wife’s apartment?”
“They are separated. Not that this is your concern.” Teresa’s voice held a mixture of anger and fear. “Get Alessandro home. Otherwise, we’re all in danger. This man could go to the press. He might be the press. And if he digs too far—”
“I understand. I’ll handle it.”
“—he will discover that Carlo has left his children all over the globe.”
Fabrizia rose from the bed. In a deliberate, commanding tone, one she rarely wielded, she said, “Teresa, I said I would handle it.”
A snicker came over the line. “You don’t frighten me, Fabrizia. You have far more to lose than I do. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my son.”
“As will I, Teresa.”
But Teresa never heard the words. She’d already disconnected the call. Fabrizia shook her head and returned the phone to the king’s nightstand. To the air, she said, “And you lost Carlo long ago. I never will.”
In fact, she intended to make love to him this very minute. When they finished in the shower, they’d make love again in the bedroom. Then, when they were fully sated, she’d tell her husband about the call. They would come to a decision together on what to do about their son.
And what to do about Teresa’s.
Chapter Seven
The man was sexy as all get-out, shaved area and stitches in the back of his head or not.
Emily sat patiently, hands in her lap as she perched on a leather settee and waited for Victor to come out of the dressing room. Rather than stop for a change of clothes at his hotel, which he claimed was well out of their way, he suggested they swing into a men’s shop close to the apartment they intended to view, which was located in the fashionable Puerto Madero district.
While the idea made sense on the surface, it was another thing in practice. Shopping with a man turned out to be a rather intimate experience. It was all the male clothing. The smells of cologne from the nearby men’s grooming counter. The photographs of male models on the walls…men who didn’t compare to the dark, sexy Victor, let alone the smiling, affable Victor she’d glimpsed at the soccer match.
She wondered what he’d look like without the close-clipped whiskers covering the lower half of his face.
“Tell me about this apartment,” Victor said over the faux walnut door of his dressing room stall.
She welcomed the question. Talking business helped keep her mind off the fact Victor was likely shirtless at the moment. “It’s just off one of the main thoroughfares, not far from public transportation. Fiftieth floor in a fifty-two story building.”
“Not the top?”
“It’s the top as far as apartments go. There’s a spa on the fifty-first floor and the fifty-second has a gym, swimming pool, and entertainment space.” She wracked her brain, trying to remember what else Maryam had said when she’d called to describe the place. “It’s modern inside, like the apartment building in Palermo. Security at the door. There are only three apartments on the entire floor, so you’d have a great deal of space and privacy. And it’s under budget.”
“That’s a plus.”
“Yes.” She flexed her fingers, deciding it was easier to broach the subject now, when she didn’t have to look Victor in the eye, than when he’d discussed his wish list with her over yesterday’s lunch. “By the way, you know your budget is high, even for Buenos Aires. You have your pick of most anything in the city. Are you sure that’s what you want to spend, especially given that all real estate purchases in Argentina are on a cash basis?”
The amount he’d given boggled her mind. While the Palermo apartment they’d visited yesterday morning was one of the priciest she’d visited for the show, his budget could stretch further. A lot further. What single man spent that kind of money on an apartment outside of a wealthy few in Manhattan or Tokyo? What did he do for a living? Most people in Buenos Aires with
“They are separated. Not that this is your concern.” Teresa’s voice held a mixture of anger and fear. “Get Alessandro home. Otherwise, we’re all in danger. This man could go to the press. He might be the press. And if he digs too far—”
“I understand. I’ll handle it.”
“—he will discover that Carlo has left his children all over the globe.”
Fabrizia rose from the bed. In a deliberate, commanding tone, one she rarely wielded, she said, “Teresa, I said I would handle it.”
A snicker came over the line. “You don’t frighten me, Fabrizia. You have far more to lose than I do. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my son.”
“As will I, Teresa.”
But Teresa never heard the words. She’d already disconnected the call. Fabrizia shook her head and returned the phone to the king’s nightstand. To the air, she said, “And you lost Carlo long ago. I never will.”
In fact, she intended to make love to him this very minute. When they finished in the shower, they’d make love again in the bedroom. Then, when they were fully sated, she’d tell her husband about the call. They would come to a decision together on what to do about their son.
And what to do about Teresa’s.
Chapter Seven
The man was sexy as all get-out, shaved area and stitches in the back of his head or not.
Emily sat patiently, hands in her lap as she perched on a leather settee and waited for Victor to come out of the dressing room. Rather than stop for a change of clothes at his hotel, which he claimed was well out of their way, he suggested they swing into a men’s shop close to the apartment they intended to view, which was located in the fashionable Puerto Madero district.
While the idea made sense on the surface, it was another thing in practice. Shopping with a man turned out to be a rather intimate experience. It was all the male clothing. The smells of cologne from the nearby men’s grooming counter. The photographs of male models on the walls…men who didn’t compare to the dark, sexy Victor, let alone the smiling, affable Victor she’d glimpsed at the soccer match.
She wondered what he’d look like without the close-clipped whiskers covering the lower half of his face.
“Tell me about this apartment,” Victor said over the faux walnut door of his dressing room stall.
She welcomed the question. Talking business helped keep her mind off the fact Victor was likely shirtless at the moment. “It’s just off one of the main thoroughfares, not far from public transportation. Fiftieth floor in a fifty-two story building.”
“Not the top?”
“It’s the top as far as apartments go. There’s a spa on the fifty-first floor and the fifty-second has a gym, swimming pool, and entertainment space.” She wracked her brain, trying to remember what else Maryam had said when she’d called to describe the place. “It’s modern inside, like the apartment building in Palermo. Security at the door. There are only three apartments on the entire floor, so you’d have a great deal of space and privacy. And it’s under budget.”
“That’s a plus.”
“Yes.” She flexed her fingers, deciding it was easier to broach the subject now, when she didn’t have to look Victor in the eye, than when he’d discussed his wish list with her over yesterday’s lunch. “By the way, you know your budget is high, even for Buenos Aires. You have your pick of most anything in the city. Are you sure that’s what you want to spend, especially given that all real estate purchases in Argentina are on a cash basis?”
The amount he’d given boggled her mind. While the Palermo apartment they’d visited yesterday morning was one of the priciest she’d visited for the show, his budget could stretch further. A lot further. What single man spent that kind of money on an apartment outside of a wealthy few in Manhattan or Tokyo? What did he do for a living? Most people in Buenos Aires with
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