Falling for Her Billionaire Boss

She eyed him carefully. Had he? He never looked tense or flustered or tired, but she knew for a fact that he was up and working by the time she arrive

d in the morning, and just last night when she had gone home late, he was still on his computer in his office.

“I don’t think you’ve been pushing anyone harder than yourself. But maybe The Cascade staff isn’t used to that pace.”

“Staff like you?”

She put off answering by nibbling on her potato salad. But his gaze remained on her face and she swallowed.

“I didn’t get where I am without putting in the hours,” she replied. She was tired. It was no secret. But part of the fatigue was due to the fact that things were changing, and she was unsettled. She was under stresses he knew nothing about, nor would he. She was waking more in the night than she usually did. The nightmares had returned. She was looking over her shoulder. It meant she started most days already at an energy deficit.

“I wouldn’t have asked so much of you if I weren’t sure you could handle it, Mari.”

And she couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her at his words of confidence.

“And I thank you for that. As well as thanking you for realizing I needed a breather.”

When Mari pushed away her plate, Luca reached into the basket one more time.

“I know I probably shouldn’t have, but I got them to sneak in dessert.” He removed a ceramic pot and a spoon, held them up.

“You thought of everything.”

“Not everything. They only sent one spoon.”

She stared at the single utensil. What sort of game was he playing? She thought he’d simply hand her the dish and that would be it. But instead he dipped the spoon in and out, a smile playing on his lips.

“I told you that there was simple beauty to be found. That The Cascade meant an experience, more than providing a service. What if we weren’t running the hotel? What if we were guests? We wouldn’t be thinking of whether or not this was profitable, we’d be thinking of how wonderful the afternoon has been. We’d be opening our senses, our minds. We’d be thinking of ourselves and enjoyment and not worrying about a thing.”

Her heart tripped over itself as he held up the spoon, rounded with crème brulée.

“Close your eyes, Mari.”

Oh God. This wasn’t putting up boundaries at all, or establishing a status quo. It was blowing it all to smithereens and she wasn’t sure she could do it.

He held the spoon, waiting. She was caught by his warm gaze, as lazy and seductive as the creamy concoction on the spoon.

And she closed her eyes.

The cold spoon touched her lips and she instinctively opened them. Felt the cool richness of the dessert enfold her tongue. Smooth, soft, sweet.

As the spoon left her lips, she opened her eyes.

Luca dipped the spoon again, but this time tasted it himself, his gaze never leaving hers.

“It’s good,” he murmured, presenting her with the spoon once more.

The spoon that had just been in his mouth. It was silly that the thought would have such an effect on her, but it felt like seduction. She opened her mouth and let him feed her, feeling more and more like she was completely out of her mind and her element. She didn’t know what to do with romance. And this was clearly romance.

“It really is exquisite.” Not only the dessert, but being here with him, and she had to find a way to divert the mood. It was sheer craziness that she’d let herself fall under his spell, but she knew what came next. Before she knew it, they’d be kissing. The very idea made her tremble, from want and fear. She was not equipped for an affair, and she was smart enough to know an affair was all there would be with Luca. He was a limited time fantasy, and she couldn’t afford to buy into it.

She had to bring it back to the business of the hotel somehow. Mari started fussing with plates and silverware to avoid being fed any more of the decadent dessert. “I think we could develop a selection of picnic items.”

Luca helped himself to one more spoonful and Mari forced herself to look away from how his lips encircled the spoon.

He put the dish down and picked up his wine. “Interesting idea. Maybe offer a selection to choose from. Don’t want the bocconcini? Have a shrimp and rice salad, perhaps. Herbed chicken instead of lamb. Gunther’s chocolate terrine instead of crème brulée. What do you think?”

What Mari thought was that test driving a Ferrari wasn’t the same as owning one, and doing a dry run for a romantic picnic wasn’t like being on one. But…the potential was still there, and she could use her imagination. Especially after the last few moments.