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If anything her answer drew an even deeper frown from him. ‘Is that supposed to reassure me?’
‘I wasn’t aware that you needed my reassurance. Just my acquiescence to your every demand.’
His eyes darkened. ‘You laid down the rules of our relationship, querida. Don’t complain now that I’m playing by your standards.’
Carla was puzzling over that cryptic remark when he shut the door and left her in peace for the first time since waking up in hospital. She didn’t doubt that she’d invited some degree of the hell Javier seemed intent on visiting upon her. But overall his actions pointed to a deeper reaction to what she’d done to warrant his almost volatile anger. Had she really bruised his ego that much? How could she have, when he’d been associated with some of the most captivatingly beautiful women in the world, both before and after their unfortunate one-night stand?
To complete her ablutions, she limped to the sink, washed up, and lifted her gaze to the mirror. With growing horror, she examined the bags under her eyes and the unkempt nest of her thick hair. She almost giggled hysterically at the thought of her father seeing her this way. For as long as she could remember, Olivio had demanded perfection in everything she did. She’d granted it. Because to do otherwise would’ve incurred his wrath. Besides, it’d been easier playing the perfect princess. It provided the flawless façade to hide behind. Seeking and attaining perfection meant she didn’t have to acknowledge the flawed individual behind the mask.
Carla stared into the mirror, her heart thumping hard as she acknowledged that the shell had well and truly cracked. Her eyes looked bruised and haunted. But then what was new? Pain and betrayal were effective tools in eroding any chance of finding peace even while doing what one loved—
‘Carla?’
The harsh rap of her name brought her up short. Quickly ru
First she needed to deal with the man intent on making her pay dearly for her one monumental mistake.
* * *
The moment the doctor gave her the all-clear to leave later that afternoon, Javier swung into action.
‘Your father is having your things brought over. We’ll stay at my hotel tonight and fly out in the morning.’
She smoothed her hand over the dark orange dress and matching shoes she’d found in her hospital closet. With the help of the nurse, she’d taken a quick shower and pulled her hair into its customary bun. The effort to make herself presentable had been worth it when she’d emerged from the hospital to find a crowd of fans cheering at her apparent recovery. As always, she’d been silently awed and a little intimidated at being the object of such intense scrutiny. Although she hadn’t been willing to admit it at the time, she’d been grateful for Javier’s solid presence beside her. Especially when she’d caught a glimpse of the latest newspaper headline.
‘Don’t I have to deal with the police, seeing as Tyson Blackwell is to be charged?’
‘We’ll deal with it this afternoon, if you’re feeling up to it. If not, we’ll handle it later. I’ve spoken to the authorities. They don’t really need your statement to charge him.’
‘They don’t?’
He shook his head. ‘Angelis had a member of your father’s staff watching over you. Blackwell was filmed on video pushing you into making that dangerous jump.’ His jaw tightened, his features cast in shadow as the car moved through traffic. ‘Why did you do it?’
Her breath emerged shakily as memory slashed across her mind. Her father had finally confessed, after condemning her for wanting to sever their professional relationship, that he’d gambled all her money away. Their only asset—albeit a heavily mortgaged one—was the estate in Tuscany.
‘I had a lot on my mind that morning. I wasn’t thinking clearly. And before you think me completely foolish, I’d done the jump successfully over a dozen times in the days before.’
‘Was your lack of concentration to do with Angelis? Or the chaos your father has made of your finances?’
She gasped. ‘You know about that?’
‘Your father has been pursuing this deal for the better part of a year, each time asking for more money. You didn’t think I’d do my homework on why he was so eager to sign you away?’
Her insides chilled. ‘So you know—’
‘I know everything, querida. And I have you in the proverbial palm of my hand. I can ruin you with the snap of my fingers.’
That debilitating state of e
‘Did you hear me, Carla?’
‘Loud and clear. You can ruin me. You can breathe fire. You can command the very heavens to crush me into a speck of dust. I acknowledge your almighty power over me. But please excuse me if I don’t genuflect. I’m battered and bruised enough as it is.’
A dark look entered his eyes. ‘What’s wrong with you? And I don’t mean physically. Your apathy is unbecoming in an athlete of your calibre. You haven’t risen to number one by being cowed by a few challenges.’
She laughed, the sound scratching her throat. ‘So you not only expect me to jump when you say how high, but I should have an attitude when I do it?’
‘I’m saying representing my company with such a defeatist demeanour will not work.’
‘I’ll work on practising my positive mental attitude before I step in front of the camera. Is that enough for you?’
‘This isn’t a joke, Carla.’
‘Trust me, I’m well aware of that.
She felt his probing stare for several minutes. But thankfully, he didn’t press her further before they drew up to the five-star hotel in the heart of Rome.
The hotel was renowned for its ultra-private accessibility to celebrities and she breathed a sigh of relief when they were ushered through a discreet entrance and into the private lift that serviced the penthouse.
Carla walked into the sumptuously decorated room and halted when she saw her father. Beside him, several familiar-looking suitcases were stacked neatly on a caddy, which a butler was in the process of wheeling away.
The ragged notion that she was once again being managed, herded where Olivio Nardozzi wanted her to be, tore through her.
‘I have a few phone calls to make,’ Javier a
Before she could respond, he strode off down the hallway. She told herself his abrupt absence didn’t affect her as much as the mild hollowing of her stomach indicated.
She stiffened as her father placed the crystal tumbler he’d been drinking from on a nearby antique cabinet and crossed the room.
‘Mia figlia, it’s good to see you on your feet again. I wanted to be there when you were released, but I was assured that everything was in hand. How are you feeling?’
She didn’t react as he leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. When he stepped back, she glimpsed the tight, haggard look on his face.
‘I’m fine,’ she replied, desperately squashing any heartache she felt over the state of their relationship. Her father had long driven home to her that he abhorred any show of emotion, especially that of weakness. In all things she was expected to be poised, controlled. Emotionless. It was the reason their ongoing rows writhed like a live wire between them.
‘I hope your time in hospital has brought you to your senses?’ he murmured in Italian.
Anguish ripped through her. ‘If by my senses you mean I’ve given up my bid to lead an independent life, then I’m sorry to disappoint you but my wishes remain the same,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘I’m still taking a break from ice skating, and no, I haven’t made up my mind how long that break will be. When I decide, I’ll let you know.’