His Expectant Lover (2 page)

Andie’s relieved glance changed quickly to apprehension with those words. Her eyes snapped up to St. Luc, not sure she’d heard him correctly. “In person?” she squeaked.

“Exactly, my dear,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders in a fatherly manner.

“But I’m supposed to…”

“Your stay has been extended,” St. Luc waved her concern aside, knowing exactly where she was going with her interruption. He led Andie away with a sharp look. “You do not ignore an
invitation
by that man,” he mumbled, hustling her through to the private area. “Here is his address,” St. Luc said, handing Andie the card. “You’re to deliver the dress to him immediately. I believe he is waiting for you.”

Andie nodded her head, still not sure why she had to deliver the dress in person. But she supposed this was how things worked in high fashion. Her agent probably would know more, but Andie couldn’t reach Johanna back in New York. Unfortunately, Andie didn’t have international service on her cell phone so she was here in Italy without any sort of connectivity.

“I’ll just grab my clothes,” she mumbled and hurried over to the main dressing room where she’d left her jeans and tee-shirt.

St. Luc compressed his lips, not sure how to tell her that the man in question probably wanted to take the dress off of her lovely body himself. The girl obviously didn’t know how wealthy and generous Antonio Alfieri was or she would be using this opportunity to further her career.

She really was exceptionally lovely, he thought as she walked away from him. It had been an inspired idea to get the shorter, curvier woman to walk out the most extraordinary dress from his new line. Her short stature alone had brought attention to his masterpiece, but her lovely smile – so different from the sourpuss expressions on the other models – had made her stand out even more. Not to mention, she was simply beautiful! Her brown hair was burnished with flecks of gold somehow and, because she ate more, she just looked healthier. That rosy glow on her cheeks gave her an unexplainable allure, which was only enhanced by her gorgeous blue eyes and that perfect, rosebud mouth.

Ah, Mr. Alfieri had chosen exceptionally well this time.

St. Luc spotted the irritating Shannon sifting through his pieces. She might be a true bitch, but Mr. Alfieri’s generous allowance gave her the freedom to purchase practically anything she wanted. It was time to help her decide, St. Luc thought with relish.

Over an hour later, the backstage area started clearing out and Andie had a chance to find a secluded corner so she could change clothes. When she pulled on her soft, well-worn jeans, she almost sighed with happiness. The dress might have been beautiful and outrageous, but it was almost painfully uncomfortable!

Andie carefully hung the dress on the specially made hanger, then covered it with the protective carrier. It had been an exciting new experience, walking in a high fashion show. Her normal catalog shoots were mostly done in a studio under hot lights and with temperamental, grouchy, demanding photographers.

“Where the hell are you going with that dress?” a vicious female voice demanded from behind Andie.

Andie smiled warily as she turned around, looking at the woman who had spoken. She was exceptionally pretty with blond hair and flaming green eyes. Her skin was flawless and her makeup enhanced her cat-like eyes. Andie could honestly say that she’d never seen anyone use fake eyelashes so perfectly. “I’m delivering it. Can I help you?” The woman looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place her face immediately.

Shannon walked over to the shorter woman, contempt in her eyes and a furious anger brewing inside of her. She’d caught the look between Antonio and this woman and didn’t like it. Not one little bit. “Stay away from Antonio,” she hissed. “He’s mine. We’re getting married.”

Andie looked down at the woman’s hand, noting that there wasn’t an engagement ring anywhere. “First of all, I don’t know who you’re talking about. St. Luc just asked me to deliver the dress. And secondly, I don’t know who you are engaged to, but I don’t steal men.”

Shannon was furious that the shorter woman wasn’t intimidated. She moved even closer, bending down so that her face was only a few inches away. “You don’t understand how this world works,” she spat. “I could ruin you with one phone call. You’ll never walk another catwalk again, so just back off!”

