Bound by the Italian's Contract(32)
His chest heaved and his blue eyes went black. “You insist on seeing it? Fine,” he said, throwing his hands in the air for the second, or perhaps third time, and the designers quickly left, leaving her alone with a very irate, very intense Italian.
She took a steadying breath and blew it out, determined to see this through, well knowing the consequences and the chances to gain. Her mind was set. Do-or-die time. She wanted this over and done with.
“When do we leave?” Caprice asked.
He combed his fingers through his hair and paced the room, clearly agitated. “I will take you there tomorrow.”
“Why waste the time? Can’t someone take me now?” she pressed, aware she was pushing him, aware this could go badly for her as it had the last time she’d pushed buttons she had no business pushing.
He whirled and stalked toward her, clearly furious. Panic nipped along her nerves, touching on old fears. She tried slipping behind the protection of the divan, but she wasn’t quick enough.
His big palms cupped her cheeks and her mind fizzed like champagne uncorked too quickly. Panic bubbled in her as well and she grasped his wrists, her gaze meeting his. And her tension popped, her fears gearing down to nothing. This was Luciano, the man she’d shared a room with sans sex. The man who was financing her dream. The man who’d moved the mountain of doubts and fears in her far too easily, expecting only one thing she was certain of—her compliance.
Easily won right now because she could drown in those fathomless blue eyes. If she let herself...
“Caprice, my rifugio is on a high, remote step to the north of us,” he said in a gruff voice that feathered along her skin. “It is near the Austrian border and will take an hour over a rough track to get there.”
She swallowed hard, debating the wisdom of spending the rest of the afternoon with him, especially as she knew how much his nearness affected her. How weak she could be with him if she let go. And that was the key. She couldn’t let go. She had to keep pushing forward, pushing hard for what she wanted. What she believed herself capable of doing.
What better reason could there be for wanting to take this reckless course?
None. At least not for her.
The longer she dawdled here following Luciano’s relaxed schedule, the more personal torment she would endure. She looked toward the day that she would put a period on this project and walk away with her head held proud. She would not slink off in the night as she’d done before.
“It’s still early, right?” she said, carefully extracting herself from his light hold to glance at the clock, pretending she was totally unaffected by him. “So if we leave now, it’ll take an hour to drive up. Even if we waste thirty minutes there, we would still be back at la Duchi Royal before five p.m.”
He snorted. “I don’t want to hear any complaints about the bumpy drive.”
“Hey, I grew up in the rugged Rockies. Rough mountains tracks and roads are home to me,” she said, meaning it.
“You’re sure of this?”
“Positive.” Never mind that it all sounded heavenly and inviting and far too dangerous a place to be secluded with him.
“Fine. We’ll go now.”
He ushered her out the door without ceremony toward his private elevator. Yet as the door swished open and she stepped inside, she felt his power throb and grow, felt the pulse of the man beating in her veins as well. Her heart pounded in rhythm and felt expectation ripple through her.