﻿“Kiss me, Mariella.”

Their gazes held for a second. Luca was waiting for her, she realised. He understood she’d been hurt and he was letting her make the first move. It was unexpected. She was used to him bossing her around. Now he was giving her the power, and it made him even more difficult to resist.

She leaned into his hand, tilted up her face, and with her heart in her throat touched her lips to his. The connection between them was so strong it rocked her core.

For the first time since leaving her old life behind she threw caution to the wind, wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him closer.

The moment she did it, everything changed.

A busy wife and mother of three (two daughters and the family dog), Donna Alward believes hers is the best job in the world: a combination of stay-at-home mum and romance novelist. An avid reader since childhood, Donna always made up her own stories. She completed her Arts Degree in English Literature in 1994, but it wasn’t until 2001 that she penned her first full-length novel and found herself hooked on writing romance. In 2006 she sold her first manuscript, and now writes warm, emotional stories for Harlequin Mills & Boon’s Romance line.

In her new home office in Nova Scotia, Donna loves being back on the east coast of Canada after nearly twelve years in Alberta, where her career began, writing about cowboys and the west. Donna’s debut Romance, HIRED BY THE COWBOY, was awarded the Booksellers Best Award in 2008 for Best Traditional Romance.

With the Atlantic Ocean only minutes from her doorstep, Donna has found a fresh take on life and promises even more great romances in the near future!

Donna loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website at www.donnaalward.com, or visit her myspace page at www.myspace.com/dalward.

Recent titles by the same author:

THE RANCHER’S RUNAWAY PRINCESS

FALLING FOR MR DARK & DANGEROUS

THE SOLDIER’S HOMECOMING

MARRIAGE AT CIRCLE M

HIRED BY THE COWBOY*

*Winner of the 2008 Booksellers Best Award

Dear Reader

For nearly twelve years I lived in Alberta, Canada, with my husband and children. My mum would come to visit us annually, and her visit always included a trip to the Rocky Mountains and, more often than not, lunch at the fabulously decadent Banff Springs Hotel. I always thought there was something magical about it. It’s perched at the pinnacle of town, a great stone castle looking up at Cascade Mountain and down the Bow River Valley. At Christmas there’s a replica of it made of gingerbread on display inside. The food is excellent, the atmosphere even better. When I thought of putting a heroine somewhere to reclaim her life, the townsite of Banff simply fitted the bill.

Of course I needed a hotel, and a to-die-for handsome hero. I found him in Italian Luca Fiori. Luca is heir to the Fiori hotel empire, and is sent to Banff to oversee the newest company acquisition, the Fiori Cascade. The Cascade is a place for relaxation, and rejuvenation, for a bit of decadence and specialness. Luca says it is to ‘remember the romance’.

As I write this letter, I’ve just returned home from a wedding…my mum’s wedding, after many years on her own. I couldn’t be happier that she has ‘remembered the romance’, and that she and her new husband ‘found’ each other. It just goes to show that there is always, always, room for love.

I’d love to hear from you… You can e-mail me at donna@donnaalward.com, or write to me in care of my publisher.

With my very best wishes

Donna

HIRED: THE
ITALIAN’S BRIDE

BY

DONNA ALWARD

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Mum and Harold

CHAPTER ONE

“MS. ROSS? Mr. Fiori has arrived.

He was here.

“Thank you, Becky. Show him in.”

Mari ran a hand over her already smooth hair, trying hard not to resent a man she’d never met. Luca Fiori, golden son of the Fiori Resort empire. Rich, powerful, and according to her online research, a bit of a playboy.

Just what she—and the hotel—needed. Not.

She could just make out the sound of his voice, smooth and warm, coming from the reception area. The sound sent a flutter through her tummy. Becky would be bringing him back any moment. Perhaps she should go out to meet him. Yes, that would probably be the genial, professional thing to do. But her feet wouldn’t move. Instead she turned her head to both sides, assessing the office as if through a stranger’s eyes. Her new office, though she couldn’t help feeling a bit of an interloper. What Fiori needed to see was a woman confident in her new position. Even if she wasn’t, she had to give that appearance. She made sure everything was in its place. Not a speck of dust or scrap of paper. Everything had to be perfect. The only thing that revealed she’d even been there that morning was her mug, half-full of cold tea, a faint half-moon of lipstick marring the cream-colored ceramic.

Mari inhaled, then let it out slowly, trying to relax her shoulders. She carried all her tension there and right now they were sitting close to her ears, she was so nervous. She pushed them down and attempted a smile. She had to show him she was up to the job…the job she’d had for exactly two weeks and three days.

Seconds later Becky returned, extending a hand and showing Luca into the office.

All Mari’s practiced greetings flew out of her head.

“Mr. Fiori.”

The pictures didn’t do him justice, she realized, as her heart gave a definitive thud. He was taller than he seemed from the online pictures. He was wearing a suit, but with such a casual flair she wasn’t sure it actually could be called a suit at all. Black trousers and shoes and a white shirt, open at the collar, with a black jacket worn carelessly over top. The unbuttoned collar revealed a slice of tanned skin and she saw his hand tuck into his trouser pocket just before she lifted her eyes to his face.

She’d been caught assessing. His twinkling eyes told her so and the crooked, cocky smile confirmed it. Her cheeks flushed as her gaze skittered away.

“Ms. Ross, the acting manager, I presume?”

She wet her lips and pasted on a smile, trying hard to ignore the heat that blossomed anew in her face at the sound of his smooth, rich voice. She extended her hand. “Yes. Welcome to the Bow Valley Inn.”

“You mean the Fiori Cascade.”

Mari went cold. Of course. She’d received the memo about the name change and had simply forgotten it in her nervousness. She looked up at Luca’s mouth. He was smiling, at least, not angry with her for the slip.

She pulled her hand out of his, attempting to keep the polite turn of her lips in place. “Yes, of course. Old habits.” She gestured to a small seating area. “Come in and sit down. I’ll ask Becky for some refreshment.”

“Why don’t we go to the lounge, instead?” He raised one eyebrow at her. “I passed one as I came through the lobby. It’ll help give me a feel of the place. And the lounge will be much more intimate, don’t you think?”

Mari’s hand froze on the handset of the phone. This wasn’t what she’d planned. Her pulse drummed at the word “intimate.” She’d wanted coffee and the chef’s signature scones, followed by a brief presentation of what she considered the Inn’s finest points and some basic proposals for changes and upgrades. She’d spent hours getting it the way she wanted—flawless. And with an appropriate amount of distance between them.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Ross?”

She rubbed her lips together. “No, not at all.” Her voice came out thin and reedy and she cleared her throat, stretching her lips in a smile again. “Coffee in the Athabasca Room would be fine.” She’d simply have to remember what she’d put in her report and make her points as they went along.

“I look forward to hearing your ideas. Perhaps you’d take me on a tour later?” He stepped aside, letting her exit first. His voice was smooth, his smile charming. Mari exhaled again, trying to keep her shoulders down. She could do this. She wasn’t used to thinking on her feet, but she could do it. She’d just ignore what she knew about his reputation. Or the fact that he fairly exuded charm without even trying.

