Hired:The Italian's Bride

“Luca, do you think you could get out of my hair long enough to let me do my job?”

“Certainly. I have calls to make.”

Cool as a cucumber. Mari scowled after him. Luca was infuriating. Nothing seemed to faze him, and she could hardly keep her balance.

She put her hands on her hips and took a moment to redirect the staff—again—that was emptying the Athabasca Lounge of furniture. Once they were back on track, she sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. Her twist had long since been in tatters and she’d resorted to anchoring it with an elastic, except pieces kept escaping and getting in her way.

The more she knew of Luca, the more she didn’t quite know what to make of him. Her playboy image of him had been reshaped and a new version in its place. Oh, the charm was still very present, hard as she tried to ignore it. But she was coming to discover that he was used to getting his own way. Only a week after his arrival and already things were changing, shifting, strange workmen appeared from out of nowhere, and she was signing for deliveries. He’d definitely taken charge. She certainly couldn’t say he was lackadaisical about the job. He seemed completely committed to the Cascade.

And he’d definitely taken to ordering her around. This morning was just another in a long line of commands he’d issued. She caught sight of him now, talking to a man in dark green trousers and a lighter green shirt. A laborer of some sort by his uniform. Luca’s arms spread wide and his eyes danced as he spoke to the man.

She had to admit things were never dull anymore. Every day there was a new discovery to be made. Adjustments to be made. The lack of routine threw her off her stride. And when he went at something, he did it all the way. That included making her chafe at the bit at being ordered around when she was, in fact, the manager of the hotel.

Yet all it had taken was one bit of information to make her feel like a complete fraud. To make her return to being the scared little girl she’d been for so long.

A crash echoed through the room and she jumped, pressing a hand to her heart. Her head jerked toward the sound as a flash of a memory raced before her eyes. Glass after glass, shattered against the kitchen wall as she cowered in the corner. Her heart pounded against her ribs and she struggled to keep her composure. This was not then, and no one had thrown anything at her. A table holding glassware had been bumped, sending vases and pitchers teetering over the edge. That was all.

With a sigh, she grabbed a spare box and started picking up pieces. But when an employee passed by and said, “Sorry, Ms. Ross,” she lost her grip on the thin edge of her control.

“Sorry? Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” She huffed out a disgusted sigh. “Look at this mess!” Her eyes stung suddenly, mortified. How often had those words rung in her ears? Her regret was instant.

The girl faltered, her lips twisting. “I’ll help you clean it up.”

“Is something wrong?”

Mari looked up from her crouched position. Luca stood over her, his usually smiling lips flat with disapproval.

“Besides careless employees breaking hundreds of dollars of crystal? Not at all.”

The girl’s eyes filled with tears at the dressing down and Luca’s gaze fell on Mari, steady and disapproving. Guilt slipped through her; she knew she’d been out of line with her tone. She was manager of the Cascade. The staff had to know she was still in charge. But that didn’t mean she had to be a bully. Her, of all people! Shame reddened her cheeks.

“Lisa, I’m so sorry.” She looked up at the young woman, mollified and contrite. “I know it was an accident. Please…my tone with you was inexcusable.”

“I am sorry, Miss Ross! Please let me do that. It was my fault.”

“Go back to work, Lisa, and don’t worry, we’ll get this straightened out.” Luca’s voice was calmly reasonable, completely unemotional and she hated him for it. She tried to ignore his body just behind her and focused on putting broken pieces of glass in the box. And all the while a voice in the back of her head was chanting, he’s out, he’s out, he’s out.

“Yelling at the staff isn’t the way to get them to work better.”

Oh, as if she didn’t already know that. Apparently he didn’t understand that the constant changes and adjustments needed meant that she was juggling twice her normal workload. He had no idea of the other stresses she was under, that kept her awake into the dark hours of the night. “I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job.”

“Leave the glass and come with me.”

“God Luca, stop ordering me around!” She looked up again and let her eyes flash at him. Frustration bubbled up and out. “I’m tired of it. You’ve bossed me around all week.”