Dedication

To all the readers out there who’ve written to let me know how much they’ve loved the Worth It

series: I hope you enjoy this final glimpse of the Worth family.

Chapter One

“We need to talk.”
With those four little words, everything within Anastasia Renaldi went completely still—with the

exception of her heart. It felt as if it would pound straight out of her chest and land on the floor. “Can
it not wait until—after?”

Giorgio Renaldi’s lawyer shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving her face. The grave

expression Paolo Molinelli wore didn’t reassure her. It sent her already-frayed nerves straight into
frazzled territory. “It’s imperative that I prepare you for what’s about to happen.”

Stasia rested her hand on his forearm, ironically offering him reassurance. “Mr. Molinelli.” She

gave him the respect he deserved—she’d known him since she was a little girl, recalled when he used
to slip her a piece of caramel candy whenever she accompanied her father to his offices. He’d been a
part of her life since she could remember. “You’re about to read my father’s will to the family. Surely
whatever you have to say may wait until it’s over, no?”

The old man pressed his thin lips together and shook his head once. “I must tell you now, Stasia.

The news in the will…it is not good.”

She frowned. Was Renaldi not financially sound? Ridiculous. She knew the company was solid

and its worth had skyrocketed in the last three years alone, despite the world economic woes. “And
what does that have to do with me specifically? Is this not news for my brothers to be prepared for as
well?”

“It has everything to do with you and only you.” Molinelli took a deep breath, appeared ready to

launch into the details but was interrupted by the arrival of her three older brothers. Their late father’s
most loyal and faithful friend and employee offered them all a weak smile. “Ah, are we ready to
begin?”

“Absolutely.” Her eldest brother, Matteo, nodded, his expression stern, his jaw hard as granite.

Only his dark brown eyes, filled with such sorrow, gave away any hint of emotion. He’d taken the
loss of their father especially hard, being as he was the most like him. But they had all taken it hard.
The illness had come fast, taken him even faster. “Though Mother…she won’t be able to attend this
afternoon.”

“Not a surprise. There is much she doesn’t want to face.” Molinelli’s sigh was world-weary. “Let

us get on with it.”

Stasia entered the room ahead of her brothers, her mind racing. What could her father’s lawyer

want to warn her about before the actual reading? And why wasn’t their mother there? What could she
want to avoid? She knew Claudia Renaldi was in deep mourning…they all were. Her father died not
even a week ago. Within a month of his terminal cancer diagnosis, they’d lost him, their mother at his
side. She’d become inconsolable after his death, hadn’t left her room since the funeral.

Perhaps she’d made herself ill. Stasia made a mental note to go visit her as soon as the reading was

over.

“Shall we begin, then?” Molinelli asked once everyone was seated. He didn’t look in Stasia’s

direction.

“Get on with it.” Her brother Rafael had absolutely no patience, his irritated growl loud in the

otherwise small, quiet meeting room.

“Very well.” Molinelli cleared his throat, settled his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose.

Nerves jumped in her stomach when he glanced up at her, their gazes locking before he hurriedly

looked away.

Something wasn’t right. Whatever the man was about to say was going to be…bad.
And she didn’t know why.
Clutching her hands together, she listened as he rattled off the usual legal details, the “of sound

mind and body” declaration, the “I bequeath this and that to my sons, my estate, to my company”. One
mention of their mother, who inherited the three houses they owned.

No mention of his daughter. Ever.
After fifteen minutes of an endless list of assets, donations and divisions, her father finally

acknowledged her.

“‘And now to my daughter, Anastasia, my darling, darling girl who doesn’t belong to me, who is

not of my blood. How I wish I could make it so.’” Molinelli glanced over the top of his reading
glasses before he continued. “‘It pains me to do this. I am not a cruel man, but only recently did I
discover this betrayal and so therefore, consequences must be met. Long ago, twenty-six years ago, to
be exact, I split from your mother.’”

Molinelli paused, letting the words hang heavy in the silence before he continued. “‘She left me,

unhappy with our marriage, looking for excitement and adventure. She found it. I didn’t know, but she
found it and she delivered it to me during what I once believed was one of my proudest moments.’”

“What the hell is going on?” Rafe interrupted, the irritation in his voice clear. “Get on with it,

man.”

“I’m only reading what your father dictated to me, word for word.” Molinelli sniffed, offended.

“The more you interrupt, the longer it will take.”

Stasia’s heart stilled. Everything around her slowed, as if time came to a stop. What her father’s

words implied, she could hardly fathom.

“Leave him be,” Matt said sternly to Rafe before he turned to Molinelli. “Carry on.”
“‘Due to the facts that cannot be denied, I must disinherit Anastasia Renaldi from my will, from my

life. She is not a part of me, not of my flesh and blood, for she belongs to another. A bitter rival who
obtained his revenge against me by filling my wife’s belly with his child.’” The words dripped with
disgust, even read in Molinelli’s thin voice.

Shock coursed through Stasia, rendered her silent, still. Completely frozen and confused. Whatever

did the words mean? She wasn’t his daughter? She wasn’t a Renaldi?

“‘No longer may Stasia work for Renaldi. No longer may Stasia take the name Renaldi. She must

assume her new name, for she is no child of mine, no true sister to my sons. She belongs to another
family.’”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her brothers all turned to look at her, the disbelief clearly

written all over their paling faces. She tried to speak but only a sob came forth and she covered her
face with her hands, crying in earnest.

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real. Surely she was dreaming.
“Is that all?” Matteo asked, his teeth clenched.
Stasia wiped her damp eyes, settled her hands in her lap. Is that

all

, her brother asked? How could

there be more? She couldn’t take it. Why would her

father

be so cruel? And who could she belong to?

“This all sounds like complete falsehoods.” Her other brother, Vincenzo, piped up. “Why would

our father do such a thing? He adored Anastasia.”

“He did, indeed. So the betrayal was extra hard for him when he discovered it,” Molinelli

explained. “Now please, let me finish.”

They all resumed their silence, Stasia keeping her gaze locked on her lap, her clutched hands that

rested there.

Be strong.
“‘It is with utter disgust that I acknowledge Anastasia Renaldi is the daughter of the late Michael

Worth of Worth Luxury. May my deceitful wife, Claudia, be able to live with herself after all these
years of passing off Stasia as my own.’” Molinelli cleared his throat. “‘And to my delightful, most
likely devastated Anastasia. I am so very sorry it has to end this way. That I must make you pay for
your mother’s trickery is wrong. I know this, but I am hurt and stubborn. There is no other way to
make Claudia see. The damage her betrayal has brought upon this family is devastating. I hope
someday, my dearest Stasia, you will understand.’”

The silence in the room was deafening. No wonder their mother didn’t want to attend the will

reading. Bitterness trickled through Stasia like melting snow. Her mother looked like an opportunistic
slut compared to the pillar of fashion society everyone revered her to be.

“So Stasia is not allowed to work for the company any longer.” It wasn’t a question on Matteo’s

part.

“She is not. Allowing her to continue within her position is possible grounds for termination. For

all of you.”

“And who the hell would terminate us?” Rafe asked, his anger written all over his face. “It is

our

company. And she is our sister, no matter what that will says.”

“Just because the three of you have shares in Renaldi Accessories doesn’t mean much when you

can still be overridden by the board of directors. Originally your father’s will gave Anastasia enough
shares that the four of you held the majority. That’s now changed. It would do you well to remember
that.”

That her brothers would still stand up for her warmed her heart.
And then she remembered they weren’t her brothers any longer. That her father’s will forced them

to ostracize her, push her to discover her new family.

The Worths.

Chapter Two

One month later

“Stasia Renaldi is here to see you,” the voice chirped through the intercom.
Gavin Westmore leaned forward in his chair. “Send her in.” His latest assistant had a voice that

was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Squeaky, and it set him on edge, not to mention she had issues
with filing.

It appeared he was on his way to hiring a new secretary, and soon.
Closing out of a few programs on his computer, he slipped on his glasses, part of his stern, serious

attorney guise. At the age of twenty-nine, he was the youngest partner at Keegan and Pearson, which
made many potential clients nervous. Going to such lengths to prove his capability was annoying to
say the least.

And he wasn’t about to let this new possible client slip through his fingers. He knew everything

there was to know about the Anastasia Renaldi controversy. It had been the most talked about story in
all of Manhattan high society for the last four weeks. A messy disinheritance, a despondent mother
who refused to speak with her children—let alone the media—and three angry, somewhat protective
men swirling about one single woman who appeared as defenseless as a newborn baby.

In other words, she was pure tabloid fodder. Which he could potentially make a ton of money off

of.

A discreet knock sounded at the door and then it swung open, the assistant sweeping in, flashing

him a saucy wink. ”Miss Renaldi is here.”

He ignored the subtle flirtation. The woman was a complete pain.
Standing straight, he pasted on his most pleasant smile as he rounded his desk to approach

Anastasia Renaldi. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Renaldi. Though I’m sorry we’re having to do
this under such dire circumstances.” He doubted they would run in the same social circles, doubted
even further that a chance meeting between the two of them would ever happen without this family
mess pushing them together.

A pity, considering how damn beautiful she was. Thick, wavy locks that hung past her shoulders,

her hair was a dark, rich brown, which only emphasized the pale creaminess of her skin. Her hand
trembled in his grip, though her shake was firm. She was respected in the fashion industry, a
powerhouse force in a tiny package.

Despite her reputation and the determined expression on her pretty face, he saw the ravages of her

family troubles in the turbulent depths of her gaze. She appeared to be a woman barely holding it
together.

And she’d come to him for help.
He released her hand, indicated a chair. “Won’t you please sit down?”
She did so, her black skirt riding up the slightest bit, revealing slender legs. He knew she was

attractive, but hadn’t expected the immediate rush of lust flowing through his veins.

Clearing his throat, he focused on the task at hand. “I heard about your father. I’m sorry for your

loss.”

Her lush mouth twisted. “Thank you, Mr. Westmore.”
“Please. Call me Gavin.”
“Then call me Stasia.” Her gaze met his, a smoldering, sultry blue. “Please.”
His tie threatening to choke him, he looked away, focused for a moment instead on the serene

landscape photo that hung on the wall, just above her head. “How can I be of assistance to you,
Miss…Stasia?”

She straightened in her seat, her shoulders square, her delicate jaw set. “I need you to get me in to

see the Worths.”

“I don’t work for them,” he started, but she cut him off.
“I know you don’t. But you went to school with Alexander Worth. I know the two of you are still

friends.”

“Mere acquaintances.” He’d gone to college with Alex on a scholarship he’d earned every dime of,

whereas Alex had been handed his education on a platinum-trimmed, solid gold plate. “I haven’t seen
him in years.”

She lifted one dark, elegant brow. “You’re lying.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you’re lying.” She crossed her arms in front of her, the action accentuating her already

plump breasts. “You were photographed with Alex and his wife recently at some sort of charity event.
I saw it in the

Post.

”

Damn. He frowned. She was right. They’d been closer in college. Real life had taken up their time

and Alex was a family man, spending most of his free time with his wife and children. “My apologies,
I forgot.”

An almost feral smile curled her lips. “How easily you forget. Perhaps I’m making the wrong

choice in you, Mr. Westmore.”

“Gavin.”
“Gavin.” She nodded toward him. “Do you or do you not know Alexander Worth?”
“I do. Yes, we went to college together. Yes, I see him socially on the rare occasion, but we don’t

normally move in the same social circles, I promise you.” He was on the fringe, considered working
class amongst New York’s wealthiest.

“That doesn’t matter. It means that you can get me in.” Her lips thinned. “He won’t see me.”
“Have you tried Hunter or Rhett?” He referred to Alex’s younger brothers.
“None of them will see me. I approached Rhett at a party right after the will reading and we spoke

once more after when he cancelled the meeting we were supposed to have, but that was weeks ago.
With every inquiry I make, I’m directed to their lawyers.”

“You don’t have a lawyer representing you in this matter?” He found that hard to believe.
“Oh, I did but he couldn’t get me what I want, so I fired him.” Her gaze fixed on him. “Only you can

help me.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He smoothed his fingers along the length of his tie, trying to calm his

agitated nerves. The woman made him uneasy, in a sexual way more than anything, which he found
strange. Unnerving.

Slightly exhilarating, if he was being truthful.
“It’s true. Everyone involved wants to handle this properly. No discussions, no emotions, just

appearances in the courtroom and nothing else. I can’t stand that.” Leaning forward, she gripped the
edge of his sleek desk, her short, unpolished fingernails a surprise. “I need to talk to those three men
who are my new brothers. I need to explain to them how I’m suffering.”

“And how exactly are you suffering? Where are your other brothers? The Renaldis?”
She slapped the edge of the desk so loudly the sound nearly made him jump in his chair. “My

brothers’ hands are tied. My—father’s will does not allow them to assist me in any sort of legal
matter. I am completely on my own.”

“Where is your mother?” He’d heard the story of poor devastated Claudia Renaldi, holed up in the

Renaldi family compound on Italy’s Amalfi Coast. Was she still there? Hiding from the shame and
embarrassment of her long-ago torrid affair while her daughter suffered the repercussions?

Considering the circumstances, his opinion of Claudia Renaldi wasn’t the best.
“She’s out of the country.” Stasia waved a negligent hand. “She cannot help me. She is too

consumed with grief and guilt to be of any use.”

“Are you sure she cannot help you?” Her mother could at least bear some of the embarrassment and

scandal.

“I think I would know my mother better than you,

Gavin.

”

He refrained from making a rude remark. Not that he believed she was a potential client anymore.

“So what exactly do you want from me?” She certainly wasn’t here for his legal services.

“I want you to help me meet the Worths. Face to face, so we can speak without lawyers breathing

down our necks.” She smiled prettily. “With the exception of you, of course.”

“I won’t do it.” He stood and started for the door, wanting her out of his office immediately. What

she asked for made him uncomfortable—and it was downright unethical. She wanted him to use his
connection to the Worth family so she could somehow convince them she deserved a piece of the
Worth empire?

He didn’t think so.
Unfortunately, she didn’t follow him to the door, merely remained in her seat, though at least she’d

turned to watch him. “I will pay you whatever is necessary.”

Now he was truly insulted. “Absolutely not.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re a lawyer. Why the sudden need to find your high and mighty ethical

standards now?” She stood, her movements slow, downright sultry as she approached. “This has
nothing to do with Worth’s financial holdings. I want to know who my family is. I want to talk to
them, express my feelings in regards to all of this so they won’t think I’m only after the money.”

Gavin didn’t believe a word she said. Money made the world go ’round. And the more money a

person made, the worse it became. This woman was no exception. She was upset because she’d lost
her place in one family fortune and was being shut out from another. “I’m sure you do, but I don’t
think I can be the one who can help you. I’m sorry.”

She stared at him, didn’t utter a word. As if she could reach into the very depths of his soul and see

it—and him—perfectly. A rather unsettling sensation, considering he had a few secrets.

Like how he still felt like a fraud. Even after all these years.
“Such a shame,” she finally said, her voice husky, and dare he think it, sexy. “I thought you were a

man who valued family. You aren’t married?”

He bristled like a dodgy old man. “My personal life is none of your business.”
“Which means you aren’t. You probably don’t have a girlfriend either.” She laughed but it rang

false. “Short of getting on my knees and begging, I don’t know how else to plead my case.”

The image her words conjured was disturbingly arousing. The lushly beautiful Anastasia Renaldi

on her knees, in the most prime location possible, begging him for…whatever he wanted.

He broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.
“Begging won’t be necessary,” he said rather abruptly, pissed at himself for even thinking of this

woman pleading with him in that soft, slightly accented voice, her lush mouth poised and ready,
hovering just above his…

“What a shame.” Her smile was one of a temptress. He knew in an instant she was trouble for both

his mind and his libido. “Well, I thank you for your time.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any assistance.” The lie fell easily from his lips. Taking her on as a

client would’ve been a disaster. He wasn’t one of those lawyers who had secret relationships with
their clients, and he’d heard of plenty of them. He’d always taken the high road, done the right thing,
had prided himself on his reputation and how he appeared to both his peers and to his clients.

Working with Stasia Renaldi would’ve been detrimental to his reputation. He knew this without a

doubt.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.” She put extra emphasis on the word pleasure. Either she was

trying to flirt with him or it came naturally.

“You as well, Miss Renaldi.” He held the office door open for her and she paused, her gaze

meeting his, her lips slightly pursed as she contemplated him.

“Perhaps we’ll run into each other in the future.”
Probably not, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. “Perhaps we will.”
“I look forward to seeing you again.” With a flashing smile, she strode away, his gaze falling to her

gently swaying hips, the subtle shift of her backside as she headed toward the elevator on the opposite
side of the room.

“What did she want?” His assistant’s snide voice broke through his lusty thoughts, and he glared at

her, astounded at her impertinence.

“None of your damn business,” he growled before he went into his office, slamming the door

behind him.

He’d call HR and have her terminated by the end of the day. And then immediately go in search of a

male assistant.

Women. They would be the death of him.

Stasia fled the building as fast as she could, her nerves shattered from her encounter with Gavin

Westmore.

He’d disapproved from the moment he set eyes on her. The disdainful expression on his too-

handsome face, and the glasses he wore, couldn’t hide the lethal coldness glittering in his green eyes.
And the sneer in his voice, the finality of his immediate rejection…all of it hurt.

And made her angry.
Determination filling her, she hurried down the sidewalk, not bothering to flag down a taxi. She

needed to let off some steam, ponder what her next move needed to be.

Pompous ass wouldn’t get her a quick meeting with the Worths. Oh, she’d met them before, but

under totally different circumstances. Various fashion industry get-togethers throughout the years,
where a person said a quick hi over cocktails and appetizers. She’d confronted Rhett Worth a few
weeks ago at the Worth perfume launch, but his sweet girlfriend had sent her packing.

Lawyers loved money. They lived for it. She’d been perfectly willing to supply that asshole

whatever outrageous fees he might’ve charged her and he still turned her down.

It made no sense. Her reaction to him made no sense either. She’d never been turned by a pretty

face before. Her three brothers were all darkly handsome men. Working in the fashion industry,
everyone was beautiful. So why such an immediate attraction to a man who looked at her as if she
were a disgusting bug he’d just squashed under his shoe?

She stopped in front of a store window, stared at the display of lovely jewelry laid out. It was

simply designed. Delicate hammered gold shapes dangling from thin chains, whimsical curlicues and
basic circles, the kind of jewelry she’d loved to design for Renaldi Accessories. She’d finally been

ready to make the next step, to become a full-fledged designer for the family company, when her
father died.

And now she couldn’t work for them, couldn’t be a part of the company she so passionately threw

herself into from the time she was thirteen, a silly little teenaged girl working at her family’s
company. Her father had indulged her completely, loving how she flourished.

He’d taken it all away from her with a few rudely chosen words in his will. No longer with them

so she couldn’t yell at him, curse him. Tell him what a cruel, terrible man he was, for taking away her
birthright.

But it was a birthright that hadn’t belonged to her in the first place. She wasn’t a Renaldi. She was

a Worth. Ostracized by both families, she didn’t belong anywhere.

Fighting the tears that threatened to spill, she blinked hard, turned away from the window to stare at

the busy street before her. Crowds of impatient New Yorkers pushed past her, jostling her as they
walked by and she fought through the crowd, stopping on the edge of the dirty sidewalk so she could
wave down a cab. She hated New York, much preferred the peacefulness of Italy, specifically the
Renaldi family compound where she had spent much of her childhood.

She’d been sheltered, the youngest of her mother’s children and the only girl. Protected by her

bossy big brothers, coddled by the man who raised her, instilled with the belief she could do
anything, be whatever she wanted to be.

And now she stood alone, feeling isolated, while her true family was in Italy. Her brothers wanted

to help, were doing their best, but they were stuck. Besides, they had their own lives to live. All three
of them were busy running Renaldi Accessories. Matteo was married and had a child, Vincenzo was
newly married as well and Rafe was consumed with his work. They had limited time to help their
baby sister, and their father had ensured they would lose everything if they defied his wishes.

Her mother was holed up in the very place Claudia loved the most, refusing telephone calls,

refusing to speak to anyone, even Stasia. That was the most frustrating part of it all, how selfish her
mother was behaving.

What about her? What was she going to do with her life? No one would talk to her, though the

industry was all abuzz talking

about

her. Waiting to see what move she might make next, they all

expected her to go after the Worths and demand her rightful piece of the Worth family fortune.

No one realized she could care less about the money. She was looking for more information about

the long-deceased Michael Worth, information about these three men who were her half-brothers. She
was looking for a connection to something, to someone. Anyone.

She was looking for a family to cling to. And so far, she had nothing.
No one.

Chapter Three

The cocktail party was large, making it easier for Stasia to slip inside unnoticed. The restaurant

was one of those typical chic Manhattan hotspots, with the latest in trendy food and expensive
cocktails. Where everyone wanted to be spotted and the paparazzi lingered outside, hoping to get a
shot of a famous celebrity.

She wasn’t a celebrity, but her story was well known enough to have hit all the major magazines,

including a two-page spread in

People.

Not that the paparazzi necessarily cared about her. Thankfully,

it was cold outside, easy for her to wrap a black cashmere scarf over her hair and keep her head
averted as she walked by the front of the building toward the entrance.

The few photographers hanging around didn’t look at her twice.
A pretty hipster-type woman who looked barely legal and like she played in her mama’s make-up

drawer waited behind the hostess’ counter, a cool smile faintly curving her ruby red lips. “How may I
help you?”

“I’m here for the Intermix party.” Stasia unwound the scarf from her head and stashed it in her

satchel bag. Intermix was a well-known fashion public relations company and were having their
annual bash to celebrate their clients.

“Ah, the event is located upstairs.” She waved a pale hand toward the stairwell to the right.

“Someone will be taking names at the door, so do be prepared.”

Snobby little bitch, Stasia thought after she left the hostess without a thank-you, carefully taking her

time as she walked up the stairs. The muffled sounds of the party reached her, indicating it was in full
swing, and she wondered how the hell she would slip past the bouncer at the door.

Crashing parties wasn’t her style, but damn it, rumor was Rhett Worth and his perfumer girlfriend,

Gabriella Durand, were going to be in attendance this evening. That she’d resorted to such desperate
actions didn’t thrill her, but Stasia didn’t have a choice. She was tired of roadblocks constantly
thrown in her face at every turn. She needed answers.

She had a feeling Rhett would be the easiest one to get them from, especially since they had already

spoken once. He knew her plight, as did his girlfriend. Perhaps she could elicit sympathy from them.

Whatever it takes…
At the top of the stairs, she spotted the open double doors, the people mingling within. Most

everyone clutched a cocktail in one hand, nearly all of them dressed in black. The room was filled
with varying levels of conversation, and her head throbbed just thinking of making her way through
the chattering throng.

Squaring her shoulders, she ignored her potential headache and approached the doors, her steps

determined, her gaze averted just enough that she couldn’t make eye contact with the young woman
holding a clipboard, a headset curled around her sleek, bright red hair.

“Excuse me, ma’am? I need to check your name against the list,” the woman said, her voice weak.
“I’m sorry, my boyfriend is waiting inside.” Stasia flashed an apologetic smile over her shoulder

as she hurried toward the open doors. “I need to find him. I’m sure he’s mad at me for being so late.”

“But, ma’am, no one is allowed in unless they’re on the list.” The girl glanced around in obvious

irritation before she started inside the room, following Stasia.

Shit.

The girl was way too close to lose her, even in this crowd. Stasia was going to get kicked out.

And even worse, people were already starting to notice the commotion.

“Your name, please?” The woman tapped Stasia on the shoulder and she had no choice but to turn

around. Stasia found the short woman stopped just before her, clipboard poised and ready for her
perusal.

Stasia parted her lips, her brain scrambling for some sort of lame excuse when strong, warm

fingers curled around her upper arm, jerking her close to an equally strong, warm body. “She’s with
me,” said a familiar deep voice.

Her arm tingled at the man’s possessive touch, even through the fabric of her sleeve. She glanced

up, shock coursing through her despite knowing it was Gavin Westmore who’d somehow swooped in
and saved her. He studied her like some sort of hawk contemplating his prey, his mouth firm, his
green gaze blazing with ire.

“Uh…” The man’s nearness had robbed her of words, something that had never happened before.
“You’re on the list, right, sir?” The girl glanced at her precious piles of paper with an endless

string of names.

“I am. Westmore is my last name.”
She flipped through the stapled papers, trailed her index finger down the last page, skimming her

black painted nail across his name when she spotted it. “It doesn’t show you were bringing a guest.
There’s no plus one here.” Her questioning gaze met Gavin’s with a mocking smile.

“It was a last-minute arrangement.” He slipped his arm around Stasia’s waist, drew her so close

her body collided with his. “As she mentioned, she knew I would be upset if she didn’t show up.”

God, the nerve of the man. Holding her to him as if he owned her. His big hand settled on her hip,

his touch seeming to brand her as his. She stiffened in his embrace, his grip tightening as if to
dissuade her.

She beamed up at him, trying her best to ignore the buzz of electricity coursing through her. “I’m so

sorry I’m late,

honey.

Work kept me extremely busy and I lost track of time.” She hoped she didn’t

sound like she wanted to choke on her words.

His intense gaze met hers, his handsome face stoic, but his green eyes had gone wide. She smiled

blissfully at him as if she hadn’t a care in the world. And she leaned her cheek against his shoulder
for the briefest moment, cuddling him, for the love of God.

Not that he didn’t feel good. The fine fabric of his suit jacket rubbing her cheek, the spicy

masculine scent of him, it all went straight to her head. Damn it.

Hopefully she was putting on a convincing show for the woman who watched them with shrewd

eyes. For someone so small and who appeared so young, it looked like she’d been given a false story
more than once.

“Hmm, well, I guess I’ll let you in.” The woman sniffed, whipping the wrinkled papers of her list

back into place. “Next time, though, I advise you to leave your girlfriend’s name when you RSVP.”

“Noted.” Gavin nodded, his fingers caressing Stasia’s side. She barely restrained the shiver that

moved through her. Hopefully he didn’t notice. “I appreciate you giving us no trouble.”

“Anytime.” She shot him a flirtatious look before she flounced away, her overly red hair swinging

as she walked.

“Get your hands off me,” Stasia muttered the moment the woman was gone, trying her best to

extract herself from his grip.

He tightened his arm around her, guiding her toward the bar nearby. “What the hell are you doing

here?” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

“What’s it matter to you? Not like I’m your client.” It still hurt, his rejection of her. No one had

rejected her the first twenty-four years of her life and now all of a sudden it was all she dealt with.

“Well, at least I was invited, which I can’t say for you.”

She winced, hating that he was right, that he had the upper hand. And was clearly enjoying that fact

too. “Just let me go so I can be on my merry way.”

“And what’s your purpose for crashing this party anyway, hmm? I’m surprised you’re not invited. I

know Intermix has handled Renaldi advertising in the past.”

They stood in line for the bar, Stasia keeping her head down for fear of anyone recognizing her. She

hadn’t thought of that, her only focus on getting into the party and getting to Rhett. “Since I’m not
considered a part of Renaldi any longer, I wasn’t invited.”

“What about your brothers? They couldn’t get you in?” He sounded incredulous.
“Of course not.” She lifted her head, met his confused gaze. Didn’t he read the gossip mags? They

were filled with Renaldi secrets, every last lurid detail. “They can hardly speak to me for fear of
being disinherited like I was.”

He glanced around before he spoke again, his grip gentling on her though he didn’t let go. “That’s

fucking ridiculous,” he muttered.

She laughed. The polished, indignant lawyer was angry. And she liked it. “Indeed it is. But they’re

not here. They’re all in Italy at the moment. And Renaldi hasn’t used Intermix for over a year.”

“Hmm, but Worth uses Intermix.”
Whoops, he caught on. No surprise, the man was too smart for his own good. “I have no idea what

you’re talking about.” She lifted her chin, extracted herself from his grip and stepped away from him.

Though she didn’t leave the line for the bar. She was desperate for a drink. Maybe it would calm

her frazzled nerves.

“Don’t lie. You’re not very good at it.” He stepped closer, leaning into her so his mouth rested just

above her ear. “I should toss your pretty little ass out of here.”

Was it wrong that she warmed at the compliment wrapped into the threat? “I’ll make a huge scene.”
He cocked a dark brow and she looked away. “Oh, really?”
Nodding, she kept her gaze focused on the very busy bartender mixing drinks at an incredible

speed. “I’ll make like the bad girlfriend and call you all sorts of names.”

“I’ve been called every name in the book, sweetheart. You can’t shock me,” he drawled like the

cocky ass that he most likely was.

She glared at him. “I’ll boldly declare that you’re a terrible lover.”
He shrugged. “It’s a lie, but go ahead.”
“I’ll scream you have a tiny dick too.” She smirked when his gaze hardened. “Oh, and I’ll also say

that you come too fast for a girl to get her turn.”

“You gotta take it personal, hmm?”
“It’s the only way to shut you up,” she said gleefully, thankful when the people in front of her

grabbed their drinks and left. She stepped up to the bar. “A glass of wine, please. A chardonnay.”

She could feel his gaze burning as he watched her, the waves of anger that vibrated off his rigid

body. Well, good. He got to her, now she got to him. Seemed like a fair trade in her screwed up mind.

The cute bartender handed her the glass with a wink and a smile and she took it from him, dropping

a dollar in the tip jar before she walked away. “Thanks.”

Gavin followed behind her, not bothering to grab a drink. “If you think I’m going to stand by and let

you approach Rhett Worth without intervening, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Why do you care?” She sipped from her glass, the cool liquid sliding down her throat.
“I don’t want you to disrupt the party or the Worth family.”
“If you didn’t want me to disrupt the family, then you should’ve taken me on as a client. You

could’ve handled this entire situation the way you wanted to.” She smirked, though within nerves

jangled.

“You were trying to bribe me so you could meet with them. That’s not how I would’ve done it.”
“Really?” She turned on him. “And how would you’ve done it?”
“I would’ve scheduled a meeting. Something a little more dignified than this sort of fiasco, you

crashing a party so you can chase him down and ambush him.” Gavin shook his head.

“Me? Ambush Rhett Worth? Give me a break.” She downed half her wine, ignoring the little buzz

from the alcohol that went through her. She could do this. She could confront Rhett and convince him
she wanted to talk with him about the family, nothing more. “Have you seen the size of that man? He
could take me, no problem.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.” He stepped in closer, so close she could feel

the warmth of his body radiate toward her. Towering over her, the glower on his face, those beautiful
eyes sparkling from behind the glasses he wore, he was beyond intimidating. The slightest bit sexy
too. “You don’t need to make an ass out of yourself, Stasia. Downing a glass of wine and cornering
your long-lost brother at a business cocktail party isn’t the way to go about this.”

She froze at his words, hating the fact that he was right. And that he had no qualms calling her out

on it.

Closing her eyes briefly, she swallowed hard, desperate to stave off the tears. She refused to cry.

She’d shed enough tears to fill an ocean. “Then tell me,” she croaked, her voice thick with emotion.
“Tell me how I can make this right. Tell me you’ll help me figure out how to get to my newfound
brothers so I can talk to them without all the worry over me possibly trying to sue them and take them
for all they’re worth.”

In different circumstances, she would’ve laughed over the unintentional pun. But now was not the

time for laughter. There was no joy in her life. Only confusion and pain.

He was quiet for so long, she knew he was going to reject her. Again. She couldn’t give him the

satisfaction of doing so to her face. Again. Whirling on her heel, she started to leave, gave a quiet
little yelp when he clamped his fingers around her arm and jerked her back to him.

“Let me go,” she said again, fighting against his firm hold.
“No.” He turned her to face him. “I’ll help you.”

Stasia’s jaw dropped open in apparent shock, her glassy-with-tears gaze meeting his. She looked

ready to cry, and the very last thing he wanted to deal with was a crying woman. “Are you serious?”

Slowly, Gavin nodded, releasing his hold on her. This was probably a huge-ass mistake, but he had

to do it. Had to help her out and guide her through this mess her two families had become. If no one
untangled this disaster it could end up destroying her. “I’ll help you. It goes against my better
judgment, but I will.”

She narrowed her eyes. Not the right thing to say, but he couldn’t help it. She had to know he was

still reluctant about this entire situation. “If you’re not going to be on my side one-hundred percent,
then it’s probably best you not represent me.”

He blew out a frustrated breath. They were going round and round in circles and it was getting

damn irritating fast. “I said I would take you on, I’m taking you on. But first things first.”

She frowned. “What?”
“We need to get you out of here.”
He took her by the arm—again—because it was as if he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She was

small, soft and so innately feminine. He was drawn to her, there was no denying it, as stupid as it
was. Emotion, lust, whatever he wanted to call the odd feelings that overcame him when she was

near, shouldn’t cloud his judgment. He’d never allowed it to happen before. His reputation painted
him cold, calculating, ruthless in negotiation. An unfeeling machine was how a fellow attorney had
most recently described him.

What he was experiencing in this woman’s presence wasn’t cold or unfeeling. Looked like

Anastasia Renaldi was the exception to his long-standing rule.

She struggled against his hold, doing her best to get away from him. Ironic considering how much

he wanted to be near her, despite his reluctance. “You’re not going to let me talk to him, are you.” She
made it a statement, not a question.

“Not here, where anyone could overhear your very personal conversation and sell all the gory

details to some slimy tabloid. Come on.” He led her through the room, nodding and smiling at
passersby. It wasn’t prudent to leave, not yet. Didn’t want to give the woman monitoring the front
door any more fodder to consider. It was bad enough they’d made that particular spectacle earlier.
They didn’t need to make another one.

Yet he was starving and exhausted after a long day at work, and dealing with a hostile woman was

pushing him closer and closer to his breaking point. All that soft femininity was clearly a façade—she
was hard as steel and more determined than any woman he’d ever met.

Determined to get at a fortune, no doubt. He was a cynical bastard; he knew this, and he’d seen it

all. What Stasia Renaldi wanted to do, what she wanted from him, didn’t settle well.

He plucked a stuffed mushroom off the tray of a passing waiter and popped it in his mouth, thankful

for some sort of sustenance. Stasia took one as well, nibbling delicately, her gaze scanning the room.
Looking for Rhett, no doubt.

Gavin knew he needed to get her out of there before she found Rhett and pounced. He wasn’t as

close to the youngest Worth brother as he was to Alex, so Rhett might not recognize him if something
went down.

And then all hell would break loose at a very swanky party. Not the sort of image he wanted

portrayed.

“Five more minutes and then we’re leaving,” he told her.
She glared. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Like hell I can’t. You’re now my client. And I advise you that we should leave in five minutes.

Staying any longer could end in disaster.”

Rolling her eyes, she shoved the rest of the mushroom into her mouth. “Are you always this

dramatic?” she asked after she swallowed.

“Listen. Being in the same room as Rhett Worth isn’t prudent. Let me…” He took a deep breath,

chastised himself for even thinking it, let alone suggesting it. Keeping this newly formed relationship
strictly professional was going to be a testament in self-control. “Let me take you to dinner and we
can discuss everything. Lay out some sort of plan so we can figure out where to go next.”

“I already know what I want to do. I want you to call Alexander Worth first thing tomorrow

morning and set up a meeting. And all three of them should be present. They need to know they can’t
avoid me forever.” She lifted her chin.

“Sounds like a starting point, though I have other ideas.” He glanced around, noticed that the crowd

was thinning. His gaze drifted to the farthest corner of the room, tension riveting him completely still
when he realized he was looking at Rhett.

The man was oblivious, concentrating solely on the woman who stood so close to Rhett, you

couldn’t slip a piece of paper between the two of them. The perfumer girlfriend, no doubt. Gavin had
heard they were sickeningly in love.

Gavin tore his gaze from the youngest Worth brother and offered Stasia a quick smile, guiding her

toward the door as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t cause suspicion.

“Our five minutes aren’t up,” she protested, automatically suspicious.
He swore she dragged her feet. “My watch must be fast, then. We need to leave.”
Thank Christ he got her out of there and swiftly, ignoring the pointed glare the woman at the door

gave them when they left. They didn’t speak to each other until they exited the restaurant, standing
together on the edge of the sidewalk as he tried to grab a taxi.

“You saw him, didn’t you?”
He turned at her quiet question, his quest for a cab momentarily forgotten. “Saw who?”
“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” She sighed and shook her head. “I saw him too.”
“You did?” It wasn’t worth pretending he didn’t know whom she spoke of. Of course, they were

talking about Rhett.

Stasia nodded. “I was tempted to approach him. Again. Did I tell you how I talked to him at the

perfume launch party?”

He frowned. “I read about it.” Everyone had read about it. It was how the entire tragic story first

came to light.

Her lush mouth twisted into a grimace. “Oh right, I forgot. Everyone knows about the night little

orphaned Anastasia approached her brother and he turned her away. Though he really didn’t. He was
very kind. So was his girlfriend.”

“Orphaned Anastasia?”
“You haven’t heard that one?” She sounded surprised. “The media speculates whether my mother

named me that on purpose. After all, it’s not an Italian name, and we come from a very traditional
Italian family. I’m like that Russian princess. You know the story, don’t you?”

“Vaguely.” The media was having more of a field day with this story than he’d realized. The minute

he got home, he was pulling out his laptop and doing some quick research.

“She was supposed to be killed with the rest of her family. Her father was the Tsar of Russia. She

was a grand princess or duchess or some such thing.” Stasia waved her hand. “But there were always
rumors of her escape, even years after the killings happened. A woman came forward and said she
was Anastasia, that she’d been lost all this time and wanted to find her family again.”

The sadness in her voice, radiating from her body, was palpable. The temptation to comfort her,

wrap her in his arms and promise to take care of her, was so strong he had to fight every impulse to
keep under control. “You’re nothing like that Anastasia, you know.”

The tremulous smile that curved her lips sliced straight through. “I’m a sad, lost little princess in

search of her family. Isn’t that close enough?”

Chapter Four

The restaurant Gavin took Stasia to was small, dark and nearly empty. The overly friendly waitress

seated them at the most intimate table in the entire place, a booth tucked into the farthest corner. The
lighting so dim, Stasia’s face was cast in shadow, giving her a mysterious air.

Making her even more alluring, which was the stupidest thing he’d ever thought, but goddamn, that

story about the lost Russian princess had done something to him. Touched him deeply, made him feel
awful. Made him angrier than hell and more determined to help her in her quest. It was insane, these
feelings of tenderness she evoked within him. He knew what she wanted, what she was all about. It
was obvious. She’d been disinherited from one extremely wealthy family, so she planned to latch her
claws into another fortune, no matter what it took.

He needed to remember that. Focus on the calculating way she was going about this. All that sob

story bullshit was a way to get to him and it had worked. She was good. Real good.

But Gavin was better.
Only after the waitress took their dinner order did Stasia meet his gaze, hers steady and clear, all

traces of the earlier princess woe disappeared. “Tell me your plan.”

Nothing like cutting to the chase. “I’ll contact Alex tomorrow.”
“How? Are you going to tell him you’re representing me? I think being upfront is the best

approach.”

“Not quite.” He drank from his water glass, trying to figure the proper tactic how to handle this.

How to handle her. “The soft approach is best, I think.”

Her eyes flashed with the briefest hint of anger. “What are you going to do, then? Call him up like

an old friend and ask him out for drinks?”

“That’s not a bad idea.”
If looks could kill, he’d be dead, sprawled across the floor in less than ten seconds, what with the

irritated glare Stasia was shooting in his direction. “That is a ridiculous idea. I didn’t hire you to
become reacquainted with him, have a few drinks and reminisce over old times.”