The lounge was nearly empty at ten in the morning. Two other couples sat at tables, sipping from large mugs and chatting quietly. Mari led him past the main bar to a smaller corner one, perching on one of the backed stools, making sure there were several inches between them. Luca took the seat next to her and the scent of his expensive cologne reached her nose. There was no mistaking the confident ease with which he carried himself. This was a man completely out of her league. Not that she was looking. She wasn’t even close to looking, not when the very thought of any physical contact with a man sent chills down her spine.

“This might be my favorite view in the whole hotel,” she began, focusing on her job, determined he see the Inn…the Cascade…at its best. The way she was turned, she could look out over the hotel front grounds and down over the valley, the turquoise-blue of the Bow River a shining snake through the gold and green hues of autumn. “And our coffee is superior. We import it from—”

“The scenery is spectacular.” He interrupted her and she realized that he wasn’t looking at the view at all, but at her. Nerves tumbled in her stomach and her voice trailed off, unsure of how to continue. He must think her provincial, not the standard of management Fiori employed. Certainly not up to bantering, like he seemed to expect.

Mari turned back to the bar and put her hand on the coffeepot that was set out. It didn’t matter. This was her job and she wanted to keep it. Wanted it more than anything else in the world.

“Coffee, Mr. Fiori?”

She looked up when he remained silent and their eyes met.

Her hand shook on the handle of the pot. He was watching her steadily, so unwavering that tightness cinched her chest. She willed it away, telling herself it was his power as her boss that had her so unsettled. It wasn’t his fault that he was so handsome. Wasn’t his fault that his eyes were the color of melted molasses toffee, only a slightly deeper shade than his hair. He wasn’t responsible for the perfectly shaped lips, either, or the way he spoke, with flawless inflection and just a hint of Italian accent. He was possibly more magnetic than he was in the pictures on the computer or in the industry magazines she kept filed on her bookshelf. She would imagine he got his way often simply from his looks and charm. But not here, not with her. There were important things at stake.

“Call me Luca, please,” he answered finally.

She forced herself to pour the coffee as the waitress returned with a basket of warm scones. “Luca, then.”

“You’re not going to tell me your first name.”

She raised an eyebrow, cautiously determined not to let him ride roughshod over her. “You own this hotel. Don’t you know it already?”

He laughed, the sound devoid of any pretence. A genuine laugh that nearly warmed her from the inside out. “Remind me, then.”

A smile crept up her lips; she couldn’t help it. She’d expected him to be practiced, but the truth was everything about him was natural. From the way he wore his clothes to his manners to his easy chuckle. There was nothing fake about Luca Fiori. His charm was innate and genuine.

And therein lay the danger, she realized. In her books, charm equaled trouble. She didn’t need trouble. In any form.

“Mari. My first name is Mari.”

“Oh, Mari, I believe you’ve short-changed me.”

She picked up a spoon and stirred sugar—a heaping teaspoon of it—into her coffee. “Shortchanged you? How?”

“Because I know your name is really Mariella.”

Her fingers gripped the spoon. She much preferred Mari now. She’d been Mari ever since moving to Banff three years ago. No more Mariella. Mariella had been scared and obedient and faceless. She hadn’t been a person at all.

“I go by Mari. Or you may continue calling me Ms. Ross.” She didn’t even attempt to keep the cool out of her voice.

Luca split a scone and buttered it. “Mariella is a lovely Italian name. It means beloved.”

“I know what it means.”

Undaunted, he continued. “It was also my grandmother’s name.”

Mari swallowed a mouthful of coffee too fast and it burned all the way down her throat. His grandmother’s name wasn’t what was important right now; it didn’t even register on her radar. She was Mari, manager of a four-star resort and she’d had to leave a lot of pain behind to get here. Mariella reminded her of things she kept trying to forget. How many times had her mother told her about her father’s so-called family? The family she’d never known?

A family she never would know. Not now. It was just one of the missing gaps in her childhood.

“Mr. Fiori…” At his raised eyebrow she reluctantly amended, “Luca, I don’t mean to sound impolite, but you are here as a representative of Fiori Resorts, here to evaluate your latest acquisition. My first name should be of little importance. Perhaps we should begin the tour now.”

Luca took another bite of scone and considered how to answer. The general manager was a prickly sort, but pretty. And he did enjoy a challenge. “And miss out on this superior blend? I think not. We’ll get to the rest. In time.”

He sipped his coffee thoughtfully, letting his eyes roam over her. Her dark hair was pulled back into a simple, elegant twist, not a hair out of place. She had great legs, but she hid them beneath a conservative navy skirt and completed the look with an equally plain jacket. She gave new meaning to the words “power suit.” Even her shoes…dio mio. His sister would have had a fit at the sight. Her shoes were plain, unadorned navy pumps. Hardly inspired. All in all she was a package that screamed “stay away.”

Until she finally looked into his eyes, and then he knew.

Hers were stunning, nothing at all like the cold, efficient package she presented. They were gray-blue and smoky, soft and sexy, holding a lifetime of secrets.

“Mariella…” He let his voice soften and was gratified to see her turn those eyes on him again. This was more than a challenge. This was unvarnished curiosity, something unusual for him. He was generally happy to skim the surface. On his arm was just about close enough for any woman to get. But there was something in Mari’s eyes that drew him in. A mystery begging to be solved.

“Mari,” she corrected coolly.

He frowned. Usually that soft tone worked on women. There was more to her than frosty order and sensible shoes, he could sense it. But as her eyes blazed at him, refusing to let him use her full name, he knew that this was one time his charm was going to fail him. With it came the unholy urge to laugh, along with grudging respect.

Who would have thought a trip to Canada would turn out to be so intriguing?

He had the most incredible desire to reach out and rest his fingers on her belligerent cheek. Even sitting on the stool, she was several inches below his face. So petite and feminine, even when she was standing her ground. What would she do if he tried such a thing? Blush? He didn’t think so. Some of the women he knew would slap his face in a bout of indignant passion, but he didn’t think Mari was the type for that, either.

No, an icy diatribe was more her style and he almost did it just to see what would happen. To see the sparks ignite, and flare.

Something held him back.

That wasn’t why he was here. He was away from Italy, away from the constant demands and in a place where he alone could call the shots. He’d let himself be distracted before and it hadn’t been pretty. It had cost him. Not quite so much as it had cost his father when his mother had walked out on them, but it had been adequately messy. He’d let Ellie make a fool of him. He’d risked his heart and had lost. No, his initial instinct was right. He would enjoy himself, but not take it any further than that.

He was here to make the Bow Valley Inn into the Fiori Cascade and in order to do that he had to work with Mariella Ross.

He stepped back. “Show me the rest, Mariella. And we’ll see about taking the Fiori Cascade to a whole new level of opulence.”

Luca stared at the papers once more, leaning back against the plush sofa and crossing his ankles on the coffee table. There was nothing really wrong with the hotel, not really. It was a nice establishment, comfortable, good service.

But good wasn’t Fiori. His father had taught him that.

The new manager was something else, too. Mariella. Right now it appeared the only thing she shared with his grandmother was her name. She’d let down her guard for a few moments, but she was a woman bound up in rules and boundaries, that much was crystal clear. All through the tour she’d mentioned how profitable or efficient their amenities were. Which was all well and good—he wanted to make a profit. But it wasn’t the be all and end all. There was more to the Fiori brand than a balance sheet. It was what set Fiori apart from the rest.

