Hired: The Italian's Bride (4 page)

“You love it, too. I can see it on your face.”

Something changed at his words, breaking the spell. Her eyes cooled and she straightened her shoulders, looking away. “It makes perfect sense to use these things if they fit in with your renovations. Much cheaper than purchasing new.”

“Oh, it’s not about the money, don’t pretend otherwise. Look at this place.” He turned, laughing to himself to shake away the intensity he’d felt in the moment. At least she was consistent, protesting about the bottom line. But he’d seen the look of longing in her eyes and he’d wanted her to look at him that way. Every moment she intrigued him more, but he was also increasingly aware that she wasn’t the kind of woman a man trifled with. He forced himself back to the task. “Each of these pieces has a story, can’t you feel it?”

He took a few steps and stopped in front of a gilded mirror. He swiped a hand over the glass, clearing a stripe of dust away. “Oh, Mari, such beautiful pieces. Neglected for so long, forgotten. Just waiting for someone to discover them and make them new again. To make them shine.”

When she said nothing, he looked back. She was trapped with the armoires on one side, the chandelier on the other and he was blocking her path back to the door. She was standing so very still, as if he’d struck her, and he didn’t know why. He got the sense that she was crying, but that was ridiculous because her eyes were bone-dry in her pale face. For some odd reason he wanted to erase the distance between them and
take her in his arms. As soon as he thought it, he mentally stepped backward.

Enjoying playing cat and mouse was one thing. Having fanciful thoughts was well and good. Acting on it was another. And this situation was already complicated enough without him adding to it by getting involved with the hotel manager. It wouldn’t be suitable. It would be messy. And he didn’t do messy relationships. He didn’t do
any
relationships at all, beyond the no-strings-attached ones. He’d determined long ago not to let his heart get involved with a woman. He never wanted to give a woman the power to destroy him the way his mother had his father. The way Ellie had nearly destroyed him.

“Please excuse me, I need to get back. If you’ll lock the door when you leave…”

She took halting steps toward him, cueing him to move out of the way. But he couldn’t, not hearing that cold, dry tone in her voice. He didn’t know what he’d said to cause such a reaction but he knew for certain that she was not all right and that superceded his own concerns.

She stopped a few feet from him. “Please, excuse me,” she repeated, her eyes gray against her washed-out pallor.

He started to step aside so she could pass, but at the last moment he couldn’t let her go without checking she was okay. He moved forward, reached out, clasped her elbow.

“Get your hands off me.”

She said it quietly, calmly, but the underlying venom in it shocked him so much that he stepped back, immediately releasing her elbow. He hadn’t thought it possible but she paled even further.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” she said stridently, as she quickly picked a path around the scattered forgotten furniture. She scrambled out the door, leaving it open. Seconds later he heard the elevator pause, open and close again.

He sat down on the nearest chair, releasing a puff of dust.
He’d only been trying to be a gentleman when she was clearly in distress. It was obvious that whatever attraction he’d felt earlier was not reciprocated. She was cold, irritating, dictatorial. Nothing but a complication. He should fire her and get on with turning the Fiori Cascade into the hotel it was meant to be.

But he couldn’t do that. She was good at what she did, he could tell. He’d promised her no one would lose their jobs. That had included her.

And Luca Fiori was a man of his word.

When he went back to the administration offices, her door was closed. He knocked, then opened it.

It was like the scene upstairs had never happened. Her suit was straight, brushed of any dust. Her color was back, enhanced by fresh lipstick and her hair was tidied, even more severely pinned in place, if that were possible.

The sting of the insult had worn away and he’d been left with the very empty knowledge that for some unknown reason, Mari was afraid of him.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

She looked up from what she was writing and pasted on what he was rapidly coming to understand was her face-the-public smile. “I’m fine, thank you. A little behind after our tour, though.” She looked back down at her paper and began writing again.

He wrinkled his brow. The woman before him was cool, assured, in control. A direct contrast to the woman who’d nearly come unglued the moment he’d put a hand on her elbow. A woman practiced at hiding her feelings, who happened to have slipped and let him witness a weak moment.

