If the Ring Fits... Read online

  “I haven’t given the idea much thought,” Rachel replied honestly. Even so, she knew immediately that it was not the right answer.

  “Yet you already know you want children. Will you be having those without the benefit of a wedding ring and the support of a husband?”

  “Oh. I—”

  “Have not given it much thought?” Lucia did not look convinced.

  Rachel thought she knew why. She decided to reassure the older woman that she had no designs on her son.

  “I’ve decided it’s best to concentrate on my career right now. You know, Tony has been a valued client of mine over the years, and he believes I can expand my design business. He’s agreed to help me in that regard.”

  “So, your relationship with Tony is business.”

  “Yes. That’s all.”

  “That is all?” Lucia turned Rachel’s statement into a question.

  “Well, we are friends, too, which I guess is obvious since I’m staying here while my apartment is being renovated and he is away.”

  “Ah, yes. Friends.” Lucia nodded. “You are special, then.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You are the only friend of Tony’s that I know who is a woman.”

  “Really? I had no idea.”

  Rachel was left with the distinct impression Lucia didn’t believe her. But somehow she must have managed to pass maternal muster because three hours later, when the older woman pulled on her coat to leave, she said to Rachel, “You will come to my home for Thanksgiving if you have no other plans. Tony will not be there, unfortunately. But you come.”

  “Thank you for the invitation. I’m having dinner with my mom and sister.”

  Lucia was not the sort of woman who took no for an answer, however.

  “Just for dessert, then. I will give you my recipe for tiramisu. It is Tony’s favorite. As his friend I think you should learn how to make it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THREE weeks passed. They dragged by, actually. Tony was going to be away for far longer before this trip was done. But for the first time in years, he felt restless to return to the States—Michigan in particular, since his family was there. It was approaching the holidays, he told himself. They made him nostalgic, which was why he’d already made plans to fly in for Christmas, stay for the day, and then fly back out. He had a meeting in New York the following day. New Year’s Eve would find him in Rome at the annual party of a business colleague and friend.

  His mother would never forgive him if he missed a second big family dinner. As it was, he had yet to hear the end of it for being absent on Thanksgiving Day.

  Rachel had been there, not for the actual meal but for dessert. She’d dropped by at his mother’s invitation—command was more like it. Lucia was hard to say no to. She had told Tony all about Rachel’s visit during a phone call later that same night, waking him up a full two hours before his alarm was set to go off. His sister, meanwhile, had sent a detailed email the following day.

  “She’s nice. I like her, Tony,” Ava had concluded in the letter. “And so does Mama.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t want his sister and mother growing attached to Rachel, even though he was growing attached to her, too. Mysteries and challenges intrigued him, he assured himself. That was her appeal. And the knowledge that he could help her professionally.

  So, to keep the restlessness at bay, he’d been putting out feelers as well as calling in favors to see Rachel’s design career properly launched. And he’d decided to bankroll some of her immediate expenses. Tonight, he was having dinner with Daphne Valero at one of his favorite restaurants in Rome. He’d had business dealings with Daphne in the past, as well as one very memorable personal interlude in Paris a few years earlier before she became the head of her family’s perfume empire.

  La Fleur Fragrances was based in her mother’s native France, but also had offices in Rome, which was where her father had been born. The company was one of the Fortuna Publishing Group’s most valued advertisers both in the United States and in editions of its magazines abroad. The company’s signature scent, Simply Timeless, packaged as it was in a distinctive hourglass-shaped bottle, was carried in the most exclusive department stores and boutiques around the globe. Rachel would be targeting a similarly well-heeled clientele. To Tony’s way of thinking, perfume and jewelry went hand in hand. Those who bought high-end fragrances also bought high-end jewelry.

  Besides, Daphne adored jewelry, and as the heiress to a perfume empire, her likeness often wound up between the covers of magazines such as his, right along with the advertisements for La Fleur Fragrances. She wasn’t only a businesswoman. She set trends. It would be a boon for Rachel if such an influential international fashion icon were to be seen and photographed wearing her designs.

  “Tony!”

  Daphne gave him an enthusiastic kiss on both cheeks when she arrived at the restaurant. He’d suggested meeting there, well aware of where the aperitif she had suggested in her invitation to cocktails at her apartment might lead.

  “You look as lovely as ever,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.

  It was no empty compliment. Daphne was a beautiful woman, stylish and sleek, with a body whose curves could be every bit as dangerous as those of a racetrack. There was a time when he would have been eager to take those curves for a drive. But not this evening.

  “I was happy to receive your message. It has been so long.” Her voice grew huskier. “Much too long.”

  “Will you still be happy to see me if we discuss a bit of business?” he asked.

  She left that open by replying, “It depends.”

  When the wine steward came by, he ordered a bottle of Piper Heidsieck.

  “Are we celebrating?” Daphne asked.

  He offered a careless shrug. “Do we need a reason to drink champagne?”

  “None that I can think of.” Her smile turned feline then. “Perhaps you are trying to ply me with alcohol so that you might take advantage of me later.”