He put the papers down and wandered over to his balcony. He slid open the door, crossing his arms against the chill of mountain fall air. Listening, he caught the whispered rustle of the wind through the gold-coin leaves of the trees below. He hadn’t missed the way she kept putting distance between them, either. After that preliminary handshake, it had been like there was an invisible shield around her. The woman was a big contradiction. A sexy woman wrapped up in bubble-wrap. He wondered why.

And he really had to stop thinking about her.

He leaned against the railing, looking out over the white-capped range before him. He liked the gray stone exterior of the hotel, the way it mimicked the slate color of the peaks surrounding them. It reminded him of a small castle, a retreat tucked into the side of a mountain. A fortress.

A knock at the door shook him from his musings and he went back inside to answer it.

Mari had to struggle to keep her mouth from falling open when he opened the door. She completely forgot about the file in her hand or her reason for going to the suite as soon as she saw him. Gone was the suit of earlier. Instead he wore jeans, old ones. The hem was slightly frayed, the thighs faded. And he’d changed into a sweater, a ribbed tan pullover that accentuated his lean build and complemented his dark coloring. He looked completely approachable. Delicious.

This was ridiculous. She was staring at a virtual stranger like he was a piece of the chef’s sachertorte. Good looks were just that. Good looks. They said nothing about the man, nothing at all. A man could hide behind his good looks. An all too familiar ache spread through her chest.

“Mari. Come in.”

He’d acquiesced and used the shortened version of her name. She should have been grateful, but the way he said it, the way the simple syllables rolled off his tongue, sent flutters over her skin.

He reached out and took her hand and the skitters fled, replaced by an automatic reaction. She pulled her hand back, couching it along her side, and took a step away from him.

His brows furrowed in the middle. Of course he wouldn’t understand.

Handshakes were a matter of business etiquette and she tolerated it, but that was the extent of the personal contact she could tolerate. Taking her hand probably meant nothing to him. But to her it meant taking a huge personal liberty. She couldn’t help her reaction any more than she could change the past. She couldn’t stop the fear, even when it was irrational as it was now. It didn’t matter how much time went by, it was impossible to stop the instinctive reactions. He’d done nothing to make her believe he’d hurt her, but it didn’t matter. The trigger was the same.

“I brought you the financial statements.” She covered the uncomfortable moment by holding out the manila folder.

“You’re serious?”

It was her turn to be confused, and she gratefully switched her focus to business. “Of course I am. I thought you’d need them.”

“Are we in the black?”

“Of course we are!” When he didn’t take the file, she lowered her arm again, hiding behind it.

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

“It is?”

“Please, sit down. Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

She perched on the edge of an armchair like a bird waiting to take flight, while he walked over to the small bar. She noticed he was in his bare feet and for a moment her gaze was drawn to the frayed hem of his jeans, the way it rested against the skin of his heel.

She couldn’t let his good looks distract her. She’d bet anything he was aware of his appearance and used it to his advantage all the time. But it wouldn’t work with her. She wasn’t so naive as that.

He wasn’t interested in the numbers? Worry plunged through her stomach. What was he going to do to the hotel? Run it into the ground? Every decision she’d made in the last two and a half years had been carefully thought out, balanced against the pros and cons. What to do, where to live, what to wear and say… And he was treating this whole thing like it was no big deal. More and more he was bearing out her initial judgment. That for him this whole thing was a rich boy’s game. But it was her livelihood. It was all she had. She’d built it from nothing. And he’d been given everything—life on a silver platter.

“What are your plans for the Cascade?” She spoke to his back as he poured a glass of red wine, filling a second glass despite her decline.

He returned and handed her the glass, then perched on the arm of the sofa. “I have many plans. I think revamping the hotel is going to be fun.”

Fun? Her heart sank further. Great. He was charming, handsome. There was no denying it. In fact he was the first man she’d responded to physically ever since leaving Toronto. Her eyes narrowed. Acknowledging his good looks meant nothing except that she still had eyes to see with. Taking her livelihood in his hands for fun didn’t sit well.

“Don’t you think those sorts of decisions should be examined, weighed?”

“What’s the fun in that?” His lips tipped up as he sipped his wine. “Aren’t you going to have any? I brought it with me. It’s Nico—the vineyards of my best friend, Dante Nicoletti. You’ll like it—it’s a fine Montepulciano. And it’s a staple on all Fiori lists.”

She dutifully sipped and looked down as the rich flavor surrounded her tongue. Oh, it was nice. Very nice. But that was hardly the point.

“I take my job seriously, Mr. Fiori. Not something to enjoy on a whim.”

“Sometimes whims are the very best things.” He smiled disarmingly and she found she actually had to work at not being charmed. Damn him!

She sipped again, sliding further back in the chair and crossing her legs. “I like what I do.” Would she have called it fun? Probably not. But it gave her a sense of accomplishment. Working in a hotel in the majesty of the Rockies suited her wallflower qualities to a tee. She could glimpse the fairy tale while still being able to watch from the sidelines. She felt protected, and yet had room to breathe. But fun?

She wasn’t sure she knew what fun was.

“But that’s not the same thing. Tell me, Mari, what drives you? What makes you get up in the morning?”

The fact that I can.

She pushed the automatic answer away. She didn’t have to justify her choices to him. He didn’t need to know how she’d had a narrow escape, how it could have turned out so very differently years earlier.

“This isn’t about me, it’s about what’s going to happen to this hotel. Paul Verbeek resigned when you bought the hotel. How much more is going to change? Staff is already upset at the possibility of change and insecurity. If I start handing out pink slips, morale’s going to take a serious dip.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.”

She bristled. He waltzed in here and after what, four hours? decided she was wrong about just about everything. She knew how to do her job and she did it well, despite being new at it. This was going to be another case of owners sending in an emissary, turning everything upside down, then leaving the mess for local management to clean up. She sighed. Everything had been going fine. Why did this have to happen now?

“I don’t know what to say. We obviously have differing opinions yet I have no wish to cause any discord. You’re the boss.” She folded her hands. One of them had to keep a logical head.

“Describe the Cascade in three words.”

She squeezed her left fingers in her right hand. “Are you serious?”

“Perfectly. What are the first three words you think of when you think of this hotel?”

“Efficient. Class. Profitable.” She shot the words out confidently. She prided herself—and the hotel—on them. It was the image she tried to portray every day.

He stopped pacing and sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

“What’s wrong with that? We have an efficient staff, an elegant establishment and we make a profit. You should be happy with all those things.”

“Come here.” He went to the balcony door again and slid it open. She followed, bringing the wine with her and cradling her glass in her hands. What on earth was he doing now?

“Look out over there.”

The afternoon was waning and the sun’s rays filtered through trees and shadows. Goose bumps rose on her skin at the chill in the air and she shivered.

“Just a minute,” he murmured, disappearing back inside.

When he returned he draped a soft blanket over her shoulders and took the glass out of her hands. She tensed at his casual touch.

“Now look. And tell me, what do you see?”

“The valley, poplar trees, the river.”

“No, Mari.”

His body was close, too close and she fought against the panic rising instinctively in her chest. Please don’t touch me, she prayed, torn between fear and an unfamiliar longing that he’d disobey her silent wishes. What would it feel like to have him cradle her body between his arms? Torture, or heaven? The way her heart was pounding, she recognized the sensation for what it was—fear.

As if he sensed her tension, he stepped to the side and gripped the iron railing. He breathed deeply, closed his eyes. When he opened them again he gazed over the vista before them.

