Bedded by the Italian Playboy (3 page)

“Do
you need me to do anything else?” Katie asked.

“Your
job.”

The
smile faded at his rebuke and she blushed. Dominic felt no guilt. Instead he
strode into the staff area, through to his office, grabbed the car keys and
made his way back across the lobby. Honestly, he thought as he opened the
driver side door, he should just drive himself until Ryan returned, this
waiting around was a waste of fucking time.

The
London
traffic was as
frantic as always once Dominic pulled out of the exclusive driveway that swept
its way up to the hotel. Cars shot out in both directions only to screech to a
halt when the traffic lights hit red, something they seemed to do far more
quickly than anywhere else in the country.

He
cursed, annoyance and irritation filling him. Usually he’d be reading through
emails—and God knew there was enough of them—whilst making his way to the
office and now he was forced to spend his precious time in traffic jam after
traffic jam! It was completely unacceptable and only served to exacerbate his
increasingly bad mood, and yet what choice was there? None he accepted and
joined the waiting traffic.

A
few minutes later and he was no closer to making his meeting until at last a
break came in the flow. Dominic hit the accelerator forcefully before turning
to make a left towards Knightsbridge. The car—his very fast car—went from zero
to far too quick in less than a few seconds and even as he smiled, because at
last he was moving, he realized something wasn’t quite right. What he didn’t
know, because he hadn’t seen, but the feeling of unease came and then the sound
of a shriek.

He
hadn’t even seen her coming.

He,
and she, had no chance.

Anger,
irritation, annoyance, it all crystallized as a jolt of pure adrenaline zinged
through his body. He slammed his foot down on the brake just as a flash of
blonde hair filled his vision. He hit the pedal harder than he’d hit the
accelerator, and he was quick.

He
just wasn’t quick enough.

Chapter Three

Rachel
was having trouble processing what had just happened.

She
was cold. Why was she cold?

And
the floor was hard, gritty, and it hurt. Why did it hurt?

Where
was she?

She
tried to look up, because even though she was confused, even though pain seared
along the side of her head, one thought was very clear.
Dominic Rimeria. Her mark. The mission.
It bubbled around her
rattled brain, burning and urgent. And the timing had to be very exact, didn’t
it? Hadn’t her sisters drilled that fact into her over and over again? He would
be waiting in the hotel this very minute. Waiting for Paul who would not arrive
for at least another ten minutes—just as they planned—and it was crucial he saw
her. Crucial! If she messed it up....

She
shook her head and scrunched her eyes shut to try and clear the confusion only
to have a searing pain hit all over again.
Damn
it.

“Lyra?”
the name slipped out even though she knew in a logical part of her brain
somewhere that Lyra was not here. But calling out for one of her sisters was so
natural Rachel didn’t question it.

“I
am afraid not. But it is okay,
Cara
.
Tell me where it hurts.”

The
voice washed over her like honey. Soft. Soothing. And inexplicably Rachel found
herself relaxing ever so slightly. Someone had come over to help. In
London
of all places! Such
a thing was unheard of in her world, except…well she was in the posh part now
wasn’t she, and maybe the rules were different here?

“Miss?”

Italian,
she thought. How odd. How fluky. And he was prompting her whilst she sat sort
of slumped, thinking about coincidences and wondering where her sisters were.
Get it together!

“What
did you say?” she asked, the words slow off her tongue.

“I
asked where it hurts,” the man said.

“Oh.
Just my head I think,” Rachel replied, reaching up to rub her palm over the
area in question.

A
hand shot out. Warm. Tanned. Large. It grasped hers and stilled her movement.
“Try not to move. Relax. Take a deep breath.”

The
deep breath…yes, that she could do, but despite what the honey-voiced man said,
Rachel knew she had somewhere to be and that meant moving. So she did. Degree
by aching degree she lifted her head only to collide with the greyest pair of
eyes she had ever seen. They were like smoke made into solid form she thought a
little wildly. So unusual, so out of place…and yet oddly familiar.

“It’s
okay,” the man said. “Do not worry. I am here to help.”

To
help. Her hand tingled where he held it in his own and she found herself, oddly
and completely, unable to look away from his gaze. There was something in his
eyes that
made her shiver, a look, a question. How
confusing!

“You
were the driver?” she asked slowly even as the events of the last few minutes
raced through her mind.

“Yes,”
the man said. “I was. Am.” He shook his head. “I almost hit you.”

Yes,
but she’d been hurrying along, hadn’t she? Just a couple of minutes from the
London Grande, Dominic Rimeria’s hotel, she’d thought to race across the road
rather than wait for the lights to turn again. Time was of the essence, after
all. He’d be waiting Lyra and Penny had warned. Probably in a bad mood at the
necessity of having to do so, but if she worked it right…if he just had a
chance to see her…that was all it would take she’d been assured. Dominic was
notorious for his taste in women. Notorious for taking what he desired the
moment he saw it. Of course he was just as notorious for letting it go the
moment he tired of it.

“I
almost hit you,” her rescuer repeated, interrupting her frantic thoughts. “It
was a very close run thing.”

 
“Yes….” She played that moment through her
mind and winced. The car bearing down, her shriek and jumping aside, hitting
the ground hard, directly on the side of her head. But it
was
her fault, not the driver’s. She’d been so busy hurrying,
worrying and rehearsing her lines. Nerves bubbling around in her stomach, the
headache that had started at home still lingering. Likely she had not been
paying attention.

