If the Ring Fits... Page 8

  The accusation wasn’t new. It still made her uncomfortable, in part because she knew he was right.

  “I’m sorry, Mal.”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I wasn’t being fair to you.” Even if she wasn’t the only one who’d worked sixty-hour weeks. She didn’t add that she hadn’t been fair to herself, either.

  Mal blinked, taken aback by her words and the conciliatory tone in which they were offered.

  “Do you mean that?” he asked.

  Tony’s face came to mind. He was smiling. Of course.

  “You know what? I do. I really do.”

  Mal relaxed. Was he feeling a weight lifted? Perhaps a little guilt seep away? Whatever. She could be magnanimous…on that score. The house was another matter. She told him as much.

  “I think we both know that, given what has just now come to light, if I wanted to raise a stink over the sale, I could. In fact, if I wanted to be difficult, I could walk out of here right now without signing the papers and call my lawyer. What the three of you hatched is unethical, if not outright illegal. Don’t think for a minute that I see this as fulfilling the terms of our divorce settlement.”

  Mal’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to wiggle out of paying me back for the loan to your business?”

  “Not at all.” She wouldn’t leave here today beholden to him. “I’ll repay you every cent I owe. That’s only fair. And fairness is what I expect from you in return. In fact, I’m demanding it. Or I walk out right now.”

  She’d so rarely made waves during their marriage that her uncompromising tone probably came as a shock. Across from her, Mal looked a little sick. Alyssa fingered her gaudy engagement ring and worked her gum.

  Their agent returned as the silence lengthened. Flora glanced around the table, no doubt taking in their tight expressions. She forced a bright smile to her lips.

  “All righty then,” she said uneasily. She tapped the bottom edges of the papers on the table. “I think I have everything in order.”

  “There’s been a change in the terms,” Rachel announced and had the satisfaction of hearing Mal swear as he wilted back in his seat. “It turns out I will be keeping the appliances, Flora, and Alyssa has generously agreed to pay the closing costs as well as both portions of your commission.”

  When Mal opened his mouth to protest, Rachel said, “Be glad I’m not pushing for full asking price and the use of the place until the apartment is ready. As it happens I’ve already made other living arrangements.”

  A muscle ticked in Mal’s jaw before he nodded.

  “But, honey,” Alyssa began.

  He ignored her and turned his attention to their wide-eyed and ashen agent. “Write it up, Flora.”

  Flora looked eager to comply, if only because it took her out of the conference room. When she returned with a fresh batch of papers a little later, Rachel happily scrawled her signature on this dotted line and that, supplied the date and her initials where necessary. Twenty minutes later, she walked out of the office into the late afternoon’s waning light with a huge grin on her face.

  A long, unpleasant chapter in her life was officially closed. It was time to start another, one she would write herself.

  Designing jewelry is all you care about.

  She mulled Mal’s accusation as she got in her car and revved its engine to life. This time, instead of guilt or annoyance, it was validation she felt. Oh, she cared about more than designing jewelry, but now it could and would be her focus without any guilt or regrets.

  Rachel was in the mood to celebrate. The image of Tony Salerno outfitted in a tuxedo sprang to mind. If anyone knew how to mark a momentous occasion, he would. At least, that’s what she told herself in order to corral the butterflies that took flight in her stomach whenever he entered her thoughts these days.

  She waited until she stopped for a light before pulling out her cell phone and dialing the shop to let her assistant know she wouldn’t be returning after all.

  “Is everything all right, Mrs. Palmer?” Jenny asked.

  The young woman’s concern was touching and understandable; Rachel never missed work.

  “I’m better than all right, Jenny. And call me Ms. Preston now,” she added, supplying her maiden name.

  She would be calling her lawyer after all. How much trouble would it be to legally change her name? Certainly no more hassle than going through a divorce, dividing up assets and hiring a contractor to convert commercial storage space into a studio apartment, Rachel decided as she started in the direction of Tony’s house—her house for the time being. She’d been there to supervise the unloading of most of her belongings earlier that day. The rest had gone to storage, either at the small unit she’d rented or the shop for smaller items. She would be sending the movers back for her appliances first thing in the morning. For now, she was going to bask in her triumph.

  A smile spread slowly across her face. She planned to make good use of the many high-end amenities at her disposal, in particular the big and decidedly decadent jetted tub she’d spied in the master bathroom. It had all of the most modern bells and whistles, including an underwater sound system. She wouldn’t need to light candles, either. She would light the fire.

  Ah, yes. Decadent indeed.

  On the way, she stopped to pick up a bottle of champagne. She wasn’t a fan of bubbly or alcohol in general. She drank only occasionally and then in small amounts since alcohol caused her cheeks to turn an unbecoming and uncomfortably warm shade of red. But the occasion called for it, even if she only indulged in a sip.

  “Maybe I’ll bathe in it,” she murmured aloud.

  She had unpacking to do. Plenty of it. Still, when she arrived at the house, Rachel didn’t dive into the chore that greeted her in her suite. Just inside the threshold, she kicked off her shoes and began stripping off her clothes—a boring cream sweater and equally unimaginative black pants whose fit had never been flattering. She left them in a heap on the floor, deciding on the spot that she would never wear either again. She might even burn them. She wanted color, pizzazz. That new chapter was already being written.

