Bound by the Italian's Contract(11)

                No problem, as she’d made it clear she wanted nothing personal to do with him. Their association was all business. Good. That’s all he wanted from her as well.

                As they headed toward the airport and Italy, she appeared content to immerse herself in her miniature laptop before the flurry of their combined work began. Unlike his previous traveling companions, she showed no interest in making small talk during the past three hours as they prepared to leave Colorado.

                Not that he was complaining.

                He just wanted to get home to Italy and back to business while she delved into doing what he’d hired her to do. With space between them, he could find peace of mind.

                That was what he wanted. It remained to be seen if he would achieve it after putting himself through so much personal hell.

                * * *

                Caprice stared out the window, more frazzled over being secluded with Luciano than she was unnerved by the Denver traffic they whipped past. Seven years had passed since she’d spent this much time alone with a man.

                She’d vowed never to leave herself vulnerable again. Yet here she was, traveling for over an hour with him. So close she could reach over and touch him.

                Not that she would. Even if she had the desire to do so, there was absolutely nothing welcoming about his stern expression.

                Which was just as well. Too much was riding on the success of their mutual deal for her to relax.

                She wanted this job done as soon as possible. Only then could she return home.

                If Tregore Lodge was still under construction, she would cope with the inconvenience. Heavens knew she had a lot of details to see to before the launch of her renovated facility and a return to total independence.

                No matter what faced her in Italy, she would see it through. And really would her being in Luciano’s company again be that bad?

                Difficult to guess, she decided as she stole a glance at him behind the wheel of the gleaming silver Mercedes he’d rented. As they reached the brighter lights leading to the airport, his deceptively relaxed pose was at odds with his hard-as-nails expression.

                He’d always been demanding, a fact she attributed to his aggressive personality and his station. But he’d changed as well and she couldn’t tell if it was for the better.

                One thing was for sure, she would be right back in the thick of the elite world. Just like she was now, arriving at the private airport terminal in a rental car worth well over what she made in a year, scheduled to fly out on a private jet that cost at least a billion dollars.

                He swerved to pass a slower car, and she noticed the imperceptible way he favored his right shoulder. Had he always done that?

                At the lodge, she’d blamed his obvious discomfort on the hurried way he’d loaded her baggage into the car. Now it was obvious his shoulder was bothering him.

                “What’s wrong?” she asked, noticing his chiseled features were more haggard under the flash of streetlights as he whizzed around the curved interior airport roads with the ease of a racing car driver.

                “Nothing,” was his clipped reply.

                A lie, she was certain, if she’d read correctly that terse tone and body language that screamed pain. “Something is bothering you.”

                He wheeled into a parking space and cut her a scowl. “I have had very little sleep in nearly two days.”