And
now this. Despairingly Rachel looked down at her wonderful dress that Lyra had
worked so hard to get, now dirtied from her fall, to her knees where two holes
in her tights showed the scrapes the
London
pavement had given her. Her palms too were a little raw and no doubt her
perfectly curled hair was in complete disarray. She was a mess! How on earth
was she going to capture Rimeria’s attention looking like this? It had been so
important that he saw the woman she wanted him to believe she was. Perfectly
presented. All glowing hair and flowered sunshine. Now though? Now she looked
like some sort of waif.

How
could it have all gone wrong already?

“It
was my fault,” the honey-voiced man said. “I was driving too fast. I cannot
apologize enough.”

“No,
I raced across the road,” Rachel said automatically. “It’s my fault. If you
could just help me up?”

“
Dios
, I am not sure how wise it is to be
moving.”

“I’m
fine,” Rachel insisted though in reality she wanted to just curl up on the
pavement and weep. Her mission over before it had even begun? Because the fact
of the matter was if she didn’t have access to Dominic there was no way she
could get access to the other things she needed, namely his money. How was she
going to face her sisters?

“You
are injured.”

“I’m
fine,” she insisted. “You
didn’t
hit
me. It just hurts because I fell.”

“You
will at least allow me to drive you home, no? Where shall I take you?” He held
out his free hand, and with both of hers grasped in his, lifted her to her feet.
Even fully stood Rachel barely reached his shoulders and she took a moment to
regain her balance. To deal with the pounding in her head. He was far too tall,
she thought, his grey eyes too….

Oh shit.
All at once it
all clicked into place—just as it should have several minutes ago, just as it
would
have if she hadn’t been so
confused—and at light speed a blush travelled all the way from Rachel’s toes to
the very tips of her hair.

Coincidence?
There was no such thing. No wonder the eyes had seemed familiar. No wonder he
called her
Cara
…standing in front of
her, the man who had almost run her over, was none other than the man she was
on a mission to trap. Dominic Rimeria! Her mark.

Of
all the luck.

Sweet
relief filled her, quickly followed by a surge of adrenaline. She gasped. She
couldn’t help herself. Blushed again, gasped again, and then lowered her gaze.
The mission was not a loss at all, she thought quickly, far from it. In a crazy
way it had started in a more explosive manner than she could ever have hoped
for. He’d noticed her all right. He had no choice. He’d almost run her over!

“It’s
okay,” he soothed, probably mistaking her gasp for a pain-filled sort of one.
“I will take you wherever you need me to. Where is your home?”

He
still held her hands. In fact Rachel realized his thumbs were rubbing little
circles over her skin, leaving tingles in their wake. Confusion returned along
with the nerves, nerves the likes of which she hadn’t known in quite some
years. But then that wasn’t a surprise was it, she thought. So much rested on
the next few minutes. The moment had finally come. Time to show what she was
made of. To prove once and for all that her sisters could rely on her just as
she’d relied on them all these years.

Time
to trap her mark.

“I
don’t live here,” she said carefully, the rehearsed lines tripping off her
tongue more easily than she’d imagined. “I’m down on a trip. Just a long
weekend. I planned to do a little shopping, see some sights.”

“You
came alone?” Dominic asked.

She
cudgeled her brain to find the rest of the lies. “Yes. My family is still in
Chelmsford
. This was
supposed to be my first trip to the capital on my own. I’m booked in at—”

“Nowhere
even half as grand as my own hotel,” Rimeria interrupted and Rachel knew
without a doubt that he was right. They’d picked her hotel because it was as
cheap as they could get without screaming gold digger, the sort of place a
nice, middle-class girl would stay, and she’d seen the Grande London both in
pictures and in real life and it was magnificent. In her research she’d read
that the hotel was considered to be pure decadence and was booked up for months
in advance. Movie stars, politicians, diplomats—they were all flocking to stay
under Dominic’s roof.

“Your
hotel?” she asked, all innocence.

Rimeria
nodded and guided her very gently over to his car. It was parked sort of half
on the curb where he’d swerved to avoid her and more than one passing motorist
was shooting them a dirty look as they had to drive around it. “I own a hotel
here in
London
,”
he said.

“I
have a cousin with a small bed and breakfast in the
Lake
District
,” Rachel lied, though this one came out a little shakier
than the last. Rimeria was holding her carefully and his body so close to hers
was making her feel odd. She shook herself inwardly and tried to find the rest
of the lie. “It’s a beautiful place. She cooks eggs for breakfast straight from
the chicken’s coop.”

“Of
course.” He shot her an indulgent look, just as her carefully planned words
meant him to. “You will allow me to take you to my hotel?” he asked. “I will
ask my on-site doctor to ensure you are as well as you say. He is very skilled
and you will be able to gather yourself comfortably.”

Excitement
shot through her at his words, quickly followed by a moment of panic and then a
moment of confusion. Could it really be this easy? And yet even as that thought
came Rachel knew she had to be careful, could not be too eager. Dominic liked
to chase Lyra had told her. To be the one to make others comply with
his
demands. She paused and looked up
at him, suddenly struck anew by just how good looking he was in person. Sure,
she’d seen his photos many, many times. But they didn’t convey everything. How
tall he was, how angular his face, how expressive his eyes. She swallowed carefully,
the motion making her head ache and took a deep breath.

“He’s
fit as fuck,” Penny had said the moment they’d confirmed him as Rachel’s
target. “And no doubt charming to boot. But detach yourself from that, sweetie.
Take a step back and view it from a distance. If you can’t none of this will
work.”

Take
a step back. So she did, moving away from him a little and reaching up to rub a
hand along her aching head. “I don’t know—”

“You
will be perfectly safe with me,” he interrupted, moving her a little closer to
his car as he did so, negating the distance she’d tried to put between them.
“You must not be concerned that I will harm you. Allow me to take you to safety
and ensure you are well. I cannot allow you to go to your hotel alone. What if
you have concussion or something of the sort?”