Worth Everything (18 page)

“It won’t matter. They still won’t accept me.” She shook her head, pushed her hair away from her face. “No one accepts me. I have no family.”

“You have the Renaldis. You told me more than once your brothers are working their hardest to help you.” They stayed in contact with her, especially Matteo. Gavin had spoken to Rafe only a few days ago with questions in regards to Stasia’s emotional state. They worried about her, didn’t believe her when she said everything was all right. All three of them wanted Stasia back in Italy, working at Renaldi.

But she was so focused on earning acceptance from the Worth brothers, she couldn’t see her family was waiting for her. Wanting her back.

“I could lose them. They could forget me. My so-called father made sure the possibility is there. And now these men, these Worth people who think they are so high and mighty, as if they are above me and can look down their nose at me. They don’t want me anywhere near their family or their business.” She sniffed, disgust and misery written all over her pretty face.

“Not true. You heard Alex.” Alex would always do right and be fair. It was in his blood, and if
Stasia
was blood, then he would stand by her and rectify the situation.

“Oh, he said all the right things, but I doubt he wants me to
interfere
with the family. I’m the interloper, you see. And even if they do somewhat accept me into the fold, they’ll view me as the enemy for the rest of my life. I may as well not even bother contacting them anymore.” She grabbed a discarded chopstick, tapping it against the edge of the plate.

“Now don’t go saying that,” Gavin started, but she cut him off with a look.

“It’s true and you know it. You saw how they were, especially Hunter.” The tapping increased its pace, setting him on edge.

“Hunter can be an asshole to anyone.” He’d heard Alex say that more than once. The guy was charming, extremely good at his job and equally extremely protective of those he cared for, which earned him the reputation of acting like a guard dog when a stranger got too close.

Like Stasia did.

“Don’t take it personally,” he said, mostly to calm her down. But he knew she had and didn’t blame her for it either. All the scathing remarks Hunter had hurled her way had most definitely been personal. The guy knew how to go for the throat.

She snapped the chopstick in half, tossed the remnants on the table with a loud clatter. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s being attacked.”

“He didn’t mean it. He’s afraid. And when you have a snarling, scared animal backed in a corner, he lashes out any way that he can.”

“I’m not backing him into a corner, I’m trying to tell him the truth.”

“And he doesn’t believe you. Hence his defensiveness,” he countered.

“So that’s what we’re calling being a complete asshole these days? Defensiveness?” Her voice rose, her cheeks flamed pink. She was good and pissed now.

Which he preferred to her being sad and desolate.

“He has a rather gruff reputation in the business.” Now Gavin was the one being defensive.

This entire case was starting to make him crazy.

“I don’t care. He was awful to
me.
He doesn’t believe a word I say. I bet he fully expects that DNA test to come back negative.” This was Stasia’s absolute worst fear. She couldn’t help but think it would happen.

And then what would she do?

“He hates me,” she continued when Gavin hadn’t said anything. “Funny how the one I look most like absolutely despises me.”

“It is pretty ironic,” Gavin agreed.

She sent him a withering stare. “Do you think I look like him? Hunter?”

He was quiet for so long, he made her nervous. And when he still didn’t speak, she felt like she was going to crawl out of her skin. “Say something!”

“You look like him.” He studied her much like the Worth brothers had earlier. “It’s in the eyes and the shape of your face. From here up.” He held his hand above his mouth. “You resemble him strongly.”

Relief trickled through her. “You believe me, don’t you? That Michael Worth was my father?”

The incredulous look that came over his face stunned her. Her words stunned him, clearly. “I can’t believe you would ask that. Of course I believe you. Why do you think I’m here, helping you?”

“I’m starting to doubt myself, you know.” She picked up another chopstick, dragged it through the food that still sat on the plate, untouched. “What if this is all some sort of cruel hoax? What if my mother slept with all sorts of men when she split from my father? Who knows who my father could be?”

“Your mother wouldn’t be so mean as to play such a hoax on you, Stasia. No matter what you think of her, no matter how badly the two of you are getting along at the moment, I don’t believe she would be that awful to you.”

“You’re right. She wouldn’t.” Stasia closed her eyes, leaned her head forward. “I’m so confused, so sick of this. I don’t know what to do anymore, what to say, what to think.”

“Don’t think.” He settled his hand on the back of her neck, his fingers gently pressing into her skin. “Relax tonight. Try not to let it all get to you.”

“Too late.” It would forever get to her. Didn’t he see this?

“I didn’t get along with my mother either,” Gavin said, his tone casual.

She stiffened beneath his touch. It wasn’t like Gavin to share personal information. “What about your father?”

“He was never in my life. I…I don’t really know who he is.” Gavin started massaging her in earnest, his fingers working magic on the tight knots in her neck. The tension slowly ebbed as he rubbed and prodded and she relaxed her shoulders, kept her eyes closed, concentrating on the way he touched her.

The way he made her feel.

“Why didn’t you get along with your mother?”

“Our life was…nothing like yours. I grew up poor. My mom worked dead-end jobs or didn’t work much at all. And I was a pain in her ass, especially when I was a teenager. I did things I shouldn’t have. I stole things. I did drugs. I was your stereotypical teenage troublemaker.”

Shock coursed through her. She couldn’t imagine Gavin as a stealing, drug-taking teen. That he’d cleaned up his life so completely was admirable. “You probably think I’m a spoiled little girl constantly having fits.” Embarrassment filled her. Her behavior bordered on the ridiculous. Gavin had grown up with nothing and made something of himself when he could’ve ended up a complete mess. She’d been handed everything and now that it was taken away from her, she stomped her foot and expected immediate action.

“I don’t. You’re upset. Your reactions are valid.” He smoothed his fingers down her nape with the gentlest of touches, sending gooseflesh scattering all over her skin. “You need to be strong and stand up for what you believe in.”