“Freedom. Right now, what I’m feeling is freedom.” His smile was wide and relaxed. “Look at this place. Look at where we are. There’s no place in the world like this place. The Cascade can be a jewel in a beautiful kingdom. Wild and free on the outside. And inside…a place to rest, rejuvenate, to fall in love. Can’t you feel it seducing you, Mari?”

Tears pricked her eyes but she blinked them away, gripping the edges of the blanket closely around her in a protective embrace.

Freedom. Rest. Rejuvenation. All the things she had spent years searching for, and exactly how she felt about her new life in this tiny resort town.

And with his good intentions, Luca Fiori was about to ruin it all.

CHAPTER TWO

“I DON’T understand.”

Mari stepped back from the railing, away from the whispering trees and Luca’s warm voice. He was talking castles and falling in love? She’d stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago. “How exactly do you intend on accomplishing this?”

Before he could answer she scuttled back inside, removed the blanket from her shoulders and kept her hands busy by folding it. Having it around her shoulders had felt too much like an embrace and that didn’t sit well. It was becoming increasingly clear that she and Luca were two very different people. She was firmly grounded in reality. Full stop.

He followed her, watching her from the glass door until she put the blanket down and then he stepped forward, giving her back the wine.

“I’m just working on impressions, for now.”

“I prefer to work with facts, and so far all I’ve heard from you are nebulous statements of…of grandeur,” she finished, faltering a little. Her heart pounded in her ears as she fought back the feeling that she was crossing an invisible line.

It was beginning to feel like an argument and she forced herself to relax, taking slow breaths and picturing the stress leaving through the soles of her feet. She hated conflict. With a passion. She’d learned to stick up for herself over the last few years but it didn’t mean it came easily to her. If it weren’t for the rest of the employees looking to her for leadership, she’d be tempted to back away and let him have a go at it rather than argue.

But she was the manager and if she wanted to keep that job, she needed to fight the battles that needed to be fought. People were depending on her. People who had been there for her since she’d made this her home, whether they knew it or not. She steeled her spine and made herself look up again.

“That’s the problem with the Cascade,” Luca explained. He poured a little more wine in his glass, took a sip and smiled a little. “Everything’s been compartmentalized. One room says cool elegance and another is modern and another is rustic comfort…all admirable designs and styles, but without unity.”

Unity?

His hand spread wide. “We need to decide what the Cascade is. What it means…what we want to achieve…and then work around that. If we work on one area at a time, it means less disturbance to everyone. The goal is to make everything exemplify Fiori Cascade.”

Mari’s eyes widened. “That will cost a fortune.”

“Fiori has deep pockets.”

“Of course…I’m just…weighing the cost versus the benefit. The Bow Val…I mean the Cascade is already doing well. Look at the numbers—we have excellent capacity even for this time of year.”

“That’s not remotely the point.”

And there was where they differed. She realized that they did not see anything the same way. Maybe it was having money and security that made the difference. Luca didn’t have to worry where his next meal was coming from, or where he’d sleep, or what the future held because his was there waiting for him. It always had been. But her life wasn’t that way. It was planning and dollars and cents and making the most out of less, rocking the boat as little as possible. It was staying in the background, out of notice, causing little trouble. And there was nothing wrong with that. It had gotten her where she was. She worked quietly but effectively and she’d been rewarded for it through steady promotion.

“If you implement all these great ideas, when can we expect the memo from head office telling us to downsize our staff?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Will you guarantee that in writing? Because I’ve seen it happen, the expenditures are too great to sustain staffing and layoffs occur. Are you planning on closing us down during renovations? What are these people to do then? They count on their pay to put food on the table. Have you considered that?”

A smile flickered on Luca’s face and Mari steeled herself against the onslaught of charm she knew was coming. This was important. As much as she wanted to back away and say, “Yes sir, whatever you want sir,” she wouldn’t.

“Of course I’m not shutting the hotel down, don’t be ridiculous. And if any employees aren’t required during refurbishing, they’ll get paid vacation. Will that suit you?”

“I want it in writing,” Mari reiterated, and put down her wineglass. He was the boss, and she was treading perilously close to insubordination. She thought back to the timid girl who had started working here only a few years ago. It was the people in this very hotel that had helped her. She wouldn’t let them down now.

“You are a sharp one.” His voice held a touch of irritation and she felt the warm thread of slight victory infuse her. She’d gotten to him, then. His implacable charm was faltering and it emboldened her.

“I’m no one’s yes-man.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” His gaze appraised her and she felt a flush climb her cheeks. It felt as though the air in her chest expanded. No, no, no. She had to keep focused on work!

“Perhaps tomorrow we might schedule a meeting to go over the preliminary details.”

“I have a better idea.”

Mari met his eyes yet again, and for a moment the air seemed to hum between them. The annoyance of moments ago was dispelled as he slid one hand into his jeans pocket. His eyes were warm, crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

She took two steps back as sure footing flew out the window. Alarm bells started ringing in her head. “Absolutely not.”

“Here, in the hotel. It’ll be a business supper. What is it you say…scout’s honor? Strictly work.” He lifted a finger to his forehead.

“It’s two fingers, and dinner is hardly a business meeting.”

Luca stepped forward, putting his glass down on a side table with a small click that echoed in the silence.

He was too close again. Part of her held the thread of panic and the other part was drawn to him, plain and simple, which meant that nothing was simple at all. It was much easier when they were disagreeing. Easier to keep him at a distance. She wasn’t equipped to deal with his charm. He didn’t even seem to know he possessed it.

“Bring your day planner if that makes you happy.” Happy? Huh. He was flirting, and she didn’t flirt. Ever!

“I think my office tomorrow would be much better.”

“Yes, but you see I need to get a complete picture, and that includes the quality of the dining experience. And eating alone does not constitute a fine dining experience, in my opinion.”

Oh, he was good. Smooth and persuasive and actually logical! She couldn’t find a good argument. How could she tell him why she didn’t go out to dinner with anyone? How she went home each night and made a meal for one and ate it with Tommy, her dog? Flimsy at best. And the real reason was none of his business. Not his, not anyone’s. No one here knew how she’d run away. How she still looked over her shoulder.

“A working dinner.”

“Of course.”

There was no polite way out of it. He was here, all the way from Italy, he was her boss and he was calling the shots. Like it or not. She’d pushed him as far as she’d dared just now and her victory was thin. If they were to work together for the next several weeks, months even…her heart quivered at the thought… then somehow they needed to reach an amicable status quo. She swallowed. He had to know she was not afraid. He had to know she put the hotel and its employees first.

“One dinner, that’s all. And we discuss work.”

“Naturally.”

Mari took a few sidesteps, thankful the door was within reach. “I’ll meet you in the Panorama Room at six.”

“Perfect.”

When he walked toward her she pulled open the door, a little too quickly to be poised. His hand gripped the door frame above her shoulder and she felt the heat from his body. Too close. She wasn’t sure if the tripping of her pulse was fear or exhilaration. She slid out the opening as fast as she possibly could, clinging to whatever grace she could muster.

“I’ll see you then,” Luca said softly.

She fled for the elevator without looking back.

It was 5:57 when Mari stopped before the entrance of the dining room and smoothed her dress.

