She found herself having to swallow in order to speak. He was toying with her, and she had prepared herself for all the ways he might test her, but she hadn’t counted on…this, she supposed. She knew she was smarter, more determined, far more professional than this man, but he knew how to zero in on the things she was not confident in.
Mainly…this strange magnetic pull. She could not call itcharm, because she was notcharmedby him. It was something darker, more illicit. Seduction…but at least she knew it was only meant to embarrass her. She had nointerestin him, nor he her, so it wasn’t as though she was afraid something untoward might happen. More…
She simply did not know how to box it up, control it, undercut it. She could not seem to control her body’s odd, unfamiliar responses. Frustrating, but not the end of the world. She would learn.
Serenaalwayslearned.
“It is not anything that requires a demonstration,” she told him, using her best haughty managerial voice. She did not jerk her arm away, no matter how much she wanted to. In a test of wills, she would always,alwayswin. But she did not dare look directly into his dark, amused eyes. She fixed on a strand of dark hair that swept across his forehead. “Laughing at a terrible joke, complimenting someone. These are all harmless flirtations. Business flirtations. Private flirting involves touch. The brush of a hand. Knees touching under a table. It isphysicaland promises something physical in return.”
“So, what you are saying is, for our audience to believe in our little fiction, we must engage in the promise of something physical?” He let that sit there between them. A silence that settled in her throat like some kind of blockage, as his mouth curved ever so slightly, the look in his dark gaze downright piratic. “In public, that is,” he added, with a feigned innocence that did not suit thescorpiontail in his smile at all.
Or the way his hand moved from elbow to waist. Curled there, in a strangely possessive touch. And for a moment, that touch—not at all different from when they’d danced tonight and she’d been wearing muchless—seemed to do something to drain all the thoughts from her brain.
Which, she thought, was thepoint. And if she could focus on the fact he was playing some kind of…Luciano Ascionegame with her, she would not be felled by…whatever this was.
“I suppose, if you think it necessary.” It irritated her that her voice soundedlower, but she did not let it show. “But you know what else would suffice?” she replied, pleased with her cool tone this time, even if she could feel the heat on her cheeks betraying her.
“What?”
“A ring. Expensive. Gaudy.” She held up her left hand, wriggled the ring finger. “For all to see.” She carefully dislodged herself from his grasp, because she didn’t know how much longer she could hold on to thatdetachmentwhen the feel of him seemed to brand himself there on her skin.
No one could accuse her of scrambling away. For that she would be proud. She fixed him with an indulgent smile, meant to grate. “No public groping necessary.”
“I have never been accused ofgroping,cara.”
She made a considering sound, making it clear she didn’t believe him without coming out and saying it. Then she settled herself back in her desk chair. “Now, what other rules should we commit to paper?”
* * *
She’d come up with ten more. Luciano couldn’t even remember them. She yammered on like the most boring of school lecturers, and he’d settled himself on her bed where he’d determined he would sleep. If only to watch her splutter like an offended nun.
After she took what seemed like a million years to meticulously put away everything in her desk, she turned to him with that cool look, a small smile in place. “Now, we must discuss sleeping arrangements.”
He didn’t discuss it. He slept in her bed. He had offered to share it and enjoyed doing so. She had so icily declined, it had delighted him. Particularly when she’d stalked over to the closet, pulled out some linens, then made herself a little bed on the window seat. Her tiny demon cats had hopped up and made themselves comfortable on her blankets, blinking at him in ways that felt…threatening.
Which was ridiculous, of course. Neither of them were much bigger than hishand.
In the morning, he’d woken in her surprisingly comfortable bed to find her gone from the window seat. Any bedding she’d used had clearly been put away.
The man who seemed to run the staff had met Luciano in the kitchen when he’d found his way there and told him coolly that Ms. Valli was indisposed and that he was welcome to leave whenever he saw fit.
Reading between the lines, Luciano read that asnow, but he’d taken the offered coffee instead, overstayed his welcome to all and sundry before waltzing out of the place and to his car.
In the midmorning light, Luciano drove back to his apartment in the city. He noted the photographer hiding in a curve of the drive up to Serena’s home, but pretended he did not.
The stories would be abuzz in their circles by lunchtime. He would no doubt start hearing from his father’s stalwart advisors who would love to oust him if they could figure out how.
This would certainly ignite their ire, but no one would be able to fault him for what this would do for the company. The attention would put their name in circles where the Americans had been dominating. It would have their on-the-fence customers interested enough to take meetings again.
Two wealthy people from families long known to be in a feud would indeed be gossip fodder. Not new to him, considering the company he tended to like to keep was very interested in press and any kind of publicity they could drum up, but it would be new to Serena.
In some ways, she had a far better plan than he could have come up with. And in other ways, he didn’t think she had the slightest clue what she was getting herself into.
He supposed that dichotomy was why he had such a difficult time pushing thoughts ofheraway as he went about his day. It was the only possible reason, really.
Besides, what modern woman in their twenties kept a drawer full of colorful notebooks and markers and used them? What kind of young woman lived in a castle decorated with the strangest animal themes?
Pigs on her headboard. It was insanity.