He should nod and walk away. It was none of his business. But then he remembered the stark look of nakedness he’d seen on her face when he’d spoken of the antiques. She’d looked like a woman who’d been stripped bare. He couldn’t
ignore that, even if he wanted to. If he let this go now, it would stand between them the entire time they worked together. It would be far better to get it out in the open. Move on.

“Do you want to talk about it, Mari?”

With a sigh she put down the pen, placed her hands flat on her desk and crossed her legs. “Talk about what, Luca?”

“About what happened in the attic.”

She looked away. “No, I don’t.”

“You were frightened. I want to know why.”

“I was not frightened. I happen to be…claustrophobic.”

It was paltry and he saw through it. But he could not make her talk and he hardly knew her well enough to pry. Still…

“I did not realize that when I reached for your arm.”

Her hands remained flat on the blotter and she met his eyes coolly. “Luca, I am a person who does not like her personal space invaded. I’m not a touchy person. That’s all. I’m sorry if that is blunt, or rude.”

“It is honest, and I appreciate it. So it is not just me you don’t want to touch you, it is everyone.”

Her cheeks flamed. “That’s correct.”

“It’s nothing personal.”

She swallowed, and his gaze was drawn to the curve of her throat. Damn, it sure felt personal right now.

“Nothing personal,” she echoed weakly.

“I’m glad, because we will be working together closely and it will be difficult if there is animosity between us.”

Animosity?

Mari swallowed and forced the cool, neutral expression to remain on her face. He had no idea about what had happened in the attic. How his words touched her, mirrored so many of her own emotions. How she’d suddenly felt strangled and had to get out.

He’d touched her.

She hated being touched. And when he’d gripped her elbow, something had shot through her that terrified her.

But it wasn’t memory. It was longing. Something she hadn’t felt for so long the very presence of it undid her. She
liked
the feel of his hand on her elbow, connecting them. Liked it so much she’d wanted to slide forward into his arms and let them surround her. Protect her.

She’d vowed no man would touch her ever again, and until now she’d never wanted one to. Oh, nothing made sense! She’d had to escape, pull herself together.

She risked a look up. He was watching her steadily and she knew there was something
very
personal between them, like it or not. Something she refused to acknowledge further than she already had. She wasn’t equipped for more than accepting there was a small level of attraction. Anything more would be pointless.

“I assure you, it has nothing to do with you.” And the bottom line was, it didn’t. It had to do with her and with Robert and that was all.

“Then I won’t take it personally. I merely wanted to be sure you were all right.”

“I am, and thank you for asking.”

When she smiled this time it was without the frosty veneer. He had accepted what she’d said with politeness and grace. She was touched that someone cared enough to be concerned about her. No one worried about her, because she’d reinvented her life that way. But without even knowing her, Luca seemed to care. It was unexpected, and though she suspected he’d hate the thought, it was sweet.

He stepped forward and laid the key on her desk. “I thought you might want this back.”

She left it where he’d placed it and he stepped away.

He was nearly to the door when he turned back. “Oh, and Mari, I’d like for you to sit in on the meeting with Dean once
I’ve given him the tour and my initial ideas. We’ll work up a preliminary budget and tentative schedule, get the ball rolling so to speak, and that’s your forte. I also would like us to send out a joint memo before then to all the staff. Something to say that over the next months there will be changes and adjustments, but that no one will lose their position. That every effort will be made to make this as seamless as possible for both staff and guests. I keep my promises, Mari. I hope you remember that.”

He was keeping his word. It pleased her that he remembered. When she least expected it, he showed consideration to those around him. Perhaps he was more than she’d initially suspected. Perhaps the playboy from the glossy magazines had a little more substance than she’d given him credit for.

“I’ll draft one up today and e-mail it to you.”

“Thank you, Mari.”

She got up from her desk finally, knowing that she owed him something, even if she didn’t know what. She picked up the key and held it out. When he reached with his hand, she pressed the key into his palm.

“Keep it. I have another somewhere.”

His fingers closed over hers slightly as he cupped the key in his hand. She tried very hard to ignore the tingles shivering up her arm at the warmth of his fingers.

“You’re sure?”

Mari remembered his face as he’d walked into the attic. She’d put up walls because she’d resented the easy joy he’d had, seeing the dusty antiques. She didn’t let herself feel things like that anymore. It would be petty to deprive him of it. It was his hotel, and he was keeping his end of the bargain.