She paused in the door, scanning the room, but he wasn’t there. Relief warred with annoyance. She didn’t have to worry about making an entrance this way, but at least he could be on time. She wanted to get this over with. It was irritating to have her initial impressions of him confirmed so accurately. Luca was unfocused, cavalier about the whole thing. He was every bit the playboy she’d read about. Sexy and smooth. Working together was going to drive her crazy.

She was shown to the best table in the room. She took her seat with surprise, looked outside at the mountains and trees being thrown into shadow by twilight. She hadn’t asked for this particular table; it was one usually reserved for guests requesting something “special.” It would be very wrong of them to monopolize the table when there was likely a paying guest waiting for it.

She sipped her drink and waited. By ten past six her toes had joined her nails, tapping with impatience. Only to stop abruptly when he stepped in the room.

God, he was beautiful. She could admit it when he was a room away from her and they weren’t embroiled in business. He was safe there. Safe and devastatingly sexy in black trousers and a white shirt. She shook her head, sighing. It was one of those tailored shirts that was meant to be untucked, emphasizing his narrow waist and moving up to broad shoulders. One hand slid casually into his pocket in a gesture she somehow already knew intimately. He said something to the hostess at the front, and the two of them laughed.

Luca Fiori was every woman’s dream. Everyone’s but hers. Dreams like that simply didn’t last. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the package. It was a lovely package. And for a very quick moment, she wished. Wishing wasn’t a luxury she afforded herself. But looking at Luca, with his bronzed skin and easy smile, she wished she knew how to be that free. To be able to accept, and to give.

He approached the table with an easy stride. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got caught up in e-mails my father sent and lost track of time.”

She pursed her lips, determined not to let him off easily, but he leaned over and pressed an informal kiss of greeting to her cheek.

She froze.

Seemingly unaware of her reaction, Luca took the chair across from her. “You look beautiful. Have you ordered?”

Beautiful? Her? She’d gone home to change and feed Tommy and then he’d drooled over the front of her outfit, causing a wardrobe change. Gone was the tailored charcoal trouser suit she’d picked and in its place was her generic little black dress—simply cut, black velvet with long fitted sleeves and with a hem ending just above the knee.

It wasn’t as businesslike as she’d have preferred, but it worked and while classy there wasn’t much sexy about it. It seemed compliments rolled off his tongue as easily as assurances.

“Thank you, and no, I was enjoying a drink and the music.” Mari struggled to make her voice sound less strangled than she felt.

A recent jazz CD played over the speakers. She hadn’t paid it a whit of attention but needed to cover. It was becoming clear that Luca was a toucher. He was comfortable with easy, physical gestures like polite kisses and hand clasps. It should help, knowing they were impersonal, but Mari knew she could never be that tactile with people. It was simply too difficult. Yet to explain was unthinkable. She’d just have to muddle through.

“I ordered us some wine on the way in. I’m looking forward to tasting something more local.”

Brenda came back with a bottle and moved to uncork it, but Luca took it from her hands. “Thank you, Brenda, but I can do this.”

Mari looked at him, tilting her head as he applied the corkscrew to the bottle. He was new, and likely jet-lagged, but he’d remembered Brenda’s name. She couldn’t help but be impressed. It showed an attention to detail that surprised her, and people didn’t often surprise her.

He pulled out the cork with a minimum of fuss and put the bottle down briefly. “You haven’t said anything.”

“I’m waiting to get to the business portion of the meal.”

She set her lips and looked him dead in the eye. A deal was a deal. As long as he kept it about the Cascade they’d have no problems.

He chuckled as he poured wine into two glasses. “Single-minded. I like that. It means you’re focused, driven.”

“A compliment.”

“Perhaps. I’m reserving judgment. Waiting to see if you’re also rigid, stubborn and always need to be right.”

Mari grabbed her tonic water as her face flamed. Of all the nerve!

“I don’t apologize for being organized or efficient.”

“Nor should you. They’re admirable qualities.”

Mari looked out the window and away from him. She’d never met a man like him. She couldn’t quite pin him down and that threw her off balance. Normally she could typecast a person within moments of meeting. She put them in a file in her mind and dealt with them accordingly.

But not Luca. There was something different about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. He was very urban with his carefully messed hair, the way he left his collar open so that Mari was treated to a tempting glimpse of the tanned hollow of his throat. As he lifted his glass she spied a ring on his right hand…plain, not ostentatious at all. It almost looked antique. In the centre of the flat gold oval was the imprint of a lily. The same imprint that she recognized from the company logo. It was the only jewelry he wore. His entire demeanor suggested playboy, but there was something more.

“Let’s order,” he suggested, his voice drawing her eyes away from the ring. “We’ll talk about the food and brainstorm about what the Cascade will become.”

He flipped open his menu, skimmed it and shut it again.

“Just like that?”

“Absolutely.”

Mari looked down at her own menu, though she could recite it without seeing the words. Everything about him threw her off her stride. Just when she credited him with not making decisions, he surprised her by being annoyingly definitive.

“We should switch tables. There’s usually a wait for this one and our guests do come first.”

Luca regarded her over his glass. “No need. I took care of it.”

“And how, may I ask, did you do that?”

His smile was disarming. She noticed again the sensual curve of his lips and wondered what cruel joke the universe was playing, sending such a man for her to deal with. She was completely out of her depth and drowning fast.

“I called the room, spoke to a lovely gentleman who is here celebrating his twentieth anniversary with his wife. I explained who I was and said that the hotel would be happy to treat him—and his wife—to a five-course meal in their room, along with a bottle of champagne.”

Mari’s lips dropped open before she could help it. Mentally she added up the cost of such a thing. It was selfish. Indulgent. All so he could have the best table.

“It would have been easier, and cheaper, for us to simply eat at a different table.”

Luca ran a finger down the leather spine of the menu, a smile playing on his lips. “Perhaps. But they get an anniversary to remember and I get to enjoy the sight of you at the best table in the house. It is…how do you put it? A no-brainer.”

She ignored the compliment. “It’s self-indulgent.”

“Of course. Shouldn’t the Cascade be about indulgence?”

She lowered her voice to a whisper that hissed across the table. “You’re going to indulge us right out of business!”

A waiter came to take their order. Without missing a beat, Luca ordered the Harvest Squash Soup and Pancetta Salmon, while she scanned the menu once more. In the heat of the discussion, she’d forgotten what she wanted, and the gap of silence was awkward.

“The pasta, Ms. Ross?” the waiter suggested. She closed the leather cover and nodded. When the menus were taken away, Luca leaned forward, close enough she could smell the light, masculine scent of his cologne. Exclusive, expensive and somehow perfectly Luca. Her pupils widened as he took the finger that had caressed the menu and ran it lightly over her wrist. The action surprised her so much she couldn’t even think to pull away.

“Mr. and Mrs. Townsend will have an incomparable anniversary night. Mr. Townsend is a prominent attorney, did you know that? His wife is involved in several charities. What do you think they’ll say to their friends when they return home? That the room was lovely? That the mountains were splendid? That could be said of nearly every hotel in this area.” He withdrew his finger from the delicate skin of her wrist and looked in her eyes. “They will remark at how special they felt. The delightful meal served in their room by attentive staff. The complimentary champagne and the single red rose presented to Mrs. Townsend.”

He sat back, satisfied. “Don’t underestimate the power of a happy customer, Mari. We’ll more than earn back what dinner cost. The Townsends will come back. And they’ll likely bring a trail of friends and associates with them. They’ll remember the romance.”