“That’s not my intention—”
“Good,” she interrupted. “I’m not funding your happy hour reunions.”
Jesus, she was pissy. “We never did discuss terms or payment, now did we?” He leaned against

the back of the booth, the velvety soft fabric cushioning him comfortably. “I’ll have you know my
services don’t come cheap.”

She nearly choked on her drink. “You sound rather cheap with that sort of statement.”
Ah, a sense of humor. He didn’t know the woman had it in her. “I’ll have a document drawn up

tomorrow with my normal rates and fees. If they meet your approval, we can have it signed and
official in a matter of minutes.”

“Fine. I’ll pay you whatever’s necessary if you can convince the Worths to accept me as one of

their own.” She nodded once, looking momentarily pleased. “But I must say, I don’t agree with your
approach.”

“And how would you handle the situation if you were in my shoes?”
“I would set up a meeting immediately. Tell them that I want to talk to them, learn more about

them.”

“They won’t believe that.”
She scoffed. “Why not?”

“They think all you want is a piece of the Worth pie.” When she frowned, he continued. “They think

you’re after the money, Stasia. Which of course, you are, right?”

“I don’t want their money.” Her voice was cold, sending a chill straight down his spine.
“You can be honest with me. Attorney/client confidentiality and all that.”
“That’s all you think I care about?” Her voice rose, became almost shrill, and he knew he’d

touched a nerve.

Fine, she could pose and bluster all she wanted. But why else would she go to such lengths to get in

contact with the Worths? “I thought that’s what this was about.”

“Money.” She sneered, the disgust written all over her face. “That’s what makes the world go

’round, does it not? What everyone wants, what everyone believes they deserve.”

“Easy for you to say, considering you have no idea what it’s like to be poor.” He knew, knew more

than any boy should have to witness. With abject poverty came absolute desperation, and he’d
endured much at the hands of his mother. Never abuse, she wasn’t cruel.

No, more like she’d been completely naïve and horrendously impulsive, always at the detriment to

both of them. For that was all they’d had—each other.

“I’m sure you don’t suffer,” Stasia tossed at him. “Being the greedy, ruthless lawyer that you are.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” he practically snarled.
“And you don’t know anything about me.” She sniffed, her gaze narrowed, elegant in her anger.

“You have no business passing judgment.”

The waitress appeared with Stasia’s salad, setting it in front of her quickly, as if she were afraid

she might get bitten. The tension at the table was palpable, his anger mixing with Stasia’s a living,
breathing thing and in any other situation he would’ve marveled at that. Wondered why she invoked
so much damn passion within him.

But tonight he was too furious.
“If you want me to represent you, then we’re going to have to get a few things straight,” he started

when the waitress made her escape.

“No, you need to get a few things straight first. I’m not some money-grubbing woman looking for

the next pile of money to fall into. I don’t care about that, I never have.” She stabbed her fork into her
salad viciously, like she wanted to kill the lettuce with one precise thrust. “There’s more to this than
you can imagine.”

“I’d love to hear all about it.” He rested his forearms on the edge of the table, truly interested in her

explanation. Would it be another excuse? He’d heard plenty through the years, had grown rather
weary of it all. She was so indignant, so offended by his implications he knew this story would be a
good one.

That’s all it would be too. A fabricated story created to convince him that she was a good person

with a generous heart. Utter crap, he knew.

“I am not about to tell you anything.” She pointed at him with her fork. “Not tonight. The look on

your face says it all. You won’t believe a word I say.”

She was damn perceptive, he’d give her that. Grudgingly, he nodded, deciding it best he not answer

her. They were going at it for no reason. If they were to continue this relationship, they needed to get
along.

It wasn’t going to be easy. He knew this. But he had to get over whatever resentment he had for her

and let it go. He wasn’t about to let her walk out of his life, not like this.

Not that he’d ever admit that to himself.

Stasia watched him eat, afraid to say anything for fear he’d snarl and growl at her again like some

sort of feral beast. She’d had no idea the polished, handsome attorney could turn so coarse and rough
in such a short amount of time. It had surprised her.

Aroused her.
Frowning, she pushed her food around on her plate, her appetite having fled. She didn’t want to

fight with Gavin, but she didn’t want him to think so terribly of her either. This driving need to know
this other, lost part of her life had nothing to do with money and everything with her half-brothers.

She had six of them. It was crazy to imagine, let alone realize that it was indeed true. Six brothers,

every one of them older than her.

And not one of them wanted to be with her. Well, the three she’d been raised with were trapped by

the restrictions of their father’s will and their own very busy lives. The other three looked at her as if
she were some sort of interloper they wanted no part of.

It hurt, all of it. She’d never felt so exposed, scrubbed so raw. Gavin’s accusations were like salt

rubbed into her wounds, stinging and burning until she could hardly concentrate.

She knew Gavin wouldn’t give, though. No he wouldn’t apologize or offer any sort of sympathy,

not that she expected him to. This last month she’d learned to harden her heart, not to count on anyone
to help her. Everyone in her family had abandoned her, even her mother. She had absolutely no one.

More than anything, she needed to remember that.
“Stasia.” His deep, calm voice broke through her painful thoughts, rippling her nerve endings like a

rock skipping across an otherwise smooth pond. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Well.” She met his gaze, found herself momentarily lost in that stark green gaze. So stupid. “You

must be a mind reader, because I don’t want to fight with you either.”

“Misunderstandings are futile.” He tried to smile, but it wasn’t sincere. It didn’t even reach his

eyes. “Perhaps we can start over and discuss the matter in a more…civilized manner.”

She remained quiet, contemplating him. He seemed like a man who preferred polite conversation.

Who did everything by the book, never diverting, never daring to break the rules or do something that
would damage an attorney/client relationship.

A few minutes in her presence and it was as if he was ready to throw away the veneer of perfection

and argue with her until they ran out of breath. She couldn’t wrap her head around it. His reaction to
her, their reaction to each other, made no sense.

“I agree,” she finally said, noting the relief softening his otherwise stern expression. “I think we’re

both on edge and we’re—taking it out on each other. We need to put that past us and focus on what
needs to be done.”

“And what is that exactly, Stasia? Tell me what you want from me, what you want from the

Worths.”

“I want a sense of family. I want…” She sighed, the sound so full of wistful longing it sent a pang

straight to her vulnerable heart. “I want to belong. To someone, somewhere. I need to.”

Now it was his turn to study her, not saying a word, though she saw the surprise in his gaze. He

believed her some sort of she-devil out to take the Worths for everything they had when that wasn’t
her intention. Money didn’t matter. A person could have all the wealth in the world, but it still didn’t
make them happy.

She’d been happy, once upon a time. Successful at her job, excited to start working on her own

jewelry line, and part of a family that had been in the fashion accessory industry for generations. With
three brothers who loved her, a father who doted on her and a mother who thought she was
completely spoiled.

That had been wiped from her life with her father’s shocking will.
“I think we need to go farther back.” He cleared his throat, his gaze, his face so utterly serious, she

leaned toward him, eager to hear what he had to say next. “I think we need to find your mother and
talk to her.”

Stasia reared back, emphatically shaking her head. “No. That’s impossible.”
“Why? Why won’t she talk to you? Have you tried?”
“Of course I’ve tried. She refuses to talk to anyone. She’s staying in Italy as if she were exiled.”
“We’ll go see her, then.” He cocked his head to the side. “Don’t you want to learn the truth? The

details as to how you…came to be?”

Her chest tightened. What if those revelations, those stories, were too painful for her to endure?

Then what? She’d have to live with them the rest of her life. She didn’t know if she was ready for that
yet.

Would she settle for the unknown, though? Perhaps it was better, knowing exactly how her mother

could betray her “father” so completely.

“Are you afraid, Stasia?” His voice lowered a notch, so husky-deep it seemed to reach inside her

and touch her quivery heart. “Is that it? Are you too scared to face the truth?”

“No.” She blew out a harsh breath, hating how her voice trembled. “I refuse to be afraid. Then I’ll

turn into my mother, all alone and refusing to talk to anyone.”

“Exactly. You need to be stronger than that. And I know you have it in you.” Gavin then did

something so shocking she thought she might jump out of her skin. Reaching across the table, he rested
his hand atop hers in what seemed to be a comforting gesture.

He had no idea his touch seemed to reach something dark and forbidden deep within her. Desire

swirled, gathered low in her belly when she felt the gentle sweep of his thumb across her sensitive
skin.

“Let’s go to Italy and talk to her,” he murmured. “Find out everything she knows before we go to

the Worths. It might be smart, strategically. We could fill them in with the details as well. Don’t you
believe they’re just as curious?”

Were they? She hadn’t a clue, since they refused to look at her, let alone speak to her. Besides that

one moment with Rhett, which felt like a lifetime ago. “What if my mother tells us nothing?”

The smile that curved his generous mouth was a real one this time, and absolutely devastating in its

power. It sent a spark of heat whispering over her skin, along her nerve endings. “If we go all that
way to question her, I believe you’ll get her to talk.” He removed his hand from hers, leaving her a
little lost without his touch.

The relationship she’d shared with her mother prior to her father’s death had always been a little

troublesome. She’d always felt as if her mother were the teeniest bit jealous of the closeness Stasia
had with her father.

Maybe now she knew why. Did her mother secretly laugh at them, knowing they weren’t bound by

blood? Did she think it amusing, nursing such a powerful secret all these years? Had she hoped to get
away with it forever?

Stasia didn’t know. But she did know Gavin was right. She needed to find out. Everything.
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled loudly. “When do you want to leave?”
The smile grew, became even more devastating, if that was possible. The man wielded a power he

seemed unaware of, which was scary, especially for the well being of her extremely fragile heart. “I
can have my assistant make travel arrangements first thing tomorrow. Whenever you can get away,
we’ll leave.”

“My schedule is completely clear,” she said wryly. “I have no commitments.”
“Good to know. I have a few, but I can rearrange them. Fortunately, it’s a quiet period for me.”
“My luck, then.” She smiled wanly. “Yours as well, I’m assuming. So. Have you ever been to

Italy?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never been to Europe at all.”
That was surprising. He had a sophisticated air, urbane and immaculate in appearance, what with

the precisely tailored suits, elegant in cut and style, the perfectly cut dark hair, the expensive watch
that circled his wrist. She believed him the typical attorney who had too much money and spent it on
luxurious trips across the continent. She’d known quite a few of them. Had dated some as well. Yet
every last one of them had been too slick, too shallow for her to consider them long term.

Gavin, though, had that untamed air about him. As if it wouldn’t take much to reveal the real man

beneath the smooth mask.

“You have a passport?” she asked.
“Of course.” Ah, there was her irritated lawyer, though he seemed to realize his mistake quickly.

His expression smoothed, his voice returned to that calm, modulated tone. “I figure we can leave by
Wednesday at the latest.”

“Sounds perfect.” She sipped from her glass of water, refusing to have any more wine. Too much

alcohol and this man would be a heady combination, one that might leave her open and vulnerable to
just about…anything.

A thought she shouldn’t be having. He was her attorney. She’d hired him to help her discover the

truth about her heritage. No way could she entertain thoughts of indulging in some personal time with
the deliciously handsome, secretly sexy Gavin Westmore.

Chapter Five

Gavin felt as if he’d been transported to another world, where the sun was more intense, the colors

more vibrant and the native language lyrical and mysterious. Everywhere he looked he saw couples
that appeared happy, full of love. He’d never been what he considered a romantic man, nor one who
entertained fanciful thoughts. Hell, he hadn’t realized the word “fanciful” was in his vocabulary until
this very moment.

Perhaps spending too much time with a too beautiful woman did that to a man.
They’d left New York first thing Wednesday morning, as planned. Seven hours later and they were

in Italy, specifically the Amalfi Coast, Stasia behind the wheel of a tiny red car driving way too fast
for his comfort.

The roads wound tight around the mountains, the sheer cliff that shot straight down into the ocean

on the other side giving him a minor panic attack, not that he’d ever admit it. He’d grown up tough,
had carried a knife on him walking home from school when he was in junior high, for Christ’s sake.
He thought he’d seen it all, could endure anything.

Yet he wasn’t sure if he’d survive the drive to Stasia’s family estate, what with the reckless speed

she was going, how she whipped the car to and fro on the narrow road. She was a spectacularly shitty
driver.

“Slow the fuck down,” he muttered, finally vocalizing what he’d been chanting in his head since the

moment she got behind the wheel.

She flashed him a cheeky smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Did I just hear what I thought I

did?” When he ignored her, she burst out laughing. “I’ve been driving these roads since I first got my
license. Trust me. I’ll get us there in one piece.”

“Yeah, right.” He said it under his breath, but the look she shot him told him she’d heard it. Not that

he cared. She drove like a crazy woman, the windows rolled down, her long dark brown hair blowing
everywhere, probably obscuring her view, not that she seemed to care. She looked carefree and
beautiful with it. The complete opposite of the woman he’d been working with the last few days.

“You need to relax. You’re too stuffy in your business attire. We’re at one of the most gorgeous

vacation spots in the world, no? Enjoy it.” She waved a hand at him, nearly giving him a seizure since
she was now clearly driving one-handed.

“I’m dressed like this because we’re here on business,” he reminded her, sounding like a stuffy old

man, just as she’d accused.

“I know, but you’ll worry my mother, looking like you do.” She met his gaze, her smile growing,

most likely because she saw the panic flare in his eyes. She needed to pay attention to the road, not
him.

“And how do I look?” He glanced down. At least he’d shed the jacket and tie, wearing a white

dress shirt and charcoal gray trousers. He’d been going for business casual.

“Like an intimidating lawyer out for blood.” She shook her head, downshifting so the car’s engine

whined as she came around a particularly tight corner. “You do realize I haven’t spoken to her since
the night my father died. She might not approve of me showing up with someone like you.”

His jaw dropped open in shock. “No, I hadn’t realized.”
“It’s true. She was with him when he took his final breath. She emerged from their room, pale and

shaking, and announced that he’d died. Not one tear, nor did she offer any explanation, though we
knew he was terribly sick. The cancer diagnosis had been such a shock. But still.” Stasia shook her

head. “She isolated herself in her room and refused to come to his funeral, which surprised us all, but
we assumed she was taking it particularly hard. She talked to my oldest brother once, when he
requested she come for the reading of the will. She left for Italy that very same day. No one has
spoken to her since.”

Claudia Renaldi was clearly a selfish woman who ran away from her problems. “Ignoring

everything and everyone isn’t the solution.”

“I know.” She sighed. “What I’m trying to say is, she might not know we’re coming.”
“I figured.”
“I spoke with Renzo. He’s managed the villa for years. I let him know when we were flying in, and

the house is prepared for our arrival. I would assume he’s informed her we’ll be there.”

“Did you explain who I was?” Hmm, if she did, there was the possibility that Claudia had

lawyered up in preparation.

“No. I told Renzo you were a friend.” She shot him a skeptical look. “A stretch, I know, but I didn’t

want my mother aware of anything. She might flee, or worse, find her own attorney.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Smart move on your part.” He had to give it to her. Stasia wasn’t a

complete idiot. Nor was she leading solely with her emotions, which would be so easy to do
considering her circumstance.

“We’re almost there.” She made a sharp left and started up a steep hill. “Wait until you see the

view. It’s spectacular.”

His view at this very moment was pretty damn spectacular. The oversized black top Stasia wore

sloped off to the side, revealing one smooth shoulder, the bright pink strap of her bra. Cropped jeans
and casual black woven sandals completed her look, accentuated with a delicate gold chain hanging
from her neck, a matching chain around her right wrist.

So effortlessly put together, she was beautiful. Women were most likely jealous of her and men

without a doubt lusted after her.

Much like he did.
He was grateful for the wave of lust. It momentarily distracted him from her grinding the gears as

they headed up the hill toward the Renaldi Villa. Kept him from thinking too hard as to how high they
were climbing, or how close to the edge of the cliff she was driving. One wrong move and they’d be
pitched into the Mediterranean. Not the way he’d want to start this business meeting/semi-vacation
they were embarking on.

“I wish we were staying longer,” she said with a wistful sigh as she turned onto an even narrower

street.

He finally glanced around, relieved to see nothing but elaborate gates that most likely hid

gorgeously expensive homes. Well-manicured flowerbeds lined the street and bushy olive trees
offered plenty of shade. They drove through a small, affluent neighborhood, so at least it didn’t feel
like they were gripping the edge of the mountain.

“I can’t get away for longer than four or five days. Shouldn’t that be enough time?” he finally asked.
“Oh, for talking to my mother, definitely. Now that we’re here, though, I’m realizing how much I

missed it. I’d love to stay here for a few weeks. It would be so relaxing.”

“I’m sure.” Jealousy coiled in his gut. He knew she’d worked since she was a teen, though it had

been for the family company, so she’d been handed the position. And he knew she had nothing now,
no job, no family support, no money besides whatever she might’ve had in her bank account when her
father died. His feelings were irrational, he shouldn’t be jealous of her.

But he was jealous—of her past. She’d grown up with everything her heart desired. Whereas he’d

grown up kicking and fighting for every single thing he got. And when he’d been young, he hadn’t got
much.

“I spent many a summer here as a child, through my teens.” She sounded wistful. “I used to beg my

brothers to take me down to the beach so we could spend all day there.”

“Sounds amazing.”
“Oh, it was. It still is.” She sent him a quick warm smile. “If we can, I’ll take you there. We should

at least spend a few hours on the beach. You’ll never want to leave.”

He should tell her no, he had too much work. It wasn’t appropriate. Spending a few hours at the

beach with Stasia wasn’t proper business behavior. Seeing Stasia in a skimpy bikini? Because he
knew she wouldn’t cover up that gorgeous body. The thought was tempting as hell, absolutely.
Dangerous as hell?

Also absolutely.
“You’re probably not the beach type.” She wrinkled her nose. “You probably have legal briefs to

read and phone calls to make.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t know what else to say. She was one-hundred percent right. Though he hadn’t

lied when he’d told her it was a slow time for him at the office, he always had work to do. Always.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a vacation. Not even a weekend away.

He’d been accused more than once that he didn’t know how to relax. Past girlfriends had left him

for that reason alone. He didn’t know how to make time for a relationship. Had worked too damn hard
to get where he was to let it slide by for a vacation here and there.

That had probably been a mistake. What the hell was wrong with a vacation? He was twenty-

fucking-nine-years-old and he’d never taken one. Ever. The last time he’d left the city was for a
weekend jaunt to the Jersey Shore in his early twenties with his college buddies, where they’d
screwed women that they’d picked up at the local bars like wild beasts.

After college graduation, he’d worked. And worked and worked and worked. He had a reputation

at his law firm for turning in the most billing hours. He’d climbed the promotional ladder in record
time. He was proud of that. Damn proud.

But what sort of personal life did he have? None. He’d sacrificed it all for his career.
“You probably don’t want to hang out with me at the beach anyway. You don’t even like me.”
“I never said that,” he started but she cut him off with an unladylike snort.
“You didn’t have to.”
No, he supposed he didn’t. He couldn’t admit the reason he argued with her so much was as a

defense mechanism. A way for him to avoid what he really felt for her.

Not that he

felt

anything. It was based on attraction, nothing else. He’d been attracted to plenty of

women before and never acted on it. Stasia was no exception.

“Here we are,” she said brightly, thankfully changing the subject. She turned left onto a driveway

and stopped before the massive, sleek wooden gate painted white. Within seconds it was opening,
allowing them entry, and she pulled in, a large, two-story house looming ahead. As they drew closer,
he saw the rounded arches, the bright flowers blooming everywhere, vivid against the stark white of
the house. And in the near distance, the glimmering blue ocean, dotted with boats that looked like toys
floating in the water.

He whistled low, catching her attention.
“I know, it’s gorgeous, isn’t it? I always forget just how wonderful the view is until I return. It

takes my breath away every single time.”

“I can see why.” It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Of course, he’d rarely been out of

the city, so this was a new experience for him.

Made him realize there was more to life than the four walls of his high-rise office in midtown

Manhattan, that was for damn sure.

She parked in an open carport, hopping out of the car the moment she put it in park and shut off the

engine. He followed her and exited the vehicle, squinting against the intense late afternoon sun. He’d
forgotten his sunglasses, a huge mistake.

“I’m sure my brothers left a few pairs of sunglasses around,” she said when he shielded his eyes

from the sun. “I’ll find you some.”

“Thanks.” He was pretty sure the Renaldi brand licensed sunglasses, so he didn’t doubt she’d find

some.

As they walked toward the house, one of the double doors opened, an older gentleman dressed in

khakis and a faded denim shirt stepping outside. An enthusiastic grin stretched across his face at their
approach and he headed straight for Stasia, his arms opening wide. “Ciao, Anastasia, mi carina.”

She walked easily into the man’s embrace, hugging him tight. “Ciao, Renzo.” The warmth, the

happiness in her voice was unmistakable.

And that was all he caught. They spoke in rapid fire Italian when they broke apart, talking

animatedly, their hands flying and accompanied by plenty of laughter. Gavin took it all in, marveling
at how even more beautiful she was when happy. She’d only been somber during his interactions with
her. Returning home, to Italy, brought her joy.

Secretly, he wondered what it was like, to make her smile like that. Feel like that.
Despite the warning alarms going off in his head, he was curious to find out.

Renzo was kind enough to bring in their luggage while Stasia showed Gavin around the main house.

She tried to imagine what it must look like through a stranger’s eyes. The interior was pure, stark
white, calm and with soft lines. White walls, white couches, accented with wood coffee table and end
tables, mellowed warm with age. The occasional pop of color appeared. Bright yellow and blue
printed pillows dotted the couch, a vibrant bottle blue vase bursting with a bouquet of colorful
flowers on the otherwise pristine white tile countertops in the kitchen.

Her mother had worked with one of the best designers on the coast, laboring over each and every

choice. She’d wanted the house to have a particular look and feel, and after many years, she’d finally
mastered it.

Even when she was young, Stasia had known to be careful, to treat every item in the main house

with care. Her rowdy older brothers respected the house as well, never tracking in dirt or grime,
though it had never felt like a museum, oh no.

Villa Renaldi had been a happy place, filled with fond childhood memories that Stasia cherished.

Despite coming here under such unpleasant circumstances, she was still happy. Excited to show
Gavin everything the villa had to offer.

“Wait until you see where you’re staying,” she said as she opened one of the French doors that led

onto the back terrace.

“I’m not staying in the main house?”
“No, I had Renzo prepare the tower for you.” It had once been a crumbling relic from centuries

ago, a pile of stones destroyed by years of neglect. But now it was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom
guest quarters. Gorgeous in its simplicity, it had the best view from its bathroom—and with a giant
sunken-in tub to sit in and enjoy it too.

“The view from here is pretty damn unbelievable.” The awe in his voice made her smile. He

followed diligently as they walked down the cobbled steps toward the tower, the sea before them
majestic. The sun cast the brilliant blue water in hazy golden shimmers, and she swore she heard the
calls of children playing and splashing in the water from below. Overhead, a bird cried as it flew
over them, and the gentle breeze swept through the nearby olive trees, the rustling leaves like a sweet
childhood melody. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? I’m excited to show you the view from the tower bathroom. It feels like

you’re about to step into the water, right from the window.”

The large wooden door to the tower was unlatched and she pushed it open, stepping to the side so

Gavin could enter first. “Tell me what you think.”

He entered the room and stopped in the center, slowly turning so he could take everything in. The

glossy cream tiled floor shone so brightly she could see his reflection, and the floor to ceiling
windows were open, allowing that delicious ocean breeze inside. Filmy white curtains billowed, the
king-sized bed was made up with crisp white linen and there was a small seating arrangement near
the balcony door, two overstuffed chairs covered in elegant, pale gold velvet, a small round wooden
table sitting in between.

“This is my room?” He sounded shocked.
“All yours for the next four nights.” She glanced toward the bed, had a fleeting image of his dark

head resting against the plump white pillow, draped with a sheet and wearing nothing but golden skin.
Was he muscular? He appeared so, even through the fine suits. She bet he had a delectable body, one
that would certainly know exactly what to do to make hers sing with pleasure…

Her skin grew warm and tight, as did her nipples. She jerked her gaze away to find him headed

toward the bathroom, a rather loud expletive escaping when he entered the room.

She followed, found him staring at the tub in wonder. It was large and constructed in a half-round,

butting up against the wall below the giant window that overlooked the ocean. The view was magical,
indeed appearing as if one could step directly out onto the sea. As a child, she’d begged to stay in the
tower after it had been remodeled, her parents allowing it only on very special occasions.

She’d thought of it as hers, an escape from her brothers. A place to call all her own, where she

would sit and dream, pretend she was a princess locked away in the tower, waiting for her knight in
shining armor to come and rescue her.

Silly, childish dreams she couldn’t help but still hold on to, especially considering what had

happened. She needed a rescuer, needed someone to stand tall beside her and help her fight the battles
so she could conquer the war.

Someone like Gavin…
“I thought you might like some privacy and a space of your own,” she said to fill the sudden too-

long silence. She needed to banish her foolish thoughts. They were pointless. He didn’t like her.
Despite his earlier protests, she didn’t believe him.

Did he not like the tower? Or even worse…did he think it too much? As if she might be showing

off, flaunting her wealth and prosperity? She was merely proud of her heritage, of this house on the
cliffs that had been in her family for generations. Her brothers constantly brought guests and friends to
the villa, though she rarely did.

Not that Gavin was a friendly guest. This was a business trip, nothing more. She needed to

remember that.

“I appreciate the thoughtful gesture.” He met her gaze, wonderment making him look a little dazed.

Relief flooded her at that look. He liked the space, thank goodness. “I almost feel like you went to too

much trouble.”

“Absolutely not. It was no trouble at all.” She’d made a phone call and that’s all it took to make it

happen. “Oh good, Renzo is here with your luggage.”

Renzo set Gavin’s single black suitcase next to the dresser, then set his computer bag on top of it.

“You find it to your liking, eh?” His gravel-voiced question was aimed at Gavin.

“It’s amazing. I appreciate the hospitality.”
“Anything for Miss Renaldi’s friend,

si?

She’s never brought any friends like you to visit. A few

girlfriends, but when she was still a girl in school. I assume the two of you are…” Renzo left the
question unspoken, but there was no denying the twinkle in his eye, the raising of his white, bushy
brows.

Mortified, Stasia shook her head. Just the thing she didn’t need to happen, Renzo and everyone else

assuming she and Gavin were somehow involved. Not that she’d discouraged it when she called
Renzo to make the arrangements. She’d kept quiet so her mother wouldn’t be suspicious. “I think you
might’ve misunderstood...”

“You’re right, we are good friends.” Gavin stepped close to her, grabbing her hand and giving it a

meaningful squeeze. His hand was large, his touch electric and she took a deep breath, desperate to
calm her suddenly racing heart. “I couldn’t refuse her invitation to the villa for a little escape from the
city.”

“A fine choice,

signore.

Miss Renaldi can show you many sights. She has explored this entire area

since she was young. She knows all its secrets.”

“I look forward to exploring it with her.” Another squeeze, his long fingers were tight around hers.
She sent him a look, hoping he got the message. That she expected a thorough explanation the

moment Renzo left. What the hell was he doing?

“Very good.” Renzo clasped his hands together and bowed. “Dinner will be served at precisely

eight o’clock.”

“And my mother, Renzo? Will she be in attendance this evening?” Gavin released his hold on her,

smoothed his hand down the middle of her back in a reassuring gesture, which she found oddly
comforting.

She could not depend on this man for comfort, not like this.
“Ah.” Renzo shook his head, his mouth turning grim. “I’m afraid she takes every meal in her suite.”
Disappointment crashed through her. Mama wasn’t going to make this easy. “Does she know we’re

here? That I’m here?”

Renzo nodded. “I told signora and she seemed to understand. Sometimes it is as if she’s left us,

you know? She’s not…all here.” He tapped his temple with his index finger.

Sadness filled Stasia. Her mother wasn’t in a well state of being. It wasn’t right, wallowing in her

loss, allowing it to consume her life. Claudia Renaldi needed to find a purpose again. Needed to
realize she had a family depending on her to be strong and pull through. A young grandson who surely
missed his grandmother, her sons and their wives, her only daughter...

Stasia frowned. It had been too long since she’d seen her only nephew, Matteo’s son, Matty. The

first grandchild, the prodigal grandson and heir, he was precious, the sweet, bright light in her
mother’s life.

She knew for a fact her mother hadn’t seen Matteo or his family since their father’s death either.

Despite her earlier worry that she was all alone, her brothers did their best to stay in contact with her
and keep her informed on what was happening in Italy. Her eldest brother called or emailed Stasia at
least once a week, as did Rafe and Vincenzo, though Matteo stayed in touch more frequently. Her big

brother had no idea how much she appreciated his efforts. He was the one connection to her old
world she could depend on.

“Thank you, Renzo,” she finally said with a faint smile. She couldn’t remember life at the villa

without the man. “We shall be in the dining room at precisely seven-fifty-five, ready and waiting.”

The old man chuckled. “Very good.” Turning on his heel, he left, closing the door behind him.

Leaving the two of them alone in a gorgeously romantic room.

Nerves made her palms clammy, and she clutched her hands together, fighting the foolish sensation.
“Well, I’m sure you’d like a few hours to rest, shower, whatever you need to do before dinner.”

She stepped away from him, needing some distance.

“Yeah, I feel kind of grimy. And I should probably change, try not to look so lawyer-like.” He

flashed her a quick smile. It sent a zing to all her feminine parts, leaving her uncomfortably warm.

“Very well.” She sounded too formal and she wanted to roll her eyes. The man made her

uncomfortable. “I’ll see you later at the main house?”

“Sure. I can just…walk in, right?”
“Of course. Don’t bother knocking. We’re the only ones in residence, besides my mother.” She

frowned. If she was brave enough, she’d go straight into the house and knock on her mother’s door.
Demand to be let in so they could hash this out. It was ridiculous, how secretive Mama was being.

Stasia deserved to know answers. But she wasn’t quite brave enough to ask for them.
Yet.
“We’ll work through this, Stasia,” Gavin said, his voice low and full of sympathy. She wondered if

he could read her mind. “Don’t worry.”

She appreciated the words, but they were so easy for him to say. He had nothing to lose, nothing at

risk. Though she’d already lost everything, maybe someday she could gain some of it back. At least a
semblance of peace.

Hopefully.

Chapter Six

Dinner was an elaborate meal for only two people, Gavin mused. At least three different kinds of

pasta, a giant bowl of fresh green salad dotted with vibrant red tomatoes from the garden and a basket
of warm crusty bread, it was enough to feed a family of ten. Fortunately Gavin was ravenous enough
for at least three men, and he ate with an intensity that shocked him.

Probably shocked Stasia as well, not that he could worry about it. He felt as if he hadn’t eaten all

day…which, he realized, he hadn’t.

“Renzo’s wife is the cook,” Stasia said as he’d served himself a second plateful. “Elena is very

good, no?”

Her Italian accent became more pronounced the longer she was here. “Very good,” he said after he

swallowed. His belly might be protesting, but he wasn’t ready to stop.

She smiled, dropped her gaze to her still full plate, dragging her fork back and forth through the

cream sauce. “And the shrimp is fresh from the ocean. Renzo picked them up from the market just this
morning.”

“They’re delicious.” Plump and full of flavor, they were the best damn shrimp he’d ever tasted, and

he’d eaten at plenty of fine restaurants in Manhattan.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your meal.” Clearly, she wasn’t.
He set his fork on the edge of the plate, didn’t say anything in hopes she would look back up and

find him waiting.

She did, rather quickly. Her eyes widened the slightest bit and she pushed her plate away as if the

meal disgusted her. “You want to talk.”

Stasia was rather perceptive, and he liked that. “I want to know what’s bothering you.”
Well, he could be perceptive too.
“I’m afraid.” She spoke in a broken whisper, the depth of emotion in her voice making his chest

ache. “I think I might be wasting your time here.”

“I just had the best meal of my life. This was definitely not a waste of my time.”
She smiled, but it was weak at best and it didn’t mask her sadness. “I’ll let Elena know you

approve.”

“Stasia. Stop.”
Her startled gaze met his, her damp, lush lips parted. “You’re angry.”
“I want to know what’s wrong with you. Why do you think being here is a waste of my time? We

just arrived.”

“And my mother refuses to talk to me. I went to her suite of rooms before dinner and knocked on the

door. She wouldn’t open it.”

“Did she talk to you?”
“No. She told me to go away.” She dropped her gaze once more, as if afraid to look at him.
“Did you tell her it was you?”
“Of course, I did. She still told me to go away.” Her face crumpled and she dashed at her cheeks

with the tips of her fingers, as if wiping away tears. “She hates me.”

Jesus. He’d had plenty of clients cry before. He dealt mostly with estate law; he understood the

despair people went through after they lost a loved one. The anger and the fighting that usually
accompanied such a loss as well, considering most of his clients were wealthy, much like the
Renaldis.

So why did this woman’s tears upset him so? Tempt him to go to her, pull her into his arms and

whisper words of comfort? He wanted to bury his face in her hair, kiss her temple, smooth his hands
all over that curvy body and tell her everything was going to be all right.

Though he didn’t know that for a fact, had no way of knowing. Maybe it wasn’t going to be all

right. Maybe it was going to be a complete disaster.

“Don’t give up. This is the first time you’ve approached her. Once she realizes you’re not going

away, she’ll come around,” he said.

“Maybe four days isn’t enough. What if it’s not enough, Gavin?” She lifted her head, tear-filled

eyes meeting his. “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. I’ve cried enough tears to fill a thousand
oceans, I swear. I’m so tired of being sad.”

“Then stop being sad and start getting angry. Let it fuel you, let it give you the determination you

need to reach your mother and get her to talk.” Anger was an excellent motivator, far better than
sadness.

She sniffed, dabbed at her eyes yet again. No streaky make-up, no flushed cheeks and red nose for

her, oh no. Even in her complete and utter despair, she was beautiful. “I tried angry. It got me
nowhere.”

“You haven’t tried angry on your mother, I bet.”
“It won’t matter. Doesn’t seem like much matters to her but herself.”
“Then tell her that. Tell her how much it hurts, how selfish she’s being. Tell her how damn angry

you are, finding out your life has been completely turned upside down from something

she

did. You’re

the innocent one in all of this. You realize that, don’t you? It’s not your fault your mother had an affair.
It’s not your fault you’re not the blood daughter of Giorgio Renaldi.” Anger flared in his blood, made
his voice rise. Damn it, it was ridiculous, how she’d been treated. By the man who raised her, her
father, though he denied it now in death.

What a cowardly thing for Renaldi to do. The only brave one in this situation was the crying

woman sitting across a too-wide table from him.

“There’s no need to yell,” she said softly.
“I’m pissed off.” He leapt to his feet, started pacing back and forth. “I yell when I get mad. I’m

sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
He thrust both his hands in his hair, glaring at her incredulously. “I’m not mad at you. Jesus.” He

threw his hands into the air, gesturing at the ceiling. “You’ve been put into a shitty situation, Stasia,
dealt a really bad hand, yet you won’t give up. You keep coming at it and coming at it, turned down at
your every single move. Don’t give up now, not while you’re so close.”

“I’m not close. I’m back at square one.” She wrapped her arms around herself, ran her hands up

and down her bare arms. She wore a simple red cotton sundress held up by skimpy straps, one of
them drooping off her shoulder, revealing that she wore no bra. He hated that his thoughts went there.
Straight to deliciously intimate images, his mouth pressed against that beautiful shoulder, his hand
beneath the front of her dress, cupping her supple flesh, his thumb rubbing against her hard nipple…

“If you think like you’re defeated, you’ll believe it,” he said, shoving the lurid thoughts from his

brain. She was consumed with sadness, left vulnerable by all the wrongs done to her. And it wasn’t
fair, it really wasn’t, how much he wanted to take advantage of that vulnerability and offer his
comfort, which he had a feeling would be welcomed.

He was a complete shit for even thinking it.
“She blames me,” Stasia whispered. “She looks at me and I’m the reminder of her past

indiscretions. I’m nothing but a mistake in her eyes.”

Damn it, that was it. She couldn’t keep thinking like this, talking like this. He had to put a stop to

the pity party now.

He went to her, stopping just behind her chair. Her bare shoulders beckoned, her bent head causing

her hair to spill forward, revealing a slice of her neck. That beckoned as well, twisted up his insides,
made him want to press his mouth there. Whisper words of comfort as he drew her into his arms.
Those words would slowly change, become heated as he described what he wanted to do to her, with
her, for her…

“I need a good night’s rest, I’m sure.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder, a tremulous smile

curving her lips. “It’ll all be better in the morning, no?”

No. But he wasn’t about to disagree. Whatever she needed to do to gain back some of that strength

he’d glimpsed only a few hours ago, she should do it. “Sure.” He stepped back, helped pull out her
chair and she stood. So close, he could smell her, sweetly floral, her wavy hair a little wild about her
face.

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He dropped his gaze to her breasts, noted

how full they were, how her nipples were the slightest bit hard and pushing against the thin fabric of
her dress. “I appreciate you not mocking me for being so upset.”

“I would never mock you, Stasia.”
She sent him a skeptical look and he chuckled, glad they were over the earlier constant arguing. It

was—pleasant, spending time with her.

More than pleasant.
“Tomorrow, I’ll approach her again,” she said with a firm nod. “She needs to know she can’t

ignore me forever.”

“That a girl,” he murmured, glad to see the stiffening of her spine, the hint of fire flare in her gaze

once more.

Another shaky smile appeared as she leaned in, stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“Thank you, Gavin.”

His skin tingled where her lips touched, his entire body stiff with want. That kiss, however brief,

was unexpected. Unwarranted.

But definitely wanted.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, more than a little dazed.

Stasia stepped away from Gavin, shock coursing through her over what she’d done. It was a mere

kiss on the cheek, no big deal, but he was her lawyer. The lawyer who didn’t care for her much, the
man who seemed to look at her with thinly veiled disgust all the time. He was the consummate
professional who wouldn’t allow his personal feelings to compromise his representation of her.

And she went ahead and kissed him like a fool. The feel of his skin beneath her lips still lingered,

the sharp inhalation of breath she’d heard him make when she’d done it. Was he shocked, disgusted,
horrified by her impulsive actions?

“Well.” She clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling. “Good night, then.”
He locked his gaze with hers, unreadable and dare she say it, forbidden. What was he thinking? Did

he feel it too? The chemistry that seemed to jump and crackle between them every time they drew too
close to each other? Or was it all one-sided?

Only moments ago she’d been full of despair over her mother, so easily allowing everything that

had happened take her under. It was always easier to fall into sadness. Being strong and determined

was much, much harder.

Now it was as if she’d forgotten all of her troubles. She could only think of this man, clad in jeans

and a white button-up shirt, his hair slightly wavy at the ends, as if he hadn’t taken much care with it
after he stepped out of the shower. She could imagine wrapping herself around him, testing the
softness of his dark hair with her fingers, her lips whispering over his skin, his husky groans of
approval as she deftly undid every single button of his shirt…

“’Night.” He smiled, but it was almost menacing. Darkly sexy. Not friendly or neutral as his past

smiles had been, the sight of it touched something deep within her. Caused the sensation to unfurl
slowly, wind its way through her limbs, flooding her veins, making her body languid, heavy.

Desire. Undeniable. Ridiculous to pursue. She wanted him. She’d wanted him from the moment she

first saw him if she was being honest. He wasn’t what he appeared to be. That smooth, unruffled
veneer hid a man who kept everything pinned up. He was in control at all times.

