If the Ring Fits... Page 12

  Her sister had never had a father who could be counted on to show up. For a brief time, Rachel had.

  Griff waited until they were out in traffic to say, “God, I really screwed up.”

  Let it go, let it go, she chanted silently. Instead, she hollered, “Yes, Dad. You did! You screwed up royally.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. He didn’t look angry. He looked frustrated and…old. Where had those deep grooves that bracketed his mouth come from?

  “Do I get another chance, kitten?”

  “Call me kitten again and no.” She folded her arms over her chest and turned to stare out her window. Confused by her father’s seeming sincerity and nervous about the upcoming trip, Rachel did her best to ignore Griff for the rest of the ride to Metro.

  When they reached the airport half an hour later, Griff started to change lanes so he could pull into the short-term parking lot.

  “There’s no need for that, Dad. Just drop me at my airline’s curbside luggage check-in. That way you won’t have to pay for parking.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Please. It will save time and money.”

  She thought the explanation would appeal to him. He was a man who had never cared to be short on either. But he seemed disappointed when he said, “All right.”

  He helped her with her luggage and, despite a security guard’s reminder that he couldn’t park the car there, Griff appeared to be in no hurry to leave her.

  It was cold outside, and unlike her, he wasn’t wearing gloves. He brought his hands to his mouth and blew on them. “Got everything?”

  “Yes. Thanks for the ride.” She started to turn, but he laid a hand on her arm.

  “Have a safe trip, kit—Rachel.” He caught himself with a sheepish smile. “Knock ’em dead with your designs.”

  It was impossible not to feel pleasure at his words. What child didn’t want the approval of a parent, even one who had proved so unreliable? Her smile was genuine, if a little surprised, when she replied, “Thanks.”

  * * *

  Tony waited amid a shuffling crowd of people eager to welcome guests or returning loved ones at LaGuardia. He nearly missed Rachel when she deplaned. At first, his gaze skipped right over the stylish young woman with the streaky blond hair. She was wearing a bright red belted tunic top over a pair of trousers, with a black trench coat slung over one arm and pulling a hard-sided wheeled carry-on case that was decorated in zebra stripes. When his gaze zipped back, Rachel’s red-glossed lips were curved in a self-satisfied grin.

  Her hair was down. It fell about her shoulders in careless waves that made his hands itch to touch it.

  She looked lovely, chic. Her wide smile told him that she knew it. She’d never lacked for confidence when it came to her shop. This sort of confidence was different, rooted in her femininity. It looked incredibly sexy on her.

  His heart did a quick knock-knock that he couldn’t explain and hadn’t experienced in ages, if ever. He started toward her through the crowd, impatient to reach her.

  When he finally did, he said, “Welcome to New York.”

  “Tha—”

  That was as far as he let her get before tugging her into his arms for a kiss, during which the hustle and hurry of the other travelers was forgotten. Tony couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted as good as she looked and felt even better with that slim body pressed snug against his. A surprising amount of need welled up inside of him, surprising because not all of it was sexual. He drew away. Slowly. The busy terminal came back into focus. As did Rachel’s expression. It held a mixture of surprise and desire with a little trepidation thrown in. He knew exactly how she felt.

  “Wh-what was that for?” she asked softly.

  I have missed you.

  Madonna mio! He caught himself before he said the words.

  “You are so beautiful,” he replied instead, falling back on his usual flattery. “I could not help myself.”

  “I finally found time for a visit to my salon this week.” She shrugged, but the smug smile was back in place.

  “So I see. Very nice, carina. Very nice.”

  He took a step back and made a thorough study of her, starting with the blond highlights and ending at the pointy-toed high heels on her feet. She looked sophisticated, successful and every inch a woman thanks to the flattering fit of the clothes, which defined her tidy curves.

  Because he was tempted to drag her back in for a second long kiss, Tony said, “I have a car waiting. Dinner is not until seven, so I thought, since the restaurant is not far from my apartment, we could stop there and use the time to go over your designs before then. How does that sound?”