Andie laughed. So this was the viciousness that was rampant within the modeling world. She didn’t see it as often in the catalog sphere. That portion of the modeling world was competitive, but not cutthroat like this.

“I don’t know who you are talking about, but I’m leaving Italy in the next few hours. So whoever you think I’m stealing, he’s all yours because I won’t be here to take him away from you.”

Shannon knew this world, knew that the men in it were fickle and, if they found a new morsel, they could simply hop on their private jet and pursue her. And this particular morsel was fresh and lively – exactly what all the dirty old men with deep wallets (her kind of man) were after. But her current lover had deeper pockets than all of them combined, plus, he was gorgeous! There was no way she was giving Antonio up to some uppity chick like this one. “You were looking at him. I saw you,’ she snapped, moving closer.

Andie was tired, hungry and finished with spiteful women who thought they could push her around. She might not be one of the regulars on the catwalk but she had a deep sense of pride and she wasn’t going to be stomped on by a jealous, insecure woman. “I looked at a lot of people. It’s my job,” she came right back. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said and shifted the dress and her purse, walking out into the bright sunshine.

“I won’t!” Shannon snapped, grabbing the other woman’s arm and twisting cruelly. “Leave Antonio alone and I’ll forget you ever existed. Pursue him and you’ll regret it.”

Andie wasn’t going to take that kind of abuse. She twisted her arm just like her self-defense classes had taught her to do and broke the other woman’s hold. “Leave me alone,” she said as softly as possible under the circumstances. With that, she hurried out of the backstage area, slamming through the metal doors that opened onto the street.

Shannon followed, ignoring her throbbing hand as she raced after the departing woman. “Stay away from him!” she called out one more time, determined to save her relationship with the best lover she’d ever had, not to mention the wealthiest and most generous.

Andie ignored the latest outburst, diving into the first cab she found and giving the driver the address on the card. When they pulled away from the curb, Andie leaned back against the cracked seat, taking deep breaths and closing her eyes for a moment. This was a crazy industry, she thought, wondering how she could incorporate the life of a high-fashion model into her next story. Andie might model on the catalog circuit for money, but her real hope was to become a full time author. She’d written a mystery and spent several hours sending out letters to agents and publishers, hoping someone might want to publish her work.

So far, no takers. But she knew it was a good story. She knew she would eventually find the right publisher that would take the manuscript and make it an enormous success. Andie thought about the great mystery writers like Agatha Christie and Patricia Cornwell. They’d made it, and her stories were just as good. She simply couldn’t give up, she told herself. All the rejection letters from publishers and agents meant that she was getting closer. At least that’s what she tried to believe.

Andie focused on the scenery flying by and tried to come up with a new plot, a new twist. She should set her next story in Milan, she thought. It would turn things around a little and give her plot a different flavor. Milan was a bustling, busy city with beautiful, ancient architecture and lovely gardens.

Unfortunately, every time she started to come up with an idea, the handsome man from the show snuck into her thoughts. But who could blame her? He’d been so…gorgeous! And really huge! She’d instantly wondered if perhaps he was one of the male models, but then dismissed the possibility. He was too big for that crowd and besides, he’d been sitting in the front row. Those seats were reserved for the elite, the special guests.

Could her mystery man from the audience be the one the evil woman had been harping about? Perhaps the blond woman had been sitting next to him. She wasn’t sure. The moment she’d seen that man, she’d had eyes only for him. He’d been…amazing! So tall, so hard looking. Had there been a flash of vulnerability during that glance? Of surprise? Or was her silly heart just being ridiculous?

The cab pulled up outside of an enormous office building. She paid the driver and stepped out, thinking that this couldn’t be the right address. She was delivering a beaded gown to a business address? That didn’t make any sense.

But maybe this was better, she thought. She would definitely be hesitant to deliver a dress to a private residence. She wouldn’t feel comfortable entering a man’s personal dwelling. It would seem too…dangerous.