“I’m sure, Luca. And when Mr. Shiffling arrives, we’ll meet and discuss how best to approach the changes to come.”

“Then I’ll hear from you later today.”

He pulled his hand from hers and pocketed the key. He
walked back to his office, and moments later she heard the door click. But she stood in the middle of her own, wondering how on earth she was going to handle the roller coaster that was rapidly becoming her life.

Luca Fiori got to her. In every way.

“I
THOUGHT
we were storing the furniture in the Green Conference room, and the rest in the storage area off the south corridor.”

Mari looked up, knowing she looked harried because she was. Yesterday she’d received another letter. She’d hardly slept last night thinking about what it said. Hating how the past still had this hold over her.

Now, this was the second time Luca had interfered with clearing out the lounge. He stood beside her, not a bead of sweat or hair out of place or a wrinkle in his trousers or his chocolate-brown shirt, calmly issuing edicts.

“You said the
other
conference room. The Mount Baker.” She knew it was hard for Luca to remember, but all the rooms were named after peaks in the Rockies and she was determined to use the proper names, not identify them by color.

“The Mount Baker is being used for meetings.”

“When did that happen?”

“When I scheduled them.”

She took deep breaths to hold on to her temper. Everything was in flux and it was starting to get to her. Now he was changing his mind and she was just supposed to go with it.

“You scheduled them? Why not use another room?”

“Because the company I hired to renovate our spa wanted a room where they could use a projector.”

Her head spun. A spa? They’d have to discuss that one, but not now. Now she had a dozen employees moving furniture and putting it in the wrong place.

“Luca, do you think you could get out of my hair long enough to let me do my job?”

“Certainly. I have calls to make.”

Cool as a cucumber. Mari scowled after him. Luca was infuriating. Nothing seemed to faze him, and she could hardly keep her balance.

She put her hands on her hips and took a moment to redirect the staff—again—that was emptying the Athabasca Lounge of furniture. Once they were back on track, she sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. Her twist had long since been in tatters and she’d resorted to anchoring it with an elastic, except pieces kept escaping and getting in her way.

The more she knew of Luca, the more she didn’t quite know what to make of him. Her playboy image of him had been reshaped and a new version in its place. Oh, the charm was still very present, hard as she tried to ignore it. But she was coming to discover that he was used to getting his own way. Only a week after his arrival and already things were changing, shifting, strange workmen appeared from out of nowhere, and she was signing for deliveries. He’d definitely taken charge. She certainly couldn’t say he was lackadaisical about the job. He seemed completely committed to the Cascade.

And he’d definitely taken to ordering
her
around. This morning was just another in a long line of commands he’d issued. She caught sight of him now, talking to a man in dark green trousers and a lighter green shirt. A laborer of some sort by his uniform. Luca’s arms spread wide and his eyes danced as he spoke to the man.

She had to admit things were never dull anymore. Every day there was a new discovery to be made. Adjustments to be made. The lack of routine threw her off her stride. And when he went at something, he did it all the way. That included making her chafe at the bit at being ordered around when she was, in fact, the manager of the hotel.

Yet all it had taken was one bit of information to make her feel like a complete fraud. To make her return to being the scared little girl she’d been for so long.

A crash echoed through the room and she jumped, pressing a hand to her heart. Her head jerked toward the sound as a flash of a memory raced before her eyes. Glass after glass, shattered against the kitchen wall as she cowered in the corner. Her heart pounded against her ribs and she struggled to keep her composure. This was not
then,
and no one had thrown anything at her. A table holding glassware had been bumped, sending vases and pitchers teetering over the edge. That was all.

With a sigh, she grabbed a spare box and started picking up pieces. But when an employee passed by and said, “Sorry, Ms. Ross,” she lost her grip on the thin edge of her control.

“Sorry? Why can’t you watch where you’re going?” She huffed out a disgusted sigh. “Look at this mess!” Her eyes stung suddenly, mortified. How often had those words rung in
her
ears? Her regret was instant.

The girl faltered, her lips twisting. “I’ll help you clean it up.”

“Is something wrong?”

