Signed Over To Santino. Maya Blake
Javier exhaled. He released his death grip on his phone when the plastic creaked. ‘I should be wheels up in an hour but I’d appreciate frequent updates on her condition.’
‘You’re coming to Italy?’ Draco’s voice expressed surprise.
Javier snapped up his briefcase shut and headed for the door. ‘Considering how much I’ve invested in our mutual client, I believe a personal interest in her recovery is well within my rights. I’ll see you in seven hours.’
He hung up and walked past his PA’s desk.
‘Cancel all my appointments until further notice.’
She opened her mouth then immediately shut it.
In his limo minutes later, he tried to wrestle his fury under control.
So what if Carla Nardozzi had rejected him in a way only the father who’d barely acknowledged his existence had done? After years of biding his time, he’d finally found a way to get his own back. The Ice Princess would be taught a salutary lesson. All he needed was to ensure she got back on her feet in order for him to deliver the punishment she truly deserved.
His emotions had nothing to do with this.
This was a matter of business. And of his pride.
Nothing else.
* * *
Carla tried to lift her head off the pillow and was immediately engulfed in a fog of pain and confusion.
‘No, signorina, don’t try and move.’
She relaxed, and the pain receded a touch. But the confusion remained. She’d been sure she was dreaming. And yet the voices and images flitting through her mind had been so vivid, so real.
Her father’s voice had been unmistakeable. He’d been there the few times she’d woken up in the strange, sterile room.
But it was the other, deeper voice she’d heard the last time she’d woken that confused her and made her heart race. The change in the lighting suggested she’d fallen asleep some time after hearing him.
By all accounts that voice didn’t belong here...wherever this cold, grey here was.
The last time they’d met, he’d been icily indifferent, a ruthless businessman intent on one thing—getting her to sign along the dotted line.
Or at least, he had been...until he’d had her exactly where he wanted her. Until that kiss.
Like a blurred lens swinging into sharp focus, the memory of the kiss burned bright and insistent. Along with the recollection of the way he’d looked at her afterward.
Javier Santino had looked at her with pure hatred. And she didn’t blame him. After what she’d done three years ago, he had every right to detest her. It didn’t help that her will power withered away to nothing in his presence. But since that unfortunate day a month ago, she’d summoned enough strength to assure herself nothing would happen.
Javier hated her. She’d dealt his ego a great blow. And a ruthlessly powerful and charismatic man like that would never forget an insult to his pride.
Which bemused her as to why he’d kissed her in the first place.
Or had she kissed him...?
Memory blurred and confusion remounted. Carla lifted her hand to her head. Tracing her fingers gingerly over a particularly sore spot, she gasped as pain ricocheted through her. A dull throb in her other wrist brought her attention to the fact that it was in a cast.
‘Where am I?’ she attempted, swallowing painfully around a dry throat.
The buxom woman bustling around her paused and Carla noticed her nurse’s uniform for the first time. ‘In a private hospital in Roma,’ she replied, smiling her sympathy. ‘You suffered a bad fall and a particularly nasty concussion.’
Of course. Memories of her accident resurged. The row with her father. Then with her trainer, Tyson Blackwell. Her instincts screaming at her in the moments before the accident to walk away. Then the sickening twist and the ice rushing towards her, one arm out in front of her in a vain attempt to break her fall.
She curled her fist and rested it in her lap. ‘How long have I been here?’
‘Three days. You’ve been asleep for most of the time since you came out of surgery, but it’s great that you’re healthy. You’ll be on the mend soon. I’ll get the doctor now, then you can visit with your family. They’ve been quite anxious to see you awake.’
‘They?’ she echoed, puzzled. Her father was her only family. Had been since... Carla swallowed as tears pierced her eyelids, surprising her.
She hadn’t cried since that fateful night when she was ten years old. She’d known then that tears would earn her nothing but a sharp tongue and dire punishment and had quickly wised up.
‘Sì,’ the nurse responded. ‘Your papà has been here throughout. He left about an hour ago, just before your young man arrived. He’s been haunting the halls ever since his arrival.’ The older woman cast her a sly glance. ‘You’re lucky to have such a passionate man in your life.’
‘I...what...?’
The nurse patted her hand. ‘Don’t fret. The doctor will be here soon.’ She exited, leaving Carla in a deeper state of confusion than before.
Pull yourself together.
Grabbing the remote that adjusted the bed, Carla slowly raised herself up, just as the doctor arrived.
‘Signorina Nardozzi, it’s good to see you awake.’
Carla nodded a reply, then lay there patiently as she was checked over, the fog clearing with each passing second, and with it a heart heavy with foreboding and regret.
The accident had happened because she’d been fleeing her demons. Pushing herself beyond her endurance in light of what her father had done and their ongoing rowing. Finally understanding why he’d been even more callously demanding these past few months had done nothing to alleviate the pain lodged beneath her breast.
She had well and truly reached a crossroads with her father.
Carla forced herself to listen to the doctor’s prognosis. The state of her health was directly connected to her career. Despite the changes she intended to make, she needed to ensure her health remained optimal. The very roof over her head was dependent on it.
‘Your father mentioned you’re eager to return to training?’ the doctor disclosed once he’d reeled out his list of dos and don’ts. ‘Your next figure-skating event is in two months, I believe?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. It wasn’t a championship event, but an important one nonetheless.
The portly man frowned. ‘I advise against any form of training for a few weeks. Two weeks of total rest if you heal fast enough. Four weeks just to be on the safe side before you begin any strenuous exercise. Your wrist on the other hand will need a little longer than that.’
‘What about publicity work—photo shoots and such? I have commitments to fulfil.’ Her contract with J Santino Inc. didn’t include lying about in hospital beds. She was surprised Javier hadn’t sent his lawyers after her already considering the stringent clauses in her contract.
The doctor’s frown deepened. ‘I strongly recommend that you take at least two weeks without any stress on your body. After that, perhaps if you agree to engage private care—’
Carla shook her head. ‘That won’t be necessary. I can take care of myself—’
‘She’ll have private care from the day she’s released. You have my word on that, Doctor.’
Carla’s breath caught in her throat at the deep voice that preceded the sleek, powerfully built man who entered the room.
So...she