  “Fine.” But she hesitated. “Where will I be staying, Tony? You never said.”

  “You are welcome to stay with me. I have a big bed.” The flush in her cheeks could be taken a couple of ways. He went with the one most flattering to his ego. Smiling, he added, “Or, if you do not trust yourself, you could stay in my guest room.”

  “Tony—”

  “I am teasing, carina.” Though he hadn’t been. Not completely. Part of him had been hoping, he realized. “I have made reservations for you at a hotel not far from Times Square.”

  She moistened the lips he wanted to kiss again. “Would you mind taking me there now? I’d like to check in and get settled.”

  “As you wish.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Tony’s driver stopped the Mercedes sedan at the guest entrance to the Cavanaugh Arms. One of the hotel’s bellmen hurried out with a brass trolley to help with Rachel’s bags, but there was no need. She packed light enough for the two of them to handle everything. In addition to the smart little carry-on, she had only a garment bag.

  Rachel would be staying the weekend, but many of the women Tony knew would have packed double, even triple what she had for an overnight stay. He said as much as they stood in one of the hotel’s glass elevators, streaking toward the thirty-ninth floor.

  “Actually, I brought four changes of clothes in addition to what I have on right now.”

  “I like this outfit. The tunic in particular. The color is very becoming on you. Is it new?”

  She nodded. “In addition to having my hair done, I found time for a shopping trip. Heidi came with me. My sister is a bad influence. On top of clothing suitable for business, she talked me into… Well, a lot of other stuff.” Rachel turned away, pretending to be absorbed in the stunning view of the atrium, but not before he saw her blush again.

  What exactly had her sister talked Rachel into buying? Given her rosy cheeks, Tony decided it had to be something he would enjoy seeing firsthand.

  * * *

  Even before they entered her hotel room, Rachel knew she’d made a mistake. She should have agreed to go to Tony’s apartment. While that hadn’t seemed a wise choice at the time, at least there they wouldn’t have been confronted by the specter of a king-size bed the moment they walked through the door.

  He took her coat, shed his own.

  As he hung them in the closet, she walked to the wall of windows and parted the blinds. Far down below, the spectacle that was Times Square pulsed with people and action. She was eager to see it that evening, all lit up, with its huge billboards hawking everything from diet cola to luxury cars and golf clubs.

  “This is a nice room, very spacious,” she added, even though at the moment it felt as if the walls were closing in on them.

  “It has a very nice bed, too,” Tony remarked.

  She turned to find him sitting on the dove-gray satin duvet, his grin every bit as sexy as the underwear she was trying to forget she had on beneath her clothes.

  “So, do you want to see my designs?” She reached for her oversize purse. Most of the borrowed jewelry was inside it. She was wearing the rest: a ring, necklace and earrings. She hadn’t wanted to take the chance of losing any of it.

  His mouth curved into a smile that was the perfect complement to his bedroom surroundings. “Will you show me your etchings
, too? That is the cliché, no?”

  She laughed because that was what he expected. Then she cleared her throat. “I think we need to get something out of the way.”

  “I was thinking that very thing.” Again the smile appeared, but then he sobered and stood. “You are going to tell me that ours is a business arrangement only. For now.”

  The two words he added at the end didn’t sound as ominous as they did exciting.

  “Yes.” She sucked in a breath before tacking them on to her response. “For now.”

  “I could change your mind.”

  “I know you could,” she admitted.

  Indeed, it wouldn’t take much effort on his part. She was alone with him in a sumptuous hotel room, far from home and her normal routine. She was wearing new clothes, standing just beyond the precipice of that new chapter Heidi had assured her she would write. After that toe-curling kiss at the airport, Rachel found it was ever so tempting to give in to the attraction that had only grown stronger these past several weeks. Without realizing it, she took a step toward Tony.

  “That is not what I want.” His voice was oddly strained.

  The words smacked her in the face like ice water.