His eyebrows lifted as it dawned. “That’s it. That’s what the Cascade needs to become. Get out your day planner, Mari.”

He changed tack so often she was having difficulty following. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“The Fiori Cascade. Remember the Romance.” He clapped his hands together then reached for his wine. “This room—the Panorama. It’s romantic, don’t you think?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Look at the color, the furnishings. Timeless, nostalgic, reminiscent of a golden age. Gleaming wood, rich scarlet and gold. A place where women feel beautiful and wooed. A place to slow down, be indulged, pampered. Chandeliers and fine wine and…”

He paused.

“You’re not saying anything.”

“I can’t get a word in edgewise.” Mari left her planner right where it was. By tomorrow his ideas could have changed a half dozen times, for all she knew.

“You don’t like it? You don’t agree?”

“I think you’re getting carried away with an idea.”

“Oh, but, Mari ideas are the best part.” He reached out and clasped her hand. “There is nothing more exciting than looking and seeing all the possibilities.”

She pulled her hand away, cradling it in her lap. Luca carried on as if he hadn’t noticed her abrupt withdrawal. “Taking a vision and making it reality is the best part of my job.”

Their first course was served. Mari watched as Luca tried the soup, closed his eyes and murmured, “Mmm.”

She stared at the full curve of his lips, shocked to feel the stirrings of attraction in the midst of such animosity. Instantly those stirrings were followed by numbing fear. It wouldn’t matter. She wasn’t capable of relationships. She was done with trusting and taking risks. That she’d suddenly gone from physical appreciation to attraction startled her sufficiently to keep her on task. She stabbed at her greens like she was wielding a pitchfork.

He looked around and Mari tried to see what he was seeing. People enjoying fine food in an elegant setting. It’s what they paid for, what they expected. How would the rest of the hotel look, if it followed in the tradition of this room?

“What are you thinking?” He put down his spoon and she felt his eyes on her.

“Just wondering.” The trouble was, she could see it. Could see how stunning, marvelous it would be. Like stepping back in time.

“Trust me, Mari.”

She dropped her eyes and focused on spearing a large chunk of walnut from her salad. “I can’t.”

“Don’t you feel the beauty here? This room… this is what the Cascade should embody. It’s warm, it’s cozy, yet it’s rich and opulent at the same time. From the outside it’s a castle. On the inside…it needs to be an embrace. When guests are here they need to be soaked in beauty.”

“Please.” That one word was ripe with disdain. She could not be wooed by pretty words, and he’d been doling out more than his share. Pretty words did not keep a four-star hotel profitable. Pretty words did not…would not keep her in line.

“You’re worried about the money. And details.”

“Bingo.”

Luca picked up his spoon again, ate some soup. “I’ll tell you what, Mari. I’ll start making some notes. I’ll even put some preliminary figures together…just for you.”

“You’re too kind.” She didn’t attempt to disguise the sarcasm. It was becoming increasingly clear that Luca was full of grand schemes and she was going to have her hands full keeping him out of the clouds and on the ground.

“Mari?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Why are you so determined to dislike me?”

She looked away from the steady gaze. There was nothing condemning in it, just a curiosity that burned through her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to like him or dislike him. It was more a matter of self-preservation. She didn’t like change, didn’t work well with change. And it was everything Luca represented. She’d worked so hard to get where she was, to feel comfortable and established and…safe. And he waltzed in, in his expensive clothes and sexy smile and wanted to change everything. And with a method that made no sense to her. All of a sudden safe wasn’t a sure thing.

“It’s not about liking or disliking, Luca. It’s about the changes. You’re changing more than the name. You’re changing things that some of us have worked very hard to maintain. I’ve put a lot of time and energy into this hotel and perhaps I feel like that’s being swept away without a moment’s consideration. Meanwhile all of us here will remain long after you’re gone. When you’re done, you can wash your hands of it. We’re left to deal with what comes after.” He’d blow through like a whirlwind, and what destruction would be left in his wake?

Luca leaned forward, linking his hands on the white cloth on the table. “I understand that, really I do. But this is where you have to trust me. This is what I do, Mari. This is what my family has done for decades. I know my job and I’m good at it. If I weren’t, Fiori wouldn’t be nearly as successful as it is. I’m not going to throw you…or the staff…out along with the old carpet. I promise.”

And oh, she wanted to believe him. Desperately. But trust was a very rare commodity.

“You also need to consider how this will affect us financially. The reality of it. It cannot be ignored.” I can’t be ignored, she thought, but swallowed it away. This wasn’t about her, not really.

“Reality is overrated. What we’re selling is an experience, an escape, a fantasy.”

He leaned over so that the enticing scent of his cologne tickled her nose once more. His toffee-eyes captured hers. “When was the last time you indulged in a fantasy, Mari?”

CHAPTER THREE

MARI stopped, smoothed her skirt first and then her hair, before knocking on the door that used to be to her office before she became general manager.

“Come in.”

It was odd, finding her new boss sitting in her old chair, but she pushed the feeling aside. He needed a working area and she was now in the general manager’s office. It didn’t make sense to feel he was taking over her space. She was the one with the big office now.

She’d had to push a lot of feelings aside this morning, like the lingering fear that flickered in her belly when she remembered her dream of last night. There was no sense worrying about the fact that the dream was back. She would just chalk it up to the chocolate she’d indulged in last night at dessert. That, paired to the chaos that was rapidly becoming her life, explained it away. Even if she couldn’t quite shake the darkness of it from her system. Considering the letter she’d received two days ago, it wasn’t surprising. She hated the thought of Robert being up for parole. Hated the way the mere mention of his name paralyzed her. Focusing on work was the only thing keeping her sane. And Luca wasn’t making it any easier. He’d featured in her dream as well. But she had to shake it and be objective.

This was about today, about figuring out what it was Luca planned to do and exerting some of her own caution over the procedure. He would do whatever he wanted. She’d realized that after their dinner last night. But she was no pushover. Not anymore. She would keep things logical, reasonable. Within boundaries. In all ways.

“Mari! Good morning.” He gave a click of the mouse before pushing back his chair. “I was just sending an e-mail to my sister in Florence. Sharing my ideas and getting her input. She’s got a fantastic eye.”

“Then why didn’t she come?” The question was out before Mari could think and her cheeks bloomed at her rudeness.

“Because she has a three-year-old and a baby to look after. I’m hoping she’ll make it out next summer, when the refurbishing is complete and the landscaping done. As it is, she’s nagging me to be back home for Christmas.”

“You think we’ll be done that soon?”

“Shoulder season is the best time to renovate. I can always come back after the holiday and finish things off.”

Mari stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. Her blazer pocket contained half a dozen messages she should answer and she knew there were matters that needed her attention on her desk. So why didn’t she get to it?

“Did you need something in particular?” Luca posed the question, raising his eyebrows and Mari felt even more awkward.

“No, not really. I’ll just, um, go to my office, and if you need me for anything you can find me there.”

“I’m waiting for a call from a designer. He did some work for us when we bought the Colorado Springs property and with the similarity in settings, I thought bringing him up here would be a good idea. I know what I want, but I’m at a loss when it comes to deciding fabrics and tapestries and… well, it’s Dean’s job to take my vision and put it all together.”

Her mouth went dry. Nine o’clock in the morning and he was already moving forward without even discussing things with her. Was this all going to happen without her, then? “And what’s my job in all this?”

