Bound by the Italian's Contract(3)
“You never used to, unless it pertained to competition,” she said, and it was the truth. “What I meant was I hadn’t expected you to fly halfway around the world to speak with me.”
“It was no bother to coordinate my schedule to come here,” he said matter-of-factly. “I was already in Denver to interview a ski therapist, like yourself, when my assistant phoned to let me know you were seeking a financial backer.”
In a second, the stakes skyrocketed with competition thrown into an already tense equation, but she remained calm and determined to win his bid. “Good. I’m eager to discuss business.”
“As am I,” he said with a bite of impatience.
Game on. Having a rival meant she had one way to proceed—full tilt.
“Please,” he said as the elevator door whispered open, motioning her to precede him with a disarming smile that was likely meant to throw her equilibrium askew.
Immune to his charms, she returned his smile with a cool one of her own and stepped from lift. And came up short. She blinked, surprised to be standing in a short hallway with a single door at one end and carved double doors to her right.
“This way.” Luciano escorted her toward the double doors, where he reached around her, swiped a key in the slot and knuckled the door open. “I trust you don’t mind discussing business in my suite?”
“Not at all,” she said, stepping inside to regain the buffer of personal space he’d come too close to crossing.
The amazing view of the mountains from his private suite drew her to the windows. She welcomed the calm their rugged beauty always gave her, this grounding to reality that gave her strength.
“Thank you for showing interest in my proposal,” she said, turning to face Luciano, whose attention seemed riveted to a small laptop open on the desk. “If there’s anything in particular you wish to know about the designs I’ve envisioned for Tregore Lodge...”
“Your property is small and in need of intense restoration,” he cut in, not bothering to look at her.
She cursed the flush burning her face, a show of emotion that she’d never learned to control. “True. Tregore Lodge needs major updating to make it competitive again. But I believe it has much potential...”
“I don’t,” he said, rudely shooting down the momentum she needed to build before she had a chance to explain how she could establish a state-of-the-art rehabilitation facility there.
“If you feel that way, then why did you ask for this meeting?” she asked, the question burning holes in her patience despite her determination to maintain a business mien, despite the determination to finance her program.
“Simple. The only admirable investment on your property is you.”
“Is this some kind of joke?” she asked, needing to know she hadn’t misunderstood him.
“Not at all.” He studied her with eyes that took everything in and gave absolutely no emotion away, eyes that touched her as intimately as a caress, bold and without apology. “You hold my interest, Caprice. I want you.”
Seven years ago she would have fallen all over him, deliriously happy. But then she’d been innocent. Trusting.
She knew better than to trust a man now. Though this was the faintest glimmer of the playboy she’d known, passionate and direct, she took his remark as an insult.