  She didn’t miss the symbolism. She was indeed undergoing a transformation, a metamorphosis from duped and dumped wife to empowered woman. Make that savvy businesswoman. She retrieved her cell from the pocket of her discarded pants and, champagne bottle in hand, she entered Tony’s inner sanctum.

  As she sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for it to fill, she dialed the contact number Tony had given her. He sounded groggy when he answered, and no wonder.

  “I forgot about the time difference. Sorry.”

  “Rachel?”

  “Yes. Sorry,” she said again. Her enthusiasm of a moment ago began to ebb. “I’ll hang up now.”

  “No. Wait!”

  She heard the rustling of fabric and imagined Tony freeing himself from a tangle of sheets. From the legs of a slumbering woman, as well? Rachel closed her eyes, but the vivid image remained.

  “I’ll call back.” She hung up without waiting for his response.

  The tub was full. She slipped into the water and let out a long sigh. She was trying to figure out how to start the jets and cue the music when her cell rang. She knew exactly who was on the other end of the line.

  “You didn’t have to call me back,” she said without preamble. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

  “You are never a bother, Rachel.” He sounded sincere. “Is everything all right?”

  “It is. Better than all right, in fact. That’s why I called, I guess. I’m looking to the future.”

  “Any reason in particular?”

  “I closed on the house today.”

  “You sound happy.”

  “I am. I did a little renegotiating.” She filled him in on what had transpired in the agent’s office.

  “You let them off easy,” Tony said.

  “Probably. I was feeling sentimental. It turns out they are engaged.” Although it hadn’t been f
unny at the time, Rachel started to laugh. “The next Mrs. Palmer waved her engagement ring in my face.”

  “No doubt its quality is as second-rate as she is.”

  Rachel grinned. “You’re very good for my ego.”

  “Am I now?” He sounded pleased. His tone lifted several notches on the sexy scale when he added, “I could be very good for you in other ways.”

  Rachel ignored the flutter in her belly and changed the subject. “Alyssa wasn’t sure what a paramour was.”

  “Alyssa?”

  “The next Mrs. Palmer. Very busty, but not too bright.”

  “Some men are intimidated by intelligent women, since they are not as easy to manipulate. It sounds like Mal should have married her the first time around.”

  “It certainly would have saved us both a lot of headaches.”

  “And heartache?”

  “That, too.” She could have left it at that, and probably should have, but she heard herself add, “I realized something today. I was as much to blame as Mal. Well, maybe not quite as much. I didn’t break any vows. But I shouldn’t have made any in the first place.”

  “You were playing it safe,” he replied smugly.

  They’d had this conversation already. “No one likes to hear, ‘I told you so.’”

  “Perdonilo.” Then Tony said, “Since Mal will be moving back into the house, did you offer to sell him the beige couch?”

  Rachel burst out laughing. Oh, yes. Tony was definitely good for her ego.

  “No. I’m selling it and a lot of other stuff online. When the apartment over the shop is finally ready, I plan to buy something red with modern lines.”

  “Excellent. Speaking of the move, are you all settled in at my house?”

  “More or less. I still have unpacking to do. In fact, I should be doing it now, but I’m relaxing.”

  “You are not at work?” His surprise was plain.

  Rachel wiggled her toes under the water. She could do with a pedicure. Maybe she’d schedule one for tomorrow. “I’m playing hooky for the rest of the day and seriously thinking about making an appointment for some spa pampering in the morning.”

  Deep laughter rumbled from the other end of the line. She pictured the corners of Tony’s eyes crinkling with amusement when he teased, “So, you were paying attention when I spoke about making time to play.”

  “I guess I was. I’ve become too dull. It’s time to break out of my shell.”

  “I would like to be there to see that.”

  She shifted her position in the tub, causing the water to slosh.

  Tony homed in on it like a hound dog on the hunt. “Where exactly are you right now?”

  Rachel sank a little lower in the water. It was time to come clean in more ways than one. “I’m in your tub.”

  “You are in my tub?” His tone was low and oddly intense.

  “I should have asked first. I—”

  “Madonna mia! I guess I no longer have to wonder what you are wearing.”

  That drew out a smile. Still, she added, “I hope you’re not upset.”

  “I am. With myself that I am on a different continent when I could be there with you.”

  The words sounded sincere. Indeed, spoken in his sleep-roughened Italian accent, they sounded way too sexy. It didn’t help that she was naked. Rachel felt that flutter in her belly again.

  “Regardless of which continent you’re on, I’m sure you’re not lacking for female companionship.”

  He was quiet a moment. She took his silence for agreement. When he did speak, he asked, “Did you light the fire?”

  She glanced to where flames frolicked in hues of orange and yellow behind the glass insert. “I did.”

  “And music? I do not hear anything playing in the background.”

  “I haven’t figured out the remote yet,” she admitted. “It looks like it’s big enough to launch a rocketship.”

  “Shall I help you?”

  The offer warmed her skin even more than the heated bathwater.