For a moment she was afraid he was going to get up and her fingers felt for the handle of the door. Briefly she remembered the touch of his finger on her wrist last night. But he merely crossed an ankle over his knee and smiled up at her. “Your job is to keep the hotel running as seamlessly as possible for our guests and staff. I can already see you’re good at it. And your job is also to help me. I do want your input, Mari.”

When the phone on his desk rang, his attention slid away from her completely, and she felt like a child dismissed from the principal’s office. Damn, she’d come in here hoping to get some insight into his plans, figure out a way to retain at least some control over the whole business. And she was leaving with nothing.

Mari made her way to the manager’s office in a daze. It was clear she wasn’t needed when it came to whatever changes were impending. As far as Luca was concerned, she was there to keep people happy.

She shut her office door firmly and threw her purse on her chair. She hadn’t worked this hard to build up her life to have someone dismiss it like it didn’t matter. Her years of being a doormat were over. She thought of the court proceedings happening this very moment and lifted her chin. She smoothed her hands over her cheeks, trying to soothe away the nagging feeling of inadequacy. She wouldn’t let him do this to her. This was her life now, and she would hold on to it with both hands.

He was bringing in a designer, of course he was. That was logical. But it was all happening so quickly. She wanted everything back the way it was.

Luca would consult with this designer and she’d be out of the decision-making process. She couldn’t let that happen. If she did he’d start making unilateral decisions that affected everyone. He’d have all the control and the thought terrified her.

But how could she hold her ground, when the very thought of asserting herself into the situation made her stomach tremble and her knees watery?

She had to come up with something that showed her value. When the idea hit she was shocked she hadn’t thought of it before. The hotel had an attic. And with every renovation, she knew certain things had been placed there for storage. She was sure there was a trove of antiques from the original design up there. She remembered what he’d said last night about returning to a “golden age.” Rich fabrics and natural wood. If she remembered correctly, there was an old chandelier, and who knew what other treasures she’d find?

She jumped up from her chair, ignoring the open file on her desk and grabbing instead a ring of keys from the back of her desk drawer. She was just turning into the hall when she ran smack-dab into the solid wall of his chest.

“Allentare!” He gripped her arms to steady her and she stiffened beneath his fingers. “Mari, slow down! Are you all right?”

“Let me go. I’m fine.” She shook off his hands and straightened her shoulders.

The woman was as prickly as a cactus. Luca stood back, nonplussed. She’d nearly knocked him over and now stood glaring at him like it was his fault that she’d come storming out of her office, not looking where she was going.

“I am glad to hear it.”

Her face softened just a bit. “I beg your pardon, it was my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter. I was just coming to see you.”

He watched as she slowly relaxed. First a deep breath, then her shoulders lowered and the taut lines of her face disappeared. She was wound as tight as a top. She had been last night, too. Her cheek had been cold when he’d kissed it in greeting and the tiny touch on her wrist seemed to turn her to stone. The woman needed to deflate before she imploded.

She placed a polite smile on her lips, one he knew was put there for show and not genuine. It was a cover. But what was she covering? He’d never met a woman so uptight and rigid. He had a feeling if he said black, she’d say white just to be contrary. In that way, he thought ruefully, she wasn’t that different from his father. He held back the sigh gathering in his lungs. The Cascade was his baby. He’d demanded full authority over everything. And when it was over he’d be able to take the credit and finally step out within the company in his own right. He loved his father, he did. It didn’t mean he wanted to work under his thumb for the rest of his life. It was the one thing that kept things tense between them.

“Did you need something?”

At the sound of her voice he dragged his gaze from her lips. “Need? I heard back from the designer, Dean Shiffling.” He couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice. “He can’t make it until day after tomorrow. I told him we’d send a car to meet him at the airport.”

They’d taken half a dozen steps down the hall but she halted abruptly. “Luca, we don’t have a car. We have a shuttle van.”

“Fiori does not herd guests into a, what did you call it? A shuttle van.” He muttered something under his breath. There was much to be said for the old Inn, but things needed to change to bring it up to Fiori standards. “I shall look after getting us proper transportation.”

He started walking again, knowing she’d have no choice but to follow after him. Already he could see the adding machine whirring in her head, working sums. A smile played with the corners of his lips. Perhaps it was wrong, but he had to admit he enjoyed putting her off balance. It had been too long since he’d had a worthy opponent to butt heads with and he got the feeling that Mari would be up to the challenge. It was worth it to see that firelight in her gray-blue eyes and her color rise. So much better than her icy withdrawal.

They stepped into the lobby area. “What did you want to see me about?” he asked, surveying the lobby. He looked at the floor. They’d get rid of some of those fussy carpets, polish the stone beneath. And the lighting was wrong. This lobby was comfortable but cluttered. It needed space, and light amongst the richness. Let them play off each other.

“I didn’t. You ran into me, remember?”

“Ah, yes. A happy accident indeed.” He let his eyes twinkle at her. “And you were in a spectacular rush.”

“I thought of something this morning that may come in handy during your redecorating.”

“Yes?” She had his attention.

“And you’re noticeably agitated that your designer isn’t at your beck and call within the hour.”

His eyebrow raised at that. She was going to keep him on his toes. She was correct. He’d wanted to get started right away and he was being forced to wait.

“Perhaps.”

“And people always do what you tell them.”

“Usually, yes. With a notable exception.” He aimed a pointed glare at her.

She held up a key.

She was playing with him now and it amused him as much as annoyed him. She’d never once in their meetings shown a fun side. “I’m assuming that is to a door. A door you’re going to tell me about.”

The faintest of smiles cracked her face. She looked very different when she put away that cold façade. Her eyes lightened and she seemed almost like a precocious child. Like there was more to her than fusty suits that covered as much skin as possible and prim hairstyles. He stared at the utilitarian twist and wondered what it would look like if she let it down. If it would be soft and pliant. Like her skin. He remembered the feel of the nearly translucent skin just beneath her palm. Would the rest of her be as fragile and soft?

Now that wouldn’t be wise at all. Even if a man couldn’t help but wonder.

“I was going to check it out first, but I suppose you want to come along. It’s to the attic.”

“You’ve an attic?”

Her smile grew as she nodded. “We do. And if we find what I think is there, you’re going to be happy I thought of it. Then you can stop obsessing about getting your designer in and focus on something else.”

He ignored the barb, too excited by the idea of a treasure hunt. “Then lead on, by all means.”

They took the service elevator to the top floor. Stepping out into a windowless corridor, Mari stepped to the right toward a large double door. “This is our storage area. I remembered it this morning. Something you said last night twigged with me, about a golden age.” She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

Inside was like finding buried treasure. A film of dust covered everything: chairs, tables, desks, divans, even paintings and sculptures. A room full of potential, waiting to be rediscovered. The hotel must have been a glory in its early days, Luca thought, before someone came along and decided to change it. His eyes lit on a particularly fine tallboy. Whoever had relegated it to the attic should have been whipped. It was too fine, too valuable, to be hidden away in an airless, forgotten room.

“Dear God.” Luca stepped inside. There was little order to it, but he knew already she’d uncovered a gold mine. Excitement drummed in his veins. He wasn’t changing the hotel at all. He was restoring it. The idea thrilled him. He enjoyed the creating part of his job so much more than the management. It was a large reason why he wanted to step out of his father’s shadow. “Why are these things not displayed?”

