Her breath locked in her lungs, every cell in her body clenching in freeze frame as she stared at the man sauntering down the side of the conference table.
In a dark grey pinstriped suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and a white shirt and navy tie that screamed understated elegance, Javier Santino didn’t need the tough lawyers who flanked him to underscore his supremacy and importance. He was still hugely formidable and domineeringly sexy. His overpowering masculinity would continue to draw eyes to his sculptured cheekbones and uncharacteristically full mouth, which held a perpetual reddish tinge as if he’d been thoroughly and expertly kissed, long after he was well past his prime.
He stopped opposite her and, even across the vast polished surface, the sheer dominance of his aura slammed into her. Gold-flecked brown eyes pinned hers, one eyebrow lifted in cool, arrogant query.
Deep inside, past the numbness and the fear, something wild and hot and dangerous sparked to life, and she felt the ground shift beneath her feet.
She shouldn’t have come... Then again, what choice did she have?
‘Very well. I’ll take that as a yes.’ His gaze conducted an impersonal inspection of her face and body, then swung from her, releasing her from the disturbingly deep frisson that had taken hold of her. Striding to the head of the table, he pulled out a chair, unbuttoned his jacket in one deft move, and sat down. ‘Since you also didn’t answer my PA when she asked whether you wanted refreshments, I’ll assume you don’t want any?’ Javier continued, the deep, smooth tenor of his voice igniting the flame higher.
Carla swung her head towards the departing PA, her mind unfreezing itself long enough to wonder how long she’d been caught in the dangerous tide of the past.
‘No, I’m fine. Thank you.’ She raised her voice slightly to catch Javier’s PA. The woman turned and nodded with a cool smile before leaving the room.
‘Good. Shall we begin?’
The magnetism that had gripped her outside as she’d stared at Javier’s building returned full force. Her gaze returned to him, her heart beating faster as she stared at him.
There was no trace of the censure she’d expected, no hot-blooded Latin lip curl or even a hint of the fact that this man had seen her naked once, had done things to her body that still had the power to make her blood pound hot and hard through her veins.
He was going for impersonal. Stony. Businesslike.
As she shakily pulled out the chair he indicated to his right and sat down, Carla told herself it was okay to breathe in relief.
If Javier wanted to proceed with no acknowledgement of their past, then so would she. In fact, it was a brilliant thing. No need for further angst.
‘I believe everything’s been settled between our lawyers? You’re finally willing to agree to the quarterly payment terms and the performance-related incentives stipulated in the contract, correct?’
Carla dragged her eyes from Javier to glance at her father. She spied the haughty desperation there, the silent command that their dirty laundry not be aired. She wanted to rail at him, demand to know what had possessed him to gamble away all her money, to jeopardise everything she’d worked for and bring her to the brink of bankruptcy. She didn’t doubt that he’d have another blithe explanation, the callous hauteur he’d often displayed towards her as a child their only means of communication nowadays.
She glanced away again, deliberately numbing herself to the pain and disappointment. Steeling herself, she focused on Javier once more.
‘Yes, I agree to your terms.’
‘Unless, of course, there’s any way you’d reconsider a larger, upfront payment?’ her father suggested, squaring his shoulders as he planted his elbows on the table.
Javier’s gaze didn’t shift from her face. ‘No. If you came here under the pretext of signing the final agreement only to try and renegotiate the terms, then you’ve wasted all of our time. I sincerely hope that’s not the case, Miss Nardozzi.’ The cold edge in his tone matched the look in his eyes.
Another shiver rippled over her. ‘No, the clauses agreed upon are fine.’
Her father exhaled. ‘Carla—’
‘Everything is fine.’ She struggled to keep her voice from wobbling through the lie as tension escalated in the room. ‘Can we get on with it, please?’
Javier’s gaze sharpened. ‘You understand that, due to the delay in getting this signed, the cooling-off period will no longer apply? This contract, once signed, will be final and binding.’
Her fingers started to curl into her palms. Inhaling deeply, she placed them on the cool surface of the table and strove for composure. ‘Yes. I really don’t see why we’re going over this again. My lawyers have explained everything to me. I’m ready to sign your document. All I need, Mr Santino, is a pen.’
If she’d been expecting a reaction, Carla realised she would be sorely disappointed. His gaze flicked with almost cruel lack of interest from her to his lawyers. An imperious nod, and the documents were produced and laid out before them. An elegant ball pen bear
ing his name arrived before her.
Shakily, she picked it up, signed and countersigned where indicated. The contracts were witnessed and exchanged. And her fate was sealed.
She would become the exclusive face of carefully selected J Santino products, called upon for advertising campaigns and publicity events whenever he chose.
It was done. With any luck, she could now negotiate further time with the bank back in Tuscany and save her family home. Not that it’d ever been a real home. These days it was more a showpiece property for her father to bask in the success he claimed she wouldn’t have achieved without him.