Mari looked up from her crouched position. Luca stood over her, his usually smiling lips flat with disapproval.

“Besides careless employees breaking hundreds of dollars of crystal? Not at all.”

The girl’s eyes filled with tears at the dressing down and Luca’s gaze fell on Mari, steady and disapproving. Guilt slipped through her; she knew she’d been out of line with her
tone. She was manager of the Cascade. The staff had to know she was still in charge. But that didn’t mean she had to be a bully. Her, of all people! Shame reddened her cheeks.

“Lisa, I’m so sorry.” She looked up at the young woman, mollified and contrite. “I know it was an accident. Please…my tone with you was inexcusable.”

“I
am
sorry, Miss Ross! Please let me do that. It was my fault.”

“Go back to work, Lisa, and don’t worry, we’ll get this straightened out.” Luca’s voice was calmly reasonable, completely unemotional and she hated him for it. She tried to ignore his body just behind her and focused on putting broken pieces of glass in the box. And all the while a voice in the back of her head was chanting,
he’s out, he’s out, he’s out.

“Yelling at the staff isn’t the way to get them to work better.”

Oh, as if she didn’t already know that. Apparently he didn’t understand that the constant changes and adjustments needed meant that she was juggling twice her normal workload. He had no idea of the other stresses she was under, that kept her awake into the dark hours of the night. “I don’t need
you
to tell
me
how to do
my
job.”

“Leave the glass and come with me.”

“God Luca, stop ordering me around!” She looked up again and let her eyes flash at him. Frustration bubbled up and out. “I’m tired of it. You’ve bossed me around all week.”

His eyes darkened and she knew she’d pushed the anger button. Crossed the insubordinate line. Dread curled in her stomach. How many times had she let this happen? How many times had she let her temper get the better of her and then have to pay the price for it? All the lessons she’d learned flew out of her head when he glared at her.

“In my office, if you please.” The words were gritted out.

“No.” She nearly choked on the word, and backed up a few steps. But the thought of following him into his office to be called to the carpet for her actions was more than she could
bear. She would cry. She would beg, like she had so many times before. And then she’d hate him for it.

“Ms. Ross, unless you want this to happen in front of your staff, you’ll come with me now.” His voice was dangerously low and smooth. Sweat pooled at the base of her spine as she rose and brushed her hands down her trousers.

She could handle this. She could. Luca was not Robert. He couldn’t be Robert.

She followed him into his office and while he sat in one of the chairs, she stood by the door. A means of escape if she needed it. Logically she knew this was just an argument. It didn’t mean…but it didn’t stop the physical reaction. That fight-or-flight response. And she knew her choice was always flight.

“Mari,
what
is going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She worked hard at not fidgeting with her hands.

“You’ve been out of sorts all week. Tense, irritated. Short with the staff. What happened today was an accident, and you blew it out of proportion. The same as you did when Christopher put the Maxwells in the wrong room. It was easily fixed.”

“What happened today was staff being careless. And I know I snapped at her, and I apologized.”

“And the Mari I met a week ago, the one so concerned for her people, wouldn’t have handled it by shouting at them.”

She looked away. He was right. She was so tired of him being right. But telling him the truth—that the man who had terrorized her was out on parole—that just wasn’t an option.

“We need to be able to work together, Mari. We need to be on the same page.”

She took a breath and exhaled, glad of the diversion from the real problem. “Maybe that’s it, Luca. I don’t feel that we’re working together. You’re giving orders and expecting them to be carried out. I haven’t had one single input into what’s happening here other than writing the memo to staff.”

“You’ve been at every meeting Dean and I have held.”

“Yes, but why bother? I never get to say anything or weigh in on discussions. The two of you go on your merry way and leave me out of it. All you do is issue orders about what you want done and when. Never mind increased workload or trying to make adjustments. What’s it like, Luca, being at the top? You don’t have to try to finesse the little changes to keep things running as smoothly as possible.”

“I beg your pardon.” His voice was stiff and formal. “I believe you said that was your job.”

Oh, the man made her blood boil. Using that against her. “It is. But I’m still only one person and the volume of work has increased significantly. And you also said you wanted my input.”

“Is there anything we’ve done you don’t agree with?”

