But he would assume he had all the control if she let him believe she was dazzled by his…physical prowess. If she let him believe she was foolish enough to be swept away by him, physically and maybe even romantically, he would think he had all the upper hands.
But reallyshewould. If she went in with her eyes wide open. It would leave him open for a mistake—for lots of mistakes.
If she saw this as a business move, it wasn’t lowering or embarrassing. It was simply what must be done to save her legacy. If she focused onbusiness, she wouldn’t worry that it might feel like…more.
Besides, maybe she wouldn’t have to give in completely. Would hereallytry to take her to bed when he found her dull and frumpy compared to the beautiful women he surrounded himself with? That was a line even he wouldn’t cross.
Besides, that was a problem for later. A cross-that-bridge-if-they-come-to-it situation. For now, she had to set up the first steps. The fake-falling-for-his-charm steps.
She pulled out her phone. Brought up a text to him and typed it out.
Dinner at seven, here at my castle.
She would couch it as a business dinner. She’d made some progress with the D’Angelo account, and she would apprise him of this. Along with a plan for him to dazzle the Franco team next week.
When her phone dinged, his response was obnoxious. Of course.
Where is the “please”, amore mio?
She didn’t bother to respond to that.
He would show up. And they would have a romantic dinner, discuss business and then she would let him flirt and push the boundaries and this time, she might respond. At least a little.
So the trap would be laid.
And if there was a little flutter of anticipation—no, not that.Nerves—well, she would master those as well.
* * *
Luciano was full of good humor as he drove up the twisting road to Serena’s castle once again.
His assistant had dutifully collected all the stories about him and Serena this afternoon, and Luciano planned to go over them with her and discuss next steps in their “relationship” department.
He did not know whatshehad planned, but he had plans of his own beyond business. No doubt that would be the story of their strange partnership. A constant battle. Skirmishes lost and won. It was oddly…exciting. The prospect of clashing with a worthy adversary.
As long as he came out on top more than she did, he had a positive feeling about how this could end up.
She had definitely brought him a brilliant idea. He would enact it even better than she could possibly imagine. Though whether she gave him any credit was doubtful.
Most of his challenges were done in private, where no one ever knew. It was best, always, for no one to truly know him. It allowed him to always accomplish what he set out to do. And while everyone attributed his success toluck, he knew the truth. How hard he’d worked. How much he’d overcome. And that no obstacle was too big for Luciano Ascione.
The knowledge had him whistling on his way up her staircase. He was let inside by the disapproving butler Luciano had yet to charm. He’d get there though. He always did.
“Ms. Valli has dinner waiting on the sea balcony,” the man said stiffly, and then led him through the house. The back of the house, as Serena had last night. It amused him, these silly little slights.
Up a winding staircase and into a different hallway than last night, Luciano was led out a door and into the warm, breezy evening on a large balcony. Vibrant plants spilled from colorful pots. More strangely fanciful decoration popped out here. Wind chimes and all sorts of sculptures of animals in different mediums.
Whatwasher obsession with animals? She made no sense. That feeling did not diminish when his gaze finally found her where she was standing at the curve of the railing, surveying him with those cool eyes.
Her expression was guarded, but the way she stood at the edge of the balcony was relaxed. And still… There was something about the way she held herself that made him wary. Was this the same woman who’d been frustrated to let him into her home last night? Smiling at him welcomingly now?
“Good evening, Luciano,” she greeted.
He did not like the way she said his name. Something about it scraped along the back of his neck like a terrible portent melding with goose bumps. He had to fight off a scowl. What man gotgoose bumps? Certainly nothim.
“Good evening,” he offered, forcing himself to smile at her in the way that usually had her frowning.
She didn’t frown today, though he did see the way her hand tightened briefly on the railing she rested it on before she relaxed it again. She gestured at the table. “I know this isn’t visible like a restaurant might be, but the press was eating up your car leaving the hill this morning.”