For once she wanted to see him completely and utterly out of control.
Deciding it best, she turned from him first and headed toward the hall that led to her bedroom. She

felt his gaze upon her. Her skin sizzled as if he’d physically touched her and she put an extra sway in
her step, enjoying the sensation of her skirt sliding over her bare bottom. She wore a thong and no bra,
quite liberating from her normal choice of undergarments, but there was something about returning to
the villa that allowed her certain liberties and freedoms.

Like dressing scandalously in front of her attorney. Just the thought of how easy he could’ve

disposed of her simple sundress made her cheeks heat. One tug and her breasts would’ve been
exposed. One large, capable hand sliding beneath her skirt could’ve discovered how easily
accessible she was for him.

She’d done it unconsciously. Deep down, she knew it was a mistake, the temptation Gavin

represented. Besides, he wouldn’t do anything. He was not the type to throw away all boundaries and
pursue her, was he?

Frowning, she opened her bedroom door and entered the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

She knew nothing about him, not really. She’d Googled him and discovered there wasn’t much to
know. He was a workaholic who’d climbed the ranks of his law firm quickly. He was the son of…no
one she could find. No mention of his past, no mention of a family and definitely no mention of a
girlfriend or wife.

He was married to his work. His office was his mistress. She knew what those types of men were

like. All three of her brothers were that way. Once upon a time, she had been too.

Not bothering to turn on the light, she made her way to the window and sat on the ledge, staring

down at the pool. It was lit, the water a bright, beckoning blue. Warm air drifted over her, heating her
skin. She had the sudden urge to swim. To strip off her clothes and jump in naked, the water sliding
over her skin like a caress, relaxing her, cooling her heated thoughts and skin.

Grabbing a towel from the connecting bathroom, she made her way back into the kitchen and dining

area, saw that it was blessedly empty. Gavin must’ve gone back to the tower, which was just as well.
She couldn’t let him see what she was about to do.

Quietly she opened the French door and just as quietly shut it behind her. Her footsteps light, she

made her way to the pool, nibbling her lower lip as she stopped at the very edge. In the far distance
she could hear the ocean waves lapping at the shore, the sound of boats knocking against each other,
the occasional distant drift of voices. People were still on the beach, most likely illicit meetings that
involved bodies wound around each other, lips pressed tight.

She envied their wicked interludes, the idea of naked skin bathed in moonlight, filled with wild

abandonment on an empty beach. To be so carefree…

Without thought, she shed her dress, let it drop to the ground with a kick of her feet. The air

embraced her, brushed over nude body much like a lover’s touch, her nipples hardening to painful
points. With a sigh she stepped out of her panties, left them in a crumpled heap on top of her dress.
Renzo had already left for the evening, so he wouldn’t see her, thank goodness.

She dove into the pool with hardly a splash.
Staying beneath the water, she swam, stretching her muscles, enjoying the sensation of good old-

fashioned exercise. Back and forth she swam across the pool, going faster, her breaths becoming
labored, her muscles starting to protest painfully with every lap she accomplished. The pool was
small, her strokes were simple, but it was enough to push her past her limits quickly.

And help her forget her troubles, however momentarily.
After many lost minutes and countless laps, she finally took a break. She sat on the wide step in the

shallow end, the water bouncing against her from the waves she’d created, making her buoyant.
Smoothing her hair back from her face, she blinked away the droplets that clung to her lashes, focused
on the rapid breaths she took, her heart racing with exertion.

The view of water stretching as far as the eye could see filled her with memories of other stolen

late nights in the pool. Of her swimming with her little friends from the village, one particular night
when they were all teens and daring enough to strip off their clothes and skinny dip with the local
boys. Lots of squealing and laughter, bikini tops flying, swim trunks hitting the edge of the pool with
loud, wet thumps.

How angry her father had become when he discovered at least twelve naked teenagers splashing in

his pool, how scared those boys became when they realized Giorgio Renaldi himself was roaring at
them to leave the premises at once.

Her mother had tried to convince him they were indulging in nothing but harmless fun. How

protective her father had been, the lecture he gave her the next morning about the mysteries of sex
embarrassing both of them, him especially, until he’d finally declared it a discussion more suited with
her mother.

Melancholy settled deep within her bones, she tossed her head back, stared at the star-lit sky. It

was velvety black, dotted with tiny twinkles of silver, and she scooted lower, let the water lap over
her skin, her neck, her hair, until she was completely submerged with the exception of her face. A
move she’d done often as a child.

Everything became muffled then, the water sloshing against her ears, making the natural night

sounds muted. Her head had gone fuzzy, as if she were in another world. It was safe here, no one
could find her and she could bury herself into oblivion.

Closing her eyes, she let her body float, enjoying the sensation of the warming water sliding over

her nakedness. Her belly tingled, her nipples tightened and lower, between her legs, she was heavy
with want.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with a man. The thought of being with a particular

man filled her with such lust she drew in a harsh breath, let it escape shakily. Gavin flashed through
her mind, the first time she’d met him in his office. The night at the cocktail party when he’d
squelched her original plan of speaking with Rhett.

She liked how Gavin looked in his glasses, how…strict they made him appear. Tall and broad, he

emanated power without saying a word, which she found incredibly arousing. He was a masterful
dresser, his suits were some of the finest she’d ever seen, and his ties were colorful, with subdued
patterns that told he was boldly refined.

All Worth ties, she knew. Interesting how the family appeared in her life on a constant basis. They

always did.

Gavin had large hands, long fingers. She wondered if he touched a woman as if she were made of

spun glass. Gently, reverently, with the most thoughtful care. Or was he the type who was a little
rougher, more forceful. Would he wrap his fist in her hair and tug her close? Kiss her until she
couldn’t breathe, his hands all over her, pushing her closer and closer to her release with a few
thrusts of his tongue and strokes of his fingers?

Her eyes snapped open, and she scrambled to sit up, sputtering when she took in some water. She’d

lost herself in thought, lost herself in lusty imaginings she had no business entertaining. Sweeping her
hair away from her face again, she slowly swam to the other end of the pool, her legs aching with the
movement. Grabbing the handles that flanked either side of the steps, she hauled herself from the
water, shivering when the air hit her skin, cooling her to the point of gasping.

Dripping on the pavers, she went to the lounge chair where she’d dropped her towel only to find it

wasn’t there. She glanced around, shivering so hard her teeth chattered, but she didn’t see it.

Where did it go? It couldn’t have grown legs and walked away.
“Looking for something?”
Stasia stilled at the sound of the voice coming from behind her. Desire slid through her body,

weakening her knees. She recognized the voice, of course. Wondered how much he saw, how much he
was looking at now. She was completely on display, nothing to hide behind, and he was getting an
eyeful. If she turned around, he’d see absolutely everything.

Deciding she had nothing to hide, she turned, rested her hands on her hips. He emerged from the

shadow of an olive tree, the thick towel clutched in one hand, his gaze glowing as it landed upon her.
He stared at her face, never daring to look past her chin, and she admired the strength he showed in
doing so.

Most men would waste no time checking out her nudity. And how could she blame them? She

would be checking out a man who stood naked in front of her too—specifically the very man in front
of her now.

But Gavin’s gaze was riveted to her face only. “I’m disturbing what is clearly a private moment for

you.”

She shrugged, her drenched hair sliding across her damp skin. “I wanted a quick swim.”
“I heard you. I decided to come down and investigate.”
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
They stared at each other silently. She noticed he wore no shirt, was clad in jeans only, the button

unsnapped, his feet bare. As if he’d slipped them on before coming down to investigate. She had no
idea the sight of a man’s bare feet could be so arousing, but they were. Not nearly as arousing a sight
as that undone snap on his jeans, revealing a trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath dark-rinsed
denim.

She let her gaze wander unabashedly, she didn’t have as much control as he and she was fine with

it. As she assumed, he was well built, with a flat abdomen, the faint showing of a six-pack and a
broad chest and shoulders. His chest was covered with the lightest bit of hair, mostly in the center,
and she had the sudden urge to press her face there. Breathe him in, feel the beat of his heart beneath
her cheek.

Instead she stood naked and trembling, dripping wet with still-chattering teeth. He was at the

distinct advantage, but she decided to play like the one with the upper hand.

“I guess you need this?” He held out the towel but didn’t step closer to her. As if he wanted to see

if she’d come to him first.

She smiled. “The longer I stand here, the more dry I become.”
A single dark brow rose, such a sexy move, her belly fluttered. “Well, isn’t that a damn shame.”
The sexual innuendo was thick in his words, and just like that, she grew wet between her legs.

Locking her knees together, she stood straighter, held out her hand in a beckoning gesture. “My towel,
please?”

He hid it behind his back. “Come and get it.”
Exasperation filled her, along with a healthy dose of lust. He was being rather playful, which was

completely unlike him. At least what she saw of him. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.” The look he sent her was a challenge. A dare and she took a few measured steps,

stopping a few feet away from him.

His gaze finally dropped, lingering on her breasts, going farther, down her belly, down her legs,

until it came back up, touching the spot between her thighs that throbbed for him before finally settling
once more on her chest. “You look cold.”

If he was referring to her nipples, then he was correct. “I am.”
“Then come closer, Stasia,” he murmured, his deep voice pure seduction.
“Gavin.” She took one step. Then another, bringing her closer but not near enough for him to reach

out and touch her. “What are we doing?”

“I have no fucking idea.”
She appreciated his candor, almost wanted to laugh at his blunt choice of words, but didn’t want to

insult him.

“Me either,” she agreed, taking another baby step. “It’s probably a mistake, what we’re

considering.”

“Most likely.” He lifted his lids, that brilliant gaze meeting hers. “But we’ll have a good time

making it, don’t you think?”

Chapter Seven

Gavin wasn’t quite sure what they were doing, but he also knew no way could he stop it. Stopping

this magnetic connection he felt to Stasia was impossible, crazy, undeniable. Powerful.

He’d gone to his room and stripped after dinner, slipping into the large, comfortable bed,

discovering within moments as he tossed and turned that he was too restless to sleep, despite the time
change. He should have been exhausted, but instead he’d paced the room naked, stopping finally at the
window so he could watch the sea, the flickering tiny lights in the far distance dotting the water.

That was when he’d heard the faint splash, his gaze dropping to the pool below, where he saw the

lithe figure of Stasia swimming back and forth, her arms slicing cleanly through the water, her legs
carrying her quickly.

She wore absolutely nothing at all.
Those long, lean legs moved with a sexy power that left him panting. And when she popped out of

the water, revealing those perfect breasts with the dark nipples, his cock had twitched in reaction.

Unable to tear his gaze away, he watched, like some sort of pervert hiding in the dark night. She

moved through the water like a goddess, her hair slicked back, her skin gleaming. After the vigorous
laps, she’d floated with her eyes closed, only her face showing, becoming completely weightless in
the water. He’d grasped his erect cock, stroked himself mindlessly at the thought of joining her.
Touching her.

Fucking her.
Unable to stand it any longer, he’d slipped on his jeans and run outside, stopping at the lounge chair

where she left a towel. Snatching it up, he’d hidden in the shadows of a tree, knowing she would
come out soon, knowing she would look for her now missing towel.

He hadn’t expected her to be so bold. Certainly hadn’t expected her to give him such a blatant view

of all she had to offer. Drinking her in from behind had been amazing enough. The graceful curve of
her back, the twin dimples that rested above the most perfect heart-shaped ass ever created, those
long legs he could only imagine wrapped around his hips as he plunged deep inside her.

Then she’d turned, giving him an up close view of her pert breasts, her dusky rose nipples that

were the same color as her unglossed lips. She’d stood tall and proud, like some sort of female
warrior set to conquer him.

And weakling that he was, he wanted to surrender. Desperately.
“Does this put me at risk?” Her sweetly sexy voice broke through his thoughts, reminding him that

he had a flesh-and-blood, naked-as-the-day-she-was-born woman standing before him, teasing him
with tiny steps that brought her closer to him. The scent of chlorine and fresh, delicious woman filled
the air, and he was damn tempted to reach out and pull her in. Feel all that wet, warm skin wrap
around him, crush his mouth to hers and kiss her until both of them couldn’t think straight.

Yeah, that sounded perfect. He was tired of thinking, worrying about what they were doing. He

knew he shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t screw around with any client, he’d never done so in his life and
he had no idea what this said about him. How easily he was ready to compromise this case, which
really wasn’t a case at all, right?

More like a favor. Yeah, a favor to reconnect her with her long-lost family, that’s all this was.
Gavin frowned. How easily he could justify this. He hadn’t done something like that in forever.

When he’d been young and reckless, he’d justified anything and everything. Stealing? Yeah, he’d been
a broke-ass joke with no one to take care of him, no job skills. He had to do it to stay alive. Doing

drugs? Hey, they just eased the pain and hopelessness that seemed to run through him like a never-
ending cycle. Thank God he’d stopped that bad habit early on.

Now, having sex with a beautiful woman who tempted him like no other? It was risky, he knew

this. But she wanted him and he wanted her, there was no denying it. So hell yeah…

“Gavin?”
“This won’t put you at risk. I’m still your attorney,” he said quickly, giving in to his impulses.
Reaching out, he grabbed her by the crook of her arm, hauling her close. She slammed against him,

a breathless laugh escaping her when their bodies collided. She was wet, her skin touched with cool
yet so damn hot. She slipped her arms around him, her hands spread wide across his back, and he
pulled her in closer, his hands clutching her ass cheeks, smoothing over baby-soft skin.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, tilting her head back to look at him.
Her exposed neck was a temptation he couldn’t ignore. Bending over her, he brushed soft kisses

along the side of her neck, his lips lingering, licking her fragrant skin with his tongue. Lust thrummed
through his veins, riding him hard at her decadent taste.

She shivered, thrust her hands in his hair to hold him close. He bent her completely over his arm,

his mouth blazing a path along her collarbone, her chest, stopping just at her breasts. She whimpered,
her fingers tightening in his hair to the point of pain and he smiled just before he took one pretty little
nipple into his mouth and sucked.

He was fueled by the sound of his name falling from her lips on a ragged moan. Lifting away from

her breasts, he pulled her upright, sealing her mouth with his in a searing hot kiss. She parted her lips
for him eagerly, their tongues stroking together, their hands everywhere. He grasped her by the
buttocks again, hauling her up so he could carry her. She wrapped her legs around him, leaving her
bare and open against his stomach. He could feel her fiery hot wetness brand him, and his cock jerked
in reaction.

“One of the chairs,” she murmured against his mouth. “Hurry.”
He fell back on one of the oversized lounge chairs nearby, and she settled on top of him, straddling

either side of him with those long, luscious legs. She sat atop him, her hair a tangled wet mess, her
breasts bobbing in front of his face. She was a temptress, the sexy smile curving her lush mouth made
his entire body tight with want. He settled his hands on the outside of her thighs and thrust his hips.
Letting her know just how she made him feel.

“Oh my,” she whispered, grinding against him. “Maybe you should take those jeans off.”
“I don’t have any sort of protection,” he warned. Regret filled him. He should’ve been better

prepared.

“Me either.” She nibbled on her lower lip, her fingers busy sliding down the zipper of his jeans. “I

guess we’ll have to improvise.”

He groaned when she trailed her fingers along the skin she exposed, her touch feather-light and so

fucking good he didn’t know how much longer he could take it. She urged his jeans down impatiently,
her fingers curling around the waistband and giving them a tug. He lifted his hips, helped her remove
them until they were both completely naked.

“Mmm.” She grasped the base of his cock and stroked. “I haven’t improvised in years.”
“Me either.” He grunted when she stroked him again, closed his eyes against the onslaught of

pleasurable sensations her touch brought forth. Breathing deep, he searched for control. Couldn’t
come too soon and embarrass himself. He didn’t want this to end before it started.

Besides, he wanted to make her come first. Wanted to know what she looked like, what she

sounded like when her climax hit. Wanted to touch her, taste her, suck her into his mouth until she

became mindless with it.

“Come here,” he whispered, and she frowned at him in confusion. “Bring those pretty little hips up

closer.”

Realization dawned, and her eyes widened. But that didn’t stop her from allowing him to drag her

closer, until she was hovering directly above him, her sex mere inches from his mouth. Reaching out,
he touched her, dragged his fingers along her damp slit, making her moan with pleasure when he
parted her lips and searched her drenched folds, teasing her swollen clit.

“I could come right now,” she said between pants. “I swear it.”
“Not yet,” he murmured as he lifted his head, swiping at her distended clit with his tongue. She

tilted her head back and cried out, her hips subtly moving against his face as he started to devour her
creamy center. She was incredibly responsive, her sexy little whimpers doing him in, and he wished
he had a condom so he could take her properly.

But maybe she was right. Maybe there was nothing wrong with some improvising. It was certainly

helping him see exactly what she liked and how he could make her come. Like now, he knew she was
close, what with the frantic movements of her hips, the breathless little cries that escaped her. He
sank two fingers inside her velvety hot depths, thrusting in and out, drawing her clit deep into his
mouth and sucked. Hard.

She cried out his name just before her body bucked against his mouth, shivers overtaking her as she

writhed above him. He continued his assault, drawing out the uncontrollable shivers that took over
her body. Finally he slowed his ministrations as she came down from her orgasm, until she slid away
from his mouth so she could collapse on top of him.

“Oh, my God, that was quick,” she whispered against his chest before she kissed him there, just

above his heart.

He smoothed his hands along her supple skin, his fingers lingering on her backside, tracing the

dimples that rested just above it. “That’s a good thing sometimes, right?”

She lifted her head with a lazy smile. “Definitely.” Leaning in closer, she kissed him, didn’t seem

bothered by the fact that her juices still clung to his lips and tongue. In fact, she took it deeper, her
tongue tangling with his, a low moan escaping her when they finally broke apart. “I can taste myself.”

“You like that, don’t you?” Damn, she was a turn on. His cock pressed against her soft belly,

wanting so damn bad to slip inside her warmth and fuck both of them into oblivion.

“Yes.” She ducked her head for a moment before meeting his gaze once more. Her eyes were dark

with passion, her lips swollen, her hair an absolute mess. “But now, I want to taste you.”

Her body still shaky from the intense orgasm brought forth by Gavin’s masterful fingers and tongue,

she slithered down his hard body, settling just below his jutting erection. He was large, the tip of the
flared head sticky with pre-come, and she curled her hand around the base of him, surprised that her
fingers didn’t quite meet. “Lovely,” she whispered, which earned a laugh from him.

“Did you just call my cock—lovely?”
She glanced up, startled at his choice of words. Look at her handsome, suave and urbane lawyer

man using such crude language. “I did,” she said sheepishly as she gave him a firm stroke.

His eyes looked ready to cross from the way she touched him, which made her smile. “Most men

would find that an insult to their manhood,” he choked out.

“But you’re not most men, are you?” Keeping her gaze steady on his, she darted out her tongue,

licked the very tip of him with a deliberate stroke.

“Jesus,” he rasped as he cupped the side of her head, his gaze dropping to where her mouth barely

touched the top of his erection. “Wrap your lips around me.”

She did as he demanded, thrilling at how he commanded her. Thrilling even more at how easily she

followed his order. She normally enjoyed taking charge sexually. Had been with men who had no
problem with it, some of them almost seeming to prefer it.

Stasia couldn’t help but wonder how Gavin might feel about that. He seemed more the aggressive

type. Which sent an electric current of pleasure pulsing throughout her body.

“Take more of me in your mouth,” he urged, and she wrapped her lips completely around the head,

sucking him with the lightest pressure, reveling in the agonized groan that escaped him.

It felt deliciously wicked, outside by the pool completely naked with Gavin, her lips wrapped tight

around his cock. He tasted salty and clean, was so big and pulsing inside her mouth, and she took him
deeper, her hands busy, her lips and tongue busy teasing him, wanting to bring him to orgasm soon.

He slipped his hands on either side of her head, gripping her tight, guiding her. She let him take the

lead, loving how aggressive he was, never shying away from showing her what he wanted.

Slowly but surely his control was slipping away. His hips surged, sweat broke out all over his skin

and he arched his head back, groaning long and low before he muttered, “I’m coming. God, I’m
coming.”

She encouraged him, squeezing him tight, sucking the head of his cock just so. Feeling the first

spurts of semen on her tongue, she milked him, drank from him as he shuddered and shook, the orgasm
wrenching everything out of him until he finally collapsed on the chair. She released her hold on him,
wiped the side of her mouth with the back of her hand, and he relaxed his grip on her hair.

Removing one hand, the other remained in her hair as he smoothed his fingers through the strands in

a tender gesture. “Damn woman,” he muttered. “That was unbelievable.”

She smiled, turned her face so she could kiss the palm of his hand. “See how great improvising can

be sometimes?”

“Yeah.” He smiled weakly, looking rather pleased, which pleased her since she was the one who

did that to him. “I’d much prefer a bed, though. With plenty of condoms on hand.”

Her skin tingled at the image. Did he want to continue this? Or was it a one-shot deal? If they were

smart, this would be it. It would be foolish to continue any sort of affair.

Stasia frowned. It would also be foolish to leave it at this and never do anything else either. She

wanted to know what it was like, having sex with Gavin. Having that connection with him, feeling him
move inside her, come with her…

Her body softened, went damp. She couldn’t

not

continue this with Gavin.

Could only hope he felt the same way.

Chapter Eight

“Miss Anastasia, your brother is on the line.” Renzo held the house phone out toward her.
She hesitated before she took it from him. “Which one?” she whispered.
“Matteo,” he whispered back, gesturing toward her with the cordless phone.
She grabbed it, escaping out to the back patio so she could talk to him privately. Not that there was

anyone else in the kitchen besides Renzo and Elena. Her mother was, of course, nowhere to be found,
and Stasia had a feeling Gavin was still asleep in the tower room.

Warmth suffused her at the thought of Gavin naked in bed. So not the image she wanted floating in

her mind as she spoke to her big brother. “Matt. Good morning.”

“Good morning. I trust you’ve spoken to Mama.” It wasn’t a question. He was that confident she’d

taken care of things already. She’d let him know a few days ago she was going to the villa to confront
their mother, and he’d encouraged her, agreeing it was a fine idea.

Thank goodness for her eldest brother. He was such a positive influence in her life, especially

now, when she desperately needed the support.

Sighing, she went to sit on a lounger by the pool, ignoring the one she and Gavin had occupied last

evening. “Not enough. She hasn’t come out of her room once. But we’ve not been here a full twenty-
four hours yet, so there’s still time.”

“We? Who else is with you?”
She sighed again. Sometimes it was as if no one listened to her, especially her brothers. She knew

she’d told him about Gavin. “I brought my attorney. He’s an old friend of Alexander Worth’s. I think
he can get me in to speak with them.”

Matteo remained silent for so long, she thought she’d lost him. “Are you still there?” she finally

asked.

“Stasia, this is a bad idea.” His voice was firm, in that there-will-be-no-arguing-way of his. “Get

rid of the attorney and speak to Mama alone.”

“There is no way I’m getting rid of Gavin.”
“Gavin, is it? Sounds rather informal. How old is he, anyway? And how do you know him again?”
“None of your business,” she grumbled, hating how she felt like she was talking to her father.

Matteo had always taken on that responsible-brother-in-charge role. It came with the territory, what
with him being the oldest of the four.

“Meaning he is most likely young and handsome and successful. Meaning he will also try his

damnedest to get into your bed. Don’t let him, Stasia. Attorneys are nothing but trouble.”

Too late.

Rubbing her forehead with the tips of her fingers, she leaned back against the chair. “I’m

not a stupid little girl, so stop treating me like one.”

Now it was his turn to sigh. “Be careful, that’s all I ask. I know you can convince Mama to talk to

you. The two of you have always been close. I don’t know why she’s behaving the way she is, but if
anyone can get through to her, it’s you.”

“I hope so.” She paused, wishing her brother’s certainty could somehow transfer into her and give

her the strength she needed to make the dreaded confrontation. “Where are you?”

“In Milan, visiting the in-laws. Lucia is not…feeling well.”
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” Not that she and her sister-in-law were very close, but she never

wished ill will toward her. Lucia was quiet, could be rather snobbish. Quite proud of her husband,
the newly appointed CEO of Renaldi Accessories, she enjoyed nothing more than going out with her

equally snobby friends and shopping. Spending lots of money was her favorite hobby, but Matteo
never seemed to protest. Not the most affectionate mother either, she practically neglected her young
son, Matty.

That was the part that irritated Stasia the most. Who could ignore that sweet little boy, especially

his mother? She didn’t understand it.

“She’ll be fine. I thought having her here with her family would cheer her up, but she’s spent most

of the time in bed.” Concern laced her brother’s voice. “It’s as if she’s too weak to get out of it. She
sleeps most of the day.”

Stasia frowned. That didn’t sound like Lucia. She was always all over the place, never one for idle

time. “Take her to the doctor, Matt. Maybe she has some sort of flu.”

“Perhaps. You need to visit and soon, Stasia. Once all the dust settles over this entire mess, we

would love to have you. We’ll be back in New York soon. And Matty misses you.”

“I miss him too. Give him a kiss for me.”
“Will do. Perhaps I’ll have him Facetime you in the next few days.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. Please do so.”
They said their goodbyes and she hung up, setting the phone on the glass-and-iron table beside her.

The sun was warm as it shone directly overhead, the constant breeze ruffling her unbound hair. She
was still clad in her thin robe and nightgown, no make-up, her hair a mess. In desperate need of a
shower before she went to her mother and tried to talk to her again.

Last night had ended soon after the moment on the lounge chair. Her cheeks heated remembering it.

When they’d finally climbed off the chair, Gavin had slipped on his jeans and she’d gone in search of
her dress, finding it a damp heap along with her panties by the pool. She’d put it on anyway, too self-
conscious to walk around naked. Too worried over what Gavin might think.

And that was her biggest problem, wasn’t it? She never knew what Gavin was thinking. That they’d

messed around still shocked her. He went from being the stern, argumentative lawyer to the fairly
amiable, positive thinking partner to the man who growled at her to take all of him in her mouth right
before he came.

Her entire body heated at that particular memory.
Like a gentleman, he’d walked her to the main house, given her a sweet kiss that turned her inside

out and wanting more, then left her in front of the French doors while he headed back to the guest
quarters. No offer for her to come join him in his bed and finish what they’d started, though she hadn’t
invited him to her room either.

Not that she’d risk it. Something about being with Gavin made her a little louder than usual. She

could only imagine screaming his name when he made her come, her mother’s bedroom down at the
end of the hall. What if Mama heard her?

Her cheeks burned at the thought.
She felt someone standing behind her before she saw him, almost jumped in her seat when a large

hand settled on her shoulder. Turning, she found Gavin standing there with a slight smile on his
sleepy-looking face. “Hey.”

“Good morning.” She desperately tried to keep her voice neutral, couldn’t help the trace of warmth

creeping in. Just looking at him made her insides flutter in anticipation. Not a good thing considering
they were trying to have a professional relationship.

“Can I join you?” When she nodded, he sat in the chair across from her, deliciously rumpled in the

same pair of jeans that he’d worn last night, though at least now he concealed his mouthwatering
chest, donning a light gray T-shirt. It did nothing to detract from his handsomeness, though. The man

looked good in just about anything.

“How did you sleep?” she asked politely.
He smiled, rubbed his stubble-covered jaw. “Great. Woke up to a freshly brewed pot of coffee

too.”

“Ah, that was Renzo’s doing. He’s very courteous like that.”
“He snuck into my room then. I never heard him.”
“I hope you don’t mind.” She never thought of Renzo as invading anyone’s privacy. He was always

just…there.

“No, I appreciate his thoughtfulness. I’m not usually such a heavy sleeper. Might’ve had something

to do with what—happened last night.” He shot her a wicked smile.

Which in turn made her blush furiously, damn her fair skin. “About that. Maybe we should—”
He lunged toward her, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth so he could press a gentle kiss to

her palm. “Do it again?” he asked hopefully.

She laughed weakly, her bones melting at his possessive touch, the flare of heat in his beautiful

eyes. “I don’t understand the change in you.”

“I don’t understand it either. I’m going to blame the Amalfi Coast.”
“What happens on the coast…” she started.
“…stays on the coast,” he finished with that same naughty smile.
Disappointment wound through her, but she pushed it away. This was the smarter approach. Once

they returned to New York, they returned to their business-only relationship. “If that’s the way you
wish to conduct it.”

“It is. If that works for you.” He nodded, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Have you spoken to your

mother this morning?”

Oh, that sounded familiar. “Not yet.”
“Did she already turn you down?”
“I haven’t gone to her rooms yet today.” She ducked her head, tugging on her robe belt. “I slept in

late. Must’ve been jet lag.”

“Or a really great orgasm to help you sleep,” he suggested not so helpfully.
He was downright jovial this morning, which went against his usual sour-faced role. “Perhaps,”

she said, trying to keep it light.

Desperate to keep it light.
“Well, you should try and talk to her now.”
“After I shower,” she answered, saw the flare of heat rise in his eyes. He probably liked the idea

of her naked in the shower. Would probably invite himself to join her if she didn’t watch it. Deciding
it best to deter him for the moment, she stood, ready to make a dash for the main house’s doors. “How
about we meet at the house for lunch? Hopefully I’ll have something to report to you.”

“Wait a minute.” He snagged hold of her hand, stopping her from fleeing. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled, her voice sounding false and she wanted to kick herself. “Really, I am.”
“Stasia…”
“Meet me for lunch, twelve-thirty or so, yes? I’ll have Renzo let you know if there are any

changes.” She tugged her hand from his grip and headed toward the house, keeping her head held high.
Wanting Gavin to know he didn’t affect her at all.

“You can’t run and hide from me, you know. Not here,” he called after her. But she ignored him.
It was easier that way.

Stasia rapped determinedly on the door yet again. If she had to beat on this door until her knuckles

were raw and bloody, she’d do it. She was like a woman possessed. Demanding someone open the
door after fifteen minutes of incessant knocking did that to a person.

There was still no reply.
Slumping against the door, she thumped her forehead against it once. Then once again for good

measure. Maybe it would bash some sense into her, or maybe it would bash all the sense out of her
head and she could stand there for the next hour banging against the door.

God. Her mother was being so damn selfish. She rapped on the door once, as hard as she could and

decided to hell with it. She was going to scream.

“Why won’t you open the door?” She grabbed hold of the handle and rattled it, frustrated to find it

locked when she shouldn’t have been. Her mother wasn’t so stupid as to leave the door unlocked. She
wanted to keep everyone out at all costs.

Even her daughter.
“Go away.” The softly spoken words were hard to hear through the thick wood and Stasia paused,

pressed her ear against the door.

“Mama?”
“Go away, Anastasia. I don’t want to talk to you.”
Her heart dropped into her toes. At least her mother acknowledged her, but not quite the way she

was hoping for. “That doesn’t matter. I want to talk to you. We need to discuss what happened.”

“No.”
Stasia growled in frustration. “You can’t avoid it forever, you know. I need to know the truth. I

need to know what happened and why Father did this to me. You can’t leave me hanging like this.”

She heard a lot of sniffling coming from within the room but nothing else.
“I have no one else. I’ve been disinherited. I have no job, no family. I don’t have you and you’re

my mother. Please talk to me.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she was hardly aware of them.
“Please. I can’t go on like this.”

Something heavy settled against the other side of the door and Stasia backed away, startled by the

movement. Slowly the door cracked open, and she caught sight of her mother peeking through. “You’ll
hate me,” Claudia whispered hoarsely.

“I won’t. I swear it.” Stasia grabbed hold of the door and pushed, her mother stepping out of the

way with a squeal. She shoved her way into the bedroom and shut the door behind her, turning the
lock. “Oh, Mama,” she whispered when she got a good look at the woman who’d given birth to her.

She was painfully thin, with thick, dark circles heavy beneath her eyes and her skin deathly pale.

Her hair was disheveled, she appeared as if she hadn’t taken a bath in days and she wore a large, pale
green satin robe that hung off one too-slim shoulder, revealing the bones of her chest. “Don’t look at
me like that,” she snapped, full of fire. Sounding like her old self, though Claudia Renaldi had
changed plenty since her husband’s death. She was a shell of a person, a ghost.

It sent a ripple of worry through Stasia, so strong she wavered on her feet. “When was the last time

you ate?”

“Bah. You sound like Renzo. That old man is nothing but a mother hen.” She paced the room, her

bare feet kicking at the overly long hem of her silky robe as she walked. “So I’m a little thin. Giorgio
always said I had a tendency to turn to fat.”

Stasia sighed. “You were never fat. Not that I can remember.”
“You don’t remember much, do you?” Claudia sent her a faint smile. “Your father was very hard on

me. He wanted me to look a certain way.”

“You were always beautiful. You still are.”
“Don’t lie, child. You’re terrible at it.” She waved a hand, draped herself across a pale yellow

settee that sat close to an open window that overlooked the ocean. “You are here with many
questions. I’m not sure if I can answer them all.”

“Mama…”
“But I will try my best,” Claudia interrupted. “You’re right. You deserve to know. So I will tell

you.”

Nerves clamored in her stomach, having an all-out war she wasn’t sure she’d survive. “Then tell

me. Please.”

Her mother leveled her with a single look. “We separated. Long, long ago, when Vincenzo was

about three. I had three boys keeping me busy, a husband who was never home and I was so young.
Not much older than you are now. I had no life beyond dirty diapers and screaming boys.”

“I thought you had a nanny.”
“Not then. Your father wanted me to be with the children. His mother did it, he told me. Raised six

children with no help while his father steadily built the business. It was the least I could do.” Her
mother shook her head. “His expectations were too high of me. I couldn’t take it any longer. I told him
I wanted a divorce.”

Stasia’s mouth dropped open. “A divorce?”
“He denied me. Told me I was being too rash. He was much older, you see. Almost fifteen years

were between us, and he knew best. Or at least, he thought so. He decided I needed some time for
myself. He took the boys to his mother’s house—to this very house, as a matter of fact—because
heaven knows she was more than capable of taking care of her grandsons, unlike me. He bought me a
plane ticket to New York, told me to stay in our apartment there, and that was it.”

“So…what? You went to New York, sought out Michael Worth because you knew they didn’t like

each other and decided to have some sort of revenge affair? Is that how it happened?” Disbelief
coursed through Stasia. She’d had no idea her mother had wanted a divorce. That she had felt so
pressured by raising her three sons, all born so close to each other. That she had felt so young and
alone and unable to keep up.

“No, no. It was nothing like that. I was in the Fashion District. Your father had asked me to stop by

and see the latest jewelry designs at the office there and when I left, I ran into him.”

“Ran into whom?”
“Michael Worth.” Claudia shrugged, her robe falling off her shoulder, and she yanked it back up.

“He was very apologetic. I nearly fell and he grabbed me by the waist, steadying me. So charming
and sweet, he flirted with me, treated me so kindly, and I fell immediately under his spell. He asked
me out for a drink.”

“Did he recognize you?”
“Of course not. Your father didn’t parade me around, not back then. I was too busy having babies to

be paraded around like the pretty little wife.” Her mother sounded disgusted.

“Oh, Mama. It sounds like a set-up.”
“It wasn’t. I’m sure it wasn’t. Next thing I knew, I was spending plenty of time with Michael. He

was calling me. Taking me out for drinks in quiet little bars where no one would know him. Inviting
me out to dinner, inviting me to his apartment.”

“Did you go?”
“At first, I refused him. He knew I was married. I told him that upfront, though I did say we were

separated, which was true. It was as if your father disposed of me and forgot I existed. He didn’t want
to deal with my complaining, my unhappiness, all my tears. He was too busy working to worry about
me.” Tears formed in her eyes, and she rubbed them away. “Now I realize I had postpartum
depression. All those babies, all so close to each other. It was too much.”

Stasia sat on the edge of the settee and reached out, resting her hand on top of her mother’s. Claudia

turned her hand palm up, their fingers entwining, and she gave Stasia’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’m
sorry, Mama.”

“It’s not your fault, child. Now let me continue.” Taking a deep breath, she began again. “I realized

soon exactly who Michael Worth was. And it gave me a secret thrill, I’ll admit it. That I was
spending time with a man whom your father despised. I must say I enjoyed his company. He was so
carefree, so fun. I was completely taken with him.”

“And so you became pregnant with me.”
“It wasn’t as simple as all that, my darling. But yes, I became pregnant with you, though I didn’t

know it. I started to realize I missed your father and your brothers. So terribly, I ached with it. I knew
I was being incredibly selfish, so I called your father. And he begged me to come back.”

“You returned to him knowing you were pregnant with me.”
“I never knew. Never. I told Michael I needed to return to Italy and he understood. I finally told

him who I was married to and he became a little angry over that, which didn’t surprise me. I
reassured him I didn’t know who he was when we first met and he said he believed me. He may have
cared for me, but I don’t think I was his one true love. That was his poor deceased wife, Charlotte.”
A fond smile came over Claudia’s features. “He was lonely and I filled in the gaps. He told me more
than once I made him feel young again. That touched me more than I could ever describe.”

Stasia lowered her head, stared at her clutched hands. “It wasn’t a grand love affair, then.”
“It was a simple, sweet love affair. One I didn’t regret. Until now.” Claudia sighed. “I never

expected your father to do what he did.”

“How did he find out?”
“I always, always assumed you were his. I never once thought you might be Michael’s during my

entire pregnancy. But then you were born and Giorgio wanted to name you after his mother. He
wanted to call you Anna, that was the plan all along if you were a girl.” Claudia paused for a long,
heavy moment. “I took one look at you and knew you didn’t belong to Giorgio. You didn’t look like
the boys. Your eyes were blue. Your hair wasn’t as dark. And your features…they looked more like
Michael’s, especially as you grew older.”

“How did you convince Father to name me Anastasia?” She never understood how the name

became hers.

“I was fighting with his mother at the time of your birth. I told him there was no way in the world I

would name my precious only daughter after that devil of a woman. This was a sort of compromise.
He swore he would call you Ana, but I started calling you Stasia instead and it stuck. He was
completely enamored of you. You were his pride and joy, always.” Her mother smiled fondly.

Stasia filled with warmth at her mother’s words. She knew this was true. She’d followed her father

everywhere growing up. Always wanting his approval, she’d strived to get his attention in any and
every way. So why would he so ruthlessly reject her in death?

“Then what happened?”
“He met Hunter Worth somewhere, just before his diagnosis, and realized it was as if he was

staring into your eyes, he told me. Out of the three Worth brothers, you look the most like him. Your
father found it so odd, you see, that you looked so much like Hunter. And I had never confessed my

affair to your father. I knew Giorgio had been with someone after I left him, something short and
meaningless. I never confirmed or denied if I’d been with anyone, but he knew Michael and I had
spent time together when I was in New York. I denied it at first, claimed it a silly coincidence.”

Stasia felt as if she’d been repeatedly punched in the stomach. Nausea threatened, her mouth went

dry and her head spun. This was all…too much. Yes, she’d wanted to know everything, but it was
still overwhelming to take in.

“He put it together. It’s easier when you have a lot of time on your hands, no? He was so sick with

the cancer that had come out of nowhere. Sitting in those treatments, resting at home. His mind raced
and he figured it out. When he came to me and asked if you weren’t his, I pretended I had no idea
what he was talking about. He knew I was lying.” Her mother started to cry. “I only wanted to protect
you. You were innocent in all of this. And now I’ve destroyed everything. Will you ever forgive me?”

“Oh, Mama.” She drew her frail mother into her arms and held her close, rocking her back and

forth as their mutual tears flowed. “You didn’t know Father was going to do this.”

“I had my suspicions. But I couldn’t stop him. He was different these last few years, and it became

worse when he grew sick. He was terribly paranoid, afraid everyone was out to get him, including
me. Including you. And especially the Worths.”

