The Commanding Italian's Challenge

The very word tasted wrong on his lips, and he wasn’t surprised when his assistant shot him an apprehensive look.

‘I believe it’s someone’s birthday in her department. According to the email, they’re going to dinner and drinks, clubbing afterwards.’

Maceo had no valid reason for the haze that passed over his eyes. Or the sharp sting of disappointment that trailed behind it. Perhaps it was because for the first time in recent memory he’d put work to one side. He’d been prepared to subject himself to dinner with Faye, perhaps even answer a few of her questions. Only to find she’d made plans that didn’t involve him.

He snarled at the snide inner voice. He had a right to be disgruntled. He was her boss.

‘Have my car brought around and alert my pilot. I’m leaving.’

‘Si, signor.’

To his credit, Bruno didn’t express surprise at Maceo’s uncustomary early exit from the office. He jumped into action, leaving Maceo simmering in unsettling temper.

He was still seething after a solitary dinner, an unremarkable stroll through the gardens with a very solemn Pico and his first nightcap. He refused to glance at his watch, although the opulent antique clock in his study did an adequate job of telling him it was close to midnight.

The sound of a water taxi propelled him to the French doors. From that vantage point he watched Faye step onto the jetty with a grace and agility that wouldn’t have been remiss in a ballet dancer. She turned towards the driver as he handed her something. It took a moment—and a peculiar tightening in his gut—to realise it was her shoes.

She laughed in response to the driver’s words, one hand lifted to tuck back a swathe of lilac hair in the fluttering breeze, the other clinging to her shoes. The carefree spectacle, for some absurd reason, tripped his irritation into fury.

He made the journey from study to jetty without recalling having moved.

Extracting his wallet, he shoved a handful of notes at the driver and barely heard the man’s effusive thanks.

‘Did you have a good time?’ he asked Faye, aware of the ice dripping from his voice. And not caring one little bit.

CHAPTER FIVE

SHE WHIRLED AROUND and the smile slowly drained from her face.

This day of firsts continued to pummel him. Because, absurdly, Maceo felt a dart of regret that she was no longer smiling.

‘Yes, I did,’ she murmured. ‘And before you give me a hard time—’

He waved her away. ‘You don’t need my permission to come and go as you please.’

Wry astonishment flared in her eyes. ‘I beg your pardon, but have you tried telling that to your face?’

A smile tugged at his lips, despite the irritation bubbling in his veins. Staring past her to the disappearing water taxi achieved the desired effect of restoring his disgruntlement. ‘A heads-up would have been nice.’

Her lips pursed. ‘So you could give me a hard time about it before I left?’

‘So I could’ve cancelled the plans I made for dinner.’

Her eyes widened in shock. Maceo chose not to be insulted.

‘I... You wanted to take me out to dinner?’

‘Not out in public, no. I thought we could have dinner together here at the villa.’

Her long lashes swept down. ‘Oh. Well, since you’ve been treating me like an unwanted guest for the last three weeks, dining with you was the last thing I expected.’

He frowned. ‘You exaggerate. I’ve treated you in no such way. And I have it on good authority that your every wish has been catered for.’

Because he’d instructed it to be so. He had affluence to spare, after all, and at the end of this he wanted her amenable to selling that share to him.

Is that all you want?

He ignored the question as she sighed. ‘I’m not about to get into another argument with you, Maceo. Or, heaven forbid, offer my views on the way you host guests in your home.’