Resisting the Sicilian Playboy

She took the glass with both hands, holding it close to breathe in the aroma. It was a ridiculously feminine gesture.

Leo watched her for a moment, downing the rest of his drink in one go. ‘You know, considering your position, I wonder how I have come to be the one apologising.’

‘I can be very persuasive.’ She smiled and took a sip of whisky, making a delicate little hum of approval.

Leo felt his blood pump a little faster. ‘Something we both have in common.’

He stepped out from behind the bar, taking in her polite business suit once more. She was a walking contradiction, this one. All delicate and businesslike on the outside, but with the guts to scale a building in a skirt and heels. He wondered why he hadn’t thrown her out yet.

She placed her glass down, turning to face him head-on with calm determination in the set of her shoulders. ‘I will be leaving for Sicily in the morning. I’m asking you please to just consider my proposal.’

‘You just broke the law and you expect me to do business with you?’

‘I am asking you to at least give me a chance.’ Her voice remained steady, with not a trace of remorse for tonight’s actions.

‘Do you honestly expect me to let you use a seven-hundred-year-old castle for a glorified circus?’

‘Firstly, it’s a wedding. Secondly, from what I understand the castle has been mostly unoccupied for years. Many jobs were lost when your father closed it to the public. We both know that poverty is already an issue in Sicily.’

‘I think you overestimate my ability to empathise.’ He had heard the same argument before countless times.

‘Maybe so, but a high-profile wedding like this would bring a lot of opportunity to a struggling town like Monterocca.’

Leo felt the skin behind his neck prickle at her mention of the name. There was no reason for him to feel anything for that place. The people of his home town meant nothing to him. And yet he felt an uncomfortable pull in his stomach at her words.

‘It would bring a storm of paparazzi,’ he countered.

‘Naturally. But from what I hear that might not be such a bad thing.’

He raised a brow in surprise. ‘Have you been reading the tabloids, Dara?’

‘I have been told that you have something of a bad reputation among the people of Sicily.’

‘My father’s reputation. Not mine,’ he corrected.

‘Yes, but his reputation has stood in your way in the past. It doesn’t go unnoticed that you don’t own a single club in your native region.’

Leo fought the urge to snarl. That was a particular sore spot of his. Opting instead for a nonchalant shrug of his shoulder, he leaned in. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you cared.’

She straightened immediately, her guard firmly in place. ‘Thankfully we both know that caring isn’t high on the agenda here.’ She gestured to the empty tables around them. ‘So, this is the big exclusive launch party?’

‘It’s just a pre-launch. The lower floors are open to a select few guests. Tomorrow is the official event.’ Leo looked down to where the floor below was filled with a swarm of people.

She followed him over to the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the entire club.

‘Do you only mingle with the little people at official events?’ she asked.

‘Well, I have been kept busy up here by a very persistent blonde security breach, it seems.’

She ignored that comment, her delicate features taking on a focused edge. ‘Did you know that those water features are blocking off the lounge area from the rest of the club?’ she asked.

Leo blinked, following her gaze to take in the scene below them.

She continued. ‘Also, the spotlights are a little too strong on the dance floor. Softer red-hued lighting would soften the transition into the seated areas.’

He followed her gaze with interest. ‘Is there anything else you’d like to point out?’

She opened her mouth briefly, then stopped as if rethinking her actions.

‘Oh come now, you’ve already begun—don’t hold back on my account.’ He raised a brow in challenge, noting the delicate glow on her cheekbones as she nipped at the skin of her lower lip.

‘It’s just...your staff’s uniforms. They don’t fit the image at all. They’re quite...sparkly and frivolous.’

‘Platinum is the signature colour,’ he argued ‘They don’t sparkle—they shine.’

She shrugged. ‘They look sparkly to me. I wasn’t trying to insult your style.’