“It’s so hard,” she admitted, hanging her head low.

“Remind yourself that you have your brothers. The Renaldis.” When she was about to protest, he cut her off. “You do. Don’t deny it. Maybe you should reach out to your mom too. You’re both hurt and lashing out because of it. Don’t make the mistake I did,” Gavin said softly.

Stasia turned to look at him, her breath lodging in her throat at the sincerity in his expression, the worry shining in his gaze. “What mistake was that?”

“Once I became busy with my own life, I rarely saw my mom. I didn’t make enough time for her and then I lost her forever.” Reaching out, he cupped her cheek, his fingers stroking her skin. “You’ll regret it.”

Her throat ached with emotion and she swallowed it down, leaning into his touch. He understood her and that meant the world to her. “You’re right,” she whispered.

“You should take a bath,” he murmured. “It’ll relax you.”

“That sounds nice.” She was tired. The last week’s events—heck, the last month’s events—were catching up with her, sending her straight into exhaustion. “I might fall asleep in the tub, though.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t. Come on.” He reached for her arm, helped her stand. She leaned against him, thankful for his strength, for the way he took control of things when she didn’t want to deal with any of it. “Let’s get your tub started and you can strip.”

“You’re just doing this so you can see me naked,” she mumbled as he led her down the hall toward his bedroom and master bathroom.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating from his chest, against her ear her where she leaned her head. “You caught me. I’m nothing but a pervert.”

“I happen to like perverts.” She liked this particular one especially.

“Then I can happily oblige.” With a tug of his hand, he pulled her into the bathroom. She stopped and looked around, impressed by the completely enclosed glass and tile shower, the separate tub with jets. It was a huge bathroom with double sinks, plenty of cabinet space. A bathroom made for a couple.

She frowned, wondered if he’d lived with another woman before. He was a self-admitted workaholic, but then again, so was she. And she hadn’t let that tiny flaw stop her from having relationships in the past.

“This bathroom is amazing,” she said, glancing around as he turned on the tub, ran his hand under the stream of water to test the temperature. “It’s so big.”

“I know. The shower is great. Lots of room. I hate tiny showers.” He grabbed a bottle of something and poured it into the tub. The soothing scent of lavender and vanilla slowly permeated the room, and she wondered where it came from.

“Then you probably hated the shower at the guest house.” It was a narrow box of a shower, but the building was old, the tile intricate and rare. Her family hadn’t the heart to tear it all out and redo it.

“It was authentic to the tower, I take it. I can appreciate that.” He bent over again, offering her a nice view of his spectacular butt as he reached for a towel on the shelf above the tub. “Are you stripping yet?”

“You’re not watching, so no.” The sassy statement left her before she could think, and she laughed at the leer he gave her over his shoulder. “Finish your preparations and then I’ll strip for you.”

“Hmm, promise?” She laughed again, and he turned around to face her. “It’s good to hear you laugh.” His voice softened. “You’ve had a rough time of it today.”

The laughter died, but the pain from earlier had eased. Somewhat. “I have. Thank you for taking my mind off my troubles.” Being with Gavin like this, talking and arguing, teasing and laughing, helped her forget.

“I haven’t even started. Not really.” He settled on the tiled edge of the tub, crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was still in work clothes, navy blue trousers, white dress shirt rolled at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the neck, tie discarded the moment they arrived at his place. Hair mussed, the shadow of stubble lined his jaw and deliciously rumpled in that working-man-at-the-end-of-the-day way.

Arousal curled through her, heady and strong, and she braced her hand on the edge of the sink, thankful for something there to steady her. “What are your plans for me?”

He let his smoldering gaze trail over her, lingering on her chest, drifting downward slow, slower. Her skin tightened under his perusal, as if he physically reached out and touched her and she tightened her grip on the sink. Afraid her weak knees would send her crashing to the floor if she tried to stand on her own.

“I might shock you,” he finally said, once he’d looked his fill.

Anticipation made her smile. “I like the sound of that.” She liked this suggestively sexy side to Gavin when it made its appearance. There were many facets to him, each one equally fascinating. Intriguing.

He pushed away from the tub, approaching her with a predatory grace. “Time to get undressed, Stasia.”

Without a word she turned, offering her back to him. She wore a dress and needed his help with the zipper. Remaining silent as well, he slowly slid the zipper down, her back exposed on a whisper. He grazed her skin with the tips of his fingers, his touch sending a scattering of goose bumps across her flesh.

A shiver moved through her as he stepped away, though she could still feel his eyes on her. “Take it off,” he commanded, his voice deceptively gentle.

She did as he demanded without protest, letting the dress fall to her feet, kicking it away so it went skidding across the sleek tile floor. She wore no shoes, only pale pink panties and a matching bra. Turning slowly, she faced him, his appreciative gaze making her hold her head up high, her chest thrust forward. Hard nipples pressed against the lace front of her bra, and he studied them, his lips parting as if in preparation to taste them.

Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and she fought to ignore it. Decided to instead drive him crazy with lust, she reached behind her, unhooking the bra and discarding it with a few quick flicks of her fingers. Pushed her panties past her hips, down her legs, stepping out of them until she stood completely naked.

Her body was on trembling fire for him but she refused to make the first move. He wanted to give her a bath, and by God, she was going to get into that bathtub.

Even if it killed her.

He approached her, grasping her by the shoulders and turning her so she faced the almost full tub. “Get in, baby,” he murmured close to her ear.

She did so, thrilling at the rare term of endearment. He was all business, no fuss, most of the time. Get him in the bedroom, get the two of them naked, and he was the thoughtful, sexy, caring man she yearned to know more about. But he kept that part of him shielded. Closed off, only coming out at moments such as this one.