“I can only assume that renovations over the years have relegated them to the bench.”

“The bench?”

“You know, when sports players aren’t on the field. They’re benched.”

“Right.” He stepped around an old rolltop desk, a layer of dust hiding what he knew would be a gleaming walnut finish. “Feel it, Mari. There’s history in this room. So much history.” If only Dean could be here sooner. They’d take an inventory and choose which pieces would be used in the decoration. Luca wanted to start right now.

But perhaps now was the time to explore.

He looked over at Mari. Prickly as thorns, but he could tell she was enjoying this. It was in the way her eyes lit up, or her fingers daintily touched the back of a tufted chair. She was picking her way to the far right, stepping gingerly and careful not to disturb the dust. She was a careful one, he was coming to understand. Always a deliberate move. Always a purpose. He wondered why. What had made her so cautious, when it was clear that inside she had vision fighting to get out?

“Here it is.”

He gave a plush wine velvet divan a longing look as he passed by, making his way to her. Only to find her standing beside a huge gilt and crystal chandelier that had been hidden by two armoires.

“It’s seen better days. But I thought I remembered it here.”

Luca reached out and touched a large teardrop shaped crystal, sending it tinkling against identical drops. “It’s stunning. It’s perfect.”

“It is lovely.”

Luca looked up at her. Ah, so the chandelier’s magic wasn’t all lost on her. The wistful turn of her lips told him so. A tendril of hair had come loose from her ever-present bun and kissed her cheek. She looked up at him and their eyes met, held. He could already picture the chandelier gracing the ballroom, the shots of light glancing off the crystals on to the gleaming floor and polished wood. Could picture Mari in the middle of it, slim and elegant in a golden evening dress, smiling at him. She was, he realized, cool class and grace. Timeless. His ingénue.

“You love it, too. I can see it on your face.”

Something changed at his words, breaking the spell. Her eyes cooled and she straightened her shoulders, looking away. “It makes perfect sense to use these things if they fit in with your renovations. Much cheaper than purchasing new.”

“Oh, it’s not about the money, don’t pretend otherwise. Look at this place.” He turned, laughing to himself to shake away the intensity he’d felt in the moment. At least she was consistent, protesting about the bottom line. But he’d seen the look of longing in her eyes and he’d wanted her to look at him that way. Every moment she intrigued him more, but he was also increasingly aware that she wasn’t the kind of woman a man trifled with. He forced himself back to the task. “Each of these pieces has a story, can’t you feel it?”

He took a few steps and stopped in front of a gilded mirror. He swiped a hand over the glass, clearing a stripe of dust away. “Oh, Mari, such beautiful pieces. Neglected for so long, forgotten. Just waiting for someone to discover them and make them new again. To make them shine.”

When she said nothing, he looked back. She was trapped with the armoires on one side, the chandelier on the other and he was blocking her path back to the door. She was standing so very still, as if he’d struck her, and he didn’t know why. He got the sense that she was crying, but that was ridiculous because her eyes were bone-dry in her pale face. For some odd reason he wanted to erase the distance between them and take her in his arms. As soon as he thought it, he mentally stepped backward.

Enjoying playing cat and mouse was one thing. Having fanciful thoughts was well and good. Acting on it was another. And this situation was already complicated enough without him adding to it by getting involved with the hotel manager. It wouldn’t be suitable. It would be messy. And he didn’t do messy relationships. He didn’t do any relationships at all, beyond the no-strings-attached ones. He’d determined long ago not to let his heart get involved with a woman. He never wanted to give a woman the power to destroy him the way his mother had his father. The way Ellie had nearly destroyed him.

“Please excuse me, I need to get back. If you’ll lock the door when you leave…”

She took halting steps toward him, cueing him to move out of the way. But he couldn’t, not hearing that cold, dry tone in her voice. He didn’t know what he’d said to cause such a reaction but he knew for certain that she was not all right and that superceded his own concerns.

She stopped a few feet from him. “Please, excuse me,” she repeated, her eyes gray against her washed-out pallor.

He started to step aside so she could pass, but at the last moment he couldn’t let her go without checking she was okay. He moved forward, reached out, clasped her elbow.

“Get your hands off me.”

She said it quietly, calmly, but the underlying venom in it shocked him so much that he stepped back, immediately releasing her elbow. He hadn’t thought it possible but she paled even further.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” she said stridently, as she quickly picked a path around the scattered forgotten furniture. She scrambled out the door, leaving it open. Seconds later he heard the elevator pause, open and close again.

He sat down on the nearest chair, releasing a puff of dust. He’d only been trying to be a gentleman when she was clearly in distress. It was obvious that whatever attraction he’d felt earlier was not reciprocated. She was cold, irritating, dictatorial. Nothing but a complication. He should fire her and get on with turning the Fiori Cascade into the hotel it was meant to be.

But he couldn’t do that. She was good at what she did, he could tell. He’d promised her no one would lose their jobs. That had included her.

And Luca Fiori was a man of his word.

When he went back to the administration offices, her door was closed. He knocked, then opened it.

It was like the scene upstairs had never happened. Her suit was straight, brushed of any dust. Her color was back, enhanced by fresh lipstick and her hair was tidied, even more severely pinned in place, if that were possible.

The sting of the insult had worn away and he’d been left with the very empty knowledge that for some unknown reason, Mari was afraid of him.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

She looked up from what she was writing and pasted on what he was rapidly coming to understand was her face-the-public smile. “I’m fine, thank you. A little behind after our tour, though.” She looked back down at her paper and began writing again.

He wrinkled his brow. The woman before him was cool, assured, in control. A direct contrast to the woman who’d nearly come unglued the moment he’d put a hand on her elbow. A woman practiced at hiding her feelings, who happened to have slipped and let him witness a weak moment.

He should nod and walk away. It was none of his business. But then he remembered the stark look of nakedness he’d seen on her face when he’d spoken of the antiques. She’d looked like a woman who’d been stripped bare. He couldn’t ignore that, even if he wanted to. If he let this go now, it would stand between them the entire time they worked together. It would be far better to get it out in the open. Move on.

“Do you want to talk about it, Mari?”

With a sigh she put down the pen, placed her hands flat on her desk and crossed her legs. “Talk about what, Luca?”

“About what happened in the attic.”

She looked away. “No, I don’t.”

“You were frightened. I want to know why.”

“I was not frightened. I happen to be…claustrophobic.”

It was paltry and he saw through it. But he could not make her talk and he hardly knew her well enough to pry. Still…

“I did not realize that when I reached for your arm.”

Her hands remained flat on the blotter and she met his eyes coolly. “Luca, I am a person who does not like her personal space invaded. I’m not a touchy person. That’s all. I’m sorry if that is blunt, or rude.”

“It is honest, and I appreciate it. So it is not just me you don’t want to touch you, it is everyone.”

Her cheeks flamed. “That’s correct.”

“It’s nothing personal.”

She swallowed, and his gaze was drawn to the curve of her throat. Damn, it sure felt personal right now.

“Nothing personal,” she echoed weakly.

“I’m glad, because we will be working together closely and it will be difficult if there is animosity between us.”

Animosity?

Mari swallowed and forced the cool, neutral expression to remain on her face. He had no idea about what had happened in the attic. How his words touched her, mirrored so many of her own emotions. How she’d suddenly felt strangled and had to get out.

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