Hired: The Italian's Bride (3 page)

“We should switch tables. There’s usually a wait for this one and our guests do come first.”

Luca regarded her over his glass. “No need. I took care of it.”

“And how, may I ask, did you do that?”

His smile was disarming. She noticed again the sensual curve of his lips and wondered what cruel joke the universe was playing, sending such a man for her to deal with. She was completely out of her depth and drowning fast.

“I called the room, spoke to a lovely gentleman who is here celebrating his twentieth anniversary with his wife. I explained who I was and said that the hotel would be happy to treat him—and his wife—to a five-course meal in their room, along with a bottle of champagne.”

Mari’s lips dropped open before she could help it. Mentally she added up the cost of such a thing. It was selfish. Indulgent. All so he could have the best table.

“It would have been easier, and cheaper, for us to simply eat at a different table.”

Luca ran a finger down the leather spine of the menu, a smile playing on his lips. “Perhaps. But they get an anniversary to remember and I get to enjoy the sight of you at the best table in the house. It is…how do you put it? A no-brainer.”

She ignored the compliment. “It’s self-indulgent.”

“Of course. Shouldn’t the Cascade be about indulgence?”

She lowered her voice to a whisper that hissed across the table. “You’re going to indulge us right out of business!”

A waiter came to take their order. Without missing a beat, Luca ordered the Harvest Squash Soup and Pancetta Salmon, while she scanned the menu once more. In the heat of the dis
cussion, she’d forgotten what she wanted, and the gap of silence was awkward.

“The pasta, Ms. Ross?” the waiter suggested. She closed the leather cover and nodded. When the menus were taken away, Luca leaned forward, close enough she could smell the light, masculine scent of his cologne. Exclusive, expensive and somehow perfectly Luca. Her pupils widened as he took the finger that had caressed the menu and ran it lightly over her wrist. The action surprised her so much she couldn’t even think to pull away.

“Mr. and Mrs. Townsend will have an incomparable anniversary night. Mr. Townsend is a prominent attorney, did you know that? His wife is involved in several charities. What do you think they’ll say to their friends when they return home? That the room was lovely? That the mountains were splendid? That could be said of nearly every hotel in this area.” He withdrew his finger from the delicate skin of her wrist and looked in her eyes. “They will remark at how special they felt. The delightful meal served in their room by attentive staff. The complimentary champagne and the single red rose presented to Mrs. Townsend.”

He sat back, satisfied. “Don’t underestimate the power of a happy customer, Mari. We’ll more than earn back what dinner cost. The Townsends will come back. And they’ll likely bring a trail of friends and associates with them. They’ll remember the romance.”

His eyebrows lifted as it dawned. “That’s it. That’s what the Cascade needs to become. Get out your day planner, Mari.”

He changed tack so often she was having difficulty following. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“The Fiori Cascade. Remember the Romance.” He clapped his hands together then reached for his wine. “This room—the Panorama. It’s romantic, don’t you think?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Look at the color, the furnishings. Timeless,
nostalgic, reminiscent of a golden age. Gleaming wood, rich scarlet and gold. A place where women feel beautiful and wooed. A place to slow down, be indulged, pampered. Chandeliers and fine wine and…”

He paused.

“You’re not saying anything.”

“I can’t get a word in edgewise.” Mari left her planner right where it was. By tomorrow his ideas could have changed a half dozen times, for all she knew.

“You don’t like it? You don’t agree?”

“I think you’re getting carried away with an idea.”

“Oh, but, Mari ideas are the best part.” He reached out and clasped her hand. “There is nothing more exciting than looking and seeing all the possibilities.”

She pulled her hand away, cradling it in her lap. Luca carried on as if he hadn’t noticed her abrupt withdrawal. “Taking a vision and making it reality is the best part of my job.”

Their first course was served. Mari watched as Luca tried the soup, closed his eyes and murmured, “Mmm.”

