Renzo was formidable, both in his industry and in life, she thought. No wonder he’d maneuvered her so smoothly into changing her hair and buying clothes today. He did not accept defeat. Ever. “Did you grow up in Rome?” she asked.
His gaze was blank. “No. A small town on the Amalfi Coast. My mother was a waitress in a hotel there.”
“And your father?”
The corners of his mouth tightened, and a throb of premonition squeezed her heart. “I do not have a father, cara.”
She didn’t quite know what to say to that. She felt like she’d tripped into a minefield, and there was nothing to do now but finish the journey and hope for the best. “I’m sorry, Renzo.”
He shrugged. “It has been this way my whole life. I am not bothered by it.”
But he was. She could tell by the bleak look on his face, the way his voice was carefully controlled. Whatever it was, it bothered him a great deal.
“My father is a preacher,” she said, and then wondered why she’d admitted that to him. But he’d seemed so lost, and she’d found herself wanting to confess that while she had a father, their relationship wasn’t perfect.
He looked at her with interest. “A preacher? What is this?”
Faith twisted her fingers together. She didn’t like talking about her family. It inevitably brought up painful memories, but she’d started the conversation and had to finish it. “He’s a minister. In a church.”
“Ah, I see.” His gaze was suddenly keen. “Perhaps this explains much about you.”
It explained a lot, actually, but she was far too embarrassed to tell him all of it. “He was a hard man to live with,” she said softly. “He expected much out of his children. I was the disappointment. My brother Albert was an Eagle Scout, and I …”
She swallowed. Renzo reached for her hand. She let him take it, a little tingle of awareness beginning to sizzle up her spine as he threaded his fingers in hers.
“All children think they are a disappointment at one time or another. It is rarely true, I believe.”
“It is definitely true in my case,” Faith said. “I haven’t spoken to my father in eight years.”
His eyes searched hers, their blue depths full of dark emotion. “I’m sorry, Faith. I can tell this upsets you.”
She shrugged. But yes, it hurt, even after all this time. She’d been so stupid. So naive and innocent and gullible. And she’d paid the price. Jason hadn’t. He was a male, and males stuck together.
“I, um, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she replied, her gaze firmly fixed on their linked hands. “It makes me uncomfortable to talk about it.”
He brought her hand to his mouth and feathered his lips across her skin. His breath was hot as he spoke. “Then we will not speak of it again.”
Tears pricked her eyes. She really didn’t want to like him, and yet she couldn’t quite help it at the moment. “Thank you.”
“It is nothing,” he said. And then his voice grew firm, determined. “You are a good woman, Faith. Never believe otherwise.”
“You don’t really know me,” she said. “I might be nothing more than a very good actress.”
At that he laughed. “Actually, you aren’t an actress at all,” he told her. “Your every emotion is written across your face. Would you like to know what I see there now?”
She met his gaze evenly. His eyes glittered with heat and promise, and she could feel her nipples responding, tightening, her breasts growing heavy and firm. Her sex throbbed with need, her body growing tight and achy.
“What do you see?” she asked, surprised at the husky turn of her voice.
He lifted his hand to her face, traced his thumb across her bottom lip. She bit back the moan that wanted to escape as he did so. “I see a woman who wants me … but who is terribly afraid to admit it.”
“YOU are mistaken, Renzo,” Faith said once she found her voice again. Her heart, in the meantime, was pounding at light speed. “You really should see a doctor about that ego, you know. It must be such a burden carrying that thing around.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “You amuse me, and yet I recognize this tactic. It’s not working, by the way.”
“Tactic? What tactic? I assure you I’m only speaking the truth.”
He leaned toward her, his eyes gleaming hotly. “Then prove it to me, cara mia. Kiss me and prove to me that you are unaffected.”
Faith sat stiffly beside him, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “That would be unprofessional, Mr. D’Angeli.”
He lounged back on the seat, watching her with dark humor sparking in his gaze. “Another tactic, lovely Faith. First you insult me. Then you wish to distance me with your formality.”
“I’m your PA,” she said. “It’s perfectly appropriate.”
“But aren’t you curious?”
Her heart thumped at the wicked sparkle in his gaze. Of course she was curious. “Not at all.” She smoothed the fabric of the green dress. “Honestly, does this usually work for you? I’d have thought you had much more complex methods to employ.”
He laughed. And then he leaned toward her and it was everything she could do not to scoot away and cling to the door like a frightened virgin. “You try to push me away with your thorniness, but it doesn’t work the way you suppose it does, cara mia.”
She drew her body upright, holding herself rigid in the seat. “Then you are not as smart as I thought you were. A shame, considering how many people depend upon you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you know what you need, Faith?”
“Sleep,” she ventured. “I didn’t get a lot of it last night.”
One eyebrow lifted. “What I propose does involve a bed, but sleep isn’t part of the equation. At least not immediately.”
She turned her head away to hide the blush that she knew was creeping up her neck and spreading over her cheeks. A moment later Renzo gasped. She turned, her heart tumbling at the anguish tightening his features. He clenched his fists at his sides, and his lips were white with pain.
“Renzo, are you all right? Is it your leg?”
He nodded once, and she sidled toward him, suddenly uncaring about keeping her distance. “Stretch your leg out if you can. Let me massage it.”
His head fell back against the seat, his skin turning ashen as he stretched the leg. She had no doubt he was in agony. “Dio, it hurts,” he said.
“Do you have any pain pills?”
“I do, but I took one last night. I can’t take another for a few days yet.”
His muscles were so tight. Faith massaged rhythmically, trying to ease the cramp. “Why not?”
His blue gaze pierced into her, the depths filled with pain and even perhaps a little bit of fear. “They are addictive, Faith. I can’t allow that to happen.”
No, a man like Renzo would not wish to be addicted to painkillers. She admired his willpower even though she feared he might be a bit