She paused. The truth was she
did
like all the ideas and changes so far.

“That’s hardly the point. You’ve set me up as your traffic cop, directing people here and there. Seven impossible things to be done before breakfast is even served.”

“If you can’t handle the job…”

Panic threaded through her. This was what she hadn’t wanted to happen and she’d been working day and night so it wouldn’t. She needed this job. She wanted this job and the life she’d built back. She’d thought that she would simply have to work extra hard for this short period of time and all would be well. And it had only been a week and they were at each other’s throats.

“I can handle the job.
My
job. But I’m only one person, Luca.”

“So you’re angry at me, and not with Lisa. You’re not the only one putting in long hours, Mari. I don’t ask anything of my staff that I don’t ask of myself.”

“Then perhaps you expect too much.”

“Yet here we are. And I’m not the one throwing a tantrum.”

She let out a sound of frustration. “You are infuriating!”

A slow smile curled up his cheek. “So I’ve been told.”

The cajoling did nothing to lighten her mood, only darkened it. Her tone was biting. “Probably by your legions of swooning women.”

“Legions?” He smiled at that, too.

“Would you stop smiling? I read the magazines.”

He laughed then, a rich lazy chuckle that did things to her insides. She immediately hated him for it. She was trying to stay angry! It was easier than actually
liking
him. Watching him work the past week, she’d come dangerously close to admiring his enthusiasm and dedication.

“Oh, Mari, are you jealous?”

“Hardly.” She said with so much contempt she thought he must believe her. Her? Jealous of his women? Why on earth would she be? His eyes sparkled at her and she ground her teeth. It wasn’t fair that his shirt today matched the exact rich brown of his eyes.
So what,
she thought. He had nice eyes, he was sex-on-a-stick gorgeous. But he drove her crazy. She wasn’t in the market for a man, and even if she were, it wouldn’t be a dictatorial womanizer like Luca. She curled her lip. “Trust me, Luca. I have no desire to be a notch on your bedpost.”

Her heart trembled as the words echoed through the office. What did she think she was doing, challenging him!

His smile faded. “That’s clear enough. And let me be clear, Mari. If you have an idea, a problem with anything happening here, you need to speak up. My education did not include mind reading.”

But she wasn’t used to speaking up. She was used to order and routine. She’d gotten where she was by being good at her job, not by running over the top of people to get there. She knew what happened when you rocked the boat.

Slowly, in the silence, she felt her anger dissipate. “I don’t like arguing.”

“I love it.” He smiled suddenly, the corners of his eyes
crinkling. She stared at him. He loved it? Her stomach tied in knots at the very thought of confrontation and she was completely stressed now that she seemed to be dealing with it nearly every day. And he claimed to enjoy it?

“How can you say that?”

“Don’t you feel better?”

“I don’t follow.”

He stood up, but leaned back against his desk, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankle as he braced his hands on the edge of the wood. “Having an honest, open argument is much better than holding frustrations and resentments inside. Clears the air. It doesn’t fester. It’s healthy.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t quite get the concept of healthy confrontation. To me there’s nothing healthy about shouting at each other, hurling insults. In the end someone always ends up getting hurt because one person doesn’t know when to stop.” She said it all in one breath, but couldn’t look at him while she did it. And she steeled herself, willing away the shaking that happened every time she thought about Robert. Knowing he was out there somewhere, and free.

Something clicked in Luca’s head. A seed of an idea that was suddenly so clear he didn’t know why he hadn’t put two and two together before. Maybe because he’d been so focused on his job that he hadn’t given it priority.

Mari had been hurt. Someone had hurt her and now she was afraid.

It made sense. He’d missed the signs but he could see them now. Her aversion to touching, to arguing. The way she’d looked at him in the attic, the way she stood now, by the door, like she was ready to flee. The way her eyes wouldn’t meet his, keeping her distance. In his family, arguing was something done often and passionately, the same as loving. One didn’t negate the other. He couldn’t live life with his sister and
father and not argue, it was part of who they were. But he’d been right about the loving, too. As much as he chafed at his father’s control of Fiori, it didn’t stop the love between them. It was the love that had made them safe. But he could see now that somehow, with Mari, someone had taught her differently. Someone had taught her that love hurt.