  “I am too much of a gentleman for that.”

  “More’s the pity.”

  They chatted a little bit about the changes his magazines—and the entire publishing world—were undergoing. Then he asked after her father, who had suffered a stroke the previous year. Tony waited until after their appetizer arrived to bring Rachel into their conversation.

  “That is a lovely bracelet you are wearing.”

  “You like?” Daphne fussed with the clasp. “It belonged to my late grandmother.”

  “Some pieces are timeless. I know a designer whose jewelry would appeal to someone with your good taste.”

  “Is that so?” Daphne selected a piece of bruschetta. “Who?”

  “She is largely unknown at this point.”

  “But you are hoping to change that,” Daphne guessed.

  “I am. She has designed several pieces for me in the past. I have always believed that her work deserved a larger forum, but at the time…” He shrugged. “She had other commitments.”

  “Is her work truly that good?”

  “It is. I would not keep going back to her otherwise.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  Tony took a bite of his bruschetta in lieu of answering the question. After swallowing, he said, “Do you remember the necklace that Astrid was wearing at the after party in Milan last week?” He was betting Daphne did, since she’d stopped Astrid to admire it. At her nod, he said, “That was Rachel’s.”

  Daphne puckered her lips. “I find myself a little jealous that we’ve never had a full-blown affair, Tony. I think I would have liked your parting gift.”

  He smiled. “So, you think she has talent, too.”

  “What I think is that it is a shame all I have to show from our one night together are some very erotic memories.” She laughed, the same throaty sound he remembered from the evening in question. Then she grew serious. “It was a lovely piece. And cleverly designed with the way she set the aquamarine
in fish-shaped prongs for Pisces.”

  “Yes. A bit of whimsy intended to pay homage to Astrid’s interest in the zodiac.”

  “What exactly is it that you are you after, Tony?”

  “Not much, really.” He lifted his shoulders. “Someone who could help open doors for her. Rachel can do the rest.”

  Daphne pursed her lips. “And you think I can open those doors?”

  “You are being modest. Beyond being a savvy businesswoman, you are very influential, Daphne. The kind of woman other women look to. You set the trends that the masses then follow.”

  “Is that the best you can do with your flattery?” But he could tell that, in addition to being flattered and amused, she was intrigued.

  During the remainder of their meal, Tony laid out his idea for a publicity campaign that he believed would be mutually beneficial to Rachel and Daphne.

  “One complements the other. Fine jewelry and a carefully crafted fragrance.” He poured more champagne into her flute before lifting his own glass for what he hoped would be a pre-celebratory sip.

  “And you are willing to give us discounted advertising space in Moorings,” she said, referring to the Fortuna-owned magazine that appealed to the yachting set.

  “I am. You have been a valued client.”

  Daphne’s lips twitched, but then she asked, “Does she have a portfolio that I can see? As a savvy businesswoman, I cannot be expected to merely take your word.”

  “She is working on the portfolio now.” If she wasn’t, she would be as soon as Tony made a phone call. Daphne studied the bubbles in her flute. “I would like to meet her.”

  Much like the bubbles in the champagne, Tony felt excitement rise at her words. He told himself it was because his plan was coming together. His objective for the evening was met. That was the only reason he was feeling so elated.

  “When?”

  “I will be in New York for ten days starting next Wednesday. Can you arrange an introduction? Say on Friday evening?”

  “Would Saturday be out of the question?”

  Daphne pursed her lips again. “Because it is you asking, I will agree to Saturday.”

  “Grazie mille.”

  Dinner progressed, though it took longer to wind up than Tony expected. Of course, everything took longer in Italy. The country ran on its own time. Generally, that was how he liked it. He preferred to linger over each course and finish off the meal with espresso. Not this evening. This evening he was eager to call Rachel. Eager to give her the news. Eager simply to hear her voice.

  That thought brought him up short.

  As did Daphne’s parting words an hour later as they stood outside the restaurant waiting for her limousine to arrive.

  “I am curious to meet your little designer friend, Tony. Not only to see her work, but to see the woman who has you so eager to please her.”

  “That is not the way of things,” he replied on a laugh.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  But Daphne looked as convinced as he felt.

  * * *

  For the past few weeks, Christmas sales had been keeping Rachel busy at the shop, as was overseeing the renovations upstairs. Construction work had slowed down considerably as the holidays approached. She tried not to worry about the delays, even when Will Daniels came down to her office the day before to report that a family emergency had prompted a city worker to reschedule the electrical inspection slated for the following Tuesday. Now, the inspection would have to be put off until after the first of the year. Until the work passed inspection, they could not begin to hang the drywall. So, one delay led to another.

  It was probably just as well, she consoled herself. Between her hours at the shop and working on jewelry sketches in the evening, she hadn’t had time to meet with the kitchen designer to go over the final plans for cabinets. Nor had she picked out the light fixtures or moldings or…or…or. It seemed endless, especially since she’d revamped the blueprint once already to accommodate Tony’s suggestion that she add in a space for her work.