“They didn’t know…”
“It didn’t matter. He still believed it.”
“Mama.” Her mother lifted her head so their gazes met, her eyes still flooded with unshed tears. “I

wish you wouldn’t have hidden away like this. I wish you would’ve told me everything before the
will reading. Before the funeral, even.”

“I didn’t know how.”
“You left me alone, Mama. That hurts.” More than she’d ever know.
Claudia sniffled. “But I know you brought a young man with you. Renzo said you make a very

beautiful couple and that he is very attentive of you. Tell me about him.”

Nerves made her stomach pitch and roil. God, she couldn’t lie to her mother, not after she just

confessed everything. “I’ll tell you about him later. During dinner. You’ll join us for dinner, won’t
you?”

“If…if you will have me.” She nodded and sniffled again, moving away from Stasia. “I know there

is much damage I need to repair. And hopefully you will forgive me. Someday.”

Stasia didn’t know what to say. “I’ll see you later tonight,” she blurted, then fled the room,

slamming the door behind her as she made her escape.

Her mind awhirl, she barricaded herself inside her room, not wishing to see anyone, not even

Gavin.

Especially not Gavin. She wouldn’t know what to say. Needed to put her thoughts together first

after the endless bombs her mother dropped upon her. It was so much to wrap her head around, she
wasn’t sure if she’d be ready to tell Gavin all about it at lunchtime.

Or ever.

Chapter Nine

Stasia didn’t appear for lunch, which Gavin found odd considering she’d wanted to meet. He’d

looked around for her, asked Renzo if he might know where she was, but he was just as clueless. So
Gavin had been on his own, eating yet another amazing meal put together by the equally amazing
Elena. His lunch was a Caprese Salad that had thick slices of mozzarella accompanied by juicy
tomatoes from the garden, along with a tangy balsamic vinegar dressing and fresh basil. He’d become
surprisingly full, when normally he thought of salads as meals were for sissies, but he could admit
when he was wrong.

While eating, he’d made small talk with Renzo, trying his best to discover what he could about

Claudia Renaldi. The older man had been close-lipped, which Gavin could grudgingly admire. At
least he wasn’t blabbing and sharing every secret the family had. When he’d tried to find out
information about Stasia, the old man turned the tables on him, starting to dig into the supposed
relationship Gavin had with her.

He had no details to share, so he made up a few, then grumbled that he had things to do for work

and bailed out of there as quick as possible, feeling like a complete coward.

After lunch he’d gone outside, enjoying the weather and the view while he made a few legitimate

business calls. His new assistant reassured him everything was under control, pacifying Gavin
somewhat. It still felt odd, leaving like he did, especially since he never left. The word vacation had
simply never been a part of his vocabulary. He rarely made business trips either.

So to up and leave like he did was a major change. He knew everyone who worked with him was

shocked. Hell, so was he.

More than anything, he was shocked by what he’d done last night with Stasia. The moment he saw

her naked, he became a man possessed. He’d had to touch her, kiss her, have her. The memory of
tasting her, of licking the very heart of her, and how she’d writhed and panted for him, had him
breaking out into a sweat.

He’d gone and done the one thing he vowed never to do—mess around with a client. Not only did

he do it, but he wanted to do it again. And nothing was going to stop him.

“Hi.”
Gavin glanced over his shoulder, saw Stasia standing there as if he’d conjured her up with his

thoughts. Her face was pale and her eyes rimmed red. As if she’d cried plenty of tears.

“Hey,” he said gently, afraid he might spook her. She looked jittery, nervous, and he noticed her

hand shaking when she raked her fingers through her hair, pushing it behind her ear.

“Sorry I missed lunch.” She offered him a weak smile and settled in the chair next to him.
“Not a problem.” He frowned as he studied her. She looked terrible. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “No. Not really. I spoke to my mother.”
Shock coursed through him, accompanied by relief. This was what they’d come for and it looked

like she’d done it pretty easily. “What did she say?”

“A lot. Not enough and too much, all at once.” She laughed, but it sounded downright manic.

“There’s so much I need to tell you. I don’t know where to start.”

Unable to stop himself, he reached out, settled his hand over hers where it rested on the arm of her

chair. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. You can tell me later—or never.”

“I appreciate that, really I do. And I need to tell you. You need to be prepared for when we meet

with the Worth brothers. My half-brothers—there’s no denying it now. I believe everything my mother

said.” She slipped her hand from beneath his, and he tried not to be offended. Because really, if he
was, how much more of a jackass could he be? “I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin. Want to
get out of here for a few hours?”

He frowned. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I’m terribly serious. We have to be back by dinnertime because my mother will be joining

us.” She tapped her finger against her lips, her gaze pensive. “Something else I need to talk to you
about, you need to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” he asked warily. That didn’t sound good.
“I’ll tell you later. I swear. But first, let’s go. Did you bring swim trunks?”
“Uh, no. Hadn’t planned on swimming while we were here.” He hadn’t planned for this to turn into

any semblance of a real vacation either.

“I’ll find some. My brothers always leave a few pairs at the house. One of them has to be close to

your size, most likely Rafe. I’ll have Renzo send them to the tower and I’ll go change. Meet you by the
car in fifteen minutes?”

“All right.” He watched as she leapt to her feet, moving at lightning-fast speed as she started for the

house. She seemed frantic, frazzled, which wasn’t like her. The conversation with her mother must’ve
upset her greatly, not that he was about to pry.

Though really he had every justification in the world to pry. She was his client. He needed to know

everything so he was armed and ready before he faced the Worth brothers’ wrath.

She stopped, as if she remembered something, and turned to look at him. “I just need a few hours

away from this place, you know? Away from everything.” She smiled, her gaze meeting his. “Thanks,
Gavin.”

“No problem.” He had no idea what she was thanking him for but if she kept looking at him like

that, she should watch out. He might grab her and pull her in for a kiss.

And never let her go.

Stasia took him to the public beach, where it was crowded and noisy and so damned distracting she

forgot all her troubles in an instant. Focused instead on the warm sand beneath her feet, the giant,
bright orange umbrella that gave them a bit of shade from the otherwise intense heat. She shed the
skimpy dress she’d tossed on as a cover up before they left, stuffing it into her giant bag before she
settled onto the lounge chair.

“You going to join me?” She lifted her sunglasses so they rested on her forehead, enjoyed seeing

Gavin so completely out of his element. All around them people chattered in Italian, with a sprinkling
of French and Spanish thrown in for good measure, the beach heavily populated with tourists and
locals alike.

And there stood Gavin, glancing around warily, still clad in a faded red T-shirt and the black swim

trunks borrowed from one of her brothers. The sunglasses he wore were borrowed as well, and they
shielded his eyes, which was a damn shame. Though they rarely gave up his real thoughts or motives,
she did enjoy drowning in his pretty green gaze.

Not that she’d ever admit such a crazy thing…
Looking sexily disgruntled, he pulled his T-shirt off in that one-handed way men had, letting it fall

to the ground so it would get trampled and covered in sand by the time they left. He dropped onto the
lounge chair next to hers, sticking out like a sore thumb compared to the majority of men who were
tanned beyond reason and wearing skimpy Speedo-type swimsuits. How would he look in one of

those types of swimsuits? Foolish or damn good?

She had a feeling it would be the latter.
“I can’t believe you wanted to come here,” he muttered as he settled into the chair. “This beach is

packed. Wall-to-wall.”

“I know, isn’t it great?” She sighed, settled her sunglasses over her eyes and drew her legs up so

they were bent at the knee. Wrapping her arms around them, she hugged herself. “I needed the
distraction.”

“What your mother said must’ve really shaken you.”
Stasia nodded, didn’t bother looking his way. Too afraid if she saw any trace of emotion, a hint of

sympathy, she might lose it. “It did. Funny how I expected it all yet it was a shock to hear anyway.”

“At least it’s confirmation, right?”
“Yes, right. It is definitely confirmation.” And she didn’t know how to deal with it or what to do

next. She was lost. Completely and totally lost, and the only lifeline she seemed to have at the moment
was a certain attorney who was sitting next to her, looking at her as if she’d completely gone insane.

Which might be close to the truth, but she couldn’t dwell on it now. Keeping her gaze glued on the

sea stretched out before them, she decided to go for it. “She thinks we’re together.”

She felt more than saw his head whip in her direction. “What did you just say?”
Glancing at him, she noted his incredulous expression. No surprise there. “You heard me.” She was

sure he did.

“Who thinks who’s together?”
“My mother thinks the two of us are together. Like we’re a couple, seeing each other. Dating.”
“And you told her I was your attorney and nothing more, right?” His voice was firm, sending a

shiver down her spine. Not a good one, either.

“Nope.” She shook her head, feeling one thousand times the fool. “I didn’t. I didn’t want to scare

her.”

“Jesus, Stasia.” She dared to glance his way. He raked his fingers through his hair in that

universally frustrated way, the anger emanating from him palpable.

“Shit. This is just great,” he muttered. “I need a drink.”
“That is the last thing you need and you know it.”
“Be proud of yourself. You’re driving me to drink.”
“Gavin…”
He cut her off. “Don’t try and placate me. This is a bad idea, us pretending that we’re together.”
Disappointment crashed through her, which was ridiculous. What happened between them last night

didn’t mean a thing to him. She’d assumed from the start it had been some sort of release for him and
she’d been merely the vessel for him to take advantage of. He didn’t care about her. He could hardly
stand to be around her, most of the time.

Like now.
He stood. She could feel his steady glare upon her, even shielded behind his sunglasses. “I’m going

in the water. I need to cool down.”

Without waiting for a reply from her, he left, moving between the rows of lounge chairs, pushing

his way through the crowds of people that stood on the edge of the beach. She watched him go,
admiring the width of his back, the play of muscles beneath his lightly bronzed skin. His passing
turned more than a few female heads, not that she blamed them. A woman couldn’t

not

admire Gavin

as he walked past.

She ignored the jealously spiking within her. As if she had any right. She had no claim on the man.

One night beside the pool didn’t make them a couple.

With a sigh, she flopped onto the lounger, staring up at the clear blue sky. She couldn’t disappoint

her mother by telling her the truth, could she? She was in a fragile enough state. Thinking that her
poor, lost daughter at least had a man to cling to most likely had given Claudia Renaldi reassurance.

But what if Gavin was so mad he wanted to leave? How could Stasia explain his abrupt departure?
Closing her eyes, she breathed deep, trying to calm her racing heart. This was a mess. She hadn’t

expected to get so tangled up in her emotions, so tangled up in her feelings for Gavin, whatever they
were. Confusing, baffling, irritating, exhilarating, they were all that and more.

Incredibly hard to deal with too, especially since the man she felt all of this for wanted nothing to

do with her.

Deciding to hell with it, she left her lounge chair, followed the same path Gavin took to the edge of

the water. She stood there, staring into the distance, trying to locate him when he miraculously
appeared. He wasn’t too far out, the water almost chest deep as he faced the beach. She felt his gaze
on her, knew he was watching her, but he didn’t beckon her to join him.

Well, too damn bad. She was going out there anyway. They needed to draw up some sort of plan so

they could figure out how to handle her mother and she couldn’t let him avoid her.

She walked straight into the warm water, never taking her eyes off him as she approached. He

didn’t move either, seemed prepared to wait for her and when she finally waded out far enough that
she was close to him, she finally spoke.

“Ignoring me isn’t going to fix this predicament we’re in.”
“Since you’re the one who put us in it, I’d love to hear your suggestions on how we might fix this.”

The sarcasm in his voice was beyond evident.

She treaded water, her mind awhirl with all sorts of solutions. None of them would appease this

man. “Can’t you do this one favor for me? We won’t be here long. And it’s not like you have to make
declarations of your love for me in front of my mother.”

“We’ll be lying to her, Stasia. Isn’t that why you’re so upset with her? Because she’s lied to you

your entire life?”

Well. He had her there. “I already told her we were together.”
“And you don’t want to look like a liar.”
“I don’t want to disappoint my mother,” she blurted. That was closer to the truth. She knew her

mother wanted her happy. If she could help ease the burden of guilt that had weighed so heavily on
her for so long, then Stasia would do whatever she could.

That she could forgive her mother so easily would probably anger her brothers. Gavin too. But she

couldn’t help it. She’d always had a soft heart.

“Why not? Sounds like she’s been disappointing you your whole life.”
She flinched at the words he flung so carelessly, like sharp weapons that sliced through her skin.

Without another word she turned, struggled against the water as she headed back to shore.

“Stasia, wait,” he called after her, but she ignored him. Tried her best to pick up the pace and get

away from him as quick as she could, but the waves had swelled, sweeping over her and sending her
underwater.

She emerged seconds later, coughing and sputtering, pushing her wet hair away from her face. The

saltwater burned her lips, stung her eyes and a fresh burst of determination fueled her on.

Only to be thwarted by two large hands grabbing her by the waist and stopping her progress.

“Let me go.” The curvy, wet bundle of pissed-off woman struggled against his hold, her backside

brushing against his front, sending a fresh surge of lust straight through him. Obliterating the anger and
absolute frustration he’d felt toward her only minutes ago.

Irritating as hell, this connection he had with Stasia. Gavin didn’t understand it. Couldn’t ignore it

no matter how much he wanted to.

“You’re mad.” He hauled her close, his mouth just above her ear. “What I said was really shitty.”
“Terribly shitty,” she agreed. The more emotional she became, the thicker her accent grew. It was

sexy as hell.

“I was angry. You’ve put me in a spot I really don’t want to be in.” If she didn’t stop rubbing that

delectable ass against him, he was going to lose it.

“I’m sorry.” She stiffened, tension radiating from her in not-so-subtle waves. “I’ve been put in the

same spot, you know. And I’m not happy about it either.”

“I know.” Really, he did. Taking a deep breath, he decided to do what normally didn’t come

naturally for him. Apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He loosened his grip on her but
still kept her close, enjoying her wet, warm skin pressed to his. His hands rested just below her
breasts and without thought he lifted his thumb, caressing the underside of her breast.

She jerked against him. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” He pulled her with him further out, till both of them were treading water, the waves

rocking them back and forth. She felt good nestled against him. He’d wanted to strangle her when she
admitted what she’d told her mother. It felt like this entire case was nothing but lies piled on top of
lies.

Yet here he was, falling into her seductive trap. Funny how he found her even more attractive when

she was madder than hell at him. He never knew he was such a sadist.

“Stop—touching me.”
He swiped his thumb slowly across her nipple, felt the bit of flesh harden beneath his touch. He

was a complete jerk for doing this to her, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

“I can’t help it. Every time I get near you, I need to put my hands on you.” He gave her a little

squeeze. “Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all, pretending we’re together.”

“I thought you hated it.”
“I don’t like lying to your mother. I don’t like lying to anyone.” He drew his finger upward, along

the outer edge of her breast, to trace the string that tied at the back of her neck. “It’s not such a
hardship, though. Touching you, wanting to be close to you.”

She trembled, released a quivery sigh. “I don’t like lying to her either. But it will only be for a few

days. We’ll leave first thing the day after tomorrow.”

“What’s the point of staying longer?” They shouldn’t. She’d found out what she needed to know and

now they should do the practical thing and return to New York. Return to normal life, away from too
bright sunshine and gorgeous guest homes with views that stole a man’s breath. Delicious food,
delicious breezes and the most delicious woman he’d ever met…

“There is more I’d like to talk to my mother about. I need one more day.” She paused, glanced over

her shoulder to gaze up at him. “That’s all I ask for, Gavin. One more day. Then we can go home and
move forward with this.”

He could handle one more day. “Does she want to meet me—as your boyfriend?” It sounded

juvenile, calling himself Stasia’s boyfriend. Lover, yes, somewhat, though the term implied a far more
intimate relationship than what they’d shared. Partner was too formal.

None of it fit. Attorney fucking around with his client? That was it in a nutshell.
He felt like a slimy shit just thinking it.

“She does. She’s excited to meet you, so please don’t say or do anything awful.” Stasia nodded as

he smoothed his thumb back and forth across the back of her neck. “She promised me she would be at
dinner tonight. I hope she shows up.”

“She will. And I may not like this, but I won’t sabotage you, Stasia. I would never do that.”
She offered him a grim smile. “Thank you.”
He whipped her around with a simple turn of his hands so they faced each other. Grabbing her

arms, he settled them around his neck so she had no choice but to cling to him. “I’m serious.”

“And so am I.” She tightened her grip around him, slid her fingers into his hair and tugged ever so

slightly. “Thank you, Gavin.”

She kissed him. Which sent him reeling, as foolish as that sounded. But God, it was the truth. Her

salty sweet lips clung to his in the gentlest of kisses. A simple kiss that had his cock rising and his
blood heating, that made him want to fling her over his shoulder and cart her out of the ocean, straight
to her little car where he would toss her onto the backseat and push aside her bikini bottom, shove his
cock so deep inside her he’d come in an instant.

Yeah. He didn’t do any of that. Merely watched with mute fascination as she disentangled herself

from him. Shot a little smile his way before she turned her back on him and headed toward shore.
“Are you coming?” she called.

He would’ve been if he had his way. And so would she. “Yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath

before he launched himself into the water and went chasing after her.

Chapter Ten

“Your young man is lovely.” Claudia smiled at her daughter as she held her wineglass poised

before her lips. “So handsome and articulate.”

“You really think so?” Stasia glanced in Gavin’s direction. He stood at the opposite end of the

table, engrossed in some sort of business conversation on his cell. He’d asked for her permission to
take the call earlier, a request that had surprised her, and touched her as well. He was showing polite
deference, like they were a real couple and he didn’t want to disturb what should be an important
night for her. Considering the meal had long been over and they were sitting around chatting outside in
the darkening night, she didn’t have a problem with his taking the call.

Considering he wasn’t her real boyfriend, she really shouldn’t have a problem.
“Don’t play coy with me, Anastasia.” The firm tone in her mother’s voice made her jerk her gaze

away from Gavin to find her mother watching her with a bemused smile. “You seem quite entranced
by him.”

“Well, he is, like you mentioned, handsome,” Stasia said somewhat bitterly.
Her mother laughed. “And he’s quite taken with you as well.”
Stasia waved a hand, dismissing her words yet asking, “How can you tell?” Her mother would

concoct some sort of romantic story, no doubt. Of true love and meaningful looks and how they went
hand in hand. Utter nonsense, but Stasia would humor her, agree with everything Claudia said because
how could she argue?

She didn’t want to arouse suspicion, especially since tonight had gone so well.
“He’s completely smitten, considering the way he looks at you, no? He clearly adores you.” The

secretive smile curving her mother’s lips made her nervous. “Are you two in love?”

“Mama,” Stasia quietly chastised, hoping Gavin hadn’t heard that particular question. “We’ve only

started dating.”

“Hmm, you’ve said that already. But there seems to be such a strong connection between the two of

you. It’s so sweet.” The wistful expression on Claudia’s face was unmistakable. “To be so young and
falling for each other, falling in love. There is no other feeling like it, is there?”

Stasia remained silent, believing it best she not acknowledge the statement. Like she’d know. She’d

never been in love in her life and she certainly wasn’t falling for Gavin. Oh, she carried a healthy
dose of lust for him that she couldn’t deny. Lust mixed with irritation because they still argued.

Argue and arouse. That was their pattern. It set her on edge, made her nervous, made her

uncomfortable, made her…feel.

They’d done their best to pretend they were a couple for her mother’s sake, she and Gavin. He’d

been agreeable, had even made up a story of how they first met as they drove back to the villa so they
could have the facts straight. Pretending to be the attentive lover when introduced to her mother, he
never left Stasia’s side throughout the meal, idly touching her in the most casual yet intimate ways.
Grasping her hand, pressing his hand to the small of her back, tangling his fingers in her hair at her
nape. She’d worn her hair up in a high ponytail, held her breath every time he touched her neck, the
stray tendrils that rested there. Having her hair stroked was a secret weakness and it was as if he
sensed it.

Lucky her.
She touched him in return, feeling downright possessive as the night went on. Looping her arm

through his when they walked outside onto the terrace, resting her hand on his thigh for that one brief

moment, feeling his hard muscles beneath her palm. Wishing she were brave enough to slide her hand
up further.

Her cheeks heated and she shook her head. That she could have these thoughts while sitting with

her mother proved Gavin Westmore held some sort of sexual magic over her. A rather disturbing,
potent magic that both captivated and revolted her.

“He’s very successful, isn’t he? I sense he is a young man who’s worked extremely hard to get

where he is,” her mother observed.

Stasia nodded absently. She didn’t know enough about his past to confirm or deny. “He’s very good

at what he does.”

“I’m sure.” The amusement in Claudia’s voice was clear. “I am so happy you’re not alone during

all of this, my darling. And I am so terribly sorry I have run away from it all.”

The jovial tone disappeared, replaced by utter sadness. Reaching out, Stasia rested her hand over

her mother’s. “Come home with us.”

“I—I couldn’t.”
“You should. You have been missed. And I need your support.” The admission had been

particularly hard to make, but her mother should know how much she needed her. The next stage they
were about to embark on was probably going to be the most difficult.

It would make an immense difference, having her mother by her side.
“I need time to prepare,” Claudia said after a long, quiet moment. “Please don’t push me,

Anastasia. This is very difficult for me.”

“It’s difficult for me too, Mama. I have lost my father.”
“And I have lost a husband.” Claudia lifted her chin, defiance firming her delicate jaw.
“I have lost my entire identity. Who I am, where I belong. Everything.” She spat the words out, full

of angry passion. “I was a Renaldi. I had a career. I was an important part of the Renaldi empire. And
he took it all away from me.” Her entire body trembled, she was so angry.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. I will not allow it.” Claudia leapt to her feet, her eyes blazing.

“You cannot blame me for your father’s actions.”

“Actually, I can.” A sort of calmness settled over Stasia as she rose, facing her mother down. They

were of similar statures, but Claudia was shorter and much thinner. Stasia stepped closer, wishing her
mother would realize. Wishing her mother knew how her actions all those years ago changed her
daughter’s entire life. “You should’ve never had an affair with Michael Worth.”

“And if I hadn’t, then you wouldn’t be here. Is that what you wish I would think? That you’d never

been born?” Her mother’s voice had gone shrill.

Stasia recoiled, nausea sweeping over her. “Of—of course not.”
“I never meant for this to happen. It was supposed to be a secret. How was I supposed to know

your father was going to become so shrewd during his last days on this Earth, eh? He became
obsessed with the idea that you didn’t belong to him. It was too deep a betrayal for him to deal with.
He didn’t even want to look at me those last few days. I forced him to. Made him talk to me, see me,
and I begged him not to do anything rash. But he didn’t listen.” Bitter tears flowed now, and Claudia
shook her head. “He never listened. Just like you don’t listen.”

“What is going on here?” Gavin approached, slipping his arm around Stasia so he could pull her

close. “Is everything all right?”

Clearly, it wasn’t, but his appearance, his question diffused their argument somewhat. Stasia

sagged against his solid warmth, thankful for his nearness. He was a steady anchor in this turbulent
storm of emotion, strong and real for her to cling to.

And she did, unabashedly. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she gazed up at him, blinking back the

tears that threatened. “I need to get out of here,” she whispered.

“Excuse us, Claudia,” he said politely, steering Stasia toward the guesthouse. He didn’t ask, didn’t

consult, merely took over as if it was his right and took care of her.

She appreciated it more than he’d ever know.

“What the hell happened between you two?” Gavin asked when he got Stasia into his room. One

minute, mother and daughter were getting along, chatting amicably while he had to take a call from a
client which had taken longer than he anticipated.

The next thing he knew, he’d finished the call and the two women were in a stand off, looking ready

to take each other down. Murmuring hurtful, terrible things to each other that neither of them could
ever take back.

He’d interfered immediately, without thought. Pure instinct had him whisking Stasia out of there

before it got any uglier, though he wasn’t sure if that was possible.

It had sounded pretty damn ugly already when he broke the two women up.
Stasia settled into a chair, exhaling a shaky breath. “She doesn’t think what she did is wrong. She’s

blaming it all on my—father, Giorgio Renaldi, whatever you want to call him.”

“He’s your father. He’s the one who raised you.” Gavin stood just behind her, thankful he could

study Stasia without her noticing. Her bent head, the elegant curve of her neck exposed, those stray
wisps of hair brushing her skin a temptation he could hardly withstand. “Who do you believe is at
fault for this?” He asked the question quietly, not wanting to upset her more.

She whirled around, her eyes wild, her face flushed. “Both of them! She’s the one who had the

affair and kept her suspicions of who my real father was from him my entire life. Then he finds out the
truth and punishes me. Me! It’s not my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed.
“So why am I the one left carrying the burden? Why am I the one who’s looked upon with disgust

by everyone? Why am I the one who’s been stripped of her family and heritage? What did

I

do

wrong?” She dissolved into tears, great wracking sobs taking over her body as she slumped over. He
ached to comfort her, tell her everything was going to be all right but he didn’t know that. Didn’t
know how everything was going to turn out for her.

He wanted to solve all her problems but he didn’t know if he was capable. He had no control over

the Worths. And the Renaldi business structure was locked tight by the ironclad will Giorgio Renaldi
had drawn up.

She might end up the lost little princess forever.
“I hate feeling sorry for myself,” she choked out, wiping the tears away from her cheeks with the

back of her hand. “I hate all of this crying and carrying on. I don’t do this sort of thing, always prided
myself on not being a weepy, weak female. But after the will reading, I cried for days straight. I
thought all my tears had finally dried up, but being here, with my mother…hearing the entire story,
hearing her apologize and then turn around and point fingers at my father, point fingers at me, I...” She
shook her head, too consumed to speak any longer.

That did it. He touched her, wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, massaging her soft,

sensitive skin. A shiver moved through her, and she whimpered, “I’m so tired of all this.”

“You realize it could take years to clear everything up,” he said. She tensed beneath his hand,

inhaling sharply. “Depending on what you want and what the Worths are willing to give you, the case
could be tied up in the courts for years. And then there’s your fight with the Renaldi end.”

“I’m not fighting Renaldi. Why would I fight my family?”
“Why are you thinking of fighting Worth if they’re your family too?”
“I don’t want to fight any of them. Can’t you understand that?” Fresh tears started, and he felt like

an ass. Felt like it was his fault she was crying, which he knew was irrational. Unable to stop himself,
he knelt beside the chair and reached for her, drawing her into his arms. Pushed gently on the back of
her head so she pressed her face into his neck, her tears wetting his skin.

He let her cry for long, quiet minutes. Held her there, propped against the chair, nearly toppling

over a few times but he didn’t move.

Didn’t want to let her down. Everyone else had in her life lately and he didn’t want to be another

name she added to her shit list.

She finally pulled away from him, her face red, her nose redder and her eyes still shiny. “I’m

sorry.”

“For what? Getting the front of my shirt wet?” He was trying for humor, however weak it might be,

and his question earned a small smile from her.

“For falling apart on you. For making you pretend to be my boyfriend.”
“It’s all right.” He slipped his hand over her hair, wanting to soothe. Wanting to…he didn’t know.

Let her know she was in capable hands? After his shitty childhood he’d vowed never to become
dependent on someone. Or let someone else become dependent on him.

Funny how much he wanted Stasia to know she could count on him.
“You’ve had to deal with a lot more than originally proposed.”
He shrugged. “It happens. I’m used to thinking on my feet.” Should he tell her why? Share bits and

pieces of his past so she understood him more clearly?

Would she even care?
“Of course, you are.” She shook her head, released a long, shuddering sigh. “My head hurts.”
“Let’s take a swim,” he suggested.
She reared back, her puzzled gaze meeting his. “What?”
“Just for a few minutes. You need to clear your mind. You’ve been crying and then what, you’ll go

to bed? Your head will be killing you in the morning.” He was trying to be kind. Trying to take care of
her and be a thoughtful person.

He wasn’t thinking of getting her naked and into that pool. Wasn’t thinking of getting himself naked

and into that pool either. He was never one who thought with his dick, not normally. He was better
than that, over that whole horn dog scene that had consumed him during his late teens and early
twenties.

She sniffed. “I don’t know if I want to swim…”
“I’ll join you.”
Her gaze turned skeptical. “I bet you will.”
He chuckled. She saw right through him. “Nothing but swimming, I promise.”
“What if my mother is still out there?”
“I doubt that.” He released his hold on her and stood, went to the window that faced the terrace.

The pool was lit, the water rippling from the faint breeze that stirred the air. No one was around. The
terrace was abandoned. “She’s gone. No one’s out there.”

“I don’t know…”
“Come on.” He smiled. Something he rarely did and he knew he’d shocked her. “I’m hot and tired

and I know you are too. A quick swim will cool us off.”

Or heat them up. Not that he’d mention that.

“Fine.” She sighed, watching from where she sat as he stood. Seeing her like that, her head tossed

back, her gaze imploring as she stared at him, sent a fresh wave of lust coursing through him.

His timing was bad. Sex had to be the very last thing she was thinking of. For whatever reason, it

was forefront in his mind. He couldn’t avoid it if he wanted to. And it was all her fault. This woman,
who made him feel. Who made him think, who sometimes irritated the ever livin’ crap out of him.

It made no sense. It made perfect sense.
“Let’s go.” He started toward the door, stopping when he realized she wasn’t following. “What’s

wrong?”

“Are you going into the pool dressed like that?” She waved a hand at him, confusion written all

over her face.

He glanced down at himself before meeting her gaze once more. He wore khakis and a black

button-down, had dressed up somewhat to impress her mother. “Hadn’t planned on it.”

She let loose a strangled sound. “Aren’t you going to change into swim trunks?”
“Nah. I’m jumping in naked.” He laughed when he saw the shocked look on her face. “What? You

did it last night.”

“Yeah, but…” She paused, as if she struggled with what to say next. “You expect me to jump naked

into the pool with you?”

“If you want,” he said nonchalantly. “Or grab your swimsuit and put it on real quick.” If she chose

to wear the bikini, he’d be disappointed. No matter how unbelievably hot she looked in those two
scraps of fabric, he still would rather see Stasia wearing nothing at all.

Nibbling on her lower lip, she contemplated him, running her gaze over him, from the top of his

head to the tips of his toes. He wondered what the hell she saw.

Wondered if she liked what she saw.
“It’s probably not a good idea,” she finally said. “But I’m tired of worrying. Let’s go.” She started

for the door, threw it open and walked past him.

Leaving Gavin with no choice but to follow.

Chapter Eleven

The night air was warm and heavy, a sultry breeze blowing but not cooling his heated skin. He was

too amped up, too filled with barely restrained energy over what was going to happen tonight.

And something was most definitely going to happen. The tension brewing between them was too

electric to deny.

Watching out of the corner of his eye, anticipation curled through him while he waited for Stasia to

strip and join him. He’d wasted no time once they arrived poolside. Shucking his clothing, tossing
them piece by piece on a nearby chair until he was completely naked, he’d jumped into the pool,
thankful for the cool relief.

Not thankful she remained standing near the deep end, studying him. Oh, she’d pretended to avert

her head when he exposed his more intimate parts, but he’d caught her staring. More than once.

“Are you coming in?” he asked, splashing water in her direction.
She stepped back, but a few droplets hit the hem of her skirt. “Stop it.”
“What? Afraid you’re going to get a little wet?” He smirked.
She sent him an irritated glare and he smiled in return. “You’re in a mood.”
Right. He was in a good mood when usually he was a scowling ass. “The water feels great. You

should strip and join me.”

“I can’t with you watching me.” She twirled her finger in a circle. “Turn around.”
“Why? I’ve already seen it all.” And what a glorious sight it was.
She rested her hands on slim hips, a knockout in the simple, bright blue strapless dress she wore. It

had given him fits all night, was giving him fits now, what with the way her breasts strained against
the top, looking ready to burst free. “Turn. Around.”

Reluctantly, he did as she asked, his head cocked toward where she stood, desperate to hear the

rustling of clothing as it slid off her body. He was rewarded for his efforts. Heard the thunk of her
sandals hitting the concrete as she slipped them off her feet. The tug of her dress as she whipped it
over her head, the oversized silver necklace she wore dropping back against her chest with a soft
clank.

Feeling brave, he shot a quick glance over his shoulder, caught her standing there with a pair of

snow-white panties on, the necklace gleaming against her tanned skin and…

Nothing else.
Withholding the groan that wanted to escape, he closed his eyes for a moment, straining for control.

Those innocent-looking panties would be his downfall. More lace than cotton, they clung to her hips,
dipping so low they barely covered her front. And when she turned to set her dress onto a nearby
chair, the perfect globes of her pert ass were on full display.

His mouth watered. He almost hoped she’d jump in with the panties on, so they would get nice and

wet and see-through and fuel some other fantasy he never knew he harbored for her.

“You’re staring.”
He jerked his gaze from her ass to find her watching him, a bemused expression on her face, her

arms crossed in front of her chest, blocking his view. “Sorry.”

“You promised you wouldn’t look.”
“I couldn’t resist.”
She smiled, unhooked the necklace and tossed it on a table, where it landed with a loud clank. “I

guess I can appreciate your honesty.” She hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties,

started to take them off in front of him, but he stopped her with an emphatic, “No!”

Pausing, she wrinkled her brow in confusion. “What?”
“Keep them on,” he said, his voice quiet. Dark.
A flush swept over her cheeks and she pushed her hair off her shoulders, her breasts thrust forward,

nipples hard, mouthwatering mounds of flesh he wanted to feast on. With a deftness that impressed
him, she dove into the water, a quiet ripple the only indication she’d jumped in. He watched with
unmitigated interest as she swam under the water across the length of the pool, finally popping up in
the shallow end.

“Nice,” he called out.
Stasia turned, slicking her wet hair back from her face. “Thanks.”
“Feeling better?”
She nodded, her expression one of surprise. “Actually, I am.”
“Water feels good?”
“Definitely.” She swam toward him, stayed a safe distance away when she reached the middle of

the pool where he stood. “Want to race?”

He raised a brow. “Seriously?”
She nodded as she treaded water, keeping herself chin deep. Smart move on her part. If he saw her

half-naked, glistening-with-water body, he’d probably do something rash. Like grab her, finish what
they’d started last night. “Scared?”

“Hell no.”
“Then let’s do it. Start at the shallow end, two laps, whoever touches the wall first wins.”
“Sounds good,” he said reluctantly, following her to the shallow end. She would smoke him. He’d

never had any sort of formal lessons, had taught himself at the crappy, crowded public pool where he
grew up. She, on the other hand, moved with an effortless grace, as if she’d been born to the water.

She was going to win. And they both knew it. If this little race helped her burn off some steam and

aggression, then so be it.

“You know you’re going to lose, right?” she taunted him, a saucy smile curving her lush mouth, and

he wanted to kiss her. Drown in her taste, feel that silky tongue of hers sliding against his. Make her
forget all about races and blaming mothers and thoughtless fathers. Until all she could focus on was
the two of them, together. Sliding inside her, feel her velvety hot wetness clutch him tight, fill her
again and again until both of them were coming.

Damn. He needed to focus. She already had the advantage and he didn’t need to give her any more.
“Who says I’m going to lose?” he tossed back.
The naughty smile grew to a full-blown grin and she clung to the edge of the pool, ready to sprint in

front of him and most likely kick his ass. He went to where she waited, clung to the tiled edge of the
pool much like she did, admiring the tiny droplets of water that clung to her skin like sparkly
diamonds.

“I’m feeling competitive tonight,” she said.
“I can tell.” He liked it. Took her mind off her troubles, at least.
“Ready?” she asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
She counted down from three, taking off with a burst of energy that was more than impressive. But

he kept up, kept pace beside her, slicing his arms through the water, kicking his legs hard enough, he
made waves throughout the pool. Always she was slightly ahead of him, a head’s length, then an
arm’s length.

The final lap and she was still ahead, her feet kicking a froth of water that splashed him in the face.

Did she do it on purpose? Amused, a little irritated, he wrapped his fingers around one delicate ankle
and tugged, pulling her to him with one smooth motion.

Stasia struggled against him, pounded her curled fists on his chest, her legs striking out at his. He

dodged her as best he could, hoping like hell she wouldn’t kick him in the groin, proving yet again
what a feisty little thing she was. He wrapped his arms tight around her, tugging her into his body.

“Damn you! I was winning.” She struggled some more, her slippery body sliding against his,

making his cock stir with interest. She felt good, too good, and he settled his hands on her ass, holding
her against his stiffening cock.

“I forfeit. You are the clear winner,” he murmured, lowering his head so his face was in hers.
She looked up at him, blinking away water, her breath coming fast. Her hands rested on his chest,

her thumbs stroking absently at his pecs and he gentled his grip on her backside, caressing her there.
Pulling her in closer.

Closer.
“Where’s my prize?” she asked breathlessly, her voice pitched low.
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, thrilling when she tilted her head, offering him better

access. “Right here.” He ground his erection against her.

She laughed as she slid her hands up and down his chest. “You’re bad, Mr. Westmore. I didn’t

know you had it in you.”

Gavin didn’t answer, dipping his head and pressing a kiss to her mouth instead. Her lips were cool,

the inner recesses of her mouth hot as she opened up to him. He teased her tongue with his, slid his
hands beneath the wet fabric of her panties, gripping her lush flesh close. She moaned in response,
sliding her arms around his neck as she clung to him.

The kiss turned carnal, desperate as their mouths went wider, their hands exploring. He carried her

to the wide step at the shallow end and climbed out of the pool, taking her with him.

“Gavin,” she whispered after she broke their kiss, pressing her mouth to the edge of his chin, his

jaw, his cheek. “Where are you taking me?”

“The guesthouse.” He strode across the terrace, leaving a trail of wet footprints in his wake.
“But what about our clothes?” She licked the side of his neck, sending a tremor through him, and he

gripped her closer, his fingers pressing into her skin.

“Renzo will get them,” he gritted out between his teeth, desperate to retain control. She was setting

him on fire, how she kissed him, touched him, felt pressed against him.

He wanted her in the guesthouse, private and out of sight from prying eyes, naked and warm in his

bed.

“B—but what will he think?” He cut off whatever else she was going to say, locking his mouth with

hers. He couldn’t worry over what Renzo might think. All he could concentrate on was this beautiful,
responsive woman in his arms.

And how much he was going to enjoy finally being inside her.

He was surprisingly strong, her attorney. His arms bunched with muscle as he carried her to the

tower guesthouse, his chest firm and hard when she leaned against it. His erection was huge,
reminding her that he must’ve found something arousing about their little adventure in the pool, even
though she’d almost beat him.

Stasia had been furious when he grabbed her ankle and pulled her to him. But then he’d touched

her, gripped her close, ground his lower body to hers and she’d wanted to come on the spot. He felt

so good, moving against her so that her body sparked with heat.

She loved how possessively he held her. Loved more how he’d thrown open the door without a

care, striding with determination toward the bed and deposited her roughly on the mattress, as if he
was too distracted to handle her with the utmost care.

Oh how she liked that particularly. He was a very quiet, controlled man who she knew preferred

order to chaos. He was organized, precise and paid attention to detail.

But with her, he lost all that organized perfection. He was a flesh and blood man with feelings and

thoughts and wants. Wants he couldn’t necessarily control, desires that drove him to commit almost
thoughtless acts.

Like tossing her onto the bed as if she was a rag doll. She was still wet, her panties soaked, and

she moved to take them off, her fingers curling around the soggy lace and tugging.

“I told you to leave them on.”
A little gasp escaped her and she glanced up, caught him watching her with that smoldering gaze.

His eyes had darkened to gleaming hard emeralds, as green as she’d ever seen them, and she couldn’t
help it—she stared wordlessly, her mouth dropping open, her breath lodged in her throat.