She stared at the full curve of his lips, shocked to feel the stirrings of attraction in the midst of such animosity. Instantly those stirrings were followed by numbing fear. It wouldn’t matter. She wasn’t capable of relationships. She was done with trusting and taking risks. That she’d suddenly gone from physical appreciation to attraction startled her sufficiently to keep her on task. She stabbed at her greens like she was wielding a pitchfork.

He looked around and Mari tried to see what he was seeing. People enjoying fine food in an elegant setting. It’s what they paid for, what they expected. How would the rest of the hotel look, if it followed in the tradition of this room?

“What are you thinking?” He put down his spoon and she felt his eyes on her.

“Just wondering.” The trouble was, she
could
see it.
Could see how stunning, marvelous it would be. Like stepping back in time.

“Trust me, Mari.”

She dropped her eyes and focused on spearing a large chunk of walnut from her salad. “I can’t.”

“Don’t you feel the beauty here? This room…this is what the Cascade should embody. It’s warm, it’s cozy, yet it’s rich and opulent at the same time. From the outside it’s a castle. On the inside…it needs to be an embrace. When guests are here they need to be soaked in beauty.”

“Please.” That one word was ripe with disdain. She could not be wooed by pretty words, and he’d been doling out more than his share. Pretty words did not keep a four-star hotel profitable. Pretty words did not…would not keep her in line.

“You’re worried about the money. And details.”

“Bingo.”

Luca picked up his spoon again, ate some soup. “I’ll tell you what, Mari. I’ll start making some notes. I’ll even put some preliminary figures together…just for you.”

“You’re too kind.” She didn’t attempt to disguise the sarcasm. It was becoming increasingly clear that Luca was full of grand schemes and she was going to have her hands full keeping him out of the clouds and on the ground.

“Mari?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Why are you so determined to dislike me?”

She looked away from the steady gaze. There was nothing condemning in it, just a curiosity that burned through her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to like him or dislike him. It was more a matter of self-preservation. She didn’t like change, didn’t work well with change. And it was everything Luca represented. She’d worked so hard to get where she was, to feel comfortable and established and…safe. And he waltzed in, in his expensive clothes and sexy smile and wanted to change
everything. And with a method that made no sense to her. All of a sudden
safe
wasn’t a sure thing.

“It’s not about liking or disliking, Luca. It’s about the changes. You’re changing more than the name. You’re changing things that some of us have worked very hard to maintain. I’ve put a lot of time and energy into this hotel and perhaps I feel like that’s being swept away without a moment’s consideration. Meanwhile all of us here will remain long after you’re gone. When you’re done, you can wash your hands of it. We’re left to deal with what comes after.” He’d blow through like a whirlwind, and what destruction would be left in his wake?

Luca leaned forward, linking his hands on the white cloth on the table. “I understand that, really I do. But this is where you have to trust me. This is what I do, Mari. This is what my family has done for decades. I know my job and I’m good at it. If I weren’t, Fiori wouldn’t be nearly as successful as it is. I’m not going to throw you…or the staff…out along with the old carpet. I promise.”

And oh, she wanted to believe him. Desperately. But trust was a very rare commodity.

“You also need to consider how this will affect us financially. The reality of it. It cannot be ignored.”
I can’t be ignored,
she thought, but swallowed it away. This wasn’t about her, not really.

“Reality is overrated. What we’re selling is an experience, an escape, a fantasy.”

He leaned over so that the enticing scent of his cologne tickled her nose once more. His toffee-eyes captured hers. “When was the last time you indulged in a fantasy, Mari?”

M
ARI
stopped, smoothed her skirt first and then her hair, before knocking on the door that used to be to her office before she became general manager.

“Come in.”

It was odd, finding her new boss sitting in her old chair, but she pushed the feeling aside. He needed a working area and she was now in the general manager’s office. It didn’t make sense to feel he was taking over her space. She was the one with the big office now.