Entering the lobby area, she walked up to the security guard. She explained her presence and the man looked down at a clipboard. When he saw her name, he handed her a badge and said, “Go to the fifteenth floor and speak to the receptionist there. She’ll check on Mr. Alfieri’s status.” The man spoke English well, for which Andie was grateful since her knowledge of the Italian language consisted of
ciao, arrivederci, pizza
and
grazie
.

She rode up in the elevator, wondering what all the other passengers were discussing. The elevator was filled with professional looking people, all speaking in rapid Italian. She looked down at her loose fitting jeans and her thin t-shirt, wishing she had something more sophisticated to wear. Thankfully, the rest of the crowd exited the elevator on the lower floors so by the time she reached the top level, she was alone and had given herself a stern lecture on being herself and not letting others intimidate her.

When she stepped off of the elevator, she was in a different room with yet another guard. He seemed to have communicated with the lobby guard, and was ready to give her more instructions. After several more hoops, she finally stepped out into a formal reception area and breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“I have a dress for Mr….” she looked down at the card, “Alfieri?” she asked, wondering if she’d pronounced it correctly or if she’d once again slaughtered the name. Looking back at the stunningly beautiful and sophisticated blond woman, she smiled, hoping she was in the right place. At that point, she’d hefted the dress from backstage to the cab, across the courtyard where the blazing sun was beating down on her, through three security checkpoints, and two elevators. Who had two different elevators in their building anyway, she thought to herself. And now she stood in front of a snooty receptionist who, although she was sitting, still managed to look down her nose at Andie’s jeans and t-shirt.

In other circumstances, Andie would have tried to primp a bit. But when the woman pursed her lips as if Andie was something she’d prefer to scrape off of the bottom of her shoe, she was too tired and too hungry to hold her tongue. “Look, I don’t care who this Alfieri guy is. I was told to deliver this stupid dress to this address and here I am. I’m hot, tired, my face hurts because of some makeup artist from hell and a stylist who tore out more than half of my hair. The cab drivers in this city are certifiably insane, and all I want is to sit in front of a giant pizza and a very large bottle of wine. So if you don’t mind, just tell me where to find this Alfieri guy and I’ll be out of your way.”

The woman was so astounded by Andie’s outburst that her hand flew up to her throat and her perfectly lipsticked mouth dropped open in horror.

“I’m certain Mr. Alfieri…”

“
Me ne occupo io, Fiorella
,” a deep voice said from the doorway off to the side.

Andie’s knowledge of the Italian language was definitely not up to translating that declaration, but she suspected the gorgeous man had said something like “Don’t worry about it.” Or maybe that’s what she’d hoped he’d said.

What she did understand was that the man walking towards her was the same man she’d seen in the audience. The same man who had previously had the vicious blond woman draped across his arm. The same man who had taken her breath away and was doing it yet again as he came closer.

Besides the instant jealously that heated her mind, she was stunned by how big the man was. She was five feet seven inches, which was tall for a woman. But she was still short compared to this man. He towered over her! If his height wasn’t bad enough, the man’s shoulders blocked out the floor to ceiling window behind him, and all the other light, for that matter.

“It’s you,” she whispered, staring up at him, taking in his blue eyes and incredible smile. It wasn’t so much that he was handsome, although he certainly was. It was more that there was a palpable confidence about him that set him apart from the other men of her acquaintance.

“You remember me,” he said, his deep voice floating over her skin. He took her hand and raised her fingers to his lips and she shivered in reaction, her eyes staring up at him in shock.

She smiled nervously and tried to pull her hand away from him, but he kept her fingers firmly in his hand. “You’re not an easy man to forget.”

“Nor are you,
cara
,” he replied.

She smiled, that silly sense of humor revving up and she said, “I’m glad I’m not an easy man to forget.” Her teasing sparked a startled chuckle from the man and Andie suspected that he didn’t laugh often. It sounded rusty and a part of her wanted very badly to help him laugh more often.