He was by far the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, and she’d seen plenty, enough to know the

fashion industry was the home of the beautiful people. Men or women, it didn’t matter. There was
plenty of beauty to go around.

Somehow Gavin was more beautiful than them all—at least in her eyes.
“But they’re…wet,” she murmured, realizing in a second how provocative her statement was.
His eyes flared. “They’d better be.”
A laugh escaped her when he joined her on the bed, his strong arms banded around her middle, his

mouth fused with hers. She opened to his aggressive kiss, her tongue tangling with his. She sank her
hands into his hair, fingers tugging on the silky ends, drawing him closer. As close as she could get.

“Take them off,” she whispered, grinding her hips to his.
He groaned in answer, his mouth devouring hers, his hands resting at her hips, over the wet fabric

of her panties.

“Please, Gavin. I want them off.” She begged on purpose. Every man she’d ever been with loved it,

and with Gavin, she didn’t look at it as a sign of weakness. She wanted him to take over, to command
her body, to bend her to his will and possess her completely.

“Are you begging?” He sounded surprised. She wasn’t the type to beg. But she knew his touch

would bring insurmountable pleasure. He was worth it.

She was starting to believe he was worth a lot of things.
“I am. You’re not going to make me beg more, are you?”
He tugged her panties down her body as best he could before she took over, kicking them off. Cried

out in shock when he grasped hold of her wrists and hauled her arms above her head, pinning them
there with one hand. She remained silent, watching him, anticipation curling through her blood,
making her hot, restless. Wiggling against him, she lifted her hips, his cock brushing against her belly,
and she whimpered at the sensation of his hot, firm flesh burning against her.

“I think you like begging.” He tightened his grip on her wrists, licked his lips and settled his gaze

on her mouth. So dangerous, so sexy.

Only you.

The thought floated through her mind, unbidden. Shocking.

True.
Squirming, she tangled her legs with his, thrust her breasts against his chest, her sensitive nipples

brushing his pecs. “Please,” she whispered. “I want you inside me, Gavin.”

He growled, dipped his head and stole her breath with a heady kiss. She opened to him, jerked her

hands against his firm hold, wishing she could touch him. Loving how he kept her completely pinned
so her every thought, her every sensation, involved him.

And only him.
He broke their kiss and reached toward the bedside table, plucking a condom from within the

drawer. Tearing it open, he reared up on his knees, rolling the condom onto his thick length with his
free hand, still holding her wrists pinned to the mattress. She watched with unabashed interest,
intoxicated by the sight of his gorgeous masculine body, hungry to taste him, to feel that first exquisite
thrust when his body joined hers.

“Where did that come from?” she asked, referring to the condom.
Gavin shrugged. “They’ve been there the entire time.” He didn’t give her a chance to say or think

anything else, bent toward her to steal a quick kiss before he watched her with hot eyes. “So pretty.”

Leaning in close, he licked at first one nipple, then the other, alternating between them both, wetting

her distended flesh until the sensation became almost painful. He blew across her nipples, his warm
breath making them pucker and tighten and she bucked beneath them. “So needy, aren’t you, baby?”

She wanted to lose herself in him. Find that mutual pleasure she knew they created so easily

together. He seemed to sense her need, lifting away from her so he could grab hold of the base of his
erection, draw the head up and down her soaking wet slit.

A shivery moan escaped her at his teasing. He knew how to drive her crazy with desire. “Gavin.”

His name left her on a gasp when he broached her, the head of his cock poised at her entry.

“Mmm, I like the way you say my name.” Releasing his hold on her wrists, he inched inside her, so

achingly slow she wanted to die from the pleasure of it. He stretched her, filled her with his thick,
pulsing cock, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, sending him deeper.

They moved together, slow and easy, Gavin controlling it, using such restraint she couldn’t help but

admire him. Opening her eyes, she watched him. Saw the tension it was causing him in the sheen of
sweat on his skin, the clench of his jaw, the distended cords in his neck. All that restrained power
boiled beneath the surface, waited to be set free, and she reached for him. Set her hand against his
cheek, stroking his skin with the tips of her fingers as she quietly called his name.

His unfocused gaze settled upon her, his body trembling with the force of his barely tethered

control. “What?” he bit out.

She would’ve laughed, but it wasn’t the time. She wanted all that power and passion unleashed

upon her. Now. “Don’t hold back on my account,” she whispered. “Please.”

Her words were like a switch. Eyes darkening, he let go with an agonized groan, his hips pumping

against hers, his cock filling her again and again, ratcheting the swirling, pleasurable sensations
inside her until she was consumed with them. Consumed with

him.

Clinging to his damp body, she undulated beneath him, crying out when he reached between them

and brushed his thumb against her clit, timing those maddening little circles with the rhythm of his
thrusts. She gasped at his consistent touch, knew she was close, so close to climax, and she willed the
sensation to take over her.

And then she was coming, with such a shout it should’ve embarrassed her. He swallowed her cries,

his tongue plunging deep inside her mouth, in time with his frantic thrusts, and then he was coming
too, shuddering above her, her name falling from his lips until he collapsed on top of her with a loud
grunt.

Stasia held him close, savored his heavy body covering hers. She ran her fingers through his sweat-

dampened hair, whispering soft words in his ear, kissing his salty neck. Their bodies were still

connected, his mouth rested at her temple as he pressed tender sweet kisses along her hairline,
whispering her name. She’d never felt so content.

Her eyes flew open, and she stared unseeingly into the darkness.
The realization scared her to death.

Chapter Twelve

“Alex, thanks for returning my call. Good to hear from you. How’re you doing?” Gavin turned his

chair away from the desk, gazing out the window at the New York cityscape. It was a bright day, not a
cloud in the sky, and the air had been brisk when he’d exited his apartment building earlier to go for
his morning jog.

He’d pounded the pavement as usual, went about his normal route. Stopped for coffee at his

favorite shop down the street from his building on the way home, offered his typical morning greeting
to the doorman—they always chatted about the weather, the stock market, the economy and how the
hell were they going to get out of this fine mess.

His normal, everyday routine. He rarely deviated from it, wasn’t deviating from it now. Yet his life

had completely changed. A few days with Anastasia Renaldi, two long nights in bed with her, their
naked bodies entwined, and he was a new man.

A man with a new purpose—consumed with the crusade to do right by Stasia. Hence his putting in

the call to Worth Luxury first thing upon his arrival to work. He wasn’t going to beat around the bush
on this one. Time was wasting.

“I’m fine.” Alex’s familiar deep voice rumbled over the line. He didn’t sound too pleased. “I hear

you’re representing Anastasia Renaldi.”

Looked like his old friend wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush either. “I am.”
“Do you believe that wise?”
That question sent his ire up. “Why do you ask?”
“The media portrays her as a scheming young woman hell bent on getting what she believes she

deserves, whether it be from the company she’s worked at since she was thirteen or Worth Luxury.”
Alex paused, the silence stretching on for what felt like an eternity. “I wouldn’t recommend coming
after us like that, Gavin.”

“We’re not coming after you.” Damn, this wasn’t going to be easy. Not that he’d believed it would

be.

Alex chuckled. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. Clearly, Miss Renaldi isn’t stupid either. She hired

you. And you’re a cutthroat jackass when you want to be.”

Gavin didn’t take offense to Alex’s remark. He

was

cutthroat. And he could definitely be a jackass.

“You know better than anyone else not to believe everything you see or hear via the media.”

“True.” Another pause, this one shorter. “What does she want?”
“Not what you think.”
“So she doesn’t want twenty-five percent of Worth?”
It was Gavin’s turn to remain silent. Were there rumors going around that she wanted one-fourth of

what she believed hers? They’d left for a handful of days and the story exploded. “She wants to meet
with you.”

“Impossible.”
“Why? And not just you, Alex—she wants to meet with all three of you.”
Alex sighed wearily. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Hunter is furious. Afraid she’s going to try

and come in and take what we’ve worked so hard to build. And Rhett is so in love with his girlfriend
he’s blissfully unaware of how high the stakes are in all of this.”

“I suppose you’re trying to hold everything together.” Typical Alex. He had big brother syndrome

down pat.

“Always. Why does she want to meet?”
“Why else? She wants to get to know you.”
Alex laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m telling the truth. She’s not in a good place right now. After Giorgio Renaldi disinherited her

because he wasn’t her father and the odd way her mother has treated her since, her life’s a mess.” A
terrible mess he’d witnessed firsthand. He still couldn’t believe Claudia Renaldi’s selfish neglect of
Stasia. “She’s looking for an anchor. Looking for her place in a family and she wants to meet her new
brothers.”

“My father never mentioned Claudia Renaldi to us. Ever. Not even in passing. He didn’t like

Giorgio Renaldi, but that was healthy competition, nothing more.”

“According to Stasia’s mother, the affair happened. Claudia told Stasia the entire story.”
“Did you hear it?”
“No.” He wished he had. Everything he learned in regards to the circumstance was secondhand

information via Stasia. She might’ve forgotten details, misinterpreted what her mother said. And he
couldn’t admit to Alex why he never heard the story. Claudia didn’t know Gavin was Stasia’s lawyer.
She believed them a couple in love.

Not the usual way he conducted business.
“Strange, but I’m not one to criticize the way you handle yourself.”
“I appreciate that,” Gavin said wryly.
“I’m sure you do. I don’t think we should bother meeting until a DNA test is completed and we

know for sure.”

“That could take up to two weeks,” Gavin pointed out. He could get whiplash, what with the way

Alex changed subjects. And if he had to tell Stasia she’d have to wait upwards of two weeks before
meeting the Worths, she’d most likely flip.

Something he really didn’t want to deal with.
“Not much time, don’t you think? She’s waited this long,” Alex said. “What’s another two weeks?”
“She’s tired of waiting. Can you imagine what it’s like? To lose your birthright, your foundation,

your career? She’s been a part of Renaldi Accessories her entire life, just like you’ve been a part of
Worth Luxury your whole life. What would you do if it was taken away from you out of nowhere?”

“I’d fight to keep it all.” The conviction in Alex’s voice was strong, inarguable.
“What if legally you couldn’t? What if everything was so tied up in legalities, it would take years

to untangle?” A team of lawyers that handled estate and corporate laws had been hired by her oldest
brother, Matteo, over the last few days. They planned to evaluate the entire will, looking for any weak
spot where they could possibly break free of the clause that Stasia could no longer work for Renaldi,
that legally banned her from participating even an iota in the family business.

Alex sighed. “I get your point. Let me call Hunter and Rhett and try to coordinate a meeting. It’ll

have to be here, though. No longer than thirty minutes and…I can’t guarantee the other two will
participate.”

“Understood.” Excitement fizzed in Gavin’s veins. Now they were getting somewhere.
“I’ll have my assistant call you as soon as we can schedule it.”
“Mid this week would be ideal,” Gavin suggested.
“I’m sure it would.” The amusement in Alex’s voice was clear. At least he was being amendable.

“I’ll speak to you soon.”

Gavin hung up, a smile curving his lips. It wasn’t a complete victory, but he’d jumped a major

hurdle and it wasn’t even noon. He’d been secretly afraid he couldn’t convince Alex and his brothers

to see Stasia. Alexander Worth could be a stubborn son of bitch when he wanted, a man few crossed.

But he’d also been a thoughtful friend when they were in college. Alex had taken Gavin in with no

questions when they were incoming freshmen, introduced him to his friends and treated him like he
wasn’t different than anyone else. Coming into such a prestigious college, he’d been nervous, afraid
he wouldn’t fit in. Alex had eased his worries. Had turned into a lifelong friend, even though they’d
drifted apart over the last few years.

Alex was, above all, a man who always put family first, who’d taken the Worth name and grew it

into a global brand that only the elite few could compete with. Gavin didn’t blame him for being
protective, for wanting to keep his family out of the muck and mire that had consumed Stasia since the
death of Giorgio Renaldi.

The entire situation was a complete mess and would most likely take years to straighten out. He’d

tried to break that to Stasia as gently as he could on the plane ride home. She’d nodded as if she
understood, watching him with those pretty dark blue yes, tempting him with her sweet, sad beauty.
After a few minutes of talking business, he’d broken down, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Which had turned into a minor make out session on the red eye back to New York. Thank God the

majority of people on the flight had been sleeping, with the exception of the flight attendant, who’d
smirked every time she passed by them.

Gavin swiped a hand over his face. He wasn’t handling this correctly. One minute the strict, by-the-

book attorney, the next the lust-addled man who thought with his dick and nothing else. It was crazy.
And so far, he wasn’t fighting it.

He was probably making the biggest professional mistake of his life, but he couldn’t resist her. It

was both simple and the most complicated feeling he’d ever experienced.

Exhaling loudly, he grabbed the phone, punched in Stasia’s cell number. She answered on the third

ring, sounding breathless, which fueled every phone-type fantasy he’d had over the last few years.

Now she was the starring feature in all his fantasies.
“Couldn’t stand going a few hours without speaking to me?” she teased as an answer.
“I spoke with Alex.”
She sobered immediately. “What did he say?”
“He was reluctant at first, but I talked him into it.”
“Reluctant over what? Meeting with me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “And what about the other two? Will they be there as well?” So much hope

sounded in her voice, he knew he’d hate to disappoint her.

“Supposedly. Alex will get back to me later today and let me know when this meeting will take

place.” Gavin paused before he launched into the next bit of news. “He wants a DNA test.”

“Of course he does.” She sighed forlornly. “I suppose I should go and get one, then.”
“The sooner, the better. This could come to a complete standstill if you don’t do it. Alex assured

me he’d get a DNA test soon as well.”

“I’ll do it, don’t worry. I’m just…scared. What if my mother lied? What if she made up this entire

thing to get us some money and get her a bit of fame?”

“You don’t think she’d do something like that, do you?” Horror filled him. If this all turned out to

be a lie…he didn’t know if his career could survive the fallout.

“No, I believe her. I really do. I sometimes wish it all wasn’t true, you know? That it never

happened.” She laughed softly, but it wasn’t real. More like hiding her true feelings, which were
probably too much for her to deal with. “That I’ll wake up and this will all turn out to be a bad

dream.”

She wished she’d wake up from this bad dream that was her life? His gut clenched and he felt like

he’d been kicked. What about him? Damn it, he was offended. The feeling was completely irrational,
but he couldn’t deny it.

“But then I wouldn’t have met you.” She sounded like she was backtracking. “And I’m glad for

that.”

Confusion swirled within him. Was she really? The constant back and forth between them was

starting to wear thin. “Listen, Stasia, I have to go, lots to do still today. But I’ll call you when I hear
back from Alex, hopefully that’ll be today.”

“Gavin, wait—”
He hung up, too agitated to talk to her. Afraid what he might’ve said if they’d continued the

conversation. He wanted to tell her how he felt. Wanted to know if she really felt the same way about
him. But he was also afraid. What if this—thing they shared nothing but a lark for her?

It was a thought he really wasn’t prepared to face.

Stasia paced the floor, chewing on her index finger and trashing the nail, effectively ruining her

manicure with a few gnashes of her teeth. The meeting with the Worths had been scheduled for eleven
o’clock, and it was already ten past. She was punctual to a fault, had arrived ten minutes before the
meeting, and the wait had been agonizing.

The Worth Building was huge, a rather famous tower in Manhattan’s Garment District. The interior

was constructed of glass and chrome, oversized framed posters of the various Worth campaigns
through the years, reminding everyone who entered the building they were in the presence of fashion
greatness.

Stasia felt much like a groupie, a longtime fan who’d finally met her idol. She’d always admired

Worth Luxury’s business acumen, the steady growth Alexander Worth had brought for the company. It
had fallen on hard times prior to Michael Worth’s death, and his eldest son had worked long and
hard, devoting hours, years to build the brand into the global powerhouse it was today.

How she wished she could still be with Renaldi and help it grow. She had no doubt her brothers

would do well, but she knew her touch, her ideas, were as invaluable as theirs.

Sadness gripped her. Would she ever have a chance to work at Renaldi again? Or would she be

forever adrift, unable to find her place in life, always the lost princess of fashion with no castle or
crown.

Pushing her ridiculous thoughts out of her brain, she glanced around, noted the elegant woman who

sat behind the reception desk. Her dark hair slicked back, with cherry red lips and heavy black-
framed glasses, she was chic in that New York way. A look Stasia had never been able to
accomplish, what with that touch of Italian wildness flowing through her veins.

The woman was beautiful, as was the executive floor’s lobby, which was the epitome of

understated elegance. Warm lighting that cast the room in a flattering glow, more of those large
posters of vintage Worth Luxury advertisements. Sleek brown couches made of the softest leather
invited visitors to sit, the sort of furniture a person could sink into and never want to get out of.

She’d sat on one to test it, only to immediately bounce back up and start pacing. Nerves wouldn’t

allow her to relax. They were pinging inside her belly like one thousand metal balls in a pinball
machine. Clanging and banging against each other until she thought she might be sick from the constant
motion.

Gavin stood near the elevator, on his phone as usual. Something wasn’t right with him. He’d been

avoiding her, claiming he was busy at work, but she knew he was lying. For whatever reason, he kept
his distance. She wasn’t sure if he was angry with her or merely trying to keep it professional after
what had happened between them in Italy.

A shame that he avoided her, since what they shared those few stolen nights had been some of the

best sex she’d ever experienced. The man was a smoldering, gorgeous mass of contradictions, almost
all of them infinitely arousing. On one hand stern and uncommunicative, irritating the life out of her,
he could turn on a dime. Become charming, smooth, funny, sweet, sexy…

Most definitely sexy.
“Miss Renaldi, Mr. Westmore? They’re ready to see you now.”
Stasia whirled around at the sound of the woman’s voice, heard Gavin’s approach from behind.

Without a word, he settled his hand at the small of her back and walked with her as they fell into step
behind the assistant. She led them down a short hall, stopping at a door on the right, which she opened
with an efficient flick of her wrist. Offering them a small smile over her shoulder, she murmured,
“Right this way.”

They entered a small conference room that was dominated by a broad table, which was surrounded

by at least ten black high-backed chairs. The room was empty, not a Worth in sight, and Stasia turned,
prepared to ask the woman where they might be.

The assistant was ready for her. “They’re on their way. A previous meeting ran late and they have

just now returned. They’re in the elevator as we speak.”

Stasia snapped her lips shut. “Oh. Thank you.”
“May I offer you coffee? Tea? Perhaps a glass of water?”
The thought of drinking anything made Stasia’s stomach slosh unattractively. “No, thank you.”
“For you, Mr. Westmore?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” His deep voice was a balm, soothed Stasia into believing everything was

going to be all right. Gavin was an old friend of Alex’s. He was her lawyer, her guardian, the man
who knew her current weaknesses and strengths, who would do his best to protect her.

She wasn’t going into this alone, and knowing that was a tremendous relief.
The woman exited the room without another word, the only sound the quiet click of the door

shutting behind her. Exhaling sharply, Stasia turned to Gavin, hoping for words of reassurance.

He said nothing, merely looked at her as if she were nothing more than a very uninteresting bug

crawling across the floor.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The words flew out of her before she could give them any

thought but she didn’t regret them. Her fiery temper, which had been doused to near nothing after all
the devastation her father’s death brought to the family, had suddenly flared back up with a vengeance.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong with me.” He fixed her with a neutral stare, his lips pressed into a

hard, thin line. “You, by the way, are a bundle of nerves.”

“No kidding,” she muttered, pulling out a chair so she could sit. She sank into the butter-soft chair

with a quiet sigh, determined to get to the bottom of Gavin’s mood. “You’ve avoided me, Gavin.”

He sat next to her, his arm bumping against hers, though he wouldn’t look at her. “I’ve been busy at

work. I told you this.”

“And I don’t believe you.”
A chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. “That’s unfortunate, since it’s the truth.”
“What happened? Did I do something? Say something? Is there anything you’re not telling me in

regards to this meeting? Are they going to drop some sort of verbal bomb that will send me reeling?”

She grabbed his arm, gave it a little shake. “I’ve been sent reeling before, Gavin. I don’t think I could
take it again. Not now, not so soon after my father’s death.”

“Let me reassure you, I know of no bombs the Worths might’ve planned to drop on you. Today’s

meeting is a simple meet and greet sort of thing. A chance for you to talk to them, to show a bit of your
personality, to show you’re not threatening them or the company in any manner.”

“That is all anyone cares for, is it not? Money and riches and who might end up with what cut.” The

disgust curling through her was potent. Overwhelming. “They see any sort of glimmer of my diamond-
encrusted claws and they’ll lock down their entire financial portfolio when I couldn’t give a damn
about getting one cent out of them.”

“You know that, Stasia. I know that. But

they

don’t know that. And they’re the ones who matter right

now,” Gavin pointed out.

She released her grip on his arm, taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I need to keep a cool head.”
“You do. Don’t display even an iota of that temper you just shared with me. They’re looking for

any excuse to walk and shut down communication with you. Don’t give them a reason.”

Emitting an un-ladylike snort, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “All of this hinges on me

and my behavior. I am the one who is scrutinized. It’s so unfair.”

“It is what it is. You take it too personally and you’ll fall apart within minutes. Stay strong.” He

leaned in, brushed the quickest, sweetest kiss to her cheek. “You can do this, baby. I know you can.”

She stiffened her spine, his words and tender kiss giving her courage. There was still minor turmoil

rumbling between them, but they would solve their troubles later. Right now, she needed to focus on
the task at hand. Convincing the Worths she wasn’t a threat.

The door opened, and one by one, the brothers entered the room, in birth order, even. Alex first,

emanating power with just a glance, his expression tight, his dark blue suit utter perfection. She
trembled at the sight of him, gripped the arms of her chair tight when he looked at her, then flicked his
glance away.

Dismissed. Just like that.
Hunter was next, his expression one of seething, barely restrained anger. He wouldn’t even look

her way as he chose a chair to sit in, keeping his gaze carefully averted.

Disappointment left a hollow in her stomach.
And finally Rhett strode in. Casually dressed in khaki pants and an untucked white button-front shirt

with the sleeves rolled up, he appeared to have not a care in the world. He flashed Stasia a cheeky
grin, acknowledging her with a flick of his chin.

It was probably foolish, but Stasia viewed the youngest Worth brother as her only ally among them.
“Gavin,” Alex said, reaching out to shake Gavin’s hand, who stood to greet him. “Good to see you.

You’re looking well.”

“Same goes for you, Alex.” They shook hands before they both sat down, Alex directly across from

him. “I see marriage and fatherhood agrees with you.”

A spark of pleasure lit Alex’s dark blue gaze, quick as a flickering match before the flame was

doused. “It does, indeed. Family, as you well know, has always been important to me.”

“I do know. That’s why I hope you’re looking forward to meeting my client.”
Alex’s gaze met hers and fear trembled in her heart. He was intelligent, shrewd. Tough. She’d

heard many a story how he could make grown women and men cry with just a look.

She refused to let him break her. After all, she’d grown up with three macho Italian brothers who

thought they were God’s gift. Surely she could handle three more of them, right?

“You resemble Hunter,” Alex said after a long pause. “I see it in the shape of your face.”

She remained silent, her gaze flicking in Hunter’s direction, but she couldn’t get a good read since

all she saw was his profile. “It is a pleasure to meet you. All three of you,” she said, casting her gaze
about the table.

“It’s good to see you again, Anastasia,” Rhett said, his voice friendly, his expression open.
Hunter glared, jabbed Rhett in the side with his elbow. “Have you taken a DNA test yet?”
“Jesus, Hunter, do you always have to be such a jackass?” Rhett asked under his breath.
“Silence. Both of you,” Alex demanded, as if talking to his dogs. Funnily enough, it worked. “I was

informed by Gavin that you went and took a DNA test two days ago. Is that correct?”

“It is. I should have the results by late next week, hopefully.”
“I took a DNA test yesterday.” Alex paused. “What are you going to do if the results are negative?”
She was shocked he would ask. “Well, I figure you care more if they’re positive, so if the results

are negative, isn’t that really none of your business?”

An almost-smile curled Alex’s lips. “It’s our business if the results aren’t clear enough and we still

have questions.”

“I don’t think we should discuss anything until we know for sure if she’s related to us or not,”

Hunter said, his irritation clear.

“I agree,” Alex said quietly, his gaze roving over her face, as if memorizing her features. “But the

more I look at her, the more I think she looks like you, Hunter.”

Hunter scoffed. “I don’t see the resemblance.”
“I do,” Rhett piped up, his gaze now trained on her as well. “She looks like Dad.”
Her heart hurt at the simple statement. She’d never admitted it her entire life, but she’d always

thought she looked so different compared to her brothers. Whereas their hair was dark as midnight,
their skin olive-hued, their Italian features strong and swarthy, and they all had the prominent Renaldi
nose. She didn’t, though. Stasia always figured she inherited her features from her mother.

But deep down inside, she knew she didn’t resemble her mother either. When she looked at family

portraits, she felt like the single outsider. The anomaly with the pale skin and blue eyes. No one in the
family had blue eyes. Not a one of them.

Every single Worth staring at her at this very moment did.
“You do look like

our

father,” Alex said. “The resemblance is most definitely there. But I’m

reserving further judgment until the DNA results are in.”

Of course. They couldn’t take her word on it or accept her features as gospel truth either. She knew

this and couldn’t blame them, had prepared for it from the moment this meeting had been confirmed.

It still hurt, though, Alex’s words. And he was being nothing but professional. Polite.
“This is such bullshit. Why are we wasting time talking to her and the lawyer? We’re probably just

giving them fodder they can use against us when they take us to court anyway,” Hunter said.

“I have no plans to take you to court,” she started, but he cut her off with a sneer.
“Save it.” Hunter held up a hand, dismissing her with a finger wave. “We know why you’re here.

You get cut off from Renaldi, so now you’re sniffing around, looking for another inheritance to put
into your bank account.”

She gasped, shocked at his accusation. “You don’t know me. How dare you pass judgment on me?”

Gavin rested a hand on her forearm, most likely a warning for her to be quiet but she ignored it.

“It’s a sordid little story, you have to admit. I’m surprised the media hasn’t made a bigger deal of it

and continuously splashed the lurid details all over the tabloids, but I assume they have bigger fish to
fry.” Hunter shrugged, his shoulders straining the fine fabric of his charcoal gray suit. “We’re lucky in
that regard, unless you plan on leaking more information and making us look like complete assholes.”

Another gasp left her, this one louder. “Do you really think that low of me?”
“Sweetheart, that would be an affirmative.” Hunter leaned across the table, his hard gaze meeting

hers. “Don’t think you can just waltz in here and make all it’s-happy-family-time with us. I’m on to
your game. I know what you really want.”

“All I—I want is a sense of place. I want to get to know you all as my brothers. As my family.” She

hated that he made her falter over her words, that he intimidated her so. She hadn’t expected the
anger, the outright hostility.

“Give me a break. You really want a piece of the Worth fortune. And guess what?” When she

didn’t answer quickly enough, he grinned, looking like a shark out for the kill. “You’re not getting a
fucking dime of it.”

Chapter Thirteen

Takeout Chinese food was the cure-all for life’s problems. At least, that’s what Gavin had

believed from the time he was a child and wishing he had a normal upbringing. His had been anything
but normal, what with a father who ditched them before Gavin could remember him and a mother who
wasn’t one to stick to a decent job for any normal length of time. That meant money was always tight.
They’d moved a lot, from one shithole to another, and he started hanging out with the worst sort of
kids, not that his mother ever cared what he was doing.

But when she was feeling low or having a bad day, his mom would bring home Chinese takeout,

and for a little while, both of them could pretend everything was all right. Those nights with his mom
had given him a flicker of hope. Made him realize that maybe everything

would

be all right someday.

She’d had such plans for him. That he would go on and do something great with his life and take

care of her. They’d usually laugh, him muttering a sarcastic yeah, right, but secretly, he’d wanted to
take care of her. Provide her with everything she’d never had.

Too bad she passed away before she saw him graduate law school. He knew she would be proud.

Would’ve probably bragged to all her friends what a big-shot lawyer her son was. Her death had
been a shock, a massive heart attack at the age of thirty-nine. He knew she’d died of anxious worry.
They’d never had enough money to cover anything. He’d suffered with threadbare, too-small clothes,
worn out shoes, and sometimes on rare occasions, no food to eat.

It had been a tough life. He’d been a tough kid with a tremendous chip on his shoulder too. He’d

hated pretty much everyone. Had an issue with authority figures. Was flippant, defiant, a juvenile
delinquent with a penchant for finding trouble and a frequent drug user.

All before the age of eighteen.
That had been his saving grace—getting all that out of his system, so to speak, prior to becoming of

legal age. He’d met a man, an older retired guy who moved into their building. A man who had no
problems telling him he was a disrespectful asshole troublemaker who was driving his mother to an
early grave.

For once, Gavin had listened—and taken the old man’s advice. He’d straightened up, graduated

school, worked hard at community college, and lo and behold, got into law school. Like some sort of
miracle, he’d done right.

He missed her, regretted how he’d treated her, though she wouldn’t have won a mother of the year

award. Sometimes, late at night, when his thoughts drifted to her, guilt consumed him. Had he driven
her to an early grave?

It was too horrific to contemplate for long.
So whenever he was down, when he lost a case, when he became so consumed with work he

thought he might drop, he got Chinese takeout for dinner. It calmed his soul, reminded him of those
rare carefree times he’d spent with his mother, and besides, he really freaking liked Chinese food.

Tonight, for Stasia, he’d ordered so much damn food, it felt like there were at least a hundred of

those tiny little takeout boxes scattered across his kitchen counter. He’d wanted to cheer her up, hated
to see her so sad and thought food would be a good option to however temporarily cure her blues.

He’d been wrong. She picked at the food on her plate, hardly ate any of it. Hardly talked either.

The meeting had been a rough one. Alex was the quiet, noble one who wouldn’t give an inch until that
damn DNA test came through. Hunter was hostile as fuck, hurling words as if they were weapons, one
after the other, and then watching the aftermath with glee. The only one who’d been nice was Rhett,

but he’d hardly said a word, almost as if he were afraid he’d step in it and say the wrong thing, only
to deal with the wrath of his brothers.

Not that Gavin could blame the man, but still. Talk about a goddamn mess.
The meeting had lasted no longer than twenty minutes, and when they’d finally stumbled out of the

Worth Building, both of them were stunned silent. He felt like he’d gone through a war zone, engaged
in full-on combat, and he wasn’t even the one they’d attacked.

He could only imagine how Stasia must’ve felt. Still felt.
“Are you going to eat?” He pushed away his empty plate, his stomach so full it hurt. He’d been

ravenous, having not eaten all day, too busy to stop for anything.

Stasia shook her head, pushing her plate away from her as well. “I appreciate the effort, but I’m not

hungry.”

“Have you eaten at all today?” Concern filled him. He’d known her for only a short time and he

swore she was thinner than when he’d first met her.

She shrugged slim shoulders, gazed off into the distance as if lost in thought. “I don’t remember.”
“Hey,” he murmured. She met his gaze, her eyes rimmed red, dark circles beneath them, and wan,

pale skin. Crying so damn much since the meeting, which infuriated him. “It’s going to be all right,
you know. Those test results will come back and prove who you are without a doubt. Then we’ll
make the next step.”

“It won’t matter. They still won’t accept me.” She shook her head, pushed her hair away from her

face. “No one accepts me. I have no family.”

“You have the Renaldis. You told me more than once your brothers are working their hardest to

help you.” They stayed in contact with her, especially Matteo. Gavin had spoken to Rafe only a few
days ago with questions in regards to Stasia’s emotional state. They worried about her, didn’t believe
her when she said everything was all right. All three of them wanted Stasia back in Italy, working at
Renaldi.

But she was so focused on earning acceptance from the Worth brothers, she couldn’t see her family

was waiting for her. Wanting her back.

“I could lose them. They could forget me. My so-called father made sure the possibility is there.

And now these men, these Worth people who think they are so high and mighty, as if they are above
me and can look down their nose at me. They don’t want me anywhere near their family or their
business.” She sniffed, disgust and misery written all over her pretty face.

“Not true. You heard Alex.” Alex would always do right and be fair. It was in his blood, and if

Stasia was blood, then he would stand by her and rectify the situation.

“Oh, he said all the right things, but I doubt he wants me to

interfere

with the family. I’m the

interloper, you see. And even if they do somewhat accept me into the fold, they’ll view me as the
enemy for the rest of my life. I may as well not even bother contacting them anymore.” She grabbed a
discarded chopstick, tapping it against the edge of the plate.

“Now don’t go saying that,” Gavin started, but she cut him off with a look.
“It’s true and you know it. You saw how they were, especially Hunter.” The tapping increased its

pace, setting him on edge.

“Hunter can be an asshole to anyone.” He’d heard Alex say that more than once. The guy was

charming, extremely good at his job and equally extremely protective of those he cared for, which
earned him the reputation of acting like a guard dog when a stranger got too close.

Like Stasia did.
“Don’t take it personally,” he said, mostly to calm her down. But he knew she had and didn’t blame

her for it either. All the scathing remarks Hunter had hurled her way had most definitely been
personal. The guy knew how to go for the throat.

She snapped the chopstick in half, tossed the remnants on the table with a loud clatter. “Easy for

you to say. You’re not the one who’s being attacked.”

“He didn’t mean it. He’s afraid. And when you have a snarling, scared animal backed in a corner,

he lashes out any way that he can.”

“I’m not backing him into a corner, I’m trying to tell him the truth.”
“And he doesn’t believe you. Hence his defensiveness,” he countered.
“So that’s what we’re calling being a complete asshole these days? Defensiveness?” Her voice

rose, her cheeks flamed pink. She was good and pissed now.

Which he preferred to her being sad and desolate.
“He has a rather gruff reputation in the business.” Now Gavin was the one being defensive.
This entire case was starting to make him crazy.

“I don’t care. He was awful to

me.

He doesn’t believe a word I say. I bet he fully expects that DNA

test to come back negative.” This was Stasia’s absolute worst fear. She couldn’t help but think it
would happen.

And then what would she do?
“He hates me,” she continued when Gavin hadn’t said anything. “Funny how the one I look most

like absolutely despises me.”

“It is pretty ironic,” Gavin agreed.
She sent him a withering stare. “Do you think I look like him? Hunter?”
He was quiet for so long, he made her nervous. And when he still didn’t speak, she felt like she

was going to crawl out of her skin. “Say something!”

“You look like him.” He studied her much like the Worth brothers had earlier. “It’s in the eyes and

the shape of your face. From here up.” He held his hand above his mouth. “You resemble him
strongly.”

Relief trickled through her. “You believe me, don’t you? That Michael Worth was my father?”
The incredulous look that came over his face stunned her. Her words stunned him, clearly. “I can’t

believe you would ask that. Of course I believe you. Why do you think I’m here, helping you?”

“I’m starting to doubt myself, you know.” She picked up another chopstick, dragged it through the

food that still sat on the plate, untouched. “What if this is all some sort of cruel hoax? What if my
mother slept with all sorts of men when she split from my father? Who knows who my father could
be?”

“Your mother wouldn’t be so mean as to play such a hoax on you, Stasia. No matter what you think

of her, no matter how badly the two of you are getting along at the moment, I don’t believe she would
be that awful to you.”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t.” Stasia closed her eyes, leaned her head forward. “I’m so confused,

so sick of this. I don’t know what to do anymore, what to say, what to think.”

“Don’t think.” He settled his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers gently pressing into her skin.

“Relax tonight. Try not to let it all get to you.”

“Too late.” It would forever get to her. Didn’t he see this?
“I didn’t get along with my mother either,” Gavin said, his tone casual.
She stiffened beneath his touch. It wasn’t like Gavin to share personal information. “What about

your father?”

“He was never in my life. I…I don’t really know who he is.” Gavin started massaging her in

earnest, his fingers working magic on the tight knots in her neck. The tension slowly ebbed as he
rubbed and prodded and she relaxed her shoulders, kept her eyes closed, concentrating on the way he
touched her.

The way he made her feel.
“Why didn’t you get along with your mother?”
“Our life was…nothing like yours. I grew up poor. My mom worked dead-end jobs or didn’t work

much at all. And I was a pain in her ass, especially when I was a teenager. I did things I shouldn’t
have. I stole things. I did drugs. I was your stereotypical teenage troublemaker.”

Shock coursed through her. She couldn’t imagine Gavin as a stealing, drug-taking teen. That he’d

cleaned up his life so completely was admirable. “You probably think I’m a spoiled little girl
constantly having fits.” Embarrassment filled her. Her behavior bordered on the ridiculous. Gavin had
grown up with nothing and made something of himself when he could’ve ended up a complete mess.
She’d been handed everything and now that it was taken away from her, she stomped her foot and
expected immediate action.

“I don’t. You’re upset. Your reactions are valid.” He smoothed his fingers down her nape with the

gentlest of touches, sending gooseflesh scattering all over her skin. “You need to be strong and stand
up for what you believe in.”

“It’s so hard,” she admitted, hanging her head low.
“Remind yourself that you have your brothers. The Renaldis.” When she was about to protest, he

cut her off. “You do. Don’t deny it. Maybe you should reach out to your mom too. You’re both hurt
and lashing out because of it. Don’t make the mistake I did,” Gavin said softly.

Stasia turned to look at him, her breath lodging in her throat at the sincerity in his expression, the

worry shining in his gaze. “What mistake was that?”

“Once I became busy with my own life, I rarely saw my mom. I didn’t make enough time for her

and then I lost her forever.” Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, his fingers stroking her skin. “You’ll
regret it.”

Her throat ached with emotion and she swallowed it down, leaning into his touch. He understood

her and that meant the world to her. “You’re right,” she whispered.

“You should take a bath,” he murmured. “It’ll relax you.”
“That sounds nice.” She was tired. The last week’s events—heck, the last month’s events—were

catching up with her, sending her straight into exhaustion. “I might fall asleep in the tub, though.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t. Come on.” He reached for her arm, helped her stand. She leaned against

him, thankful for his strength, for the way he took control of things when she didn’t want to deal with
any of it. “Let’s get your tub started and you can strip.”

“You’re just doing this so you can see me naked,” she mumbled as he led her down the hall toward

his bedroom and master bathroom.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating from his chest, against her ear her where she leaned her head.

“You caught me. I’m nothing but a pervert.”

“I happen to like perverts.” She liked this particular one especially.
“Then I can happily oblige.” With a tug of his hand, he pulled her into the bathroom. She stopped

and looked around, impressed by the completely enclosed glass and tile shower, the separate tub with
jets. It was a huge bathroom with double sinks, plenty of cabinet space. A bathroom made for a
couple.

She frowned, wondered if he’d lived with another woman before. He was a self-admitted

workaholic, but then again, so was she. And she hadn’t let that tiny flaw stop her from having
relationships in the past.

“This bathroom is amazing,” she said, glancing around as he turned on the tub, ran his hand under

the stream of water to test the temperature. “It’s so big.”

“I know. The shower is great. Lots of room. I hate tiny showers.” He grabbed a bottle of something

and poured it into the tub. The soothing scent of lavender and vanilla slowly permeated the room, and
she wondered where it came from.

“Then you probably hated the shower at the guest house.” It was a narrow box of a shower, but the

building was old, the tile intricate and rare. Her family hadn’t the heart to tear it all out and redo it.

“It was authentic to the tower, I take it. I can appreciate that.” He bent over again, offering her a

nice view of his spectacular butt as he reached for a towel on the shelf above the tub. “Are you
stripping yet?”

“You’re not watching, so no.” The sassy statement left her before she could think, and she laughed

at the leer he gave her over his shoulder. “Finish your preparations and then I’ll strip for you.”

