The Ultimate Playboy

His smile felt tight. ‘Sì.’

‘I...I thought...’

‘That I was a complete monster who cut everyone out of my life because of one incident? I’m not a complete bastard, Ruby.’

‘No, you’re not,’ she murmured.

Her smile held none of the vivacity he’d come to expect. To crave. He wanted to win that smile back. Wanted to share what plans he’d put in place before they left Belize. But unfamiliar fear held him back.

Would she judge him for doing too little too late?

He watched her turn a full circle in the large living room, her gaze taking in and dismissing the highly sought-after pieces of art and exclusive decorative accessories most guests tended to gush over. The location of his apartment alone—on a thirtieth floor overlooking Central Park—was enough to pull a strong reaction from even the most jaded guest.

Ruby seemed more interested in the doors leading out of the room. ‘Do you mind showing me to the kitchen? I’d like to see where I’ll be working and if there’s any equipment I need to hire. I should also have the final menu for you shortly. If there’s anything you need to change I’d appreciate it if you let me know asap.’

Again he felt that unsettled notion of unravelling control. But then...when it came to Ruby, had he held control in the first place?

It certainly hadn’t felt like it when he’d walked in on Ruby and Michel. Hearing her moan like that had been a stiletto wound to his heart.

In his jealousy and blind fury had he taken things too far? He tried to catch her eye as he walked beside her towards the kitchen but she refused to look at him.

He’d never had a problem with being given the silent treatment. But right now he wanted Ruby to speak, to tell him what was on her mind.

‘What I’ve seen so far of the menu’s fine. It’s the perfect blend of continental Europe and good old-fashioned Italian. The guests will appreciate it.’

Her only reaction was to nod. They reached the kitchen and she moved away from him.

She inspected the room with a thoroughness that spoke of a love for her profession. Her long, elegant fingers ran over appliances and worktops and he found his disgruntlement escalating.

Dio, was he really so pathetic as to be jealous of stainless-steel gadgets now? He shook his head and stepped back. ‘I’m leaving for the office. We will speak this evening.’

* * *

Four hours later, he was pacing his office just as he had been last week.

Only this time there was no sign of the ennui that had gripped him. Instead, a different form of restlessness prowled through him, one that was unfamiliar and mildly terrifying.

He laughed mirthlessly and pushed a hand through his hair. Narciso wasn’t afraid to admit so far he wasn’t loving being thirty. He seemed to be questioning his every action. He was even stalling on the deal with Vladimir Rudenko. Did he really need to start another media empire in Russia?

Going ahead with it would mean he’d have to spend time in Moscow. Away from New York. Away from Ruby. Dio, what the hell was she doing in his head?

Gritting his teeth, he strode to his desk and pressed the intercom that summoned his driver.

The journey from Wall Street to his penthouse took less than twenty minutes but it felt like a lifetime. Slamming the front door, he strode straight into the kitchen. He needed to tell her of his plans. Needed her to know he’d chosen a different path...

She was elbow deep in some sort of mixture. She glanced up, eyes wide with surprise. ‘You’re back.’

‘We need to talk.’

‘What about?’

‘About Giacomo—’ he tensed, then continued ‘—about my father.’

Her eyes grew wider. ‘Yes?’

‘I’ve decided to end—’

A phone beeped on the counter. A look of unease slid over her features as she wiped her hands and activated the message. A few seconds later, all trace of colour left her cheeks. ‘I have to go.’

He frowned. ‘Go where?’

‘Midtown. I’ll be back in an hour.’

‘I’ll drive you—’

‘No. I’ll be fine. Really. I’ve been cooped up in here all afternoon. I need the fresh air.’

‘Fresh air in New York is a misnomer.’ He continued to watch her, noting her edginess. ‘Is it your parents?’

Her fingers twisted together. ‘No, it’s not.’ Sincerity shone from her eyes.

He nodded. ‘Fine. I just wanted you to know, you have my backing one hundred per cent. After the party, I’ll have the papers drawn up to provide the funds you need for the restaurant.’

‘Th-thank you. That’s good news.’ The definite lack of pleasure on her face and voice caused his spine to stiffen. She reached him and tried to slide past.