  She was lying in bed, wide-awake despite the fact that her alarm clock was not set to ring for another two hours, when the cell phone on the bedside table rang. Tony. She smiled.

  “You’re early,” she teased upon answering.

  “What do you mean, I am early?”

  “Well, it’s only ten after four here. You usually call between six-thirty and seven o’clock most mornings.” She was out of the shower by then, dressed and downstairs having her morning coffee and a carton of yogurt. “I hate to break it to you, Tony, but you have become predictable.”

  She thought her use of the p word would have him sputtering in denial. His tone turned sinful instead. “I have caught you while you are still in bed, then. Describe for me what you are wearing. Do not skimp on the details.”

  Because her flesh began to prickle, she chided, “What if your mother was here?”

  “If my mama was there, I would wonder what she is doing at my home this time of the morning and why she is in your bedroom.” He chuckled. “So, what are you wearing?”

  “Pajamas.”

  “I asked for details, carina. What do these pajamas look like? Are they made of silk? Are they edged in lace? How do they feel against your skin?”

  “Like flannel,” she replied drily. “Since that’s what I’m wearing. Red-and-green plaid with red satin piping on the cuffs and lapels. How’s that for details?”

  “Perhaps I will buy you some lingerie for Christmas. Something short and sheer.”

  She swallowed and did her best to ignore the pull low in her belly that his words inspired. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not? I could help you put it on. Then I could help you take it off.”

  “All kidding aside—”

  “Who is kidding?”

  She ignored him. “I probably should tell you that, as it is, Lucia is under the impression that something is, um, going on between the two of us.”

  He sighed heavily and his voice lost its flirtatious tone. “Is she still dropping by the house unannounced?”

  “Unannounced? No,” Rachel hedged.

  “But she is stopping by.”

  “Now and then.” In addition to the tiramisu recipe that his mother had penned longhand as Rachel sat in the Russos’ dining room on Thanksgiving, Lucia had visited half a dozen times since their initial introduction. She called first, but she made it plain she was on her way and not seeking approval to come. She also had stopped by Expressive Gems the previous week. It was hard to be irritated when she’d left an hour later with several thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry.

  “I will speak to her,” Tony was saying.

  “That’s not necessary.” Rachel confided on a laugh, “She’s teaching me how to cook, including all of your favorite dishes.”

  The revelation didn’t garner the reaction she expected. Instead of laughing with her, Tony cursed. “I will speak to her,” he said again.

  “Really, Tony. I don’t mind.”

  “But I do.” His tone was resolute. Argument over, apparently, if indeed it could be considered an argument.

  “Tony?”

  He changed the subject. “How is the work progressing on your apartment?”

  “It’s hit a few snags,” she admitted. She told him about the postponed electrical inspection. “The guys have been great, but Will warned me that since they have work to do at another site, it may be a little while before he can get his crew back to my place for the drywall.”

  “There is no rush, you know. I will not turn you out onto the streets if you still have need of my home when I return, carina.” The good humor was back in his tone.

  Her gaze strayed to the pillow next to her in the bed. She could picture Tony there…smiling in that sinful way of his. Rachel threw off the covers and levered herself off the mattress, dropping the phone in her haste as she reached for the robe at the foot of the bed.

  “Sorry. Ar
e you still there?”

  “I am here,” Tony said. “But where are you?”

  “Up.” She tucked the cell phone between her ear and shoulder so she could belt the robe. “I’m heading downstairs.”

  “To the kitchen?”

  “That will be the first stop. Once I set the coffee to brew, I think I’ll go into the study. I like that room. It’s cozy. I’ve been spending a lot of evenings in there working on my designs. I am feeling very creative lately,” she confided.

  “Good. Are you working on anything in particular?”

  She reached the kitchen and flipped on the under-counter lighting, preferring its soft glow to the brighter overhead bulbs. “No, just something that I’ve been toying with ever since seeing a vase in a department store while doing some Christmas shopping.”

  “You found inspiration in a vase?”

  She added water to the coffeemaker’s reservoir and put ground coffee into a filter. “Not the vase itself, but the fluidity of the colors and the way they melded together.”

  “And you hope to replicate that how?” he asked.

  She hit the on switch and leaned against the counter. “That’s the question. I like the idea of different color gemstones dangling at different lengths from a choker, but…”

  “That does not capture the sensuality you are after,” he finished for her.

  “Exactly.”

  Rachel couldn’t recall ever having a conversation such as this with anyone. Certainly not with Mal. Nor with her mother or sister or even the women she employed at her shop. It wasn’t only that she felt proprietary about her designs and unwilling to unveil them before they were fully conceived. She’d always considered the creative process a solitary venture, a maze to be maneuvered through on her own and at her own speed. But she appreciated Tony’s input. Indeed, she was enjoying hearing his take. She told him so.

  “Does this make me your muse?” he asked. She heard the smile in his voice, pictured that same smile denting his lean cheeks. It wasn’t the smoldering bedroom variety. This smile was more intimate. She’d seen it a few times before he’d left the country. It had the same ruthless effect on her heart rate.