She’d had to push a lot of feelings aside this morning, like the lingering fear that flickered in her belly when she remembered her dream of last night. There was no sense worrying about the fact that the dream was back. She would just chalk it up to the chocolate she’d indulged in last night at dessert. That, paired to the chaos that was rapidly becoming her life, explained it away. Even if she couldn’t quite shake the darkness of it from her system. Considering the letter she’d received two days ago, it wasn’t surprising. She hated the thought of Robert being up for parole. Hated the way the mere mention of his name paralyzed her. Focusing on work was the only thing keeping her sane. And Luca wasn’t making it any easier. He’d featured in her dream as well. But she had to shake it and be objective.

This was about today, about figuring out what it was Luca planned to do and exerting some of her own caution over the procedure. He would do whatever he wanted. She’d realized that after their dinner last night. But she was no pushover. Not anymore. She would keep things logical, reasonable. Within boundaries. In
all
ways.

“Mari! Good morning.” He gave a click of the mouse before pushing back his chair. “I was just sending an e-mail to my sister in Florence. Sharing my ideas and getting her input. She’s got a fantastic eye.”

“Then why didn’t
she
come?” The question was out before Mari could think and her cheeks bloomed at her rudeness.

“Because she has a three-year-old and a baby to look after. I’m hoping she’ll make it out next summer, when the refurbishing is complete and the landscaping done. As it is, she’s nagging me to be back home for Christmas.”

“You think we’ll be done that soon?”

“Shoulder season is the best time to renovate. I can always come back after the holiday and finish things off.”

Mari stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. Her blazer pocket contained half a dozen messages she should answer and she knew there were matters that needed her attention on her desk. So why didn’t she get to it?

“Did you need something in particular?” Luca posed the question, raising his eyebrows and Mari felt even more awkward.

“No, not really. I’ll just, um, go to my office, and if you need me for anything you can find me there.”

“I’m waiting for a call from a designer. He did some work for us when we bought the Colorado Springs property and with the similarity in settings, I thought bringing him up here would be a good idea. I know what I want, but I’m at a loss when it comes to deciding fabrics and tapestries and…well, it’s Dean’s job to take my vision and put it all together.”

Her mouth went dry. Nine o’clock in the morning and he
was already moving forward without even discussing things with her. Was this all going to happen without her, then? “And what’s my job in all this?”

For a moment she was afraid he was going to get up and her fingers felt for the handle of the door. Briefly she remembered the touch of his finger on her wrist last night. But he merely crossed an ankle over his knee and smiled up at her. “Your job is to keep the hotel running as seamlessly as possible for our guests and staff. I can already see you’re good at it. And your job is also to help me. I do want your input, Mari.”

When the phone on his desk rang, his attention slid away from her completely, and she felt like a child dismissed from the principal’s office. Damn, she’d come in here hoping to get some insight into his plans, figure out a way to retain at least some control over the whole business. And she was leaving with nothing.

Mari made her way to the manager’s office in a daze. It was clear she wasn’t needed when it came to whatever changes were impending. As far as Luca was concerned, she was there to keep people happy.

She shut her office door firmly and threw her purse on her chair. She hadn’t worked this hard to build up her life to have someone dismiss it like it didn’t matter. Her years of being a doormat were over. She thought of the court proceedings happening this very moment and lifted her chin. She smoothed her hands over her cheeks, trying to soothe away the nagging feeling of inadequacy. She wouldn’t let him do this to her. This was
her
life now, and she would hold on to it with both hands.

He was bringing in a designer, of course he was. That was logical. But it was all happening so quickly. She wanted everything back the way it was.

Luca would consult with this designer and she’d be out of the decision-making process. She couldn’t let that happen. If
she did he’d start making unilateral decisions that affected everyone. He’d have all the control and the thought terrified her.

But how could she hold her ground, when the very thought of asserting herself into the situation made her stomach tremble and her knees watery?

