Now that Raphael was marrying Pia, there would be no contest for the CEO position. With 70 percent of the controlling stock in his hands, no one would ever again rival Raphael’s powerful position. No one would ever take away the most valuable thing from Raphael—his wealth, his status and more than anything, his power.
For that was the only thing that defined Raphael Mastrantino.
And that power was the only reason he had proposed to Pia.
Because, she knew without doubt, Giovanni would have given Raphael Vito Automobiles for only one thing in return.
A ring on her finger.
* * *
With Gio nowhere to be seen, and family members—both Vitos and Mastrantinos—arriving as early as four, Pia found no respite anywhere in the house. Not that she could escape the misery of her own thoughts if she were alone.
At the risk of seeming churlish to Portia and Raphael’s sisters, she had refused to dress for the party. At least not until she saw him. Not until she cleared up this matter with him.
Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt of Raphael’s that she had borrowed from his apartment one night, she was about to bolt to a café in the village when someone grabbed her and pushed her into Gio’s study, thankfully empty of well-meaning relatives.
Raphael stood leaning against the door, devouring her as hungrily as she did him.
The sight of him hit her hard, sending such a pulse of longing through her that she swayed. His clothes for once weren’t perfect, his eyes sported dark circles.
And yet he was so dear to her heart. An extension of herself.
Other things were more important to him than her. Even that she had accepted. But if the very foundation, the existence of their relationship was because she was Gio’s heir—could she live with that?
“Ciao, bella.”
“Did you just get back from Tokyo?”
“Not ten minutes ago.”
“Raphael, we have to—”
Not a word emerged from her mouth before he slammed her into the door none too gently and his mouth covered hers. All her misery evaporated under the hungry onslaught of his lips.
“Dio, I have missed you, I have missed this body and now the bloody house is crawling with cousins and aunts.” His lips fused to hers, his hand crawled under the sweatshirt that she was wearing.
Filling his hands with her breasts, he growled his approval at her braless state. Past the point of no return, even knowing that this passion would only make things worse when she confronted him, Pia couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t stop herself from mindlessly rubbing up against him. Couldn’t stop herself from stealing this incredible pleasure, this closeness with him.
“I missed you too.” She pulled at his hair and bit his lower lip, frustration making her reckless. “I needed you, Raphael, God, how I needed you.” A strangled cry escaped her when he rubbed his whiskers against her nipple, and then ensconced it in the wet warmth of his mouth. “I hate your job. I hate that you’re never there when I need you. I hate that—”
His teeth tugged gently at her nipple and Pia lost rational thought.
As if sensing her own edgy need for him, a torrent of Italian fell from his mouth. He praised her, he told her in elaborate detail how much he had missed her, how he had taken himself in hand one night in his hotel room imagining it was her mouth again. Pia was sobbing by the time he unzipped her jeans and then his trousers, begging shamelessly for him to do all the things he was promising by the time he lifted her up against the door.
She wrapped her legs around his hips and he drove into her wet heat.
Guttural groans colored the air.
Head thrown back, arms vined around his neck, Pia gave herself over to the incredible sensation spiraling through her pelvis as Raphael plunged and withdrew with sure, fast thrusts.
And lost in the indescribable pleasure, lost to the magic he wove, she couldn’t stop the words. “I love you, Raphael…and I hate you for what you’re doing to me.”
His sweat slicked body stilled around her, his dark eyes staring at her with shock. Tense muscles jutted out of his shoulders.
“Pia?”
But far too gone now, Pia buried her mouth in his neck and bit him, urging him to move.
On the next thrust up, he kissed her. Tongues tangled, teeth bit. And he moved inside her, with desperately hard thrusts, without the finesse she had come to know from him.