  “You’ve decided you don’t want me?”

  He swore. First in English and then in Italian. At least she assumed the second word was an oath from the way he spat it out.

  “I want you. Never doubt that. But I do not want you to have regrets after we make love. No recriminations.”

  Nor would he want any strings, which, given where she was in her life, should have sounded ideal. Her rebound man. Her reentry point into the world of dating. But was that all he would be? Was she capable of drawing a line and standing firm once she reached it? She knew Tony was.

  “I think I should go before we both have regrets.” He took his overcoat from the closet. The clang of hangers punctuated his brisk movements.

  “Tony, I apologize for the mixed signals I’ve been sending. I—”

  “No apology is necessary. It is all right, carina.” But his smile failed to reach his eyes. “I will send a driver for you later. We can meet at the restaurant an hour ahead of Daphne’s arrival and go over your designs then.”

  Before she had a chance to say anything else, he was gone.

  * * *

  Outside the hotel, Tony sucked in the crisp air before dismissing his driver. It was a long walk to his apartment, but he needed the exercise. He started up Broadway, his stride long, his steps quick. Even though he knew exactly where he was going, he’d never felt more lost. Why was he pursuing Rachel this way? What was it about the woman that made him so desperate to possess her? He pondered both questions all the way home, but was still seeking answers when he arrived.

  * * *

  Before leaving for Delacorte’s, Rachel freshened her makeup and fussed with her hair, putting it up only to take it back down. Nerves fluttered in her belly every time she thought of the evening to come, and not only because she would see Tony again. She was dining with Daphne Valero, one of the most influential women in the fashion world.

  It was hard not to feel like Cinderella, especially when Rachel stepped into her new dress. Afterward, as she examined herself in the hotel’s full-length mirror, she was glad she had caved in to Heidi’s nagging and bought some outrageously priced red heels. They were better than a pair of glass slippers any day, even if they felt about as comfortable at the moment. It had been a while since Rachel had worn anything other than practical flats and kitten heels.

  As for the dress, it was a basic black sheath with three-quarter-length sleeves. She’d gone for simplicity on purpose. The dress was the perfect backdrop for the necklace she’d chosen. It was her design, of course, and one of her favorite pieces. She’d created the star-shaped blue moonstone pendant that hung from a box-link gold chain for Heidi for her college graduation. The gems weren’t the best quality and the gold was fourteen carat rather than the eighteen that most of her paying clients requested. Rachel hadn’t been able to afford either. Still, she felt that the overall representation of her work was spot-on. The piece managed to be sophisticated and whimsical at the same time thanks to the setting. Besides, Heidi claimed it was good luck.

  With that in mind, Rachel hurried downstairs to meet Tony’s driver. She had a date with destiny, as the saying went. She tried not to think about how Tony figured into it.

  Tony couldn’t have been more proud of Rachel when he watched her walk into the lounge at Delacorte’s. It wasn’t only her stylish clothes or the flattering hairstyle. It was the way she held herself, the confidence in her stride. Her very presence was that of a woman who knew she was going places. If she was nervous, she was hiding it well. He was on his feet and crossing to meet her even before the hostess pointed him out. Unlike at the airport, this time he contented himself with a peck on her cheek. After their conversation in her hotel room, he knew better than to press his control.

  “You take my breath away, carina.” He meant it.

  “Thank you.”

  They took their seats. A server came by to refill Tony’s coffee. Rachel ordered a cup of hot tea.

  “About what happened at the hotel earlier,” she began once they were alone again.

  He shook his head before she could finish and laid a hand overtop of hers on the table. “Let’s put that behind us.”

  “Can we do that?” She looked doubtful and as confused as he felt.

  For her sake even more so than his own, Tony nodded.

  “It is all a matter of timing. I was wrong to try to rush things. When you are ready, you will let me know. Until then, I can be patient.”

  The words cost him. Part of him wanted Rachel out of his system. Surely, a sexual affair would accomplish that much. And if it didn’t? He ignored the question and worked up a reassuring smile.

