The Ultimate Playboy(85)

                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.