“Doing what?”
“I worked as a mechanic for my father by day and in a local nightclub by night. I saved every euro I earned. By the time I was twenty-one, I’d saved enough to put down a deposit to buy the nightclub. I got a bank loan for the rest. I paid the loan back within fourteen months.”
“How?”
“By transforming it into something so exclusive that everyone wanted to be a part of it. I introduced a membership fee that only the seriously wealthy could afford.”
“A risky gamble.”
He reached for her unwanted glass of bourbon and raised it. “The best gamble I ever made.”
“But what made it such a success? Surely there are private nightclubs throughout the continent?”
“None that offer what I offer.”
“Which is?”
“Business and hedonism all mixed together under the one supremely discreet roof.”
The faint line in her forehead appeared.
“Do you want me to explain it to you, Miss Marino?”
After a small hesitation, she nodded.
He unhooked his ankle and put his foot back on the floor. Leaning forward, glass in his hand, elbows resting on his thighs, he held her stare. “All my clubs follow the same basic template. Inside them are four distinct areas I call zones. There is the business zone, with private rooms businessmen can use to negotiate deals in without prying eyes or ears. When they have finished, they can relax in the chill-out zone, and eat and drink, play a hand of cards, whatever they want. Or they can head into the nightclub itself and dance. For those who are feeling…let’s call it amorous, they can avail themselves of the fourth zone. The sex zone.”
Her eyes flickered, her cheeks flushing beautifully.
Good. Maybe if Francesca truly understood the kind of man he was and the kind of business he’d created, she would know to keep her distance from him and stop her attempts at flirtation.
“The sex zones are a series of rooms, much like you would find in a hotel. They each come with a large bed and an attached shower room and an array of toys and condoms. There is no requirement to pre-book the rooms. Each door has a colour-coded lock. If it’s green, it means it’s available. If it’s red, it’s taken. If it’s amber, then it signifies that it’s taken, but that others are welcome to join the participants… If you know what I mean?”
Her face still saturated with colour, she made another slow nod.
“Sex sells, Miss Marino. More than anything else. And my clubs offer the perfect hedonistic experience. The only rule isthat everything is consensual, and I have a variety of measures in place to ensure this.”
When she finally responded, her voice was a whisper. “Do you use those rooms?”
“No. When I am at my clubs, I am there to work.” The good Lord alone knew the temptation that had been thrown his way through the years; the women who’d connived and cajoled in all manners of sensuous fashion to entice him into one of those rooms.
“But you’ve had a lot of women?”
“Yes.”
“More than one woman at a time?”
“Yes.” Not taking his eyes off her, Gino drank a good measure of his bourbon. After wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, he slowly said, “If you want me to go into detail about my sex life, then I will as that’s the deal we made, but ask yourself first if you want to hear the answers. I will never marry or have children, and I’ve never had a serious girlfriend for the reason that life is short and for living, and I am living my dream, so you need to keep that in mind if you choose to ask more probing questions.”
There was a tremor in her hand as she drained her wine. Only after she’d refilled her glass and tucked her feet back under her bottom did she speak again, this time in a stronger, more measured tone. “Do you find me attractive?”
Of all the questions she could have asked…
The static that felt like a constant presence in his bloodstream heated and thrummed. “Yes.”
His answer hung in the air between them.
Her voice dropped again. “Is that why I unnerve you?”
