Hired:The Italian's Bride

“What, no Gina?” She’d left Luca’s sister after their hot stone massages, refusing an invitation to lunch and instead working in her office, desperate to keep up with the workload.

“Gina sends her apologies, but Charlie has taken her back to Calgary to catch a flight home.”

She caught the small furrow between his eyebrows. “Has something happened? Is it your father?”

“Why would you ask about my father?” The wrinkle deepened.

She looked up at him and put her hand on his arm. “You said her children were staying with him.”

He sighed, and put his hand over hers. “No, it’s not Papa. I rather think it’s Gina and Angelo, but she wouldn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He put on a smile, though she saw through it to the worry. How long had he been shouldering the weight of his family? The thought came to her and she realized it fit. Luca felt responsible. He hid it behind a playboy-type façade, but after the way he’d spoken about his father and now his sister, she was sure of it.

“Let’s not worry about that now. You look lovely. The spa clearly agreed with you.”

Mari began to lift her hand to smooth her hair again but stopped. It had been wonderful, being fussed over and pampered. The stress had melted away with the heat of the rocks. She straightened her shoulders. “Thank you.”

Yet she knew days at the spa and art shopping trips were things she couldn’t get used to. She was Mari Ross of small town Ontario. Luca was Fiori of Fiori Resorts, used to glamour and a lifestyle very different from hers. It was understandable why she’d find that seductive. But it was also a reminder of why it was temporary.

Things like this simply didn’t last.

When they reached the car, he leaned over and kissed her temple before she got in. “You look radiant,” he murmured in her ear.

The spot on her scalp where he’d pressed his lips burned. He was acting as though they did this every day, for Pete’s sake! All the feelings from last night’s fairy tale came rushing back, and she tried to push them away. “It’s the facial,” she replied curtly, sliding over and buckling her seat belt.

They started with a small gallery tucked in behind Banff Avenue. Mari examined piece by piece, from soapstone sculptures to paintings to spectacular photographic work. As the visit continued, Mari felt like she was swept along with a whirlwind…only everywhere she turned, there was Luca, a few steps behind her. Always aware of him, the sound of his voice as he spoke to the proprietor. And using softer, more intimate tones for her.

It was hard to ignore him. Even if she really wanted to.

The saleslady was off to wrap a few of their smaller purchases to take with them, when Luca’s hands draped over her shoulders, his fingers gripping the ends of her scarf. She jumped at the contact.

“Nervous?”

If only he knew. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to sudden moves like that, even if it were Luca doing it. She breathed away the adrenaline rush. “I didn’t see you behind me.”

“This is lovely. The shade brings out the gray in your eyes.”

“My eyes are ordinary blue.”

She turned around to face him, expecting to see him smiling at her. Instead he was gazing at her, a serious expression clouding his eyes.

“Your eyes, Mariella, are anything but ordinary,” he murmured, and before she could catch her breath, he dipped his head and touched her lips with his.

Her fingers gripped his arm as the gentle contact seared through her. His lips were soft as they explored her mouth, undemanding yet beguiling. He pulled away slightly, their breath mingling, waiting. Mari dimly remembered they were standing in the middle of a shop, but the noise faded away to a distant hum as she leaned in the inch and a half to kiss him again. Her eyelids drifted closed and Luca’s free hand cupped her cheek.

The tenderness of it made her want to weep.

She hadn’t realized, hadn’t thought that the absence of affection had left such a huge hole. She hadn’t wanted contact, or tenderness, or even kindness. Hadn’t wanted to make herself vulnerable. She still didn’t. But when Luca touched her this way, kissed her this way, like she was precious, she craved more of it. Like gentle, steady rain after a long drought.

He broke the kiss when a car horn honked outside on the street.

“Luca,” she whispered. She’d come here to keep an eye on his purchases. To make sure he didn’t outspend them again. To make sure she still had a say in the decisions being made.

Only it had backfired. She’d allowed him in and…dear God. She had feelings for him. Alarm thudded through her. She didn’t do feelings! She had to keep things level. Luca wasn’t really interested in her, she wasn’t his type of woman. She knew that. Thank goodness one of them was thinking rationally.