“Hmm, promise?” She laughed again, and he turned around to face her. “It’s good to hear you

laugh.” His voice softened. “You’ve had a rough time of it today.”

The laughter died, but the pain from earlier had eased. Somewhat. “I have. Thank you for taking my

mind off my troubles.” Being with Gavin like this, talking and arguing, teasing and laughing, helped
her forget.

“I haven’t even started. Not really.” He settled on the tiled edge of the tub, crossed his arms in front

of his chest. He was still in work clothes, navy blue trousers, white dress shirt rolled at the sleeves
and unbuttoned at the neck, tie discarded the moment they arrived at his place. Hair mussed, the
shadow of stubble lined his jaw and deliciously rumpled in that working-man-at-the-end-of-the-day
way.

Arousal curled through her, heady and strong, and she braced her hand on the edge of the sink,

thankful for something there to steady her. “What are your plans for me?”

He let his smoldering gaze trail over her, lingering on her chest, drifting downward slow, slower.

Her skin tightened under his perusal, as if he physically reached out and touched her and she tightened
her grip on the sink. Afraid her weak knees would send her crashing to the floor if she tried to stand
on her own.

“I might shock you,” he finally said, once he’d looked his fill.
Anticipation made her smile. “I like the sound of that.” She liked this suggestively sexy side to

Gavin when it made its appearance. There were many facets to him, each one equally fascinating.
Intriguing.

He pushed away from the tub, approaching her with a predatory grace. “Time to get undressed,

Stasia.”

Without a word she turned, offering her back to him. She wore a dress and needed his help with the

zipper. Remaining silent as well, he slowly slid the zipper down, her back exposed on a whisper. He
grazed her skin with the tips of his fingers, his touch sending a scattering of goose bumps across her
flesh.

A shiver moved through her as he stepped away, though she could still feel his eyes on her. “Take

it off,” he commanded, his voice deceptively gentle.

She did as he demanded without protest, letting the dress fall to her feet, kicking it away so it went

skidding across the sleek tile floor. She wore no shoes, only pale pink panties and a matching bra.
Turning slowly, she faced him, his appreciative gaze making her hold her head up high, her chest

thrust forward. Hard nipples pressed against the lace front of her bra, and he studied them, his lips
parting as if in preparation to taste them.

Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and she fought to ignore it. Decided to instead drive him

crazy with lust, she reached behind her, unhooking the bra and discarding it with a few quick flicks of
her fingers. Pushed her panties past her hips, down her legs, stepping out of them until she stood
completely naked.

Her body was on trembling fire for him but she refused to make the first move. He wanted to give

her a bath, and by God, she was going to get into that bathtub.

Even if it killed her.
He approached her, grasping her by the shoulders and turning her so she faced the almost full tub.

“Get in, baby,” he murmured close to her ear.

She did so, thrilling at the rare term of endearment. He was all business, no fuss, most of the time.

Get him in the bedroom, get the two of them naked, and he was the thoughtful, sexy, caring man she
yearned to know more about. But he kept that part of him shielded. Closed off, only coming out at
moments such as this one.

The water clung to her in a hot embrace and she shivered as she slid in, reveling in the steamy

goodness. Gavin reached over and pressed a button, switching the jets on. The water bubbled and
frothed, tickling her skin and she sank deeper, until the water reached her chin.

“Feel good?” He sat on the edge of the tub and watched her beneath hooded eyes.
She nodded and sighed, closing her eyes. It felt too good. The arousal coursing through her, the way

he looked at her, the water soothing her skin. It was all too delicious, too overwhelming.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” He leaned over her, pressed a sweet kiss to her temple. “And then

I’ll make you feel even better.”

Chapter Fourteen

Gavin arrived in the bathroom a short while later as promised, wearing a pair of black boxer briefs

and nothing else. She watched in awe as he padded across the room toward the tub, his gaze still
hooded, his steps still predatory. Stasia’s gaze dropped to the front of his boxers, noticed the telltale
bulge there.

Her mouth watered. She wanted him. Needed him to make her feel good, take her troubles away,

however briefly. She wanted to forget everything that had happened today. The open hostility in
Hunter’s eyes, how nervous Rhett seemed and how imposing Alex was. No wonder Alex had that
scarily intense reputation in the business. She’d wanted to cry every time he’d set eyes on her, and
he’d been nothing but polite.

Not necessarily positive, but always polite.
Closing her eyes for the briefest moment, she banished all thoughts of her meeting with the Worths.

Concentrated instead on Gavin again sitting on the edge of the tub as he turned off the whirlpool jets,
then pulled the plug so the water started to drain. Standing, he held out a towel to her, encouraging her
with a nod to come to him.

She did so, the water cascading down her naked body in long streams. Keeping her gaze locked on

his, she stepped out of the tub and into the towel. He carefully wrapped it around her wet body like an
embrace.

“Want me to dry you off?” The question held a suggestive tone and she smiled.
“Only if you promise to keep me wet where it counts.”
He chuckled. “I promise.”
She smiled. “Then yes, please dry me off.”
She stood still on the thick rug, savoring how Gavin rubbed her with the towel, his grip firm, his

touch sensual. He moved down her body, over her breasts, along her stomach, crouching before her so
he could dry her legs. She closed her eyes as he dried the back of her legs, her backside, her belly
again…

The soft press of his mouth against her hipbone startled her eyes open, and she gazed down at him,

watched in silent wonder as he slid his mouth in a meandering path across her belly. He’d discarded
the towel, his hands skimming up and down her legs, going higher, spreading her thighs the slightest
bit just as his mouth hovered over her sex.

“Let me taste you,” he murmured against her flesh, waiting for her permission to continue.
A strangled sound escaped her, and she jerked her head yes. Without hesitation, he slipped his

tongue between her legs, sampling her, teasing her clitoris, circling it in a delightful motion that had
her quivering where she stood.

She was primed from his wicked mouth, already hanging on the edge of orgasm. When he slipped

one finger, then two inside her, pumping deep again and again, his lips latched onto her clit, tongue
teasing the swollen bit of flesh, she lost all control and came with a sob.

Wave after delicious wave washed over her body, consuming her. She set her hand on top of his

head to steady herself, overwhelmed by the quivery sensations the climax brought her. He gentled his
mouth on her sensitive skin, slipped his fingers from within her body and stood, reaching for her.
Cradling her face in his hands, he tilted her head back for his kiss, his mouth softly seeking.

Stasia opened to him, tasted herself on his lips and tongue. She grabbed hold of his shoulders,

tugging him close so their bodies collided. He growled against her mouth and hauled her into his

arms, carrying her out of the bathroom toward the giant bed that dominated his bedroom.

He deposited her on the bed and followed after her, positioning himself so he was above her, his

hips cradled between her legs, his cotton-covered erection brushing against her center. She slid her
hands down his chest, marveling anew at the hard muscle and sinew, the faint bit of hair that grew
between his pectorals. He was beautifully built, all restrained power and strength. A buzz jolted
through her when he reached for her, his fingers curled about one breast, his thumb brushing across
her nipple back and forth.

She fell back against the bed with a moan of submission and closed her eyes. Allowed to be swept

away by his touch, his nearness, oh, and his soft, soft lips. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to her
neck, his tongue sneaking out to lick, tease. Taste.

Tantalize.
“I want to help you forget everything,” he murmured close to her ear just before he sank his teeth

into her flesh. “Everything they said, everything they did.”

She shivered and gasped, wound her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “Yes, Gavin. I need

that.”

He lifted away from her. “Open your eyes.”
She lifted her lids, found him watching her, a fierce gleam in his eyes. “Why?” She was breathless,

more than ready to be consumed by him once again. He knew exactly what she wanted, what she
needed and she appreciated that. More than he would ever know.

“Look at me.” His gaze never left her as he struggled out of his underwear, which made her smile.

He was sweet and sexy, demanding and in control. A combination she found intoxicating. “You’ll get
what you want. You have to believe in that.”

More than anything, at this very moment, she wanted him. Only him. “Gavin…”
“I believe in you.” He pulled away from her, grabbed a condom from the bedside table and

sheathed himself, his gaze locked with hers. “Don’t let them get you down.”

She wrinkled her brow. “Are you giving me a pep talk in the middle of sex?”
Gavin smiled, looking embarrassed. “Maybe.”
Her heart cracked. She wasn’t supposed to let her heart get involved in this, but it was too late.

And despite how macho and gruff he tried to be, he really was sweet. Endearing.

“Come here,” she whispered.
He bent his head, his mouth brushing hers, and she opened to him, wanting his invasion, her tongue

sneaking out to meet his. The kiss turned instantly hot, carnal, and she pulled him close, spreading her
legs, eagerly waiting for his cock to slip inside her body.

And when he did, it felt as if he belonged there. Forever.

Damn, she felt amazing, all velvety tight hotness gripping his cock like a fist. Gavin paused his

shallow thrusts, sweat beading his brow, that familiar tingling at the base of his spine threatening to
take him straight into orgasm.

It was too soon, he wasn’t ready, and Stasia was most definitely not ready. He needed to prolong

this, make it perfect for both of them, because damn it, he wanted to take care of her.

Hell. He cared for her. Far too much. His runaway emotions were venturing into a territory that

scared him, but he was doing it anyway. Blithely ignoring the warning bells clanging in his head
because he never did this, never allowed himself to become too close to a woman, to actually feel
something for her.

Stasia made him feel too much. He literally ached for her, wanted to nurture her, make sure she was

okay. He wanted her to feel safe when she was with him. But how did he tell her? He had no problem
showing her, but letting the words fall from his lips? That was a whole different category altogether.

“Gavin.” Her sultry-sweet voice pushed him from his thoughts, and he focused on her pretty face.

The dreamy smile curving her lush mouth, the hazy glow in her eyes, her flushed, shimmering skin.
Christ, she was beautiful. “Are you all right?”

She was the damaged one, and she asked if he was all right? He must be doing something wrong.

Instead of answering, he kissed her. Took the kiss as deep as he could, thrusting within her velvet
depths just as deep. Wanting so far inside her he wanted to be consumed by her. She moved with him,
both of them straining and when she whispered she was close, his movements became frenzied. Out of
control.

Sending them both into complete oblivion.

He held her close, his arm slung around her shoulders, her head nestled beneath his jaw, cheek

pressed to his chest. She drew her index finger across his chest lazily, their harmonious, labored
breaths calming with each second that ticked past.

There were no words for what they’d just experienced together. There was sex and then there

was…that. So completely far and above the normal sexual interlude, it belonged in a different
stratosphere.

Yeah, he was gone for her. Which was crazy, but he was tired of fighting it. Knew it was

ridiculous, because first, she was his client, and second, they hardly knew each other.

But he couldn’t deny it. They’d grown close in a short amount of time, and if he had his way, they’d

grow closer. He wasn’t ready to let her go.

Squeezing her close, he kissed the top of her head, breathing in the subtle floral fragrance of her

shampoo. None of his worries mattered. He cared for this woman. If they continued on this path, he’d
no doubt fall in love with her. Whereas before that thought would’ve scared the shit out of him,
now…

Now he embraced it. Wanted it, even.
Gavin kissed her again, too overwhelmed to speak. Afraid he might say something stupid and botch

the entire evening. She snuggled into him, a contented sigh escaping her and at this one single moment,
all felt right in his world.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said. About my brothers.”
Stasia’s sweet voice startled him from his thoughts. “What about them?”
“Maybe I should forget about the Worths and go back to Italy,” she murmured against his chest.
His perfect world crashed into burning pieces. “You don’t mean that, do you?” he asked warily.
She glanced up at him, her thick wavy hair in disarray, painfully beautiful in the aftermath of their

explosive moment. “I’m not wanted here. Clearly. I can go back to the villa, nurse my wounds and
figure out a new plan.”

“You mean give up.” He couldn’t believe she was saying this.
Stasia arched a delicate brow. “I’m not giving up. More like…taking a step back and reassessing

my plan.”

He couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving. What if she never came back? “Don’t let them get the

best of you. You already took the DNA test. The results will be back in two weeks, tops. You should
stay here and try to approach the Worths again.”

“No thank you.” She sighed bitterly and shook her head. “I’m not a glutton for punishment.”

“I bet Rhett would be open to seeing you again,” he suggested.
“This from the man who discouraged me from talking to Rhett at a cocktail party.” She pulled away

from him and laid flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I need to get away and clear my head for
a bit. Alone.”

Alone.

Fuck. That single word hurt more than he’d believed it could. “Your mother is still at the

villa, right?”

“She’s too busy wallowing in her own misery to bother me. Besides, it might be good to spend

more time with her and try to heal these wounds between us, like you suggested.” She nibbled on her
lower lip, her face screwed up in concentration. “I need to get away, Gavin. I hope you understand.”

He hated that she threw his words back at him. She was right, she did need to heal the rift between

them, but she couldn’t leave yet. Couldn’t just…give up.

Was he being selfish, thinking like that? Thinking only of himself?
“I don’t understand.” He climbed out of bed, rested his hands on his hips as he glared at her. He

couldn’t give a shit if he was naked or not—he was pissed. “You’re running away, Stasia. I want you
to reconnect with your family, but you need to take care of things here first.”

“I’m not running away.” She sat up and glared right back at him.
“Looks like you are to me.”
“Listen, you don’t know what this is like. How it feels. They hate me, Gavin. They will do

everything they can to keep me from infringing on their family money. If they reject me, the media will
grab hold of this and spread it everywhere. I’ll look the total fool.” She climbed out of bed, taking the
sheet with her as she headed toward the bathroom.

“I know what it’s like to feel alone. To feel like no one wants you, that you’re worthless,” he said

softly.

Her eyes dimmed. “I know you had a rough childhood. I have no right to complain when really my

plight is so superficial.”

“I never said that.” Irritation flowed through him, making his head pound. “I can’t prevent what’s

already been said, but if that happens, I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.” He grabbed her by the
shoulders, stopping her from going into the bathroom. “Don’t run away, Stasia. You’re better than
that.”

She jerked out of his grip. “Please, don’t patronize me. You can’t protect me from any of this. I

can’t deal with my problems here any longer. I feel like I’m spinning my wheels. I just want to go
home.”

“I promise it will all turn out in your favor.” He had no idea if it would, but he was grasping at any

reason to keep her here versus watching her vanish from his life. “Isn’t my word good enough?”

Her expression was pained and she shook her head. “Not really. I took everyone at their word my

entire life, and look where it got me.” She threw up one arm and went into the bathroom.

He slipped on a pair of jeans, then paced the floor, waiting for her to come out, and when she did,

he stopped short.

In less than two minutes she was fully dressed and looking ready to bolt.
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving.”
Pushing past him, she exited the bedroom, calling over her shoulder. “Fine. I’m not leaving.”
He chased after her—and he never chased after women—grabbing her by the crook of her arm and

stopping her in the middle of the living room. “What the hell happened? Why are you in such a hurry
to get out of here?”

“This feels like too much,” she blurted, pressing her lips together as if she could stop the words

that already came out. “I’m not comfortable with our—situation.”

“Because I’m your attorney.” He could relate—what they shared did feel like too much. But he

didn’t want to run away from it.

“Exactly.” She averted her gaze, her voice weak. “It’s not right. We shouldn’t be sleeping

together.” She sounded all prim and proper, not at all like herself. He wondered if she was telling the
truth. Not like he could call her out and accuse her of lying. That would only piss her off further.

“I’ll find you another attorney. Someone else from my office, someone I trust. We can work

together on your case,” he suggested. Panic flooded his veins. He didn’t want her to leave. Had the
distinct feeling if he let her walk out that door, he might never see her again.

She sighed. “I don’t think I have a case any longer. It’s pointless to pursue it.”
“Why the hell would you say that?”
“Because they hate me no matter what!” She appeared shocked by her outburst.
“Then it shouldn’t matter. Pursue it all you want. It won’t matter how they feel about you.”
“I care what they feel about me. I care too damn much.” She brushed a hand through her hair, that

vulnerable expression that got to him every time he saw it flashing across her face for the briefest
moment. “I want to make nice with them, not make enemies. Maybe chasing after them with an
attorney by my side isn’t the right way to do this.”

“They’ll chew you up and spit you out if you go at them alone.”
“You said they were kind, especially Alex.” She looked away. Looked anywhere but at him. “I

don’t want to talk about this. I’m leaving for Italy, hopefully tomorrow. I’m going to book a flight
tonight.”

“You’re making a mistake.” He grabbed hold of her one more time, wishing like hell he could

convince her to stay. But something wasn’t right. She wasn’t listening, wasn’t open to his suggestions
at all. She’d shut down, shut him off and he didn’t understand why. “Leaving the country won’t help
you escape your problems. They’ll be waiting for you when you return.”

She lifted her chin, defiantly beautiful. “Maybe I won’t return. There’s nothing here for me. At least

in Italy I have my mother. And my brothers are there more often than not.”

They remained silent, staring at one another. He couldn’t believe she was acting like this. “What

about—us?” He hated that he asked. But he had to know.

“There is no us.” She extracted herself from his grip, her lower lip trembling the slightest bit.

“There never was. Not really.”

He winced. Her words were like a physical blow, brutally painful. “I don’t understand why you’re

doing this. You act like you’re the only one who’s ever been hurt. Did you ever consider I’ve been
hurt too?” It took everything inside of him to keep his voice calm, level. What she was doing, what
she said, slashed at him like a knife. Finally he’d opened himself up, let himself be vulnerable and she
did this.

What hurt more? She didn’t bother to respond.

Fuck.

He was in a world of pain and he didn’t even fully know it yet. “Don’t think I’ll be waiting for

you when you come back. If you can so effectively cut me off without a care, then I can cut you off
too.” He sounded like a big baby, but damn it, he was hurting.

She smiled shakily, sadness veiling her gaze. “That’s what everyone else has done to me anyway. I

wouldn’t expect any less.”

The front door closed behind her before he could think. Gone. Just like that. No chance to explain,

no chance to try and keep her. Just a ‘goodbye, I don’t need you, screw you asshole’ exit.

“Shit.” He picked up a vase, threw it at the wall, watched as it shattered in hundreds of pieces, bits

of glass raining all over the bare floor. He thought it would give him a hint of satisfaction at the very
least, throwing that useless thing and watching it break, but instead he felt empty.

Alone.

Chapter Fifteen

Two weeks later

The warm, fragrant breeze that blew off the Mediterranean Sea soothed Stasia’s frazzled nerves,

eased her overactive mind. She tilted her head back and let the air sweep over her face. She sat out on
the villa patio that overlooked the ocean, giant sunglasses covering her swollen, red-rimmed eyes, not
wanting anyone to notice. Renzo had fretted over her since she arrived and she didn’t want to worry
him further.

She’d received the call not even an hour ago. The DNA results were in—she was a Worth. There

was absolutely no doubt. The long, sometimes lonely, mostly infuriating fight she’d gone through since
the death of Giorgio Renaldi had resulted exactly how she thought it would. She should feel
victorious.

Instead, she’d hung up and promptly burst into tears. After weeping in her bedroom for a solid

fifteen minutes, she’d finally composed herself and came outside, hoping the pleasant weather would
ease the ache in her heart.

It hadn’t. She was beginning to think nothing could—with the exception of a certain man she’d

walked away from without a backward glance.

“Stasia, are you all right?”
A sigh escaped her. She’d hoped for a reprieve for a little longer but it appeared her time was up.

“I’m fine, Mama. Where did you go?” Opening her eyes, she studied her mother as Claudia came
toward her and sat at the glass and iron table across from Stasia.

Her mama looked much better than the last time they were together. She’d gained some weight,

though she was still thin, and those telling dark circles under her eyes weren’t as prominent as they
once were.

“I went down to the beach and took a walk. I would’ve asked you to come with me but I—wanted

some time alone.” Claudia took a deep breath, exhaling loudly as if she needed to gather courage.
“You look so sad, my darling. Tell me what’s bothering you. And don’t say ‘nothing’. I won’t believe
you.”

Stasia pressed her lips together, decided it was best not to beat around the bush. “I received the

DNA results.”

The look of shock on her mother’s face was unmistakable. Her eyes going wide, she gaped at

Stasia for a long, silent moment until she finally asked, “And you’re upset? Don’t—don’t tell me they
came back negative. Because that would be a lie and I swear to you…”

“They came back positive,” Stasia interrupted, not wanting to upset her further. “It’s confirmed.

Michael Worth was my father.”

Her mother fell back against her chair as if she’d been pushed, her shoulders sagging, her relief

palpable. “Then why do you seem so down?”

Stasia shrugged, confusion filling her. “I don’t know.” She knew, just didn’t want to admit it,

especially to her mother.

She missed Gavin. She missed New York. How she wished she were back there, that they could

share in this bit of positive news together. He would help her create a plan so they could go to the
Worths and eventually work it all out. He knew how to make everything easier. Took some of that
burden she carried on her shoulders and shared it with her. She hadn’t realized it until now, but he’d
been her partner.

And she’d turned him away. No, she’d run away, just as he’d accused.
So instead she was in Italy with her mama, unsure of what to do next. Scared she’d made the

biggest mistake of her life and let Gavin slip away from her completely.

“You miss Gavin,” her mother said simply, as if she were a mind reader.
“No, I don’t.” Stasia shook her head, angry that she denied her true feelings so quickly. She’d

confessed all to her mother upon her return to Italy. Telling Claudia that Gavin had been her attorney,
not her boyfriend, though she’d also admitted they’d crossed the line into a personal relationship. And
that she’d left him to come back here and figure out what she needed to do next.

Her mother hadn’t judged, hadn’t told her what to do. Had merely sat there and listened, offered

comfort when Stasia had started to cry. She’d needed that from her. Comfort. Reassurance. They’d
become so distant since her father’s death.

“Really?” The doubt in her mother’s voice was heavy.
Since Stasia had returned to Italy, they’d somewhat reconciled, though emotions were still fragile

between them. “Fine, I do miss him,” Stasia confessed morosely.

Claudia smiled. “Of course, you do. It’s written all over your pretty face. You’re lovesick.”
“I am most definitely not lovesick. I don’t love him. I…” Did she love Gavin? She wasn’t sure.

“This isn’t about Gavin. I need to focus on what I must do next.”

“Why do you need to do anything? You’ve been validated as a Worth. Now they have to accept

you.”

“They don’t have to, you know. And I’m still unsure what’s going on with Renaldi. Where my place

is within the company, if I even have a place.” Stasia shook her head, cast her gaze out toward the sea
once more. Foolishly she wished for a simpler time, when she was younger and had not a care in the
world.

But those times were long ago and she’d never get them back, no matter how hard she wished for

them.

“Vincenzo was here just yesterday promising you will most definitely have a position at Renaldi.

Don’t doubt your brothers, cara. They will do anything they can to ensure you will be back within the
fold and soon,” her mother said vehemently.

Stasia knew her mother was right. It had been wonderful, spending time with her brother. Vincenzo

had stayed the night before leaving early this morning for business, his handsome face serious as he’d
swore to her over dinner they were doing everything in their power to bring her back to Renaldi. They
were close, he’d said. Matteo and the lawyers believed they’d found a way to get around the wording
of the will so Stasia could take on her position in the company once again.

The more she thought about it, though, the more she wondered if that was what she really wanted.

She’d contemplated branching out before her father’s death. Designing her own jewelry, becoming
independent from the main accessory line, though she would’ve still been a part of the Renaldi brand.

After they’d worked so hard, though, she couldn’t tell her brothers she wasn’t interested. And what

of the Worths? Would she find a place within their family? How would they feel once they knew she
had the same blood running through their veins? Would they finally accept her? Either way, she was
scared of the unknown.

God, she needed Gavin. More than she cared to admit.
“I do appreciate everything Matt, Rafe and Vince are doing for me, but there is still unfinished

business I left in New York,” Stasia said quietly.

Claudia’s expression hardened. “Why go there and face certain humility? Haven’t they done enough

to turn you away? Why subject yourself to more?”

Stasia stood, glaring at her mother in disbelief. “It’s not about them turning me away. How do you

expect them to feel? They didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe you. It’s hard for them to
comprehend the entire situation.” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “I have to go back
eventually, Mama.”

Her mother stood as well and rushed toward her, drawing her into a clumsy embrace. “I don’t want

you to leave me. I don’t want you mad at me, Stasia. We must stand together, you and I. I refuse to let
this rip us apart again.”

“It won’t rip us apart again, I promise. We still need to heal. And I can’t stay here with you

forever, Mama. No matter how much I want to hide away and not face the world.” Stasia’s heart was
breaking. For both herself and her mother, for their entire family. She wanted to forgive the man she
thought of as her father but it was so hard. “You can’t hide here either. Come back to New York with
me. Be my support while I deal with my—my other family.”

Claudia shook her head, panic in her eyes. “I don’t think I can.”
“Please? I need you,” Stasia admitted, pressing her lips together. Tears threatened and she pulled

her sunglasses off, swiped at her eyes with trembling fingers. “I’ll need your support before I face
them.”

“Must you face them? Is it necessary?”
Yes, it was necessary to her. The Worths might not want to see her but she had to try one more

time. Tears sliding down her cheeks, she nodded. “I have to. They’re my brothers too, Mama. Family
is important to me. Th—they are important to me, even if they hate me.”

Her mother’s face crumpling, she went to Stasia and drew her into her arms. “There, there, don’t

cry, my lovely girl. They couldn’t hate you. They’ll love you, just like I do. Just like your brothers
here do.” Claudia hugged her so tight Stasia felt as if she couldn’t breathe. “I’ll go with you. How
could I not?”

Relief flooding her, Stasia wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, her familiar scent a

comfort she’d missed greatly. “Thank you, Mama. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Yes, yes I think I do know.”

“Stasia, it’s good to see you. I’m so glad you could come tonight.”
Stasia stepped inside the tall foyer, her gaze soaring upward. A spectacular pendant light the size

of her entire body hung from the two-story ceiling, bathing the entry with a pleasant golden glow.
“Thank you so much for inviting me, Gabriella.”

Rhett Worth’s girlfriend hugged her close, her embrace warm and friendly, conveying so much with

that one gesture.

Stasia closed her eyes hard, warding off the sudden tears. She wanted to cry after a mere hug,

which meant she was in desperate need of reassurance.

And meaningful affection, something she’d been lacking for weeks despite being with her mother.

She missed Gavin.

“Everyone else is waiting in the den. Come with me.” Ella took Stasia’s hand and led her through

the apartment she shared with Rhett.

Stasia looked around, taking everything in. The place was gorgeous, the colors dark yet warm, the

rooms spectacularly large but somehow cozy and welcoming. She saw traces of the bachelor pad it
must’ve once been. The giant flat screen TV which hung on the wall, accompanied by an outrageous
collection of DVDs in the large entertainment center that framed either side of the television.

Feminine touches mingled with the masculine. Framed photos of family members were scattered

throughout or hung on the walls, one picture touching Stasia in particular. The photo was large, at
least eleven by fourteen in size. It was of Rhett and Ella on stretched canvas, no frame distracting
from the picture. Ella was smiling at the camera, her face full of joy and laughter.

But Rhett was looking at Ella, his expression one of so much love, it made Stasia’s throat ache.
“That photo embarrasses Rhett,” Ella said, her voice low, when Stasia stopped to study it.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the joyous couple. It was so evident, how much they felt for

each other. How much he felt for Ella. An unwanted sensation of jealousy threatened, but she pushed
it away. “Why?”

“The fact that the photographer caught him looking at me like that. He was mortified the first time

he saw the picture, I saw it written all over his face. He’d never admit it, but I know.” Ella smiled,
her gaze soft. “He looks vulnerable and he hates that. You know how macho men are.”

Stasia rolled her eyes, thinking of her very macho Italian brothers. “Oh yes, I know exactly what

you’re talking about.”

Laughing a little, Ella met her gaze. “Rhett loves to bluster around and act like a badass, but I know

the real Rhett. This photo is him to a T. It represents the man I see every morning when I wake up and
every night when I go to sleep. So I told him it was going on the wall. He had no choice in the
matter.”

“I love it,” Stasia said with utter sincerity. She wished she had a man who looked at her like that.

Like she was his everything.

If she’d given Gavin much of a chance she might’ve had that with him.
“Come on.” Ella led her deeper into the apartment, arriving within a room that was small, the walls

lined with shelves filled with books, two overstuffed dark blue velvet couches facing each other, a
woman sitting on each couch.

“Ladies, this is Anastasia Renaldi,” Ella announced with pride.
The two women stood, both of them smiling, both of them walking toward her with open, friendly

faces. Stasia braced herself, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for them to say something
spiteful or mean, but it didn’t happen. The complete opposite happened.

“Oh, it’s so wonderful to meet you. I’m Tessa.” The woman wrapped Stasia in such a close

embrace she was sure she’d smell like Tessa’s perfume for the rest of the night. Not that it was a bad
thing—the woman smelled fabulous. “Alex’s wife.”

Stasia stared at her openly. She’d thought Alex would have chosen a more refined, polished woman

as his wife. Someone tall, thin, with pale blonde hair and icy blue eyes, the typical society wife who
only wore couture and a twenty-carat diamond ring.

Tessa was in jeans and a soft black sweater, a simple gold band circling her finger. She was

voluptuous, with full breasts and hips, and her dark hair was pulled back from her face, wild wisps
falling freely about her face.

In fact, if Stasia wasn’t seeing things, she swore there was a stain on the front of Tessa’s sweater…
Tessa glanced down at the stain Stasia stared pointedly at. “I’m a mess, I know.” She sighed.

“Breast feeding around the clock does that to a woman.”

“Oh.” Stasia felt about two inches tall. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare…”
“It was either the stain or the giganticness that are my breasts.” Tessa laughed and waved a hand.

“If they get any bigger, I’ll have breast reduction surgery.”

“Alex would never let you.” Ella smirked.
Tessa swatted Ella’s arm lightly. “You’re right, he wouldn’t.”

The other woman approached. She was tall, more fashionably turned out, her gaze direct, curious

as she studied Stasia. She held out her hand, a cool smile curving her lips. “I’m Gracie Worth.”

God. Hunter’s wife. Stasia stuck her hand out as well, prepared to shake when Tessa shoved

Gracie closer to Stasia. “Give her a hug,” Tessa urged. “She’s your sister now.”

“Sister-in-law,” Stasia added feebly as she and Gracie quickly hugged. “I guess.”
“We’re all sisters here, if not by blood, by name, at least.” Tessa sent a glance in Ella’s direction.

“Well not quite since Rhett hasn’t officially made Gabriella a Worth, but we’re working on him.”

“Don’t pressure him,” Ella admonished. “He works at his own pace.”
“I’ll say.” Gracie smiled, patted Stasia on the shoulder. “It’s so good to meet you.”
Stasia felt like she was in a daze, shocked by their good nature, their easy acceptance of her. She

never, ever thought in a million years she would be so welcome in the Worth family.

Well, by the Worth women. The men still hadn’t ponied up. Stasia had received the positive DNA

results a week ago. She’d come back to New York immediately, her mother at her side.

But now what? What was she supposed to do?
“Let’s sit and drink wine,” Ella suggested. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Stasia sat amongst the group of women, in awe of their easy camaraderie, how much they laughed

and joked with each other. She was used to men. Growing up with three boisterous brothers did that
to a woman. Believing she’d have a handle on the Worth brothers since she knew what it was like,
she thought it would be easy to approach them. Easy to get them to like her, accept her.

She hadn’t counted on their women reaching out to her. But they had. Before the brothers had, even.
“So what are you going to do now?” Tessa asked.
Accepting the glass of wine from Ella, Stasia studied Tessa. “What am I going to do?” She sipped

her wine, stalling. She didn’t know how to answer.

“Yes, now that you’re back in New York. Are you going to stay? I know you were living here

before your…father’s death.” Tessa waved a hand at Stasia’s curious look. “I did research, don’t tell
me you haven’t conducted any on us, because I wouldn’t believe you. Google is our friend, after all.”

“And Tessa is good at digging for information,” Gracie added wryly, sitting next to Stasia on the

couch. “It’s one of her greatest skills.”

“I’m, um…I’m not sure,” she stuttered, feeling suddenly gauche, surrounded by these women.

Confident businesswoman and budding jewelry designer Anastasia Renaldi felt like a crude little girl
compared to them.

They had it so together, their lives, their purpose. With their men by their side, two of the three

were mothers of beautiful children. They were happy, confident in their choices.

Whereas Stasia felt like she was floating on an endless sea, lost and searching for land. Searching

for home.

“Well, besides our wanting to get to know you, since you are a part of the Worth family now, there

is a reason I invited you this evening,” Ella said, sitting next to Tessa so that she faced Stasia and
Gracie. “They’re ready to meet with you.”

Stasia frowned. “Who?”
“Why, Rhett, Hunter and Alex, of course.” Ella smiled, the picture of serenity. “We convinced them

they’re being ridiculous, trying to avoid you.”

Stasia’s suspicions were correct. They were avoiding her. It hurt to realize, but at least she’d found

out the truth.

“Alex wants to talk to you. Desperately,” Tessa added. “He asked that I schedule something,

perhaps early next week, if your schedule permits. He can’t quite let go of the fact that I was once his

assistant.”

Stasia’s jaw dropped open. “You’re kidding.”
Tessa shook her head. “I’m not. Actually, all three of us started out as employees of Worth.”
“And then went on to indulge in improper relationships with our boss,” Ella said chirpily.
Stasia turned to Gracie. “Even you?”
Gracie slowly nodded, set her wineglass on the coffee table in front of her. “Even me. Hunter was

my boss. We worked in the marketing department together. I fought him tooth and nail the entire time
he pursued me.”

“Wow,” Stasia murmured, digesting what they said. Her thoughts turned to Gavin. How she’d told

them their relationship was inappropriate. How she pushed him away because of it.

But deep down inside, she knew that hadn’t been the real reason, more like the perfect excuse.

She’d grown too scared, afraid she’d become dependent on him and fall apart when he left. And he
would’ve left.

Almost a month ago, those were her irrational fears. It had felt like everyone abandoned her. Not

Gavin, though.

She’d abandoned him first.
“Do you have a special someone in your life, Anastasia?” Ella asked.
“Um…no.” Stasia shook her head, wondering if they could read minds. “And please. Call me

Stasia.”

“Are you sure you’re being honest with us? You were a little too hesitant with that answer,” Ella

teased.

“Leave her alone.” Tessa nudged Ella in the side with her elbow. “Maybe she doesn’t want to talk

about him.”

Stasia sighed. “Am I that obvious?”
“Yes, you are,” Gracie murmured.
They were far too observant—and intuitive. Taking a big swallow of wine, she set the glass on the

coffee table. Cleared her throat. Gathered her courage. “There was a certain someone, but it didn’t
last long. And the…relationship wasn’t under the best of circumstances.”

“That’s too bad.” Tessa tsked sympathetically. “Did you split up before your father died or after?”
“If it was after, the guy must be a complete asshole, leaving you like that,” Gracie said viciously.
Stasia found that comment particularly amusing. After all, she found Gracie’s husband to be a

complete asshole.

“It was after my father died, but we didn’t know each other prior. It was a very short—thing,”

Stasia finished lamely.

“Oh, dear.” Ella’s quiet voice broke the silence. “Was it more of an ‘I’m turning to him in need of

comfort’ sort of thing?”

“Probably.” Stasia drained her wineglass, set it on the table again with a loud clink. “I don’t know.

I didn’t like him at first. I fought the attraction.”

“Sounds familiar,” Gracie said dryly.
“He pursued you, then,” Tessa said.
“We pursued each other.” They’d jumped each other that first night at the villa. It had been so

strange yet exhilarating. The attraction had been brewing from the moment they first met. She’d denied
it for as long as possible. “And then I ended it.”

“Because you didn’t want to get hurt by him first,” Gracie added, earning a shocked look from

Stasia. Gracie shrugged. “I know what that’s like. Trust me.”

Stasia studied each woman. Their faces were open, sympathetic, not judgmental. They could relate

to her predicament. And it felt…good. So good. “Well, it wasn’t meant to be, so I’ll leave it at that.”

“Hmm.” Tessa sat up straighter, her gaze sharpening. “If that’s the attitude you’re taking, then we’ll

support you no matter what.”

“Really?” Stasia’s voice squeaked and she cleared her throat, embarrassed.
“Really,” Ella said softly, her eyes glowing.
“Let’s change the subject.” Tessa was clearly in charge. Probably came with the territory of being

married to the oldest Worth brother. “In regards to meeting with the boys, I have good news.”

Stasia liked how she called the Worth brothers “the boys”. “What is it?”
“Whereas before they always protested and wanted attorneys present at all times, Alex has deemed

lawyers unnecessary for this particular meeting.” Tessa clasped her hands together. “Instead of
meeting in a boardroom full of legal discussions, they’d like to get together for a meal. Lunch, if it’s
possible. And no lawyers allowed.”

It was what she’d dreamed of. What she’d hoped for since the moment she discovered she could

potentially be a Worth. Why was she so disappointed, then? “That’s great,” she said weakly. “Not
like my lawyer could make it anyway. He doesn’t represent me any longer.”

Ella snapped her fingers, the sound so loud, Stasia jumped. “It was your lawyer, wasn’t it?”
Stasia froze. She knew what Ella referred to. How in the world did she figure that out so quickly?

“My lawyer?”

“Is he the one you were with romantically?” Ella’s razor-sharp gaze had Stasia gnashing her lower

lip.

“Uh…” Stasia didn’t know how to answer.
“We saw you with him, you know. One night at some boring cocktail party, we were lurking in the

corner. Rhett was plotting a way to sneak out of there early and we saw you with a man. He became
nervous, worried you’d want to talk to him again. Not that he’s afraid of you or anything, but when it’s
something that serious, he doesn’t like being the one to handle it. He’d rather hand that over to Alex or
even Hunter.”

So Rhett had seen her and wanted to avoid her. Not that she could blame him. She’d been

completely crazed at that moment. Desperate to talk to someone, to get the answers she so desperately
wanted to hear.

“Rhett then told me later the same man we saw you with that night was the attorney who

represented you at that first meeting you all had.” Ella’s gaze met hers, filled with kindness and
understanding. “It was him, wasn’t it?”

“It’s okay.” Gracie reached over and patted her arm awkwardly. “Looks like we’ve all had our

inappropriate relationships with men we work with. You’re now a full-fledged member of our club.”

Stasia should feel terrible. Guilty for what she’d done with Gavin. But instead, she felt…relieved.

So relieved to confess her so-called sins, happy that these three women didn’t judge, didn’t seem to
care. That they could actually relate to her predicament.

For the first time in a long time, Stasia felt like she belonged.
“That’s a good one, Gracie. We should definitely form a club,” Tessa said with an eager nod.
“I don’t quite fit in, though,” Gracie pointed out with a smirk. “You all have names that end with an

‘a’ sound and I don’t.”

“Huh. True.” Ella pointed at Gracie. “You can be the head of the club, then.”
They all laughed again, Ella bouncing up off the couch and announcing she was going to grab

appetizers she’d prepared earlier for their evening before she hurried out of the room.

The women grew quiet, Stasia contemplative, mulling over everything they revealed. Maybe it had

been a mistake, leaving Gavin like she had…

She frowned. It had most definitely been a mistake. How rude her abrupt rejection of him had been,

especially after they’d made love. That had been part of the problem as well. She’d felt so close to
him, so connected, halfway in love with him, really.

And that had scared her to bits.
“You do remind me of my husband,” Gracie said out of nowhere, her quiet voice startling Stasia

from her thoughts. “He grudgingly admitted a few nights ago that you looked like him.”

