“you may go in now, Ms. Conte.”
Julietta smiled and grabbed her Pineider briefcase. She was led down a short hallway to a heavily carved cherry-wood door. She reached for the knob, but the door swung open without a sound. A shiver raced down her spine, and she hesitated. odd—she felt that if she crossed the threshold, her life would never be the same. Almost like being invited into a haunted house by the owner, who craved your soul.
“Come in.”
The husky drawl whispered against her ears. She took the necessary three steps in. The door swung closed sound-lessly behind her.
Her hands clenched around her briefcase. What was wrong with her? Usually she dominated a meeting from the first moment, but she stood rooted to the floor staring across the room at one of the most powerfully sexual men she’d ever seen in her life.
No wonder his receptionist was a grandmotherly type.
There wasn’t a woman alive who could work for him without getting tongue-tied and stumbling over herself in an effort to please him. His inner sanctum was decorated in dark wood, wine reds, and rich gold trims. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves took up the wall behind him with endless leather spines amidst odd figures and sculptures in vari-ous materials. Smooth marble, gleaming silver, twisted copper. The left wall was painted red and displayed an assortment of art with an erotic flavor. She longed to study the artwork closer but tucked that information to the back of her mind for future reference. His sprawling cherry desk took up half the room in an effort to intimi-date. His chair must have been elevated for a dominating visual impression, because there was no way a man could be that tall. Perched on his red leather throne, he studied her with an assessing air that stripped her of niceties and social barriers, somehow leaving her bare. exposed. And a bit vulnerable.
His wavy blond hair held so many shades of color, the light danced and played on the strands as if lighting up a halo. That halo brushed his shoulders and tempted a woman to twist her fingers in its length as he ravaged her.
She catalogued his features in an itemized list: Gracefully curved brows. High, defined cheekbones. Strong chin with a bit of a cleft. An angel or God himself must have given him those eyes, because they seemed almost pure gold, splinter-ing radiance and piercing past the surface straight to the core. As stunning as hidden treasure, those eyes saw things no woman wanted revealed. Julietta bet most females had little choice in the matter. This man took what he wanted and how he wanted without apology.
Then the angels shot screaming up to heaven and aban-doned him to hell.
His mouth was a carved, sensual feast with a wicked sneer that spoke of hot sex and no rules. A brutal scar took up the right side of his face, hooking from brow to chin. The line was clean. She imagined the slice of blade as it tore open skin, and she tried not to show any sympathy. This man didn’t need it.
The hard twist of good and bad played to women like the Pied Piper. A cold awareness rippled her nerve endings.
Good thing men didn’t affect her. She’d be burnt toast before they even negotiated on whatever the damn meeting was about. Julietta straightened her shoulders and met his gaze head-on. “Good morning, Mr. Wells. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She closed the distance between them and stuck out her hand. He stood and grasped her hand in his. The hand-shake was impersonal while being too intimate. His skin was warm and rough to the touch, and he engulfed her hand as if claiming her body on his own terms.
Startled at her bizarre thoughts, she withdrew first and didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath. Those gorgeous lips curved upward in a half smile. She didn’t know if he was amused or pleased. either way pissed her off. Julietta immediately sensed the man was accustomed to winning.
Comfortable in his own skin. And entertained by mankind, as if humans on a stage put on a show in which he refused to partake. Hmm. She needed to go on the offense quickly.
Defense would bore him to tears and get her nowhere.
Julietta took a seat, crossed her legs, and settled back in the chair with a relaxed sense of camaraderie she didn’t feel.
“I see you like games.”
He cocked his head. The flare of surprise soothed her temper. “Depends on the game.”
She offered a cool smile. “Chess.” She pointed to the beautifully carved figures of a king and queen flanking a shelf of impressive leather books. The carved ivory and ebony pieces held exquisite detail and bespoke a man interested in mental challenges. “They’re quite beautiful.”
Sawyer rested his elbows on the polished surface and steepled his fingers. She refused to cower under his stare that threatened to shred the surface. When he finally spoke, his deep voice cloaked and stroked dark places she didn’t realize she owned. “Do you play?”
“No.”
“Why?”
She spoke in a clipped voice. “Games don’t interest me.
I prefer a straightforward exchange of information for mu-tual benefit.”
He quirked a golden brow. “yet you are the Ceo of a powerful company. Surely you must acknowledge there must always be a winner and a loser.”
Ah, yes, he loved to spar. A deep satisfaction hummed through her. How rare to be able to match wits with a man who was completely unafraid. Most cowered under her chilly words or blustered like idiots to get a point across. No, she preferred a subtle wit as fine and sharp as a samurai’s sword. She danced just out of his reach with her answer. “If you do your job well enough, your opponent won’t even realize he’s lost.”
“I disagree. If your opponent is worthy, he will always face the truth that one party tops another. The queen must be stolen in order to win all.”
