Nicolo: The Powerful Sicilian

A hard-on was not the right accessory for an Armani suit.

Okay. This was nonsense.

Nick drew a long, deep breath.

He was a logical man but even he had to admit that were times logic just didn’t work, and this was one of those times. So, back to plan A. Yes, he’d invest in the vineyard, not for Cesare but for himself, if only because backing out of that decision now could be interpreted as weakness.

But two days was all he’d spend here. Forget what he’d told her yesterday, that he’d need two weeks.

Two days was, exactly as he’d originally intended, more than enough time to go over the vineyard’s financial records. Meet with the prince’s people. Eyeball the operation. Appoint an administrator to oversee things. Then he’d be on the first plane for New York—if it was quicker, he’d have the Orsini jet fly over to get him.

And if that seemed like the cowardly way out, it wasn’t.

It was a businesslike approach, and business was what this was all about.

She was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

Yesterday’s ice maiden was back, this time unrumpled.

Neat chignon, or whatever women called that bun they made at the back of their heads. White silk blouse. Black pumps. Gray Armani suit. He almost laughed. They were almost identical, if you omitted the lush rise of her breasts and the long, long legs beneath her slender skirt.

Her eyes swept over him, her look an appraising one. Nick offered a thin smile.

“It’s the latest in gangster-wear in New York.”

If he’d thought to embarrass her, he’d failed.

“And so much more attractive than tattoos that say ‘Mother,’” she said sweetly.

“Why, princess. You’ve practically seen me naked. You know damned well I don’t have any tattoos.”

Color flooded her face.

“I have not seen you naked,” she said, her voice gone cold.

Nick shrugged. “Close enough.”

“And never any closer, I assure you.”

He took a step toward her. To his gratification, she took a step back.

“A challenge, princess?” he said, very softly.

“A statement of fact, Mister Orsini.”

He gave her a slow smile. There was something about her when she was like this, just the slightest bit off balance, that was very appealing.

“A challenge,” he said again.

And then, because it seemed the only thing to do, he bent his head and brushed his mouth lightly over hers.

Her lips were soft. Warm. Did they tremble just a little under the light pressure of his? There was only one way to find out. Nick cupped her face in one hand and kissed her again, a longer kiss this time, his lips slightly parted as they covered hers and, yes, her mouth was trembling, her breathing was quick, she was rising on her toes, leaning toward him and now her lips parted, too…

She made a sound, put her hands against his chest and her eyes flew open and fixed on his. He saw endless questions in their deep blue depths, questions he suspected were identical to his. For a heartbeat, he thought of answering them all, for her and for him, by taking her in his arms and kissing her until she begged him to finish this insane thing between them.

Maybe it wasn’t what was happening that was crazy.

Maybe it was him.