She had to come up with something that showed her value. When the idea hit she was shocked she hadn’t thought of it before. The hotel had an attic. And with every renovation, she knew certain things had been placed there for storage. She was sure there was a trove of antiques from the original design up there. She remembered what he’d said last night about returning to a “golden age.” Rich fabrics and natural wood. If she remembered correctly, there was an old chandelier, and who knew what other treasures she’d find?

She jumped up from her chair, ignoring the open file on her desk and grabbing instead a ring of keys from the back of her desk drawer. She was just turning into the hall when she ran smack-dab into the solid wall of his chest.

“Allentare!”
He gripped her arms to steady her and she stiffened beneath his fingers. “Mari, slow down! Are you all right?”

“Let me go. I’m fine.” She shook off his hands and straightened her shoulders.

The woman was as prickly as a cactus. Luca stood back, nonplussed. She’d nearly knocked him over and now stood glaring at him like it was his fault that she’d come storming out of her office, not looking where she was going.

“I am glad to hear it.”

Her face softened just a bit. “I beg your pardon, it was my fault.”

“It doesn’t matter. I was just coming to see you.”

He watched as she slowly relaxed. First a deep breath, then her shoulders lowered and the taut lines of her face disappeared. She was wound as tight as a top. She had been last
night, too. Her cheek had been cold when he’d kissed it in greeting and the tiny touch on her wrist seemed to turn her to stone. The woman needed to deflate before she imploded.

She placed a polite smile on her lips, one he knew was put there for show and not genuine. It was a cover. But what was she covering? He’d never met a woman so uptight and rigid. He had a feeling if he said black, she’d say white just to be contrary. In that way, he thought ruefully, she wasn’t that different from his father. He held back the sigh gathering in his lungs. The Cascade was his baby. He’d demanded full authority over everything. And when it was over he’d be able to take the credit and finally step out within the company in his own right. He loved his father, he did. It didn’t mean he wanted to work under his thumb for the rest of his life. It was the one thing that kept things tense between them.

“Did you need something?”

At the sound of her voice he dragged his gaze from her lips. “Need? I heard back from the designer, Dean Shiffling.” He couldn’t keep the annoyance out of his voice. “He can’t make it until day after tomorrow. I told him we’d send a car to meet him at the airport.”

They’d taken half a dozen steps down the hall but she halted abruptly. “Luca, we don’t have a car. We have a shuttle van.”

“Fiori does not herd guests into a, what did you call it? A shuttle van.” He muttered something under his breath. There was much to be said for the old Inn, but things needed to change to bring it up to Fiori standards. “I shall look after getting us proper transportation.”

He started walking again, knowing she’d have no choice but to follow after him. Already he could see the adding machine whirring in her head, working sums. A smile played with the corners of his lips. Perhaps it was wrong, but he had to admit he enjoyed putting her off balance. It had been too long since he’d had a worthy opponent to butt heads with and
he got the feeling that Mari would be up to the challenge. It was worth it to see that firelight in her gray-blue eyes and her color rise. So much better than her icy withdrawal.

They stepped into the lobby area. “What did you want to see me about?” he asked, surveying the lobby. He looked at the floor. They’d get rid of some of those fussy carpets, polish the stone beneath. And the lighting was wrong. This lobby was comfortable but cluttered. It needed space, and light amongst the richness. Let them play off each other.

“I didn’t. You ran into me, remember?”

“Ah, yes. A happy accident indeed.” He let his eyes twinkle at her. “And you were in a spectacular rush.”

“I thought of something this morning that may come in handy during your redecorating.”

“Yes?” She had his attention.

“And you’re noticeably agitated that your designer isn’t at your beck and call within the hour.”

His eyebrow raised at that. She was going to keep him on his toes. She was correct. He’d wanted to get started right away and he was being forced to wait.

“Perhaps.”

“And people always do what you tell them.”

