staring down at it.
What was that all about? Had that been a fourth man inhabiting his body?
What was she walking into? And with which man? Or would it be with all of them? With him changing from one to the other until he drove her mad with confusion, insane with wanting him—whoever he was—and self-destructing in the process?
Not that she had any choice. She’d enter his den, and wouldn’t exit it for the next year. It was doubtful she’d exit in one piece.
No. Not doubtful.
Impossible.
Four
“I mpossible!”
Vincenzo cocked his head at his valet’s stupefaction. The fondness Alonzo always stirred in him relaxed lips that had been spastic with tension since his conversation with Glory last night.
Even over the phone, she’d seeped under his skin and into his system and confounded his common sense. He shouldn’t have called her in the first place. But he’d been unable to stop. The indiscretion alone had been enough to expose his condition, but he hadn’t left anything to her imagination, had told her in exhaustive detail he was burning for her.
Then at the first tinge of disappointment and indignation in her voice, he’d offered anything at all in hope of erasing it. He’d taken back every precaution his mind—not to mention his attorney—insisted were indispensable to protect him.
He jerked back to the moment as Alonzo, in a totally uncharacteristic action, grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Are you teasing me? Because I was lamenting the other day that it seemed both of us would end up shriveled-up bachelors? But…you never joke.” Alonzo’s vivid green eyes widened. “ Dio. You mean it. You are getting married.”
He hadn’t told Alonzo why, or how. For reasons he wasn’t up to facing, he wanted Alonzo to think this was real. And to treat the whole thing accordingly. To treat Glory accordingly.
“When? How? ” Alonzo grabbed his own head in dramatic disbelief. “You met a woman, fell in love with her, decided to marry her, asked her and had her agree without my knowledge?”
That would have been an impossibility, indeed. Alonzo was almost his shadow, had been indispensable to him since his teens, even before he lost his parents, smoothing out his daily life, anticipating his needs and providing him with hassle-free, meticulous support and problem solving in everything that didn’t involve work and most things that did. He’d only gotten Glory’s visit under Alonzo’s radar because he’d sent him on some needless errand. Not that Alonzo would have recognized her. In a weird coincidence, Alonzo had taken his one and only prolonged leave of absence during Vincenzo’s affair with Glory. It was probably the reason she’d been able to breach him that totally….
Oh, who was he fooling? He’d been the one and only reason. He’d left himself wide-open to her. And as she’d shrewdly commented, he was doing it again.
Clearly unaware of his turmoil, Alonzo pursued his own perplexity. “But most important, who?” Alonzo grimaced as if at an unsavory thought. “Please, don’t tell me it’s one of those women you parade for the paparazzi!”
This was another of the privacies that only Alonzo was privy to. That Vincenzo’s reputation had been manufactured. By him. To keep hopeful and gold-digging women away. To keep women away, period. He’d found a ruthless playboy’s image much more effectively off-putting than a reclusive scientist-prince’s. Around a year after breaking up with Glory, he’d started hiring “escorts” wherever he went, to paint the image he wanted.
Not that he hadn’t been with women outside his propaganda campaign. He’d tried. If not for long. After a few encounters had ended with him being unable to…rise to the occasion, he’d given up. Alonzo had even once asked if Vincenzo had changed his mind about his orientation, asking if he could take the glad tidings to the gay community that Vincenzo might be on the market soon.
Alonzo had been
What was that all about? Had that been a fourth man inhabiting his body?
What was she walking into? And with which man? Or would it be with all of them? With him changing from one to the other until he drove her mad with confusion, insane with wanting him—whoever he was—and self-destructing in the process?
Not that she had any choice. She’d enter his den, and wouldn’t exit it for the next year. It was doubtful she’d exit in one piece.
No. Not doubtful.
Impossible.
Four
“I mpossible!”
Vincenzo cocked his head at his valet’s stupefaction. The fondness Alonzo always stirred in him relaxed lips that had been spastic with tension since his conversation with Glory last night.
Even over the phone, she’d seeped under his skin and into his system and confounded his common sense. He shouldn’t have called her in the first place. But he’d been unable to stop. The indiscretion alone had been enough to expose his condition, but he hadn’t left anything to her imagination, had told her in exhaustive detail he was burning for her.
Then at the first tinge of disappointment and indignation in her voice, he’d offered anything at all in hope of erasing it. He’d taken back every precaution his mind—not to mention his attorney—insisted were indispensable to protect him.
He jerked back to the moment as Alonzo, in a totally uncharacteristic action, grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Are you teasing me? Because I was lamenting the other day that it seemed both of us would end up shriveled-up bachelors? But…you never joke.” Alonzo’s vivid green eyes widened. “ Dio. You mean it. You are getting married.”
He hadn’t told Alonzo why, or how. For reasons he wasn’t up to facing, he wanted Alonzo to think this was real. And to treat the whole thing accordingly. To treat Glory accordingly.
“When? How? ” Alonzo grabbed his own head in dramatic disbelief. “You met a woman, fell in love with her, decided to marry her, asked her and had her agree without my knowledge?”
That would have been an impossibility, indeed. Alonzo was almost his shadow, had been indispensable to him since his teens, even before he lost his parents, smoothing out his daily life, anticipating his needs and providing him with hassle-free, meticulous support and problem solving in everything that didn’t involve work and most things that did. He’d only gotten Glory’s visit under Alonzo’s radar because he’d sent him on some needless errand. Not that Alonzo would have recognized her. In a weird coincidence, Alonzo had taken his one and only prolonged leave of absence during Vincenzo’s affair with Glory. It was probably the reason she’d been able to breach him that totally….
Oh, who was he fooling? He’d been the one and only reason. He’d left himself wide-open to her. And as she’d shrewdly commented, he was doing it again.
Clearly unaware of his turmoil, Alonzo pursued his own perplexity. “But most important, who?” Alonzo grimaced as if at an unsavory thought. “Please, don’t tell me it’s one of those women you parade for the paparazzi!”
This was another of the privacies that only Alonzo was privy to. That Vincenzo’s reputation had been manufactured. By him. To keep hopeful and gold-digging women away. To keep women away, period. He’d found a ruthless playboy’s image much more effectively off-putting than a reclusive scientist-prince’s. Around a year after breaking up with Glory, he’d started hiring “escorts” wherever he went, to paint the image he wanted.
Not that he hadn’t been with women outside his propaganda campaign. He’d tried. If not for long. After a few encounters had ended with him being unable to…rise to the occasion, he’d given up. Alonzo had even once asked if Vincenzo had changed his mind about his orientation, asking if he could take the glad tidings to the gay community that Vincenzo might be on the market soon.
Alonzo had been
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