  Tapping her portfolio, he said, “Now let me see what you have been up to these past weeks, carina.”

  * * *

  Two weeks later, even with a symphony of hammering going on overhead, Rachel’s spirits remained high. Her trip to New York had proved an unqualified success. Daphne Valero had not only been enthusiastic about what she saw in Rachel’s portfolio, she’d placed an order for a necklace on the spot.

  Asked what she wanted, the perfume heiress had waved one jewel-bedecked hand and announced in a thickly accented voice, “You are the designer. Surprise me.”

  Usually that kind of latitude would have pleased Rachel. Given all that was at stake, however, it had left her terrified. But only for about a week. Then late one night as freezing snow tapped at the windowpane keeping her awake, inspiration struck. She’d pulled back the covers and reached for her sketchbook. When Rachel had returned to bed just before dawn, she knew she’d nailed it. The two-inch amulet was shaped like an hourglass, representing La Fleur Fragrances’ signature scent. The amulet opened and would hold a few drops of the perfume when all was said and done.

  Despite the noise coming from upstairs, Rachel eagerly got to work now insetting tiny stones on the hourglass’s top and base. She’d gone with rose-cut mixed sapphires. Tony agreed with her that they played into the romance of the piece. She’d spoken to him about her sketch not long after finishing it, even going so far as to email him a scanned copy. She still found it a little perplexing how much she shared with him when it came to her work. Not to mention how much she shared with him about things that had nothing to do with jewelry designing at all.

  They spoke every day. Sometimes twice a day, despite the time difference. And there were emails. Since New York, he’d taken to signing them, “Yours patiently, Tony.” The first time, he’d added a winking smiley-face icon. She had appreciated his attempt at levity, but they both knew what he was waiting patiently for. As the days passed, he wasn’t the only one living in a state of anticipation. It was a wonder she got any work done.

  As it was now, Rachel nearly dropped one of the sapphires before she could add it to the setting. Eventually,
when she had the resources, she would have other people to help see her designs through from the sketching phase to finished product. For now, she was content to do it herself.

  That included the pieces Shay Stevens had commissioned at their meeting the day after Rachel’s dinner with Daphne. Shay, too, had raved about Rachel’s work. Both women’s reviews had further bolstered her confidence.

  “You are going places,” Tony had said smugly as they left the restaurant for the airport that brisk Sunday in December.

  “Only because you are taking me.” She’d sent him a grateful smile that had him shaking his head.

  “No, carina. This is all you.”

  And Rachel still had to prove herself. She’d won over Shay and Daphne—no small feat in either case. But to truly be a success, her designs had to sell to a broader, albeit exclusive, consumer base, one with discriminating tastes and a tighter rein on their wallets these days.

  Tony’s idea for launching a spring collection, even for the following year, had proved too ambitious. Rachel did not want to rush the production of her debut line of fine jewelry, even though Shay had been specific about which pieces from Rachel’s portfolio and sketchbook she felt would go over well with Zindal’s deep-pocketed clientele.

  Besides, a large-scale publicity campaign needed to be crafted with glossy, full-color ads in all of the hottest women’s magazines. That took time to create and implement. The goal was to ensure that every fashionista and fashionista-wannabe on both sides of the Atlantic had heard of Rachel before anything actually went on sale in a single Zindal’s store.

  Some people, such as Daphne and a small circle of her high-end friends, weren’t willing to wait until then, of course. Daphne had made it clear she wanted Rachel to deliver her commissioned jewelry in person to her home in Rome, at which time Rachel would also have her first, if unofficial, “trunk show.”

  Usually, trunk shows were held at major retailers, such as Zindal’s. That chain would be hosting the first wave of her shows in the United States at its stores nationwide once the collection went public. Trunk shows also were scheduled for a handful of select boutiques, including La Fleur Fragrances’ Beverly Hills store on Rodeo Drive.