If the Ring Fits... Read online

  “More,” she murmured, her eyes growing moist. “So much more.”

  The rest of the night was a blur. Champagne flowed. Black-vested waiters glided among the guests, carrying silver trays heavy with filled glasses and bite-size culinary masterpieces. Rachel sipped iced tea to keep from growing hoarse. She never stopped talking. The very people others were so in awe of, this evening were in awe of her. It was more than flattering. It was a huge boost to her confidence. She could handle the public facet of her new career.

  “I must have this piece,” Pia Costanzo said.

  According to Tony, Pia was the wife of a high-ranking member of parliament and came from a family who owned a vineyard in Tuscany. She picked up an 18-carat-gold bubble cuff that was studded in rose-cut blue sapphires and diamonds. It retailed for more than fifty-thousand American dollars. Not that any of the women at the party were worried about prices.

  “That’s a little tame for me,” said the young woman next to her.

  She was an actress known for her steamy roles on screen and her kinky bedroom exploits off. As such, she and Pia’s paths normally would not have crossed. Pia’s expression made it clear how she felt about being subjected to the woman’s company now.

  Daphne stepped in to head off a possible scene. “This one is more you, Tawny.”

  She selected a thick silver cuff studded in square-cut onyx stones and clasped it over the actress’s tattooed wrist.

  “I agree. And that ring.” Tawny pointed to the silver dragonfly whose wings were imbedded with blue moonstones. “I must have that ring.”

  And so the evening went with Rachel’s designs snapped up as if they were candy.

  If there was one downside to the evening it was the way the women flitted about Tony, openly flirting with him, and leaving Rachel to wonder if there was a reason for their seeming familiarity. It was foolish to be jealous. He was with Rachel now. But the question, once raised in her mind, began to nag: How long would it last? How long before Tony Salerno grew bored with her and moved on? And could she handle being merely his business partner once he had?

  It was closing in on two in the morning when they headed back to their hotel. Amazingly, at least from Rachel’s perspective, they were not the last to leave.

  “So how are you feeling?” Tony asked with a grin as a driver brought around their car. “Like you conquered the world perhaps?”

  “More like the galaxy. Maybe even the universe.”

  “Then I hope you will be pleased when I tell you that Dona Lorenzo has invited us to Milan next week.”

  “The shoe designer that Daphne also discovered?” She was tall and raven-haired, with a dazzling smile that turned inappropriately carnal whenever her gaze had fallen on Tony during the evening, which had been often. Either something had gone on between them and ended, or the woman was hoping for something to start. Either way, it made Rachel uncomfortable.

  “Yes. She has a photo shoot for a spread in one of my magazines, and would like to pair some of her shoes with some of your designs.”

  “You’ve said yes?”

  “I told her I would need to ask you.”

  That made Rachel feel better. “Do you think we should go?”

  “I think it is another good opportunity to ramp up the interest in your designs before taking on the American market. Create buzz, as they say.” In the dim light of the car’s interior, she saw him smile.

  Buzz. That’s what her head was doing right now. It was so crammed with ideas, images, impressions and questions, not all of which had to do with her career.

  “Okay.” She nodded. Then, unable to sit still any longer, she leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Can you stop here, please, er, per favore.” To Tony, she said, “How do I say pull over?”

  “Accostare qui,” Tony told the driver. As the car was pulled to the curb, he asked Rachel, “What is wrong? Why are we stopping?”

  “I want to…need to walk. It’s not too far, is it?”

  “A couple more blocks,” he said. “Carina? Is everything all right?”

  “Fine.” But to Rachel’s horror, her eyes filled with tears. She tried to blink them back only to have a couple fat drops fall. Swiping at her damp cheeks, she said, “I’m sorry. I think the evening has caught up with me.”

  Tony took her hand, kissed the back of it before tucking it into the crook of his arm. “Let us walk, then.”

  The side streets were quiet at this time of night. The click-click of Rachel’s heels the only sound until she heard the rushing of water. Around the next corner, the street opened up into a plaza with a fountain at its center.

  “This is not Trevi,” Tony said, referring to the mammoth masterpiece that featured Neptune on a horse-drawn seashell set against the walls of the Palazzo dei Duchi di Poli. “But it is said if you cast a coin in and make a wish it will come true.”

  Rachel sat on the low wall that surrounded the fountain. “All of my wishes have come true already.”

  “Have they? All of them?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of coins. “I worry that what I want most might need a little help.”

  He handed her one of the coins. Then, giving his a kiss for extra luck, he flipped it into the water. What had he wished, Rachel wondered? She knew better than to ask, not only because superstition dictated that wishes had to remain secret in order to come true. But because she was afraid of what his answer might be.

  “Your turn.”

  She rubbed her thumb over the coin. She had the career she’d long dreamed of and she was with a man she had never dreamed would be interested in her. She’d told herself to be content with the here and now.

  I wish for forever.

  Just as Tony had, she kissed the coin before sending it flying.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  RACHEL had never been on the set of a fashion shoot. Tony walked her through what he knew of them based on previous experience, explaining the importance of lighting and composition.

