“You’re far too excited, Giovanni. This is not good—”
“What do you think of my new granddaughter?”
Knowing that he wouldn’t get a word in until they talked about Pia, Raphael shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d custom ordered her at a store.”
The old man frowned. “What? Why?”
Raphael stared into his drink. But it was the long fluid line of Pia’s back, the drop of water that had run down her damp skin that he saw. The outrage in her eyes when he’d accused her. The hurt when he’d called her naive and meek.
“Raphael?” Gio prodded.
“She fits your requirements for a granddaughter a little too perfectly, don’t you think?”
A sneaky smile twitched around Gio’s lips. “So you admit that she is perfect.”
Raphael raked his fingers through his hair, frustration and something else—no, not something else. It was lust pounding at him. Lust that had never seemed so complicated or so fierce before. And the last thing he needed was for Gio to scent how attracted he was to Pia.
“I don’t mean it that way. An innocent, shy, clearly out of her depth orphan who travels across the world searching for her legacy, searching for her grandmother’s lover… Damn it, Gio, you’ve always been desperate for a child, for someone to love. She’s the perfect lure to tug at your heartstrings.”
“She’s nothing like my fiery Lucia—”
“Or her manipulative grandfather, if you’re truly that,” he added.
“Si. She’s young and sweet. I feel as if the burden of looking after Lucia was too much for her. No wonder that man preyed on her.”
Raphael scowled. “Did you even check the legitimacy of her claim before you advertised her to all of Milan with her inheritance hung around her neck like a sign?”
Gio frowned as the meaning sank in. “I have no doubt that she’s Lucia’s and my granddaughter.”
“Excuse me if I save my teary-eyed approval for later.”
“You have become a hardened ass, Raphael. Mistrustful of your own shadow.”
“I’m realistic. After three marriages, one would think you would be too. One would think you’d see beneath the wide-eyed innocence and the fragile naïveté.”
Silence met Raphael’s outburst. A pounding was beginning behind his eyes. Something was very wrong with this talk and yet he couldn’t place it.
Giovanni studied him over the rim of his wineglass. “I watched you watch her tonight. I heard some of the things you said to her. You were exceptionally cruel.”
Raphael blanched at the matter-of-fact words. He had been, and that was not counting the stuff he’d said later, at the pool. He didn’t like losing control of situations around him. He loathed losing control of himself. Thanks to her, both had happened tonight. And it had erased the little charm he usually had.
He’d aimed where it would hurt most and shot. He prided himself on his reputation for ruthlessness, and yet tonight it sat like acid in his mouth.
“And you didn’t come to her rescue, knowing what I would do. What the hell are you playing at, Gio?”
“I knew you would grill her, that you would try to poke holes in her story. I didn’t know you would dance with her, or hound her until she ran away from you. I didn’t know you would lose your legendary control.” He said it as if he was calculating a complex puzzle. “What did she say when you cornered her by the pool?”
A chill climbed up Raphael’s spine. He’d been so close to kissing her. If Gio had heard of it… “Christo, did you have the staff spying on us?”
Suddenly, the frown cleared. His eyes twinkled, in that satisfactory way that raised every hackle Raphael had. “You were more ruthless than usual. You are attracted to her…” His gruff voice deepened. “You want her.” Raucous laughter burst out of him, and he slapped his thigh hard.
Raphael scowled. He had a feeling this was what Giovanni had waited and watched for. “I’d like to remind you that the woman you’re talking about is your granddaughter.”
“She got behind your…defenses, isn’t that what they say? And you don’t like it. Tell me, Raphael, are you interested in Pia?”