“It will be.”
“You’re that sure of yourself?”
His smile was brief but oh so cocky, just like the man. “I play to win, Caprice. In everything.”
She nodded, not needing to be reminded of that. “This isn’t a game to me either. It’s business. It’s what I’ve wanted to do for years and have put all my efforts into.”
“Your business is your life,” he said, his features hardening into a benign mask.
“I’ve put a lot of time into the lodge while my father was ill,” she said, hoping he understood. “The past year it demanded most of my attention because my program is a fledgling operation and I couldn’t afford a mistake.”
“If you hope to succeed, you need to learn how to delegate,” he said, advice she’d received before and ignored.
“Nobody knows my business like I do,” she shot back in defense.
He frowned. “Still the same need for control, Caprice?”
If only this wasn’t the first time she’d been accused of that, she thought, face burning. “I have to be picky when my reputation as a therapist is on the line.”
One dark brow lifted. “You need to learn how to play the game.”
That word again.
She had no doubts that he referred to business and pleasure, her heart kicking up its pace at the thought of the latter, which was totally unacceptable. Under no circumstances would she fall victim to his charm again.
So what if her business was her life? It was her choice, though she didn’t expect him to understand what she had gone through to get where she was at now.
“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. This isn’t a game to me, Luciano. This is my future. My dream. I couldn’t have gotten this far with the few resources I have available if I hadn’t focused on getting my program started,” she said, gaze fixed on his.
He huffed a breath, shaking his head. “I do understand.”
He couldn’t. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t looking for friendship with Luciano Duchelini. Wasn’t looking for pity. All she needed, wanted, from him was a fat check for setting up her program in Italy and renovating Tregore Lodge before she returned to Colorado.
She needed his business acumen and financial support. Her best chance to get both was to remain immune to his charismatic charm as she solidified this deal. She couldn’t let her judgment be clouded by emotions she had no intentions of pursuing.
“Where do you suggest I start delegating?” she asked, determined to move forward.
“Now. Let me be in charge of the renovations from start to finish,” he said.
She stiffened at the idea of handing over control to him. “You don’t want my input in my own lodge?”
“Your ideas are welcome,” he said, though the impatience creeping back into his voice belied it. “But there is no need for you to remain in Colorado to oversee the project.”
He was right. She couldn’t devote full attention to her ski program if she had to deal with the building issues at the lodge. “You must understand that there are certain structural specifics I need in place to make my program work—”