Bound by the Italian's Contract(70)
“Where I could run into Mario at any time?”
“I’ve barred him from coming to the lodge.”
“But you can’t keep him out of the village.” She stared at the intricate swirls of blue and red that outlined the exquisite black geometric designs in the Turkish carpet, waiting for him to deny it. But he couldn’t because it was true. “I can’t stay here.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
She signed, not wishing to delve into this discussion on the tail end of a marvelous night of celebration. “Won’t. This isn’t just about Mario. If I’m to make a success of my business, I need to complete my work here and return to Colorado.”
He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. Had blue eyes ever seemed so intense? This assertive? “The lodge isn’t finished yet. Where will you go?”
She pulled back from the touch that felt too comforting and the eyes that probed far too deeply. “I have friends in Colorado that I can stay with until the lodge renovations are completed.”
“You’re certain?” Luciano asked, jaw set tight.
“Yes. As soon as my work here is done, I’ll go home.”
* * *
The following week Caprice saw little of Luciano. It was unbelievable how the time had zipped past in a flurry of last-minute details she had to attend to on the therapy pod. The grand opening was a week away. The first therapy guests would arrive in a few days.
She would return home to stay with friends. Yes, staying here in Italy would be easier, but wasn’t that the problem? Everything she experienced here with Luciano wasn’t real.
It wasn’t love.
It wasn’t commitment.
What they had together here was amazing sex. Nothing more.
That wasn’t enough to keep her here. In fact it was the very reason she should go. Leaving here would break this addiction she had for Luciano and force her to take back control of her life and business.
She slid from the bed and slipped into a lovely satin robe that had appeared the day she’d arrived. More clothes had been delivered since then. All were his choice. All were far too elegant for her to wear when she returned to Colorado and the real world. But for now they suited the role she was playing.
She walked barefoot into the adjacent salon where the colazione had been deposited on the sideboard. After pouring a cup of caffè e latte and selecting a brioche, she curled up on the divan just as the bedroom door opened and Luciano strode into the room, his lean muscled body bare except for a thick, knotted towel that rode low on his lean hips.
A different hunger stirred inside her until her gaze lifted to his remote features. “Is something wrong?”
“We need to talk,” he said, pouring a rich coffee for himself before joining her on the divan with masculine grace.
“Sounds serious. Please tell me this has nothing to do with my lodge,” she said, hoping she hadn’t suffered any setbacks there.
He gave one abrupt shake of his head and stared at her with eyes that burned with fury. “My PA rang me yesterday. Mario scheduled a press conference in Milan tomorrow. According to sources he wants to set the record straight on why la Duchi has halted his company from further work at the lodge.”