but most of it was hard work,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to waste any opportunity that came along. I worked hard, got to understand things from the ground up, and then made the most of the opportunities that arose. I am no different from any other self-made businessman. You don’t have to be born to wealth to be successful.’

She picked up her glass for something to do with her hands. ‘I’ve always wanted to explain about that night … the night of my engagement.’

‘Forget about it,’ Alessandro said. ‘Even if you had felt something for me your father would have forbidden any connection between us. He would have cut you off without a penny.’

‘If I had loved you I wouldn’t have let my father’s opinions matter one little bit,’ she said. ‘Love is worth much more than any amount of money.’

Alessandro curled his lip in a mocking manner. ‘So in spite of your broken engagement your head is still full of romantic notions about true love, is it?’

‘I believe in love,’ she said. ‘I believe it’s possible to find fulfilment in a relationship with someone. I think it takes work but I still believe it’s possible to have a long and happy life with a partner, growing and changing together rather than drifting apart.’

‘So you intend to marry and have children one day?’ he asked.

Rachel toyed again with the rim of her glass. ‘I would like to think that is going to be a part of my future,’ she said. ‘I can’t see the point in working hard for years on end with no one to share it with. Life is all about connecting with others. It’s too lonely otherwise.’

A small silence ensued as Alessandro topped up their glasses.

‘What about you?’ Rachel asked. ‘Do you see yourself settling down one day with a wife and family?’

He put the wine bottle back in its cooler before he answered. ‘I have no immediate plans to do so.’ He gave a small rueful twist of his mouth. ‘I find relationships hard work. I am not good at long-term commitment. No doubt it comes from my background, the lack of good modelling or a strong sense of family or something. The longest relationship I have had was six weeks. The last two of them were some of the most miserable days of my life and hers too, I would imagine. We didn’t part as friends.’

‘Did you love her?’

‘No.’

‘Did she love you?’

‘She loved the lifestyle I could give her,’ he said. ‘Most if not all women I have met do. But no amount of luxury holidays and gifts of expensive jewellery can make up for not being connected on the levels that count.’

‘I don’t agree that most women fall in love with a rich man’s lifestyle,’ Rachel said. ‘You make us all sound like a bunch of greedy, shallow gold-diggers who don’t care about anything but their hair and clothes and how many carats are in the diamonds in their ears or around their necks. I think you’ve been hanging around the wrong women way too long. You need to get out more, to mix in other circles for a change.’

He gave her an indolent smile. ‘Maybe before you leave you could set me up with someone you think would be suitable. Someone who could make me change my mind. Do you have anyone in mind?’

Rachel felt that funny little fluttery pulse between her thighs again. Every time he looked at her a certain way she felt another piece of her armour slip away. He was so attractive when he was in a teasing mood. He was attractive in just about any mood, which was even more alarming to her. She found his brooding looks just as mesmerising as his playful ones. And she still hadn’t been able to forget about that kiss in the gym. Nor had she forgotten the feel of his hard body pressing down on hers, the way it had made her feel, the ache and longing that were still burning deep inside her. ‘I am sure you are quite capable of finding a partner all by yourself,’ she said with a touch of asperity. ‘I have no qualifications as a matchmaker. I haven’t exactly had the best of luck myself in the relationships area.’

‘Perhaps we are two of a kind, Rachel,’ he said, still with that lazy half-smile. ‘Two people who are unlucky in love.’ He picked up his glass and touched it against hers. ‘Let us drink a toast. To finding what we both want.’

Rachel sipped her wine, wondering what exactly it was that Alessandro wanted. He had said sleeping with him was optional but she could feel the undercurrent of sexual tension in the air when they were together. A simmering tension that seemed to build as each minute passed. She could feel it now, especially when he looked at her with those intensely dark blue eyes. She felt as if she were being cast under a spell. The more time she spent with him, the more she felt her defences crumbling. He might have been the one in lust with her in the past, but this time around she was being drawn to him in a way she could neither explain nor control. She had never thought of herself as a particularly sensual person and her experience with Craig had only reinforced that. His criticisms of her had cut her deeply, making her feel unlovable and unattractive. Sex had been a physical act that hadn’t touched her at all emotionally. But Alessandro challenged all of her assumptions about herself. With him she felt alive sensually. With him she felt desire hot and strong. With him she felt a need that would not go away.