  “I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”

  “Excellent. The right music and lighting will enhance the experience,” he assured her.

  He explained how to operate the remote, walking her through the steps. In short order, the lights were dimmed and Andrea Bocelli’s silken tenor was echoing softly off the Carrara marble.

  Even though Rachel was starting to feel stirred up, she told Tony, “You certainly know how to relax.”

  “Anything worth doing is worth doing well.”

  From his tone it was clear he wasn’t speaking only of relaxing.

  “Bragging?” she challenged.

  “It’s only bragging if you are not able to back it up, carina. Would you care to test me?”

  An ocean’s worth of separation made her brave. Instead of telling him no, she replied, “As you said, you’re on another continent.”

  She thought she heard him mutter “Madonna mia” again before he asked, “And if I were not?”

  “I guess we’ll never know.”

  “Oh, we will,” he assured her. “Another time, we will. You are not ready yet.”

  Rachel wanted to be turned off by his arrogant certainty. Instead, her body hummed and need began to churn.

  “No response?”

  She glanced down to where the peaks of her breasts crested the water. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “I need a glass of wine,” he mumbled. He didn’t sound quite so cocky now. “Have you poured yourself one?”

  “Actually, I have champagne.” She concentrated on the uncorked bottle. Her gaze followed the progress of a bead of condensation. It started slow at the neck, picking up momentum until it reached the base. It made her think of sex. Of course, at the moment, everything had her thinking about sex.

  “You are full of surprises.”

  “I’m not drinking it. In fact, I haven’t even opened the bottle.”

  “Do you need me to walk you through that process, as well?” Tony asked.

  “I haven’t decided whether I want to drink it or not. I don’t really like champagne.”

  “You don’t like champagne? Why did you buy it?”

  “I was in the mood to celebrate.”

  “Ah, yes. Your liberation,” he said.

  It was an interesting take on divorce. One she wouldn’t have agreed with mere weeks ago. But it was on the mark, Rachel realized now. She hadn’t been set free from marriage to Mal as much as set free from her own limited expectations when it came to her life and her heart. Still, that wasn’t the only reason she’d bought the bubbly.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my future as it pertains to jewelry design. I have so many ideas that I’ve put off even considering because, well, I felt limited.”

  “No limits now. And no strings. I want you, carina. Make no mistake about that. But I meant it when I said that one thing has nothing to do with the other. Our personal and professional relationships will remain independent of one another. Now, let me get a glass of wine and I will join you in a toast.”

  “I’d better not have any champagne. I have an adverse reaction to alcohol.”

  “A lot of people do.” Humor leaked into his tone. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop them from overindulging.”

  “In my case, a couple of sips and I get all hot.”

  “I can only imagine,” he replied. In addition to humor-filled, his voice now sounded strained. “So what will you do with the champagne if you do not drink it?”

  “I don’t know. I may add it to the bath water,” she remarked recklessly.

  “You are enjoying torturing me,” he accused on a chuckle.

  She laughed, as well. “Maybe I am, just a little.”

  “How is the water?”

  “Warm. And it feels wonderful. You’re torturing yourself now, Tony.”

  “Apparently you bring out masochistic tendencies I was unaware I had.” Then, “About that champagne, I want you to open it right now. In
dulge me, yes?”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think to bring a glass.”

  “Do you need one?”

  “You want me to drink it from the bottle?”

  “That is not what I meant. I thought you were going to bathe in it. I like that idea. And I am curious how it would feel to have those bubbles on your skin. You can describe it to me. In detail.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” she said as her heart rapped out an unsteady rhythm.

  At the moment, so was she. It hadn’t slipped her notice that they were engaging in what qualified as foreplay, albeit by telephone. Still, Rachel would see him in the flesh again at some point. She needed to remember that and take care not to send signals she had no intention of making good on, lest their next meeting be awkward.

  She liked Tony, and their attraction was definitely mutual, but she needed to tread with care. It wasn’t only that he was a valued client of Expressive Gems. Now that she had accepted his offer to help her expand her jewelry-design business they were entering a partnership of sorts. He might claim one had no bearing on the other, but…

  “I think I’d better hang up now.”

  “That is probably a good idea,” he said slowly, seriously.

  “Good night, Tony.”

  “Buona notte.”

  * * *

  Tony hung up, but he knew better than to think he would fall back to sleep. Not now. He pushed a hand through his hair and groaned. He was picturing Rachel in his bath, picturing himself slipping into the heated water beside her. Their hips bumping. Legs twining. Bare skin sliding over bare skin. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath when the image not only remained but became more vivid.

  The fantasy was one of many Tony had had of Rachel recently. The woman had definitely gotten under his skin, and Tony was left with the uneasy and unprecedented feeling that he might be in over his head.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BARELY an hour later, Tony’s phone rang again. He smiled as he reached for it, expecting—or at least hoping—that Rachel would be on the other end.

  His mother’s agitated voice greeted him instead.

  “There is a woman in your home!”

  Lucia rattled off half a dozen more words in Italian, making it plain what she thought of a member of the opposite sex setting up housekeeping under her only son’s roof, especially a woman she had never met.