“Usually, yes. With a notable exception.” He aimed a pointed glare at her.

She held up a key.

She was playing with him now and it amused him as much as annoyed him. She’d never once in their meetings shown a fun side. “I’m assuming that is to a door. A door you’re going to tell me about.”

The faintest of smiles cracked her face. She looked very different when she put away that cold façade. Her eyes lightened and she seemed almost like a precocious child. Like there was more to her than fusty suits that covered as much skin as possible and prim hairstyles. He stared at the utilitarian
twist and wondered what it would look like if she let it down. If it would be soft and pliant. Like her skin. He remembered the feel of the nearly translucent skin just beneath her palm. Would the rest of her be as fragile and soft?

Now that wouldn’t be wise at all. Even if a man couldn’t help but wonder.

“I was going to check it out first, but I suppose you want to come along. It’s to the attic.”

“You’ve an attic?”

Her smile grew as she nodded. “We do. And if we find what I think is there, you’re going to be happy I thought of it. Then you can stop obsessing about getting your designer in and focus on something else.”

He ignored the barb, too excited by the idea of a treasure hunt. “Then lead on, by all means.”

They took the service elevator to the top floor. Stepping out into a windowless corridor, Mari stepped to the right toward a large double door. “This is our storage area. I remembered it this morning. Something you said last night twigged with me, about a golden age.” She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

Inside was like finding buried treasure. A film of dust covered everything: chairs, tables, desks, divans, even paintings and sculptures. A room full of potential, waiting to be rediscovered. The hotel must have been a glory in its early days, Luca thought, before someone came along and decided to change it. His eyes lit on a particularly fine tallboy. Whoever had relegated it to the attic should have been whipped. It was too fine, too valuable, to be hidden away in an airless, forgotten room.

“Dear God.” Luca stepped inside. There was little order to it, but he knew already she’d uncovered a gold mine. Excitement drummed in his veins. He wasn’t changing the hotel at all. He was restoring it. The idea thrilled him. He enjoyed the creating part of his job so much more than the management.
It was a large reason why he wanted to step out of his father’s shadow. “Why are these things not displayed?”

“I can only assume that renovations over the years have relegated them to the bench.”

“The bench?”

“You know, when sports players aren’t on the field. They’re benched.”

“Right.” He stepped around an old rolltop desk, a layer of dust hiding what he knew would be a gleaming walnut finish. “Feel it, Mari. There’s history in this room. So much history.” If only Dean could be here sooner. They’d take an inventory and choose which pieces would be used in the decoration. Luca wanted to start right now.

But perhaps now was the time to explore.

He looked over at Mari. Prickly as thorns, but he could tell she was enjoying this. It was in the way her eyes lit up, or her fingers daintily touched the back of a tufted chair. She was picking her way to the far right, stepping gingerly and careful not to disturb the dust. She was a careful one, he was coming to understand. Always a deliberate move. Always a purpose. He wondered why. What had made her so cautious, when it was clear that inside she had vision fighting to get out?

“Here it is.”

He gave a plush wine velvet divan a longing look as he passed by, making his way to her. Only to find her standing beside a huge gilt and crystal chandelier that had been hidden by two armoires.

“It’s seen better days. But I thought I remembered it here.”

Luca reached out and touched a large teardrop shaped crystal, sending it tinkling against identical drops. “It’s stunning. It’s perfect.”

“It
is
lovely.”

Luca looked up at her. Ah, so the chandelier’s magic wasn’t all lost on her. The wistful turn of her lips told him so. A
tendril of hair had come loose from her ever-present bun and kissed her cheek. She looked up at him and their eyes met, held. He could already picture the chandelier gracing the ballroom, the shots of light glancing off the crystals on to the gleaming floor and polished wood. Could picture Mari in the middle of it, slim and elegant in a golden evening dress, smiling at him. She was, he realized, cool class and grace. Timeless. His ingénue.