  She nodded, nibbled her lower lip. Smiling to himself, he couldn’t be sure if she’d heard a single word he’d said.

  “I like the white rose petals,” he remarked. They were scattered over the set and flowed out of a pair of snakeskin pumps. One of Rachel’s rings was propped on the shoe’s vamp.

  “I requested them,” she surprised him by saying. “I liked the way they looked on the display table at Daphne’s.”

  “Taking my advice, I see.”

  “They are my designs, even if this isn’t my shoot.”

  She’d come so far, in so short a time, he thought with no small measure of pride. “So, are white roses going to be your signature flower, something that connects one show and shoot to another? Beyond your jewelry, of course.”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Like a calling card. I have no intention of being difficult, but as you said, I am the designer. I need to have some control over the presentation.”

  “It is okay to be a little difficult, too.” He lowered his voice. “I told Dona to be sure to have green tea on hand. I told her you require it.”

  “I require it?” Her eyes went wide before she blinked. “You make me sound like a diva.”

  He shrugged. “Your wants and needs are important. If you do not assert yourself, especially at this early stage, people such as Dona will decide things for you or take advantage. It was my way of leveling the playing field.”

  “With green tea.”

  “Yes.” He was serious when he said, “You take a backseat to no one. If you do not like the way your designs are presented, you have only to say so. That is your prerogative and your right. Accept nothing short of perfection.”

  The shoot went well and wrapped up after only a few hours. Of course, other photographs had been taken the day before with models. Tony was retrieving Rachel’s coat from the break area. When he turned around, he nearly ran over Dona.

  “I wish the day didn’t have to end so soon,” she said in Italian. “I enjoy worki
ng with you, Tony.”

  “Rachel’s designs paired well with your shoes,” he said with a smile.

  He tried to slip by her, but there was no way he could maneuver around her without brushing against her breasts. He knew exactly what she wanted. Dona had made it plain at Daphne’s party in Rome, and all day long she had found reasons to touch him, going so far as to rest a hand on his thigh when they’d taken a break for lunch. She’d nibbled from the antipasto on his plate even. Rachel, who’d been seated across from him, had not looked happy. He couldn’t blame her, but short of publicly humiliating Dona, he’d seen no way of ending the problem. He’d done his best to ignore her brazen behavior in the hope she would take a hint and cease.

  Apparently, he had no such luck.

  “Are you free tonight?” she asked.

  “I am afraid not. Rachel and I are having dinner and taking in a show with some friends of mine.”

  “Perhaps tomorrow, then. You could stop by my studio when you are not babysitting your little friend.”

  She pressed a hand to his crotch and made a ribald suggestion that would have made a hedonist blush. Before he’d started seeing Rachel, Tony might have been tempted to find out if what Dona suggested was anatomically possible. Right now, he chuckled, but shook his head. “Sorry, but I will have to pass.”

  He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Rachel stood in the doorway, her lips pressed together, her gaze cool. Despite her limited grasp of Italian, Tony knew she had no need for an interpreter.

  Far from being embarrassed, Dona said brazenly in English, “A rain check, then. I will look forward to hearing from you.”

  After giving him one last caress through his trousers, she retreated, pushing past Rachel with a smug smile on her face.

  “Rach—” he began once they were alone.

  “I’m all set to go if you are.”

  “About Dona—”

  “Don’t.” She pinched her eyes closed for a moment and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. The look on your face tells me as much.” He reached for her arm, half expecting her to pull free. She didn’t, but it was apparent she had already retreated from him in other ways. An unexpected ache throbbed in his chest. “You do not trust me. You think I am like the man you were married to. That I will be unfaithful.”

  “No. I don’t believe that at all.”

  Her staunch denial did little to lessen his fears. “I did nothing to encourage Dona’s forward behavior today. Nothing. Just now, in here, she came on to me.”

  “I know that, Tony.”

  “You know. You know. You are not acting like you know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.

  “How am I acting?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  He’d been involved with enough women that he knew a trap when he saw one. “I probably should have done more to discourage her. I just did not want to create a public scene.”

  “I know.”

  “Again with the I know,” he shouted impatiently. “If you know, then what are we fighting about?”

  “We aren’t fighting. I know you won’t cheat on me. You once told me that you are always faithful to a woman—for as long as you are with her.”

  The caveat at the end was what caught his attention. Tony frowned. Yes, he’d said that. He’d meant it at the time, too, because he’d been content with short-term romances that filled a physical need. He had much more than that with Rachel. He didn’t want it to end. Not now. Not ever?

  “I am happy with you. Rachel, I…I…”

  A word he’d never said to a woman before hovered on the tip of his tongue. Love. Santo cielo! When had it happened? But then he knew. It hadn’t occurred in one moment, but during a series of moments spread out over the course of several months. Attraction had come first, then friendship, a physical relationship and finally this deep, fulfilling and, at the moment, very frightening emotional tie.

  Especially when he heard her say, “Yes, you are happy now, Tony.”

  “Do you think I am going somewhere? That there is someone else I wish to be with?”

  “Right now, no. A month from now? A year? I don’t know.” The smile she gave him never reached her eyes. “It’s not as if either of us has ever made any promises.”

