Return of the Italian Tycoon

WHY EXACTLY HAD he agreed to this?

The last thing Angelo wanted to do was take a stroll through Monte Calanetti. It was like taking a walk back through history—a history that he preferred not to dwell on. Still, he had to admit that having Kayla along would make the journey back in time a little more tolerable, but he still didn’t see how it was going to help him create a winning pitch.

He paced back and forth in the hotel lobby, waiting for Kayla to finish getting ready for their outing. He’d also wanted to check with the front desk to make sure that extending their stay wouldn’t be an issue.

“Mr. Amatucci, you’re in luck.” The concierge strode up to him. “We’ve just had a cancellation. And with a bit of juggling we’ve been able to keep you and your assistant in your suite of rooms.” The young man, who was polished from the top of his short cut hair down to his spiffed-up dress shoes, looked quite pleased with himself. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Actually there is.” Angelo wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he decided that Kayla deserved a night out for being such a good sport. “I’ve heard that Mancini’s is quite a popular restaurant.”

“Yes, it is. We’re so lucky to have had Raffaele Mancini return to the village. Mancini’s is so popular that they only take reservations.”

That’s what Angelo suspected. “Would you mind making a reservation for myself and my assistant for tomorrow evening?”

The concierge’s face creased with worry lines.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, sir. They’re usually booked well in advance.”

Angelo wasn’t used to being put off. Even in New York he didn’t have a problem getting into the most popular restaurants. How in the world was it that he was being turned down in little old Monte Calanetti? Impossible.

“Do you know who I am?”

The young man’s eyes opened wide, and then he nodded.

Angelo got the distinct impression that the young man didn’t have a clue who he was or what power he wielded outside of the Tuscany countryside. He felt as though he’d stepped back in time, becoming a nobody who faded into the crowd. With his pride pricked, he gave the young man a pointed look. But he knew that he was letting his past get the best of him. He swallowed down the unwarranted agitation. Of course the young man didn’t know him. The concierge wasn’t much more than a kid.

Angelo decided upon a new approach. “Forgive me. My tone was uncalled-for just now. When you call for the reservations, tell them that the owner of Amatucci & Associates is requesting a table as we are considering including them in the pitch for the royal wedding.”

Maybe he had put it on a little thick just now, but he wanted—no, he needed to prove to everyone including himself that he had far surpassed everyone’s expectations of him—especially his father’s. Angelo’s gut churned at the memory of his father turning to him in anger and saying, You’ll never amount to anything.

“Yes, sir.” The concierge attempted a nervous smile. “I’ll do that right away. I had no idea, sir—”

“It’s okay.” Angelo tipped the young man handsomely to make up for his brusqueness. “I just need you to know that this dinner is very important.” But suddenly Angelo was no longer talking about business or proving himself to the villagers or even the royal wedding. His mind was on Kayla. He liked making her happy, and he was hoping this dinner would earn him another smile or two.

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Angelo moved over to the small sitting area in the lobby to wait for Kayla. Just about to reach for the newspaper to find out what was going on around the world, Angelo caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Curious to see if it was Kayla, he turned.

His gaze settled on her slender form. He stood transfixed as he took in her beauty. Kayla’s auburn wavy hair hung loose and flowed down over her shoulders. A pair of sunglasses sat atop her head like a hair band. Her face was lightly made up and her reading glasses were nowhere in sight. A sheer tan cardigan covered her arms while beneath was a lacy white tank top. She looked so stunning that all of the villagers would be too busy trying to figure out if she was a movie star to take any notice of him.

“Is ever

ything all right with the suite?” She stopped next to him.

He swallowed hard and glanced away, telling himself to relax. This was still the same Kayla that he’d been working closely with for weeks. He gazed at her again, trying to see her as the levelheaded assistant that he’d come to rely on. Spending the day with her, leisurely strolling about was going to be a struggle. He just had to keep in mind that they had a mission to accomplish—a royal wedding to brainstorm.

“Angelo?” She sent him a concerned look.

“Um...sorry. Yes, the suite is ours for the duration.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “That’s good. You had me worried for a moment there.”

“Nothing at all to worry about. Are you ready for your grand tour?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, I am. I’m really looking forward to it.”