Stasia smiled at Gracie. She liked her, felt she had the most in common with her out of the three

women, though they were all wonderfully friendly and accepting. “I can grudgingly admit I look like
him too.”

Gracie laughed. “He’s not so bad, my husband. Beneath the slick attitude and sometimes gruff

exterior, he really is a sweetheart.”

“To you, I’m sure.” Stasia sighed. “He was so awful to me in that meeting.”
“He is very protective of his family, bottom line. He will do anything, and I mean anything, to

protect the family name.” Gracie paused. “He thought Tessa was a company spy selling ideas to the
competition and treated her terribly.”

Tessa, who overheard them, nodded in agreement. “It’s true. He made me cry. More than once.”
“He made me cry too,” Stasia murmured, gazing downward. If she thought about it too much, she

might start crying again.

“And now he adores Tessa. She adores him too…I think.” Gracie winked and Tessa smirked in

return.

“I do. I understand his gruff side. It’s just…his way. Alex is the same. The only exception is Rhett.

He’s a sweetheart. Protective but so charming you’d never realize he’s being an asshole.”

“Oh, trust me. He can be an ass,” Ella said as she came back into the room, carrying a platter of a

variety of appetizers. “I’ve dealt with my fair share of Rhett’s jerk side.”

“But you still love him,” Stasia said, reaching for a stuffed olive the moment Ella set the tray on the

coffee table. “Despite his faults.”

“Of course. And I have plenty of faults. I’m not perfect.”
“None of us are,” Tessa added.
Stasia ate quietly, absorbing everything they’d said. No one was perfect, least of all her. So why

had she been so hard on herself, her family? On Gavin?

She missed him. They’d known each other for such a short time yet he’d somehow wound himself

tightly inside her life. Made her long for things she no longer had, such as him. She wondered how he
was.

Wondered if he’d ever see her again…

The call had come into his office unexpectedly on an otherwise boring Thursday afternoon, the

sound of Alex’s voice reminding Gavin of Stasia. Not that he needed a reminder of the woman who
stomped all over his heart and left him.

“I’m meeting with your client this weekend, but I don’t think I want you there.” Alex chuckled,

sounding rather amused with himself. “I can’t deny the DNA test. Anastasia is definitely a Worth.”

Gavin stiffened, tapping the edge of his desk with impatient fingers. He really didn’t want to talk

about this, about Stasia. She was a wound that hadn’t healed. “She’s not my client any longer.”

“Really? Well, that’s surprising. And fast.”
“She fired me.”
Alex blew out a breath. “Harsh.”
“I’m surprised you’re meeting her so soon. The three of you were rather hostile when we last saw

you,” Gavin said, wanting information. His curiosity got the best of him though he knew it was
pointless.

He wasn’t going to see her again. Learning more about her would only hurt later.
“Once we heard of the DNA results, we knew we had to act. Besides, the women love her.”
“The women?”
“My wife, Hunter’s wife and Rhett’s girlfriend. They met with Stasia a few nights ago. Said she fits

right in,” Alex explained.

She was back in town? And she hadn’t tried to reach him once? That hurt more than he cared to

admit.

“So she fits right in with the family, hmm?” Gavin asked, trying to sound nonchalant. His heart rate

picked up and he thumbed through his cell, stopping at Stasia’s number.

No way could he call her first. Could he?
“It appears so.”
No surprise. Everyone loved Stasia if they just gave her a chance.
Including him, not that he’d ever admit that to a soul.
“That’s great. I’m happy she’s found her spot in your family,” he gritted out between his teeth.
Alex laughed, the jackass. “You don’t sound happy. You sound freaking miserable. Work stressing

you out?”

“You could say that.” Gavin was leaving the office the second this conversation was over. He

needed to get out and clear his head.

“I get it.” Alex paused for a moment too long and, for whatever reason, it made Gavin nervous. “I

wasn’t supposed to say anything. Tessa swore me to secrecy, but…”

Gavin sat up straighter. “What?”
“Stasia confessed her, shall we say, indiscretion with you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Gavin went immediately on the defensive, icy shock

coursing through his veins that Stasia would ever admit to what they’d shared. He’d figured she
would move on and pretend it never happened. She’d discarded him like yesterday’s trash, so why
dwell on it?

“Listen.” Alex’s voice lowered. “Those women get together and talk about relationships and

babies and love and marriage and us.” He sighed harshly. “They started digging and they figured out
you two were an item. Stasia folded fairly easily, according to Tessa. She confessed all.”

“All?” Gavin started to sweat.
Alex chuckled. “Don’t worry. I don’t necessarily care what happened between you and Stasia.

Though, as her brother, I’m now obliged to say that if you hurt her in any way whatsoever, I’ll break
your neck.”

The steely strength underlying Alex’s statement proved he meant every word he said. Not that

Gavin doubted him. “She’s the one who dumped me.”

“I know. Now we’re getting to the part where I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.” Alex paused

before he plunged on. “She misses you. A lot.”

His heart tripped over itself. He missed her too. So much, it hurt. “It doesn’t matter,” Gavin lied.

“She said we were through.”

“She might be having second thoughts.”
“Might be a little too late for second thoughts, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. I’m not you.”
Gavin quietly seethed. He did not want to hear this. Didn’t want to think of Stasia missing him.

Wanting him. Just like he missed and wanted her still. Simply hearing her name brought his hopes up,
made him think they possibly had a chance…

They had no chance. She’d made that more than clear.
“She’s been lonely.” By choice. “Now that she has familial support from you and yours, she’ll be

fine.”

“You sound so sure of that,” Alex said, sounding rather reflective. “We might not be enough,

though.”

“Then she’ll find another man.” The mere thought filled him with rage. He’d never been the jealous

type, but the idea of Stasia with another man filled him with a possessiveness he couldn’t deny.

“You sound like you need a drink. Want to meet for one after work?”
Gavin was surprised at the suggestion. He and Alex were old friends, but still. They hadn’t gotten

together in a long while and plus with all the Renaldi mess going on, he figured Alex wanted to keep
his distance for professional reasons.

But if the Worths were willing to bring Stasia into the fold, then they didn’t need to keep their

distance from each other any longer. Besides, he didn’t work for her.

“As long as you’re not working through half the night, I’m game,” Gavin said.
Alex snorted. “Give me a break. You’re just as much a workaholic as I am.”
He was right. In fact, he was worse lately. Far easier to work until he couldn’t see straight than sit

at home and wonder what might’ve been…

They set up a time and place to meet before Gavin disconnected and for the first time in days, he

felt somewhat content. Meeting with an old friend for drinks was a great way to distract him. Keep his
thoughts off Stasia. He might even spot a few attractive women and flirt—not that he expected Alex to
join him. But a married man like Alex was the perfect wingman.

Gavin frowned. He’d do anything to keep his mind off of Stasia. Anything.

Chapter Sixteen

The bar was crowded and noisy, one of those trendy, of-the-moment Manhattan hot spots that were

all the rage amongst the younger set. Funny how Stasia was at the age many considered the younger
set, yet she wasn’t interested in getting drunk and picking up guys who dressed better than she did. It
was definitely not her normal scene, but it was where Tessa wanted to meet her for drinks before they
went on to dinner, so she didn’t protest.

Music played, but not loud enough to drown out the noise of the crowd. She sat at the counter,

snagging one of the last barstools, and ordered a glass of wine, noting the bartender’s bored
expression when she made her request. She wasn’t in the mood for a drink containing a mass variety
of alcohols in it. Those kinds of drinks just gave her a headache.

Glancing around, she tried to catch sight of Tessa’s now-familiar face, but she didn’t spot her.

Completely unlike her too, considering the woman was timely to a fault, as Stasia had quickly
discovered.

How she loved being so easily accepted by the Worth women. They welcomed Stasia with open

arms, included her in every little thing, which she appreciated. The men, on the other hand, she wasn’t
sure about yet. The scheduled lunch meeting was set to happen this weekend at Alex’s home and she
was beyond nervous, especially when Alex encouraged her to bring her mother.

She wondered if they feared what she might ask of them. They thought she wanted to work for

Worth, wanted a financial piece of the company. And she could admit she’d secretly entertained the
thought. But a move like that would turn the industry on its ear, and it could hurt the Renaldi family as
well. Something she would never purposely do. She was still tempted to strike out on her own,
though.

But was she brave enough?
Her brothers weren’t thrilled with what happened between her and the Worths, but they understood

her need to find a place within the Worth family. Her mother had proven surprisingly encouraging
since they arrived in New York. Eventually, once she was comfortable enough, she would ask her
new brothers about her real father. She wanted to know more about him. Hear fond stories, see
private family photos and learn about Michael Worth through his sons.

It made her sad, that she would never know him…
“What the hell are you doing here?”
At the sound of the sharp male voice, Stasia whirled around, her jaw dropping when she saw who

stood in front of her. “Meeting someone.” She snapped her mouth shut, trying to regain her shattered
composure. “What are

you

doing here?”

Gavin—in all his after-work, rumpled, handsome glory—made her heart leap. His hair was a mess,

appearing as if he’d run his fingers through it again and again. In a button-up shirt sans tie, his sleeves
rolled up as usual, offering her a glimpse of strong, tanned forearms covered in a light sprinkling of
dark brown hair. His eyes were a dark, fathomless green, ominous behind his glasses and his jaw was
so tense it looked ready to shatter at any moment.

“I’m meeting someone as well.” He stepped away from her, shoved his hands in his pockets and

searched the room with his gaze. “Who are you meeting?”

“Uh…” Her voice trailed off and her tongue became tied. She didn’t know what to say, how to

answer. All she could do was drink him in with greedy eyes, struck dumb by having him in front of
her once more.

“You won’t answer, so I assume you’re meeting a guy.” Leave it to him to think the worst. And

considering she didn’t deny it, leave it to her to imply the worst. Weren’t they a well-matched pair? “I
certainly don’t want to interrupt your date.”

He started to go, but she hopped off the barstool like a woman possessed, grabbing hold of his arm

to stop him from leaving. “Wait.”

Glaring at where her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, he lifted his lids, his eyes blazing. “I’m

meeting with Tessa Worth,” she admitted, releasing her hold on him. What possessed her to tell the
truth, she didn’t know.

Okay, she did. She didn’t want to make him angry. He was already angry enough.
His gaze darkened even more, if that was possible. “I was supposed to meet Alex here tonight.”
“Really? That’s such a coincidence…”
“I don’t think so,” he interrupted. His mouth firmed into a grim line. “I think we were set up.”
“Set up?” she asked weakly.
He nodded once, radiating potently sexy anger. Inhaling subtly, she breathed in his spicy scent, the

heat of his body reaching toward her, weakening her knees. How she missed him.

“When did Tessa call you?”
“Last night.” She weaved toward him, wishing he would touch her. Wishing she hadn’t been so

rash in her decision to turn him away.

Stasia frowned. Had it only been a few weeks ago? It felt like months. Years.
“Alex called me this afternoon. Asked me to get together for drinks, which I thought was odd, but I

didn’t question it, especially since I don’t represent you anymore so there’s no conflict of interest.”
He scrubbed a hand along his jaw, the gesture so inherently masculine, she longed to see him do it
again. Desire spiked within her, heady and sharp. “I think they’re trying to get us together.”

“Um…” She kept her head averted, afraid to see his reaction. She hated how he rendered her

speechless. “I told Tessa about us. Well, I didn’t mention your name specifically, but Gabriella,
Rhett’s girlfriend, she figured everything out.” She winced, waiting for his furious reaction.

“I know. Alex told me.”
Surprise at his quiet revelation caused her to look at him. He didn’t seem mad. More like a little

rough around the edges, with a sort of weariness hanging over him that filled her with the urge to offer
him comfort. His expression softened and he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up more. It didn’t
distract from his good looks. More than one woman within the crowded bar was checking him out.

Jealousy flared, hot and unavoidable, and she shoved it aside. “Alex told you?” she asked weakly.
He nodded, parted his lips as if he were about to say something when someone from behind Stasia

shoved her hard, sending her straight at Gavin. His arms came around her, holding her carefully and
he tugged her in close, glaring at whoever had pushed her. “Watch where you’re going,” he muttered
fiercely, his eyes gleaming.

She watched him, felt the tenseness in his muscles, enjoying how he held her close. The culprit was

young, she could tell by his muttered, “Ease up, bro” as he tried to walk past them.

“Tell the lady you’re sorry,” Gavin demanded.
“Sorry.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she gave the man, who looked barely over twenty-one, a fleeting

smile. “It’s okay.”

“You’re lucky she’s so nice,” Gavin practically growled, slipping his arm around her shoulders in

a protective gesture, turning her away from the man.

“You didn’t have to be so mean,” she told him as he led her to the other side of the even more

crowded bar.

“And he didn’t have to be such a careless ass. Did he hurt you?”
Her skin warming at his concern, she shook her head. “I’m fine. Really.”
“You want to get out of here?”
All the breath lodged in her throat. “With you?”
“We can go grab some dinner. Together.” He released his hold on her, taking a step back. “That is,

if you want to. Which, I understand if you don’t, because, well, you know…”

“I want to.” She smiled, hope flickering to life in her chest. “I definitely want to.”
He returned the smile, though his gaze was still wary. She’d break that. She had to. “Great. Let’s

go.”

Gavin took Stasia to a restaurant not far from the bar, a small place that served amazing food. A

popular steakhouse, the interior was cozy, with brick walls, dark, gleaming wood floors and booths
and vintage black-and-white photographs of Manhattan everywhere.

He’d been there before, numerous times, though he’d never brought a woman. That he’d broken

every promise he’d made himself to avoid her and had asked Stasia to accompany him tonight made
him want to alternately kick his own ass and pat himself on the back.

For now, he was going with the latter.
They ordered, Gavin recommending a few choices, and Stasia chose his favorite. More wine,

because he needed it for liquid courage and she seemed to need it too. What a pair they were, dancing
around the subject but neither of them coming right out and saying it. He couldn’t be the first to broach
their past and apparently, neither could she.

So they made idle small talk instead until it dwindled to nothing when their waiter brought the food.
“I’ve reconciled with my mother. She’s here with me in New York,” she finally said halfway

through the meal, causing him to almost choke on his steak. “She asked me about you.”

“What did she ask?” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, curiosity making his brain race with a

ton of unanswered questions. None of them he was brave enough to ask.

“If I’ve seen you. She knows the truth. I told her everything when I was in Italy.” She nibbled

daintily on the tip of a fry, a little murmur of satisfaction escaping her as she licked her lips. “You
were right. These homemade fries are amazing.”

His cock jerked at the sight of her lips wrapped around the fry, her quiet sounds of pleasure. Hot

images of her naked in his bed flashed through his memory. She hummed just like that when aroused.
How could he forget that sound when he first slid his tongue through her drenched folds, when he
thrust deep inside her welcoming body…

“Wait a minute.” Damn, he needed to focus on what she said, not how much he still wanted her.

“You told your mother everything? As in, we weren’t really together?”

Stasia shrugged, sipped nonchalantly from her glass. “I told her initially we were faking it. But that

eventually, we ended up together—somewhat.” When he stared at her, not saying a word, she
scowled. “Did you want me to hide everything from her? I’m trying to keep the peace between us, not
create more secrets.”

“I don’t want you to create more secrets. I’m glad you were honest with her,” he said, sawing into

his steak as if he wanted to kill it.

“So why are you attacking your meal like it’s wronged you?” Stasia asked, her voice so low he had

to lean across the table to hear her. “You’re upset with me, aren’t you?”

“Not any longer,” he muttered, which was a lie.
He was upset with her, with himself, with the entire situation.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she confessed softly, her gaze downcast. “I was hurting too much to see

what I did to you. To others.”

He didn’t know what to say. A part of him wanted to hold on to his anger toward her. Yet he also

wanted to let it go and grab her, take her back to his place and keep her in his bed all night long…

“I know.” How else could he answer her?
She met his gaze, her eyes full of shock. “I’m trying to make everything right. It’s been tough, trying

to get through to my new brothers. It still is. But they’ll come around. And I really like their wives.
Well, Ella is Rhett’s girlfriend, but I’m sure he’ll change her Facebook status from in a relationship to
engaged here soon.” She tittered. “That sounds completely silly, but Gracie and Tessa were teasing
Ella about it a few nights ago. They’re all so wonderful.” She beamed, her eyes glowing with what
could only be happiness.

“That’s great, Stasia. I’m really happy for you.” And he was. She was getting everything she

wanted and relatively fast too. Acceptance. That was all she sought.

If he was going to be honest, that was all he’d wanted as well. Especially from her.
“Thank you. I owe you a lot for all your help.”
He waved a hand, tried not to react to the seductive tone of her voice, how her choice of words

conjured all sorts of ways she could

owe

him. Every single one of them dirty. “You were billed and

you paid. That’s good enough for me.” God, he was such a liar.

She laughed, a sweet, tinkling sound that sent heat curling through his veins, settled low in his gut.

“It’s not about the money and you know it. You helped me realize I shouldn’t give up. You wouldn’t
let me, even when I was ready, begging for it. That speech you gave me really hurt, but it also
helped.”

He’d tried his best to burn that night from his memory but clearly she didn’t feel the same. Hadn’t it

affected her? That was the night they ended everything. He hated to think about it.

And here she was shoving it into his face.
“I’m—glad my encouragement helped you find what you were looking for.”
She glanced down, kept her gaze trained on her lap. “There are some things I’m still missing,

though.”

“Like what?”
“Like you.” She lifted her head, her sparkling gaze meeting his. “I made a mistake.”
His heart tightened and he absently rubbed at his chest. This was going to go down now? In the

middle of a restaurant? He wasn’t sure if he could take it. “Made a mistake about what?”

“About us. I was so stupid. I should’ve never let you go. Tessa, Gracie and Ella, they all helped me

see that.” She paused, let her words sink in, which they were having a hard time doing, her admission
was so shocking. “I miss you, Gavin. So much.”

He wasn’t about to lay his feelings out for her to pick over, only to decide she wasn’t interested

after all. Not yet, at least.

“I know you won’t give me an answer yet,” she forged on, as if she could read his mind. “I can’t

blame you. I know I hurt you. But just know this—I want to try again with you. And I’m hoping you’ll
give me another chance.”

Instinct screamed at him to tell her fuck off. She’d had her chance once and blew it. Why should he

give her another one? He rarely gave anyone a

single

chance, let alone a second one.

But his body—and damn it, his heart—told him to listen to what she had to say.

“I still want you, Gavin,” she whispered. “Seeing you tonight…when you touched me after that guy

pushed me into you, it felt so good. So right.”

She was getting to him with a few choice words. Wasn’t he stronger than that? “We have good

chemistry,” he said with a shrug, trying his best to pretend her words didn’t matter.

“It’s more than that. Isn’t it?” Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. Almost as if she willed him

to answer the way she wanted.

“Chemistry is fairly simple,” he started, clamping his lips shut when he saw the subtle tremble of

her mouth, how her eyes glassed over. She looked liked she was going to cry.

“So it’s just chemistry to you. That’s it.” She yanked the cloth napkin from her lap and tossed it on

the table, half of it draping across her plate. “Just a good time. Lots of fucking, lots of orgasms and
then you’re done with me.”

“Wait a minute—” She had no right to get angry.

She

was the one who dumped

him.

And damn if that still didn’t bruise his ego.
She stood, glaring at him. “No, you wait a minute. I put my heart on the line and tell you that I miss

you and want you back and you explain it away as simple chemistry. Sitting there with that shitty look
on your face. How cold can you be?”

He stood as well, inhaling sharply to gain some control. Stasia was completely riled, her eyes

wild, her entire body trembling. “Don’t put all the blame on me. You’re the one who ended this.”

“And you’ll never let me forget it, either.” She grabbed her tiny purse and stalked off, leaving him

no choice but to toss a hundred dollar bill on the table and chase after her, calling her name as he
exited the restaurant.

She stalked down the sidewalk, her strides surprisingly long for such a petite woman. He caught up

with her easily, hooking the crook of her elbow with a firm grip and making her stop.

“Let go of me.” Jerking against his hold, she gave an aggravated grunt when he wouldn’t release

her, and she kicked at his shin with her pointy shoes.

“Ow, damn it.” He let her go, dodging away from her swinging foot. Rubbed his knee, wincing at

the sharp pain that made the front of his leg throb. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong with me!” She gave him the middle finger and took off.
He followed her, a glutton for punishment, though at least this time he was smart enough not to

touch her.

“You can’t expect me to take you back because you say you made a mistake,” he yelled at her, not

giving a shit if anyone they passed could hear him.

“Of course not. Nothing’s ever that easy,” she retorted.
She was passionate, full of fire as she stalked along the sidewalk like the priciest supermodel

striding down a catwalk. Her wavy hair billowed out around her and she walked with ease in those
sexy high heels. Damn if the sight of her didn’t arouse him.

“Kind of hard for you to deal with when everything you’ve ever wanted has been handed to you.”
Stasia stopped, her entire body eerily still for a moment before she slowly turned to face him.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.” He jerked his chin in her direction. “Spoiled little princess upset because she

didn’t get her way. I bet you rarely hear the word no, huh?”

“I’m sorry you had such a terrible time of it growing up, I really am. I can’t help who I am, though,

who my family is. So I grew up privileged, yes. I might’ve taken advantage of it too. But you’ve been
with me since my whole world was turned upside down. I thought of all people in my life,

you

would

be the one who understood the most.” She sniffed, wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand. “I

guess I was wrong.”

Christ, she was crying. Damn it. He was the biggest sucker ever for a crying woman.
Especially this particular crying woman.
He approached her carefully, as one might approach a scared and wounded wild animal. She

watched him warily, the tears streaming freely down her cheeks, her arms wrapped around her
middle, standing on the edge of the sidewalk. People walked by but didn’t pay them any mind. Just
another typical crazy night in New York.

His life had turned into a goddamned soap opera, all because of this beautiful, spirited, tough-as-

hell woman.

“You can’t expect me to take you back with open arms, especially after how you ended it,” he said,

stopping in front of her. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. “You’ve had one major emotional upheaval
after another these last few months. Your life has completely changed.”

She nodded, her chin trembling, the tears leaving tracks across her cheeks as they dried. She was a

beautiful mess and he ached to take her into his arms and console her. “It’s changed a—a lot.”

“You need to understand you pushed me away.” Reaching out, he took her hand in his. “And it

hurt.”

“I—I know,” she stuttered, swallowing hard.
His heart cracked. Damn, she was getting under his skin. Scratch that—she’d been under his skin

since the moment he met her. “But I understand you’ve been scared.”

“I have. I’m tired of being a mess.” She broke out in full on crying now, the sobs wracking her

body, making her shoulders shake. “I regret how I screwed up what we had.”

Without a reply, he pulled her in close, wrapped his free hand around the back of her head and

pushed her face against his chest. She cried into his shirt, wound her arms around him and held on like
she never wanted to let go. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You were already hurting. It couldn’t be helped.” He ran his hand over her silky soft hair,

breathed deep her fragrance. Stasia was right. It did feel good to have her in his arms.

And at this very moment, he knew he couldn’t let her go. He needed her in his life.
Maybe forever.

Chapter Seventeen

Relief flooded Stasia when she walked into her apartment, Gavin directly behind her. The argument

on the sidewalk had been embarrassing. She’d completely lost it, became so angry at his simple
chemistry remark that she’d been tempted to smack him.

Well, she hadn’t smacked him, but she’d kicked him. She still couldn’t believe she’d done that.
But by some miracle he’d ended up comforting her. Without false words either, but with his

embrace. How easily he’d pulled her into his arms, held her close while she cried. She was so sick of
crying. She should be happy. Everything she’d so desperately wanted when she’d discovered the truth
about her father was now right there, waiting for her. A new family that was starting to accept her…
she should’ve been thrilled. She thought she’d feel whole once again.

She didn’t. She still wanted more. A meaningful relationship was another important need. A new

career direction was also a path she was seriously considering. She’d already talked to Matteo and
Rafe about it and they encouraged her to give it a try…

“Nice apartment,” Gavin commented after he shut the door and turned the lock. He shoved his

hands deep into his pockets, glancing around her living room.

“Thanks. My parents gave it to me when I turned twenty.” She said it on purpose, going with the

spoiled princess personality, since that was what he believed her to be.

He at least had the decency to wince. “You’re very fortunate that they helped you so much.”
“I know I am. And I appreciate everything they’ve ever done for me.”
She was also thankful he’d wanted to accompany her home and make sure she was all right. The

gesture touched her deeply, showed that he might care about her after all. He was so kind, so
thoughtful.

And she’d almost screwed everything up.
“Is your mom here?” He glanced about the room warily, as if afraid Mama would spring out of a

corner at any moment.

“No.” Stasia shook her head. “She’s staying at the apartment she and my…father had. She thought it

best we not be with each other every second of the day.” She’d most certainly agreed.

“Maybe you should go to bed,” he suggested as he walked into the center of the living room. “You

need to rest.”

Will you stay?

The words hovered on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be said but she didn’t have the

courage.

“I think I’m going to take a shower first.” She released a shaky breath.
“You want me to stay until you’re finished?” he asked softly.
She watched him watch her. His expression was relaxed, though his gaze razor sharp. Most likely

analyzing her mental stability, wondering if she was strong enough to be left alone.

“Um, if you don’t mind?” She nodded, thankful he offered and she didn’t have to ask.
“I’ll wait for you out here. When you’re done, though, I should go.”
“All right.” She started for the hallway and paused, turning to face him once more. “Thank you,

Gavin, for being so…understanding.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled and the sight of it was like a dagger to the heart. Staggering,

dangerous, he was too gorgeous for words.

Too sweet, too sexy, too smart…too everything. He made it so easy for her to fall in love with him.

Not even a month ago that thought would’ve struck icy cold fear in her heart. But now…she wanted

him. Wanted him in her life, in her heart.

Did he feel the same?
Determination filling her steps, she headed down the hall toward her bedroom, glancing at her

phone. She had a few text messages, one from her mother, two from Matteo and one from Rafe, all of
them asking about a certain bit of news that recently went public regarding her involvement with the
Worths.

She pressed the link Matteo sent in his text, waiting impatiently for it to load. And when the article

finally appeared, her knees weakened at first sight of the headline.

Renaldi Daughter Really the Love Child of Michael Worth.
Swallowing past the nausea that rose, she sat on the edge of her bed, skimming the article. Most of

the information was fairly accurate, mixed with pure speculation and a hint of outright lies. She
searched the web and found that the story was mentioned everywhere, at all the network news sites.

In other words, she needed to start a damage control campaign, stat.
Her cordless phone rang and she answered it quickly, hoping Gavin didn’t hear.
“Where have you been? Why haven’t you responded?” Matteo asked, his voice tight.
“Calm down, I just received your texts.”
“Did you read that article? What the hell is going on, Stasia?”
“I read it.” She scrolled back up, saw that the article was featured in an English tabloid. They were

the worst of them all. “I have no idea who they talked to. Anyone could’ve leaked it. Someone from
the lab, maybe—it’s not like we kept it a complete secret.”

“Could’ve been anyone, eh? Could’ve been the Worths leaking this story and trying to make you

and

us look bad,” Matteo practically growled. “I will not let them desecrate our name.”

Oh God, just what she’d feared. Her families going to war while she was stuck in the middle. “I

doubt they would do this. They look just as bad.”

“No, actually, they do not. Did you read the article? They make Mama sound like some sort of

crazed sex addict looking for revenge against our father. It’s disgusting.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She tossed her cell phone onto the bed and lay

back on the mattress, closing her eyes. This was the very last thing she needed, especially tonight.
“Have you talked to Mama?”

Stasia should call her, make sure her mother was all right. Maybe even go to her apartment and

offer her some comfort. It was the least she could do.

“Yes,” Matt bit out. He reminded her of their father when he was angry, how he would get that low

growl to his tone, his accent coming through full force. “She’s very upset but also mentioned she
expected such a reaction from the press. She wishes to talk to you.”

“I’ll call her in the morning, my time. I—I can’t deal with this right now.” Stasia closed her eyes,

her heart turning somersaults. She hated that this had happened. Not because of herself, but for her
mother. She was fragile enough…

“You cannot avoid your problems forever, Anastasia. You need to confront this head on, present

the public with the facts and hope that a new scandal comes along and distracts them.”

“I’d rather not say anything at all.” Why would she need to talk to the press and tell them such

personal, intimate details in regards to their family? It was none of their business.

“I wouldn’t recommend that approach.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t, but ultimately, I’m going to do what’s best for me and for both families

involved.”

Her brother was bossy, demanding. Always wanting everyone to follow his commands and to hell

with anyone else’s ideas.

“Don’t forget businesses are involved here as well. Both men left legacies their sons are trying to

carry on. Don’t let this little scandal ruin those legacies,” Matteo said.

“Remember, I am the ‘little scandal’ you refer to.” Stasia’s blood boiled with fury. What the hell

was Matt thinking, saying something like that? “And the legacies aren’t being carried on by only the
sons. I’m included in that as well. Or do I not matter because I’m a woman?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I don’t have to. You already said them.” She hung up on her brother before he could continue,

anger making her hands shake. She still lay in the middle of the bed, staring up at the ceiling, gripping
the cordless phone so tight her fingers ached.

A soft knock sounded on her half closed bedroom door and then Gavin peeked around it, concern

written all over his face. She sat up quickly, letting go of the phone. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She offered him a weak smile. “Not really.”
He pushed the door open, entering the room so he stood at the foot of the bed. “What happened? I

thought you were taking a shower.”

“My brother called.” Grabbing her cell, she brought up the article and handed it over to him. “This

article appeared in an English tabloid first thing this morning UK time.”

Gavin took the phone, squinting as he read the article. He tapped his finger against the screen,

scrolling through the entire thing, his mouth firming into a thinner line with every paragraph he read.
“Damn,” he muttered, glancing up to meet her gaze.

She nodded gravely. “I just spoke with Matteo. He’s demanding I do damage control.”
“It’s the smart thing to do.”
“But I don’t want to reveal such private information.” She paused, her mind awhirl with too many

possibilities in how to handle this. “It’s no one’s business, what happened between my mother and
Michael Worth.”

“The

Daily News

just made it everyone’s business.” He handed the phone back to her. “This will

appear in the

Post

tomorrow morning. You know this.”

“I do know.” She sighed, threw the phone back onto the bed, watching it bounce. “I’m scared,

Gavin. I don’t know how to handle this.”

“Let me help you.” He sat next to her, so close his solid warmth seeped into her, giving her

comfort. “I’ll contact Alex tomorrow morning. Hell, I’ll call him right now. He can have his PR
department come up with a press release or some sort of statement and it can be sent to the press first
thing.”

“Do you think that will work?”
“When you’re attacked, you need to counterattack. A press release will do that. Hopefully it will

shut everyone up and that’ll be the end of it.”

“But what do I say?”
“You tell them the truth. Don’t deny anything. Yes, I’m the daughter of Claudia Renaldi and

Michael Worth. And yes, my father is also Giorgio Renaldi, because he’s the man who raised me. I’m
now lucky enough to have two families, both of whom accept me with open arms. The end.” He
scrubbed a hand through his hair, turned to look at her. “What do you think?”

“They’ll still ask questions.”
“You don’t need to answer them. Let them speculate all they want. You’ll all know the truth.”
“They’ll drag my mother through the mud.” That thought hurt the most.
“Stasia, you need to realize that your mother has to take responsibility for what she did. This isn’t

your fault.

She’s

the one who had the affair with Michael Worth. And she’s the one who gave birth to

you and never told your father that you really weren’t his daughter.” He grabbed her by the shoulders,
turning her so she had to face him. “You’re not the guilty party here. She is.”

“Knowing that doesn’t make any of this easier.” She dropped her head, stared at her knees. It was

hard to look at him when he had such sincerity, such caring in his gaze. It made her hope too much. “I
don’t want to see her go through this.”

“She’s a grown woman. She can make it. And so can you.” He gave her a little shake and she lifted

her head, met his gaze. “I’m going to call Alex so he can get the ball rolling on this. Hopefully he can
get Hunter involved. He’s the head of their marketing department. I’m sure he could come up with a
fantastic statement that’ll cover all aspects of the story.”

He released his hold on her and stood, yanking his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through his

contacts before he brought the phone to his ear. She watched him pace the room with his long-legged
stride, his expression one of fierce concentration as he waited for Alex to pick up.

“Alex. Sorry to bother you so late. Yeah, it’s me. Listen. We have a situation.” He left the room,

pacing the hallway instead and she left the bed, went and stood behind the door so she could spy on
him.

But she couldn’t make out everything he said. It was mostly a jumbled murmuring of words.

Sighing, she raked her fingers through her hair. She was in good hands. He would know how to
explain this to Alex and if anyone knew how to handle a scandalous situation, it was Alex. He’d had
many to deal with, most of them brought on by Rhett when he’d been New York City’s resident bad
boy.

Reassured, she decided to take that shower she’d meant to get to. And hopefully wash all of the

day’s grime away.

“Okay, I talked to Alex and they’ll release a statement in your name to all the pertinent media

outlets in the morning,” Gavin said as he strode back into Stasia’s bedroom.

No one answered. He realized the room was empty and he was talking to himself.
Huh. Figured.
Glancing around, he saw the shut door, the light shining from beneath it. The sound of water running

clued him in that Stasia had finally taken that shower she’d spoke of.

Images of a naked, soapy, sexy woman filled his mind, and he approached the bathroom door

without thought, tempted to go in and surprise her. Maybe join her, if she’d let him.

But would she? Talk about one traumatic hit after another. The woman had had her fair share in the

last few months, let alone the last few hours. A never-ending shit storm surrounded Stasia and she
always seemed trapped in the middle of it all.

She most likely wanted to shower and then collapse into bed. She needed alone time, not him

hanging around and bothering her.

Or he was just trying to convince himself she didn’t want him around.
Deeming his thoughts utter bullshit, he stripped off his clothes methodically, tossing each piece on

the chair that sat by the bathroom door, left his glasses on top of the pile. Turning the door handle
slowly, he entered the warm, steamy bathroom, stopped short at the vision before him.

The large glass-enclosed shower was full of billowing steam, but he could still make out the naked

woman within. His heart lurched, slowly rolled over itself and as if in a daze, he stumbled toward the
shower, grasping the handle with shaking fingers before he opened it and stepped inside.

“Oh!” She turned, her hands covering her breasts, the water streaming down her face. “Gavin.”

“Hey.” He closed the door behind him, his head buzzing at the sight of all that soaped up, naked

goodness. “Got room for one more?”

“Um, sure.” She stepped from beneath the spray, a little smile curving her lips. “I can’t believe

you’re joining me.”

“Am I unwanted?” Without thought, he reached for her, grasping her waist and yanking her close,

streaking his thumbs over all that damp, exposed skin. “I’ll go if you want me to.”

“I want you to stay.” She pushed the wet hair away from her face, staring up at him boldly. “I

thought of asking you to join me, but…you were too busy on the phone.”

He raised a brow, all the while running his hands along her sides, up her stomach, her ribcage, until

he settled his hands just beneath her plump breasts. “Really?”

She inhaled sharply when he drew his index finger across her left nipple. He watched it tighten into

a hard point, couldn’t tear his gaze away from it. “Yes,” she murmured. “Really.”

“Well, I’m not too busy now.” He drew an achingly slow circle around that pretty little pink nipple,

dying to taste it, but not just yet. He wanted to draw this out, make her yearn and wiggle and cry out
before he’d finally give her what she needed.

“Gavin.” His name left her on a whimper, and he smiled his satisfaction. He’d missed her. Hell,

he’d missed this sexual connection that linked them so tightly. She was so responsive, so sensually
beautiful.

He couldn’t get enough of her.
Leaning in, he cupped her cheek with his free hand, tilting her head back for his kiss. She parted her

lips, her tongue darting out for a quick lick, and he settled his mouth on hers. Softly seeking her tongue
with his.

She slipped her arms around him, her hands wandering down to his backside, drawing her nails

back and forth across his sensitive skin. He pushed her against the wall, out of the way of the
streaming water and thrust his hips against hers. Grinding his cock against her soft belly, he forgot his
plan of a moment ago.

Gavin couldn’t take it slow. He wanted her too damn much.
“Oh God.” She broke away from his kiss on a moan when he cupped her breasts with both hands. “I

need you inside me, Gavin. Now.”

He rained kisses down the length of her neck, across her chest, licking first one nipple, then the

other. She clutched his head close, her fingers tightening in his hair as he drew one nipple deep into
his mouth. Sucking, licking, tasting her sweet, lush flesh.

“Please,” she whimpered, tugging on his hair so he pulled away from her breasts. Standing up

straight so he could face her, he grabbed her by the waist, hauling her into his arms. She automatically
wound her legs around his hips, clinging to him, and he kissed her again. Felt as if he could consume
her, drown in her…

Pressing her against the wall, he stared at her rapturous face. Her eyes were closed, her swollen

lips parted, her cheeks flushed. “Stasia. Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, her unfixed gaze settling on him and she smiled dreamily. “I need you,

Gavin.”

“I don’t have a condom.” And hell if he wanted to leave the shower to go grab one, as selfish as

that was.

“That’s okay.” She lifted her hips, brushing against his cock, and he gritted his teeth to contain the

moan that wanted to escape. “I’m on the pill.”

“I’m clean,” he swore, excitement bubbling inside of him. Had he ever been inside a woman sans

condom before? He didn’t think so. He’d always been the king of safe sex, never wanting to risk
anything, especially pregnancy.

He’d seen plenty of high school classmates have to drop out because either she was pregnant or he

knocked up a girl and needed to get a job to support his new family. That had scared the shit out of
him then. Still sorta scared him now.

No babies for him. Yet.
“So am I.” Her smile grew.
She was a sultry, wet goddess, the woman of his dreams, the woman he missed more than he could

ever admit. And now that he had her…

No way was he going to let her go.
“Need you inside me,” she murmured, reaching for his kiss. Their mouths met, clung and he

positioned her, brushed his cock against her molten hot center. “Yessss. You feel so good.”

And he wasn’t even inside her yet. “Look at me, baby.” She lifted her lids, her gaze meeting his and

slowly he entered her, fed her his cock inch by excruciating inch. Her body trembled around him, she
tightened her arms around his neck but still she never looked away.

It was the most intense moment he’d ever shared with another person in his life.
He pushed all the way in, filling her completely. Pausing for a moment, he drank in her misty

features, the little beads of water that clung to her thick lashes, the lushness of her red mouth. He
kissed her, thrust his tongue deep, tangling with hers as he withdrew from her almost completely
before plunging deep again.

They continued this battle, the sexual push and pull, their mouths still fused, hands gripping each

other’s bodies. Slow at first, a sleek, sensual glide that was driving both of them insane until he
couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you close?” He murmured the question against her fragrant neck, licking and nibbling the

tender skin.

She shivered beneath his ministrations. “God yes,” she whispered, moving her hips just so, a little

moan escaping her. Showing she most definitely was close to her climax. “Faster, Gavin. I’m begging
you.”

Increasing his pace, he hammered into her again and again, his orgasm barreling down on him. She

was so tight, hot and wet and his cock ready to explode.

He pressed her so close to the wall, he was afraid he smashed her but she didn’t complain. Her

whimpers of pleasure grew louder as his thrusts powered faster, until he was ramming inside her so
hard, he finally came apart with a shout.

Stream after stream of semen pumped inside her as he ground his hips to hers. He pressed his

forehead against the cold tile wall, right next to her head, closing his eyes as wave after wave of
pleasure washed over him. She shivered all around him, little cries escaping her, her fingernails
digging into his back as she came. Exhaling loudly, his entire body became shaky and he pulled away
from her, still shocked at the intensity of his orgasm.