  “Is that what you want, carina? Promises?”

  Was that what he wanted? His palms were sweating. His stomach was in knots. He experienced no relief when she shook her head.

  “No. I’ve had promises. I like what we have, too. We’re happy together, now. That’s more than enough.”

  “Yes.”

  That was exactly what he had always believed. So much so it had practically been his dating mantra. Madonna mio. He’d known he had changed. But it wasn’t until this very moment that he realized how very much.

  * * *

  Rachel spent another three days in Italy. It was all the time she could spare before she had to return home. The shop needed her, and she had deadlines to meet on pieces for her regular customers. Besides, Tony had work to do, as well. He had squeezed in an interview with a world-renowned chef during their trip to Milan for a piece he was doing on Mediterranean cooking. After Rachel returned to the States, he would be traveling down to Sicily for a week before heading over to Athens, Greece.

  After the incident at the photo shoot, things between them had been somewhat strained. She tried not to let herself worry about losing him. She’d been foolish to think she could hold on to a man like Tony. Here in Italy, in his glitzy world among his glamorous circle, she’d realized just how different they were. Despite his deep love for his family, which brought him back to Michigan frequently, he was immersed in this lifestyle. And she was a novelty.

  As Dona herself had told Rachel when she stopped by the hotel while Tony was out on his interview, “He will get bored with you soon enough. I do not mean this as an insult. It is just Tony’s way.” She’d laughed. “He will tire of me in time, too. But I should have been patient. I should have waited for him to finish with you before extending the invitation I did the other day. Allora. No hard feelings?”

  Apparently, Dona’s words were intended to serve as an apology. Some apology. Rachel hadn’t bothered to tell Tony about the incident. She saw no point. But it served as a reminder to guard her heart. Mal’s betrayal had hurt her. If she allowed it to, Tony’s defection would destroy her.

  “I have a surprise for you, carina,” Tony announced as he opened the car door for her.

  Rachel was booked on a flight scheduled to leave Rome at nine o’clock that morning. By the same time tomorrow she would be in her cozy studio apartment in Rochester, fighting off jet lag and catching up on a couple of weeks’ worth of business correspondence.

  “What?”

  “A little side trip.”

  “To where?”

  “Venice.”

  Her eyes widened. “But my flight.”

  “I took the liberty of rescheduling for late tomorrow night. If that will not suit, I will change it back, but I thought it was a shame you did not get to see Venice. You said it was the one city in Italy you wanted to visit.”

  “You remember that?” It had been months ago. Long before they’d begun to date.

  “I remember all sorts of things when it comes to you.” He smiled. “So, Venice? It will be a whirlwind trip, but you can buy some Murano beads and go home inspired.”

  “I would like that.”

  Whirlwind wasn’t the word for it. Tony had a friend who owned an estate on a small island in the Venice Lagoon. He was only too happy to loan Tony its use in return for a generous donation to a charity the man chaired. They took a helicopter from Rome to the island and his friend’s boat from there to where the murky green waters flowed into the Grand Canal. She marveled at the Byzantine architecture of St. Mark’s Basilica. They had a late lunch at a restaurant that overlooked the square before heading to a glass shop. Rachel watched the glass artists with interest, mesmerized by the b
eauty and fluidity of the glass before it hardened into the desired shape.

  “Already I see your creative juices starting to flow,” Tony remarked. “I predict you will be very busy upon your return home tomorrow.”

  He bought her a necklace of the famed beads, did the honors himself in putting it around her neck. He kissed her cheek afterward. Her heart thumped and then dropped into her stomach. Was this goodbye? Tony, after all, was well known for giving the women he left jewelry as a parting gift. He couldn’t very well commission Rachel to make her own. Murano beads, then, would be the next best thing. She immediately chided herself for being ridiculous. But eventually…

  “What are you thinking, carina?” He asked, lifting her chin so that she was forced to look him in the eye.

  “I’m thinking about how much I am going to miss you,” she said softly. It wasn’t a lie.

  * * *

  Tony paced his Rome apartment. Rachel had been gone less than a week and already he was lonely and irritable and afraid. Yes, afraid. He was losing her.

  Despite all of her reassurances, he could feel her pulling back, pulling away. It wasn’t only the physical distance that bothered him, although for the first time in his life Rome no longer felt like home. No, it was the emotional distance that left him feeling anxious.

  It was nothing that she’d said or done. Even after their fight that, according to her, wasn’t a fight, they’d made love. And she’d seemed to enjoy their quick side trip to Venice. But the beads he’d given her had made her sad. She’d smiled, thanked him. Kissed him. But he knew her too well now. Something was wrong.

  He’d tried to talk to her about it. He’d brought it up several times now, both while she was still in Italy and during phone calls to her in Michigan. She either sidestepped the issue or told him it was nothing.

  Nothing. That was exactly what she expected from him. No future other than as business partners. Meanwhile, Tony had fallen in love. He couldn’t lose her. He needed her in his life. But how to convince her of that? He’d always been a silver-tongued charmer. More than words, he needed a grand gesture, an over-the-top demonstration to prove to her beyond a shadow of a doubt that he meant what he planned to say.