She clicked open her briefcase as if bored now by the turn of conversation. The ruffle of papers cut through the pulsing silence, and she realized her palms were damp.
How odd. Not nerves. Something else she couldn’t quite pin down. “Queens may be sacrificed. She’s the power player, but it all rests on the king. With a smart enough backup plan, the queen doesn’t have to destroy the entire board.”
His eyes darkened. oh, yeah, no way could a woman work for this man. He should be the poster board image of what to avoid in teenage pregnancy. The balance between light and dark was just enough to tempt a female to jump over the edge of reason, no matter how hard the recovery from the fall. Fortunately, Julietta despised heights and avoided them at all costs. “I thought you didn’t play chess,”
he murmured.
“I don’t.” She raised her chin. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t study the rules. Just in case.”
His low laugh slid through the room and stroked between her legs. She acknowledged her body’s physical reaction even as her mind remained detached. “you are a fascinating woman, Julietta Conte.” His tongue rolled over her name and gave it a whole new meaning. Normally she cringed in the boardroom at the mention of her birth name.
Too many men used romance and intimacy to demean women in business. But Sawyer combined respect with a leashed sensuality, keeping her off-balance. “I’m glad I followed my instincts to give you the first opportunity to work for me.”
She closed her briefcase and settled it back on the floor, then thumbed through the file in a deliberate power play.
“While I appreciate being first in line, I would have preferred knowing the details of the offer. I do hate wasting my morning on a deal not worthy of my time. I’m sure you understand, Mr. Wells.”
“Sawyer.” He rested his chin on his fingers. “After all, I already met most of your family. Am good friends with your brother-in-law. The least we can do is be on a first-name basis.”
“Fine.”
“Say it.”
She looked up. “excuse me?”
An odd tension stretched between them, as if a pre-liminary game was being played, and she didn’t know the stakes. “My name,” he instructed softly. “Say it.”
Julietta blinked. Warmth flooded her body and made her skin itch. Her tummy dropped, then settled. She didn’t want to and opened her mouth to gloss over the whole weird exchange, but found herself responding to his command. “Sawyer.”
His name stumbled across her lips and she cursed herself for the move. Satisfaction and something deeper flickered over his face, but he only nodded in approval. “Thank you.”
She cleared her throat and refocused on the file. “Now that we’re properly acquainted, I’d appreciate moving forward. It seems your reputation precedes you.”
“In a good way, I hope,” he drawled.
“Mostly.”
Another short laugh. “you are quite different from any-one else in your family.”
She ignored the throbbing wound and managed a tight smile. “In a good way I hope.”
He frowned and leaned a bit closer. “Did that comment bother you? I only meant your focus proved an asset for Michael. your sisters weren’t meant to take over the family business. everyone is lucky to have you.”
The wound softened to a slight bruise. Why did he seem so concerned about upsetting her? As if he held the ability to poke at her secret insecurities without the drive to expose and hurt? As if he just wanted to know.
“of course I’m not bothered. I consider myself lucky to run La Dolce Famiglia. I don’t think I realized you had met most of my family.”
The harsh lines of his face softened into affection. “Max and I ran in the same circles and we became close. He’s told me about Venezia, and I was lucky enough to meet Carina in Vegas last year. I attended their wedding.”
The memory of her sister’s quick nuptials flickered past.
She hadn’t had the time to fly in and had always regret-ted not being there. Mama was the only one in the family able to witness the exchange, but the idea of Sawyer seeing such an intimate ceremony bothered her. “Interesting,” she murmured. “And my mother?”
All expression smoothed out to a blank canvas. “I had the pleasure of meeting your mother many years ago. I respect her greatly.”
There was a story behind his words, but she figured he was a master at secrets. Julietta motioned to the manila folder in her lap. “It seems you have the advantage. My research began when you started taking over hotels and transforming them into profitable entities. There’s no mention of family, birthplace, or anything else. Almost as if your life before twenty-three never existed.”
The darkness flared and swallowed up the light in his whiskey eyes. Her breath hitched at the rage and raw pain she saw, and just as quickly the emotions were gone from his face. “It didn’t,” he said. “That will have to be enough for you.”
Julietta respected his demons. After all, she hid her own.
Slowly, she nodded. “That’s enough for me.”
He smiled. His teeth were dazzling white but crooked slightly in the front, which kept him from looking pretty.
“Good. Let’s talk business. I have a proposition for you. A merger of sorts.”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and didn’t respond. He seemed intrigued with her control and pa-tience. Julietta wondered what type of women he was used to dealing with in his world. “I’m about to unveil a chain of my own signature luxury hotels. For the past few years, I’ve bought property in prime locations in main cities throughout europe and the United States. The plan is ambitious and begins with hotels opening up in Milan, rome, Venice, and Florence. I’ll move into england with three locations including London. Then the United States, where I’ll build in New york, LA, and Chicago.”