“Wow,” she whispered, a grin spreading across her face. “That was…”
“Amazing,” he finished for her, returning the smile. “You’re amazing.”
Her smile grew tender. “So are you.”
Reaching to his right, he wrenched the faucet off, the now lukewarm water shutting off. “Let’s get

out of this shower, get dry and then do this all over again. You game?”

She laughed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Definitely.”
He needed to keep the moment light. Before he went crazy and said something that might freak her

out.

Like that he was in love with her.

Chapter Eighteen

Alex and Tessa Worth’s apartment was amazing, even more beautiful than Rhett and Ella’s, if that

was possible. Stasia tried her best not to gawk. She’d lived in some of the most beautiful places in the
world—the Renaldi villa had been featured in some of the most prestigious home design magazines
out there—but she couldn’t help but stare unabashedly as Tessa led her and her mother through the
sleek, modern yet somehow still cozy home.

“Everyone’s in the kitchen,” Tessa said from over her shoulder, a bright smile on her pretty face.

“They’re waiting anxiously for your arrival.”

Nerves ate at her stomach and Stasia took a deep breath. She hoped she could actually eat lunch. It

would be awful to insult her hosts. “I’m anxious too.”

“Of course you are. We’re all nervous,” Tessa said.
And for all different reasons. Stasia had a feeling she was the most nervous of them all—with the

exception of her mother. She’d had to practically drag Mama there.

“Your home is lovely, Mrs. Worth,” Mama said, her voice shaky. Stasia gave her an encouraging

smile, wanting to put her at ease.

“Thank you. And please, call me Tessa. Hardly anyone calls me Mrs. Worth. Ah, here we are.”

The kitchen was large, bright with the early afternoon sun. The stainless steel appliances gleamed, the
expansive granite countertops were laden with food and the room smelled like heaven.

“Anastasia. It’s so good to see you.” Alex approached out of nowhere, casual in a pair of jeans and

button-down shirt. Stasia had never seen him look so relaxed. “Thank you for coming to my home.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” Stasia cleared her throat. “Alex, this is my mother, Claudia.”
The look on Alex’s face was nothing less than cordial as he took Claudia’s hand and shook it. “It is

a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes, thank you.” Claudia bobbed her head, wincing. “I’m so sorry. I’m very nervous.”
“Don’t worry. We all are.” Alex looked at Stasia with a smile. “Won’t you sit down? Care for

something to drink?”

The table where the entire Worth clan sat was large, a stunning view of the New York City skyline

visible from the wide expanse of windows that lined the wall. Alex owned the penthouse suite of
course—he seemed to have the best of everything and Stasia couldn’t help but be impressed.

Her brother—every one of her brothers—was a very powerful man. Hopefully, someday she’d be

accepted by the Worth family completely. This lunch was the start of establishing a relationship with
all of them, even Alex and Hunter’s children, who were all present.

Niceties were attended to, drinks handled, plates loaded with a variety of food as they all dug into

the delicious lunch provided by a caterer Tessa had hired especially for the occasion. Stasia sat next
to Rhett and Ella, the ones she felt the most comfortable with, while her mother somehow ended up
next to Hunter. Thankfully, he was polite, his expression a neutral mask, none of the hostility Stasia
had encountered previously visible.

It was downright unnerving, how easily they accepted her. She wondered if there was some sort of

trick that they might spring on her at the end of the meal.

“Where’s Gavin?” Ella asked quietly when Rhett left them to help Tessa with something in the

kitchen.

Stasia shook her head. “He couldn’t make it.” He didn’t feel right in coming with her, didn’t want

to interfere with her new family, especially since he’d once represented her. She’d reassured him she

wanted him there by her side, that no one would protest, but he’d been adamant, telling her it was a
private moment for her. And it hadn’t turned into an argument, either.

In fact, the sweet, sexy kiss he’d given her before he left her apartment early this morning had

nearly been her undoing. They’d spent the last two nights together, talking, learning more about each
other, making love. She’d shared with Gavin her thoughts on starting her own jewelry line and he
offered valid ideas how to approach her two families about the new venture.

She was nervous, though. Didn’t want to upset them or make them think she was ungrateful and

ready to strike out on her own.

“I see the media speculation surrounding your story has already died down,” Hunter said from

across the table, startling Stasia from her thoughts.

Uneasiness slipped through her. Was Hunter looking for a fight? She wasn’t quite sure how to

answer. “Thank goodness for Lindsay Lohan, no?”

Hunter chuckled, shot a glance in Claudia’s direction, who blinked at him. “We were just having

that conversation, as a matter of fact. Like mother, like daughter.”

Claudia beamed but remained silent.
“I didn’t mean for it to come out like it did,” Stasia started, but Rhett cut her off.
“It wasn’t your fault. Trust me, I know all about the media digging up your every secret,” he

muttered.

“Not that I wanted to keep it a secret. I’m not ashamed of my true heritage.” She’d come to that

realization last night as she drifted off to sleep in Gavin’s arms. Content for what felt like the first
time in years, the steady beat of her man’s heart soothing her, she was proud of the fact that Michael
Worth was her father. That Giorgio Renaldi was her father as well, had raised her and taught her
everything he knew.

A sort of peace had settled over her in that moment. Her poor father had been sad, felt betrayed and

had lashed out. He’d been irrational, sick, despondent. She let go of all the anger, the bitterness, the
hurt. She could forgive him.

She had to.
“We’re glad to hear it,” Hunter said, sounding the slightest bit amused. “It’s been rough on you, we

know.”

“It has been, but I’m better now. I appreciate the support from all of you.” Stasia glanced at her

brothers, her gaze landing on Alex, who sat at the head of the table. “The press release was perfect. It
answered all of their potential questions without revealing too much personal information.”

“That was the idea,” Alex said with a nod. “Though I must admit, I’m very pleased the paparazzi

has become occupied with someone else. I couldn’t have asked for a better diversion.”

Low laughter sounded across the table, sending a ripple of happiness through her. She couldn’t

believe it but already she felt like she belonged there. That these men had finally accepted her—
perhaps not fully but hopefully soon—filled her with a warmth she couldn’t deny.

After lunch, Tessa and the other women gathered the children and Stasia’s mother, escorting them

all out of the dining area, “So you can all talk privately for a moment,” Tessa suggested with a kind
smile.

Though Stasia appreciated the thought, she was dreadfully nervous. Her new brothers intimidated

her.

“Your mother is very nice,” Alex said when most everyone vacated the room. “I would like to

speak with her someday soon. I want to ask her about our father.”

“Oh.” Stasia sat up straighter. “What is it you want to know?”

“How long they were together, what their relationship was like. I don’t want the sordid details, it’s

just…this is a part of his life we didn’t even know existed.” The pained expression that swept over
Alex’s face for the briefest moment hurt Stasia as well. “It’s hard for me to fathom how he kept this
from us.”

“I don’t think he did it on purpose. From what my mother said, it was a whirlwind romance. And…

well. She was the wife of one of your father’s biggest rivals. I can see why he wanted to keep it quiet.
Besides, you were just a child.”

Alex nodded, his gaze locked on the table. Hunter and Rhett remained quiet, contemplative.

“Whenever she’s willing, I’d like to talk to Claudia.”

“I can arrange it. She plans on staying in New York for a while.” She’d convinced her mother to

remain here and create new memories. Word was Matteo planned on coming to New York soon with
his family and remain here indefinitely. It would mean Mama could be close to her grandson, which
thrilled her to pieces.

“I’m glad to hear it. Perhaps we could all...become closer,” Hunter said tentatively.
Stasia’s heart threatened to swell out of her chest it felt so full. “I must say, your acceptance of me

is rather surprising, especially after our last encounter.”

“My wife convinced me I was being an ass.” Hunter had the decency to look a trifle embarrassed.

“She reminded me that life’s too short and that you’re a part of our family whether I like it or not.”

Stasia smiled. She needed to give Gracie a big hug and a kiss later, before she left. “I’ve been

rather dramatic myself, and I apologize for my past hysterics.”

“It’s understandable.” Rhett shot her a warm smile from across the table. “You had every reason to

be upset.”

Tears threatened and she sniffed discreetly. No need for more hysterics. Her new brothers would

think her ridiculous.

“Hey, we’re just about to serve dessert.” Gabriella swept into the room, her easy smile making

Stasia smile in return. “That amazing chocolate cake Tessa makes from scratch. Are you guys done
talking? Or are you set on depriving us a little while longer?”

“Ah, leave it up to my wife to know how to diffuse a difficult situation with chocolate cake.” Alex

stood and approached Stasia, pulling out her chair so she could stand as well. “Come here, little
sister.”

He hugged her, his strong arms wound tight around her as he pulled her in. She pressed her face

against his chest, tears threatening to spill from the corner of her eyes and she squeezed them shut,
desperate not to fall to pieces.

But it was no use. The tears spilled down her cheeks as she withdrew from her older brother’s

embrace, her voice choked as she whispered, “Thank you.”

This is what she’d been searching for from the moment she’d heard the news that Giorgio Renaldi

wasn’t her father.

Acceptance.
Love.

“I’m calling to apologize. Don’t hang up,” Alex warned when Gavin reluctantly answered his cell.
“This ought to be good.” Gavin fell back against the pillows, watching with smug satisfaction when

Stasia curled up next to him, her eyes closed, a contented expression on her still-flushed face.

“I’m an ass and I’m sorry.” Alex’s voice lowered, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. “I

should’ve never said it would be best if you didn’t come to the lunch today. Stasia clearly missed

you.”

“Told you.” Now he was really feeling smug. There was no denying how strongly he and Stasia felt

for each other. Gavin was glad to know her newfound brother could finally see it. “You jump too
quickly to conclusions.”

“One of my greatest faults. Tessa has already berated me. I’m sure I’ll get an earful more when I

get off the phone.”

“You deserve every last bit of it.” Reaching out, Gavin toyed with a lock of Stasia’s hair, winding

it around his finger again and again. “Have a little more faith in me next time, my friend.”

“Sound advice,” Alex said, a trace of humor in his tone.
“Seriously, you’ll have to work for my forgiveness.” Gavin paused. “I heard there was homemade

chocolate cake involved.”

“There was.” Alex paused. “I could possibly convince my wife to send an entire cake to you as a

peace offering.”

“I’ll take it. But you better reward your wife properly for making another cake.” Hanging up the

phone, he set it on the bedside table and closed his eyes.

Stasia lifted her head to study him. “Did you hang up on Alexander Worth?”
“Sure did.” He kept his eyes closed, his lips curving into a smile. “He deserves it.”
“Yes. I suppose he does.” She rested her head on his chest, drew her fingers across his still

sensitive skin. Her hair tickled his face and he batted it away. “But why? What did he tell you?”

“That he was wrong.”
“Wrong about what? Don’t make me pry it out of you, Gavin.”
He opened his eyes, found her watching him expectantly. “I wanted to go with you today, to Alex’s.

But he called and asked me not to. Said that I might interfere with their wishes to talk to you. I think he
was afraid I’d lawyer up.”

“Oh.” Sighing, she pressed her cheek to his pec. “I wish you would’ve been there. But I understand

why he did it.”

“You do?” He was surprised. Figured she would be upset.
“Yes.” She nodded, her soft hair rubbing against his flesh. Arousal pulsed through him and he

pushed it down. Would he ever get enough of her? “He was being protective of me.”

“True.” He smoothed his hand over her head, his fingers threading through the silky strands.
“Though I hope Alex understands what you mean to me,” she said, her voice hushed.
“And what do I mean to you?” His heart stalled in his chest.
She lifted her head, her expression slumberous, her eyes heated. “You mean everything to me.”
Lifting his head, he kissed her. She opened to him, her tongue sliding against his and just like that,

he wanted her.

Desperately.
“You mean everything to me too,” he murmured against her lips when he broke the kiss. “I promise

to never take Alex’s advice again.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go to that extreme.” She laughed. “Just…consult with me first.”
“As your attorney?”
“As my partner.” She smiled, gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, right.”
“Well, in bed, I do.” She sent him a saucy wink.
“So if I tell you to get on your hands and knees right now, you’d do it?” His cock came to life at the

mere suggestion.

Pulling away from him, she got into position, wagging her heart-shaped ass back and forth,

practically in his face. “I’m ready for you.”

Jesus. Without hesitation he went to his knees, wrapped his hands about her hips and rubbed his

erection against her plush backside. “I shouldn’t want to do this. We’ve been at it for hours.”

“You feel pretty ready.” She brushed against him, his cock sliding between her cheeks. “I’m only

doing what you asked me to do.”

He grabbed the base of his cock and slid inside her easily. She was still wet from their earlier

encounter, hot and tight and he groaned as he sank deep. “Damn, you feel good.”

She moved with him, slowly at first until she became downright frantic, bouncing against him, high-

pitched whimpers escaping her with his every thrust. He grabbed her hips tight, holding her still as he
pushed inside her again and again, driving them both straight into orgasmic oblivion.

They collapsed onto the mattress, sweaty skin and limbs tangled, heavy pants and shivery skin.

Pushing the damp hair away from her forehead, he kissed her there, letting his lips linger. “Love you,”
he murmured.

She snuggled close. “I love you too. Pervert.”
“I happen to like perverts.” She’d said that to him not too long ago.
Smiling, she kissed him. “So do I,” she whispered.

Chapter Nineteen

Six months later

“You certainly know how to throw a party.”
Stasia turned to find Rhett and Gabriella standing before her, both of them smiling, so beautiful in

their evening finery. “I’m so glad you could make it tonight.” She hugged them both.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ella said as they drew apart from each other. “So many people

are here.”

“I know.” Nerves bounced in her stomach as she glanced around. “I hope we don’t run out of

champagne.”

“Perish the thought. Especially since we have so much to celebrate tonight.” Rhett grabbed Ella’s

left hand and waved it around, the brilliant sparkle unmistakable.

“Wait a minute.” Stasia grabbed Ella’s hand, gasping when she saw the giant diamond glittering on

her ring finger. She looked at Rhett. “Oh my God, you finally asked her.”

Rhett grinned. “I did.”
Ella blushed and leaned against him. “He did.”
“I’m so happy for you.” She wrapped her arms around both of them as best she could, squeezing

them tight. “Congratulations.”

“Hey now, this is your night.” Rhett extracted himself from Stasia’s grip. “We can properly

celebrate our good news later.”

“Tessa is planning a huge engagement party. Considering she believes herself responsible for our

getting together and all.” Ella rolled her eyes and laughed.

Stasia smiled, suddenly feeling wistful. They were such a wonderful couple and so perfect for each

other. She could almost be jealous of them.

Almost.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Gavin appeared at her side, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling

her in close. “You two look a little too happy.”

“They’re officially engaged,” Stasia told him.
“Ah, congrats. That’s awesome.” Reaching out, Gavin shook Rhett’s hand, then released his hold

on Stasia so he could give Ella a quick hug. “When’s the date?”

“We haven’t made it yet. One step at a time, you know?” Rhett tugged at his collar, looking a little

nervous, which made them all laugh.

“I understand, man,” Gavin said in sympathy, turning to Stasia. “You’re supposed to speak in ten

minutes. Let’s get you closer to the stage.”

They said their goodbyes, and she let Gavin lead her to where the stage was set up at the other side

of the room. The place was crowded, people stopping her as they walked past, eager to talk about her
new jewelry line, exclaiming over particular pieces and offering their general congratulations.

Stasia had never been so excited—or nervous.
“They love you,” Gavin murmured close to her ear when they stopped at the foot of the stage. “I

knew they would.”

“They might not love me after I make a fool of myself in front of everyone.” She pulled her hand

from his and rubbed her clammy palms together. She was a wreck. It was one thing to play at home
and design jewelry for herself and her friends and family or to consult on lines, as she’d been doing
when she was with Renaldi.

It was quite another to put all of those pieces on public display and sell them to the world.
Thankfully, Matteo and Rafe helped finance her fine jewelry line, separate from Renaldi

Accessories. And Worth Luxury had featured her work with their latest collection, selling limited
edition pieces in their stores. Her jewelry was designed in fourteen-karat gold, delicate, fanciful
pieces that appeared fragile. Dainty. But they were stronger than they looked.

Much like their creator, Gavin had teased her more than once.
“You’re going to be amazing. Have faith in yourself.” He kissed her. A deep, delicious kiss that

made her toes curl, her head spin. When he finally broke away, a satisfied smile curved his lips and
the sight of it weakened her knees. “I think Rhett and Ella are on to something.”

She frowned. “What?”
“Their engagement. It’s not a bad idea.”
“What’s not a bad idea?” She was confused, still a little dazed after that delicious kiss.
He rolled his eyes. “Getting married.”
Realization dawned. “If this is your way of asking me to marry you, you’re doing a terrible job of

it.”

“That’s because you don’t make it easy.” He shook his head, lifting his gaze to study the stage. “I

think they’re ready for you.”

Turning, she found Alex gesturing for her to come up onto the stage. “I guess I should go.” She

pointed at Gavin. “But you’re not off the hook.”

He held his hands up in front of him, chuckling when she shoved at his broad shoulder before

walking on stage.

Alex waited for her with a smile, looking extraordinarily handsome in his formal suit. Their

relationship had healed and was now forging into new territory—working together. She admired
Alex’s business acumen, his sharp intelligence and innovative ideas. Fortunately, Alex and Matteo
worked well together, though Matt had been distracted lately, what with Lucia’s mysterious illness.
No one knew what was wrong with his wife, but thankfully, Alex stepped in where he could.

Slowly but surely, she was forging a bond between both of her families.
She nervously clutched her hands together while Alex introduced her and her jewelry line. Smiled

when he said such kind things about her designs, blushed when he took it even more personal and said
what a blessing it was to have her in his life. How fortunate he and his brothers were to call her their
sister.

If he’d kept talking, she might have cried. Thank goodness, he stopped.
Sniffling discreetly, Stasia took the mic from him and once the crowd stopped applauding, she

began to talk.

“I want to thank you all for coming here tonight and celebrating the launch of my new jewelry line

with me. I wish my brothers were with me this evening, but Rafael and Vincenzo are in Italy at the
moment, and Matteo had a family emergency which prevented him from attending. They are truly
missed.

“I want to thank my new brothers Alex, Hunter and Rhett, for their encouraging support.” She

smiled when she heard Rhett give a shout of approval. “And I want to thank the women in their lives.
Tessa, Gracie and Gabriella, for being such wonderful friends and loving sisters of my heart.”

Pausing, she gazed out at the crowd, saw everyone watching her with smiles on their faces. She

was in a room full of support, of love and acceptance and her heart felt incredibly full. She glanced
down, saw Gavin standing front and center, his eyes sparkling, his expression full of pride. Love
flowed through her, warm and pure, and she suddenly knew what she had to do.

“But most of all, I want to thank Gavin for picking me up when I was down, for encouraging me no

matter what and for loving me through the good times and the bad.” His gaze met hers and she choked
back the tears that threatened. “You are my everything. I love you so much and I want you to be in my
life forever.”

Gavin tilted his head, a little furrow forming between his brows. “Stasia?” he mouthed.
She nodded, a single tear winding a damp path down her cheek. “Will you marry me, Gavin?”
The entire crowd erupted in applause and laughter, more than a few people yelling for an answer,

including Rhett, who hollered at the top of his lungs. She stood on the stage, still alone, feeling
incredibly vulnerable, waiting for a reaction from Gavin.

Her man appeared more than a little stunned.
“Gavin.” She waved her hand at him, handing the mic to an equally shocked Alex who stood

nearby. “Don’t leave me up here alone.”

Snapping out of it, he grinned and ran up to join her on stage, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to

the back of it. “You stole my thunder, baby,” he murmured. “Shouldn’t I be the one who asks you to
marry me?”

She laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You were botching it up pretty bad earlier.”
“It was my first go-around. You have to give a guy a break.” Slowly, he pulled her in closer, until

she was in his arms, his hand cupping the back of her head as he tilted his face to hers. “I can’t
believe you did this.”

“You need to give me an answer.” She pointed at the crowd, who were still clapping and yelling

their encouragement. “Don’t embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“Never.” He kissed her. Another one of those bone-melting, brain cell stealing kisses and she

wrapped her hands around his neck, held on for dear life until finally he lifted his head and smiled at
the crowd. Alex offered the mic, which Gavin took. “My answer is yes.”

The shouts started anew, white and gold balloons falling from a net attached to the ceiling. Stasia

laughed and shook her head, clinging to Gavin as if she would never let him go. “Where did the
balloons come from?” she asked Alex.

Alex shrugged. “Tessa wanted to do it. Now I’m glad she did.” He turned to the crowd. “This

moment calls for champagne.”

The waiters scurried madly, the guests crowded the front of the stage but Stasia didn’t care. She

could only stare into the eyes of the man she loved.

“You surprise me on a daily basis,” Gavin whispered close to her ear, then kissed her neck, his

lips hot.

She shivered and smiled, nestled her face close to his. “That’s a good thing right?”
Pulling away, he studied her, his mouth curved in that sexy smile she adored, his green eyes

glowing. “It’s definitely a good thing.”

About the Author

Karen Erickson has always loved the written word. From being one of the best readers in her

kindergarten class to penning romantic stories that never ended about her favorite band members
(Duran Duran) in high school, she always wanted to write. It just took her a while to seriously pursue
it.

With the birth of her third child came a realization—it’s one thing to talk about writing a book,

another thing entirely to actually do it. She’s been published since 2006.

Karen’s a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite with her husband, three

children, one dog and too many cats.

To learn more about Karen, visit her online:

www.karenerickson.com

Blog: karenerickson.blogspot.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/karenericksonwritesromance

Twitter: www.twitter.com/karenerickson

Look for these titles by Karen Erickson

Now Available:

Spontaneous

Jesse’s Girl

Fortune

Fortune’s Deception

Fortune’s Promise

Fortune’s Chance

Playing with Fire

Forbidden

Tangled

Scandalous

Notorious

Fated

Under My Umbrella

Baby, Don’t Lose My Number

Simple Twist of Fate

Tahoe Nights

My Favorite Mistake

End of Days

Neon Chaos

Worth It

Worth the Scandal

Worth the Risk

Worth the Challenge

Print Anthologies

Midsummer Night’s Steam: Hot Summer Nights

Luck of the Draw
Playing with Fire

Tahoe Nights

Coming Soon:

The Renaldis

Temporary Arrangement

Tempted by Her Boss

Kidnapping His Bride

Print Anthologies

Playing With Fire 2

Together, they’re magic. Now to capture it in a bottle…

Worth the Challenge

© 2012 Karen Erickson

Worth It, Book 3
For once in his errant life, Rhett Worth is ready to prove to his older brothers he’s more than good

looks and a woman-melting smile. Except he’s screwed up. And it’s about to hit the fan as he
prepares to tell them he’s failed to deliver the master perfumer, Michel Durand, to create Worth
Luxury’s signature scent.

Then salvation walks through the boardroom door, all wrapped up in a petite, seductive package.
Gabriella Durand is prepared to beg the Worths to give her capricious father another chance.

Instead, she finds the devastatingly handsome Rhett Worth offering it to her as if he’d planned it all
along. And Gabriella, hungry to emerge from her father’s shadow, jumps at it.

Soon they’re in Maui to hunt for the perfect scent…and find it in the tropical breeze that washes

across their entwined bodies. Now the pressure is on to capture that passion in a bottle—before they
let love complicate the delicate mix. Before a whiff of betrayal threatens to destroy everything.

Warning: The last of the Worth brothers, he’s the wildest one of all. Expect lots of challenges,

much yearning, plenty of vulnerabilities revealed—and lots of macho Alpha behavior on the hero’s
part. Don’t worry, though. He’ll be begging for the heroine’s love before the end, we guarantee it.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Worth the Challenge:

He liked her laugh. She didn’t hold back. Let it burst forth in all of its joyful glory. He’d been

stunned when he first saw her, her transformation was that dramatic. New hairstyle, new clothing, she
wore makeup…

Studying her a little more closely, he realized the cosmetics were lightly applied, merely

emphasizing her beauty rather than making it. The outfit flattered her slender figure and the haircut
was a mere trim, controlling what he’d once thought of as unruly.

Tessa had polished a diamond in the rough. And now she shone so bright, Rhett was more than a

little dazzled.

They’d gone to a pizza joint close by, each of them ordering a giant slice and a soda. They sat side

by side at the crowded counter, too busy eating to talk and besides, the place was too loud, it was so
packed with customers.

Plus it gave him time to think. Muddle over what he was doing, how risky his behavior was.

Buying new clothes for Gabriella, spending time with her that had nothing to do with work, it wasn’t
smart.

Yet he didn’t want to stop.
“I studied the brief,” she suddenly said.
Glancing in her direction, he watched as she wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. Her

slice of pizza was gone—she’d consumed it almost as fast as he’d eaten his. “The brief?”

She nodded slowly, took a sip of her soda. “The one you gave me?”
Hell. He looked like an idiot. “So what did you think?” In the industry, “the brief” was a sort of

written concept, what they believed the perfume should be about. He’d included notes, thoughts and
even a few photos, not really knowing what he was doing.

He hoped she wouldn’t trash it. Tell him he was out of his mind.

“I liked your ideas. I’m excited to tour the island and get a sense of what you’re trying to capture.”

The serene smile she gave him was like a punch to the gut, stealing the very breath from him.

He turned toward her, his knees colliding with hers for the briefest moment. Lust streaked through

him, even with such an impersonal touch but he tried to ignore it. “I’m glad you liked it. I have a lot of
plans for when we get there.”

She arched a delicate brow. “A lot of plans? I can’t wait to get started.”
“I bet,” he murmured, double meaning behind his words.
They stared at each other silently, the buzz of conversation surrounding them muting to a dull roar.

All he could see, focus on, was her. The depths of her pretty blue eyes, the slight upward curl of her
lips, the scent of her, clean and sweet even in the crowded, smelly restaurant. An undercurrent passed
between them, thick with promise, heady with pleasure, and he cleared his throat. She blinked at the
sound, as if he had startled her.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmured.
“All right.”
She hopped down from the stool and he followed, placing his hand low on her back, guiding her

out of the restaurant. They emerged into the stifling night air, the sounds of the city extra loud, and he
glanced down at her, catching her gaze.

“Do you mind walking to the hotel?”
“Is the walk as far as the last time we tried this?” The amusement in her tone was unmistakable.
He chuckled. “Much, much shorter, I promise. We’re two, maybe three blocks from the hotel at the

most.”

“That’s doable.”
They walked side by side in silence and for some inexplicable reason, he wanted to reach out and

grab her hand. Pull her with him down the street, into the hotel, the elevator, her room.

Where he would push her against the wall and kiss her. A real kiss this time, with tongues and heat

and soft little moans. He would race his hands all over that slender body, cup her breasts, caress her
skin, grind against her until she was panting and begging for it.

Sweat misted his forehead and he tried his best to push the wicked imagery from his brain.
But it was no use. The idea was there, front and center, and his fingers literally itched to take hers.

Lace them together, stroke the top of her hand with his thumb. He’d never wanted to be so connected
to a woman before in his life.

He recalled the night in the taxi, the way she’d touched his thigh. She’d wanted him then and had let

him know it, albeit shyly. She hadn’t made a move whatsoever tonight.

Disappointment threatened and he told himself to shove it deep. He was being an idiot. This

woman who wasn’t his usual sort was destroying his brain cells and common sense, bit by bit.

“There’s the hotel.” Her soft voice broke through his lusty thoughts and he glanced up, saw the

Warwick Hotel in the near distance. “Thank you so much for walking me here.”

“Want me to walk you up to your room?”
She turned her head so sharply in his direction, he was afraid she’d give herself whiplash. “Do you

think that’s a good idea?”

Christ, yes, he wanted to say. “I’m not going to push myself on you, Gabriella, if that’s what you’re

afraid of.”

“Of course, I’m not afraid of you.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I’ve never instilled fear in a woman before. I’m the nicer brother of the

three.”

“I heard you’re the bad brother.” She clamped her lips shut, her eyes going wide.
He stopped in front of the hotel and so did she. Great. So she knew about his past? But then again,

who didn’t? “My reputation always precedes me.”

She cocked her head to the side, contemplating him. “You’re actually quite the gentleman.”
If she was referring to the other night, she didn’t know how much it took for him to use such

restraint. Normally he would’ve jumped her. Hell, he would’ve had his hand up her skirt and his
fingers beneath the front of her panties by the time the cab stopped at their destination.

“I’m trying to walk the straight and narrow,” he said, his voice tight, his jaw aching from gritting

his teeth.

“Really?” She tsked and shook her head. “Well, isn’t that a shame?”
Gabriella turned on her heel and entered the hotel, not once looking back.
And leaving Rhett in the dust.

He’ll be any man she wants—except himself.

Big Boy

© 2013 Ruthie Knox

A Strangers on a Train Story
Meet me at the train museum after dark. Dress for 1957.
When Mandy joins an online dating service, she keeps her expectations low. All she wants is a

distraction from the drudgery of single parenthood and full-time work. But the invitation she receives
from a handsome man who won’t share his real name promises an adventure—and a chance to
pretend she’s someone else for a few hours.

She doesn’t want romance to complicate her life, but Mandy’s monthly role-playing dates with her

stranger on a train—each to a different time period—become the erotic escape she desperately needs.
And a soul connection she never expected.

Yet when she tries to draw her lover out of the shadows, Mandy has a fight on her hands…to

convince him there’s a place for their fantasy love in the light of day.

Warning: Contains sexy role-playing, theatrical application of coal dust, and a hero who can

rock a pair of brown polyester pants.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Big Boy:

He always meets me at the gate. The chain link swings open, and I pull my car through at a crawl. I

don’t look to the left where he’s standing. I don’t want to know who he is yet.

Until I step onto the train, he’s nobody special.

“Are my seams straight?” I ask, pausing in my walk so I can tip the arch of my foot toward the floor

of the train car and point my toe. I glance over my shoulder, the epitome of coy.

I’m Marilyn Monroe from Some Like It Hot tonight. I coaxed Lisa into sewing the black satin dress

for me, adding fringe from a flapper costume I found at Goodwill. Lisa says that in this dress, my ass
looks like two puppies fighting under a blanket.

The banked fire in his eyes tells me that’s a good thing.
He wears a leather jacket and a newsboy cap. He carries my luggage. When we get to my berth, I’ll

tip him, and he’ll smirk at me the way he does.

Rocky is his name. I asked when I handed him my hatbox.
He’s five or six inches taller than me, his body lean and sculpted by hard work. I bet he looks

grand with his clothes off.

I toss him a smile, another form of gratuity. “Well? Are they?”
He shakes his head as if I’m doing something to him, and it’s painful, and he’d like me to stop. But

all he says is “They’re straight, ma’am.”

I’m ma’am tonight. I like that.
I think it means I’ll get to be in charge, but I’m wrong.
As soon as we pass through the narrow doorway of the berth, he’s on me, his hands spanning my

waist, sliding over the curve of my hips. His skin catches the slick material of my dress. He puts his
lips on the pulse at my throat and lingers there. I hear him draw in a deep breath, reverent.

I missed you too.
And then his mouth is moving down, down, until he reaches the tightly cosseted swell of my

breasts.

“Stop me if you’re gonna stop me, lady.”
I want to lift my leg up and wrap it around his hip, but I can’t lift anything. I’m wearing a garment

designed for mincing around. I know, because I designed it.

“You’re awfully fresh.” I can feel the smile on his lips as they brush my nipple through the satin.

The tease.

“You married, ma’am?” He addresses the question to my cleavage.
“You care?”
“I don’t truck with married women.” He lifts his head to tell me this, his hound-dog eyes all soulful

and dark. He’s lost the cap. I see it on the floor where our feet have tangled together, Glen-check
wool next to beat-up cordovan oxfords and two-tone pumps with bows on the toes.

I spent days finding the right shoes.
“A cad with principles.” I furrow my fingers through his hair. He’s slicked it back, but I loosen it. I

like it falling in his eyes. “That’s rich.”

“Who says I’m a cad?”
He squeezes my ass, his long fingers pressing close to where I want them but not close enough.
“Jeez, fella,” I say on an exhale, dropping my head to the wall behind me and letting my eyes drift

closed. “I sure as hell hope you’re a cad.”

I imagine the vibration of the train in the wall behind my back as he peels the satin off my shoulders

and puts his mouth on me. As he drops to his knees and pushes the dress up my hips. The fringe ought
to be an impediment, but he’s the sort of man who can handle a little fringe.

He’s not a cad, though. Not really.

The babysitter is sick, and I hate her.
This makes me a bad person, I know. She sounds so pathetic on the phone, frog-voiced and snotty,

and I’m supposed to comfort her. It feels like emotional blackmail. Why do I have to be nice to her
when she’s ruining my day?

“I can still come if you want me to.” She means I want to stay in bed and watch reruns of bad

television. “I just don’t want to get Josh sick.” Only a very bad mother would expose her child to
this pestilence. A very bad, very selfish mother.

I’m not a bad mother. Not usually. But there’s no room in my life for sick babysitters. I have to

teach in forty minutes, and I haven’t done my class prep yet. I have office hours afterward, meetings
with nine separate students to talk about papers they haven’t started thinking about writing. I have a
dissertation chapter to finish if I’m going to manage not to get fired when I come up for my contract
renewal in the fall.

Sometimes Josh gets the short end of the stick, but I console myself with the thought that I get it a lot

more often.

I’m not a bad person. On the other hand, I’m not such a good one that I’m going to tell my babysitter

to stay home. This will be a life lesson for her: Don’t say yes when you mean no.

Maybe if I’d learned that lesson sooner, I’d have told my sister no when she asked me if she could

put me in her will as her children’s guardian. Then, when Paige and her husband and my three-year-
old niece, Ava, got killed by a drunk driver, I wouldn’t have become the mother of a nine-day-old
infant.

But if I’d done that, I wouldn’t have Josh now, and not having Josh has become inconceivable.
Sweet as pie, I ask the babysitter, “Why don’t you come on over? He has a strong immune system.

If you feel really crappy, you can show him cartoons.”

Of course, Josh gets sick the next day.
He sleeps badly, waking up every hour and calling for me. I set up a humidifier in his room, rub his

back and soothe him to sleep, but by the third time he wakes, I’ve given up on the idea of getting any
sleep myself. I rock him in my arms for hours, singing folk songs when he gets fussy.

He tucks his head against my neck, breathing warm against my skin, and I feel so guilty. So

inadequate.

I should’ve canceled my office hours and stayed home with him. I should put him in daycare, but I

can’t afford it. My salary is pitiable, and I have loans to pay off. So I make do with a couple of
babysitters, telling myself he’s better off at home, spending as much time as possible with me.

But when I’m at home with him, I’m a distracted mother, always trying to get away with as much

work or as much cleaning as I can. He wants nothing but me—my attention, my love—and I want to
give it to him, only I want so many other things too.

When Paige and I were kids, we both thought we’d have big families one day. I imagined a husband

and three children, every little girl’s version of domestic bliss. Then I went to college, and I spent the
summer after my sophomore year as a camp counselor in Colorado. The job was relentless. Cabins
full of eight-year-olds for three weeks at a stretch. They never stopped needing me for one second. I
felt like I was suffocating.

That’s when I decided I wasn’t cut out to be a mother. I was always the better student, anyway. I

focused on school and let Paige focus on motherhood. She found her husband, her scrapbooking
group, her happy domesticity. I went to grad school and fooled around in an unserious way with
unserious boys.

I pet Josh’s back, breathing against the solid weight of his sleeping body pressing into my neck, my

breasts, my belly. I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

I want him to have everything, but all he has is me.

Lisa’s students call her Lisa. Mine call me Professor Sharp. I suspect this is no mere accident. I’m

a nice person but a hard grader. I kick them out of my classroom for texting, and I tell them things
about Indian nations and white-male privilege that disturb their comfortable worldviews.

My students walk into my classroom expecting odes to the American frontier and walk out

disgusted with their ancestors, incapable of waving a flag or watching a Fourth of July parade without
deconstructing it.

Some of them dislike me for this, but the best ones love having their eyes opened. They sit in my

office and wax enthusiastic about prejudice and abuse, nattering on about how the readings I’ve
assigned them have recast the way they look at everything.

I used to be like them. It’s hard to remember now, but that sort of critical idealism is what got me

into grad school in the first place. These days, I fill my grocery-store cart up with packaged baby
foods and state-government-subsidized milk, and it’s harder to get fired up about any of it. The
condition of my bank account and Josh’s diaper seem to be about all the worries I can handle.

I’m a professor of American Studies at the University of Wisconsin–Green Bay, the most recent

hire in an abysmal job market. I got the job three months before I got Josh. I was packing up to move
when Paige died and everything changed.

Now I’m in my second year in Green Bay, and I like it well enough. It’s the sort of place people

don’t move away from, which means I’ll be an outsider even if I live here until I die. Which I might.

There are pitifully few jobs in my field, and I hadn’t liked being on the market. So many sharks
fighting over so little chum.

I’m Mandy to my friends, Amanda to my mother when she calls, which is not all that often. She

lives in Oregon, and she’s mourning Paige’s death with long stretches of silence and solo camping
trips that worry me. I’ve tried to talk her into relocating to Wisconsin so we can have each other for
company and she can help me with Josh. She says she needs the quiet and the high desert to heal.

Josh calls me Mama, which is my favorite name. I love him with a ferocity that scares me. I once

made myself retch thinking about what would happen if he died in a plane crash or got sick or abused.

But having a baby is like having a bad boyfriend. Josh will kiss me one minute and smack me in the

face with a sharp-edged block the next. If he could talk, he’d say, I need you, Mama. I need you so
bad.

It wears me out, being needed.
Lisa calls me a martyr and tells me to stop trying to save everybody and take care of myself.
I do, I tell her. I do.
But it’s not exactly true. One night a month, I let somebody else take care of me.

Worth Everything

Karen Erickson

Can two lost souls find their way to love?

Worth It, Book 4
Anastasia Renaldi’s life is a complete lie. Disinherited from the family fashion-accessory business

and informed she’s the illegitimate daughter of the famous—and long-dead—Michael Worth of Worth
Luxury, she has no one to turn to. No real family, no job, no identity to claim. Lost and confused, she
turns to the one man who can help her obtain what is rightfully hers.

Attorney Gavin Westmore is hired to discover the truth. Does Stasia Renaldi have a stake to claim

in the Worth empire? From the moment he meets her, Gavin knows what sort of woman Stasia is.
Calculating, devious—she won’t let anything or anyone get in the way of her pursuit of a fortune. As
long as he can collect his generous fee, he’s fine with it.

But Gavin soon discovers his perception of Stasia is wrong. She truly is confused, a sweet,

ambitious woman who wants what rightfully belongs to her. Soon they’re spending lots of time
together—and it goes beyond the attorney/client type meetings. The only question is, after untangling
the web of lies to get to the truth, whether there will be any room left for love.

Warning: A secret Worth sister? Yes, indeed. Not only will you catch a glimpse of all those

delicious Worth brothers one last time, you’ll get to know their sweet, feisty sister—and the man
who’ll tame her. All in the name of love.

e Books are not transfe rable .

The y cannot be sold, share d or give n away as it is an infringe me nt on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used

fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is

entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

Worth Everything

Copyright © 2013 by Karen Erickson

ISBN: 978-1-61921-297-8

Edited by Amy Sherwood

Cover by Angela Waters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except

in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

electronic publication: February 2013

www.samhainpublishing.com

Table of Contents

Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author
Look for these titles by Karen Erickson
Also Available from Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Copyright Page

Table of Contents

Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
About the Author
Look for these titles by Karen Erickson
Also Available from Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Copyright Page