Resisting the Sicilian Playboy. Amanda Cinelli
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think that would be appropriate, Mr Valente.’ She pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear, feeling more than a little self-conscious under his gaze.
‘Mr Valente was my father—you can call me Leo.’ He smiled. ‘What business could be so important that it can’t wait until Monday morning?’
Dara spied her chance to turn the conversation. ‘My condolences on your father’s recent passing. I understand the funeral was held at your castello in Ragusa?’
‘So I’ve been told.’ He shrugged. ‘People die every day, Miss Devlin. I prefer to focus on more enjoyable pursuits.’
Even after bringing up the subject of his father, the man was still flirting with her. He really was a complete playboy. She decided a more direct approach was definitely needed.
‘The castello is a beautiful piece of history. It’s such a shame that it lies dormant most of the time.’
‘Why do I get the feeling this is more than idle chit-chat?’ He narrowed his gaze, all trace of flirtation gone.
‘Well, you see, it’s part of the reason that I’m here.’ Feeling a sense of foreboding, she powered on. ‘I’m here to propose a deal for Castello Bellamo that I feel you will benefit greatly from.’
She blurted it out as confidently as she could and felt the swell of victory as he froze in place. The playful charmer seemed to disappear before her eyes, his expression taking on a detached hardness.
He met her eyes, a single muscle ticking on his jaw. When he spoke his voice was somehow deeper than before, his accent more pronounced. ‘Well, it seems you have wasted both your time and mine tonight. I’ll tell you the same thing that I have told every other vulture that has approached me since my father’s death. The castle is not for sale.’
Dara shook her head, desperate for him to understand. ‘I don’t want to buy it—I want to hold a wedding there. I’m sure that we can come to some sort of—’
A flick of his hand cut her off mid-sentence. ‘I don’t care if you want to use it to house blind orphans. The matter is not open for discussion.’
‘I understand that the castello has been left in disrepair for some time now—’
‘It can stay that way, for all I care. Contrary to what people may think, these little games don’t work for me—no matter how pretty the messenger is.’ His eyes raked down to her heels, taking in every inch of her body with an exaggerated slowness before meeting her eyes once more.
‘This conversation is over,’ he gritted. ‘I’ll have someone sent up to escort you out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a party to attend to.’
Without another word he strode from the room, leaving Dara to stare after him in disbelief.
That had been a rather dramatic turn of events. She knew his father had died recently, and it had been tactless of her to use it as part of her argument. But what other choice did she have? The most lucrative wedding contract of her career was within touching distance and she had personally promised the bride Castello Bellamo. If she failed to deliver she could say goodbye to her miraculous gateway into society weddings. Her name would be worthless.
She was not going to be ruined without a fight.
* * *
Leo slid in behind the bar of the empty upper mezzanine of the club and waved off the young barmaid with an impatient hand. Taking down a bottle of aged whisky, he poured himself a generous glass and let the amber liquid burn down his throat in one fluid movement.
Blondie had caught him by surprise—there was no doubting that. Beautiful women were not a rarity in his world—supermodels and socialites lined up to be seen on his arm—but there had been something about that determined grey gaze that had sparked his interest in a way no woman had for months now.
No one had dared speak to him of his father since his death had been worldwide news. But to start with that and then make a move for the castle... He took another swig of whisky, a harsh bark of laughter escaping his throat. She definitely had nerve—he’d give her that.
As his temper slowly calmed he realised he was no longer alone in the private bar. Miss Devlin had come to a stop on the other side of the counter.
‘Just so we’re clear: I am not a messenger and I don’t play games. Ever.’
She was angry, and it was a sight to behold.
‘Never? You keep shattering my fantasies tonight, Miss Devlin.’ Leo took in the crisp white shirt she wore, the outline of a lacy white bra barely visible at the front. His knuckles tensed on the glass in his hand as heat rushed through his veins. Damn, it had been way too long if the sight of a bra was arousing him.
‘Do you take anything seriously, Mr Valente?’
She rolled her eyes, checking the time on her watch in a gesture of boredom. But Leo could see the hint of a flush high on her cheekbones. She wasn’t as unaffected by him as she pretended to be.
He stepped forward, bracing his hands on the bar between them. ‘Believe me, there are certain things I can take very seriously.’ He let his eyes linger on her lips for a moment and smiled when she self-consciously took a step back. ‘Look around you, Miss Devlin. I opened this club ten years ago. I now own one in every major city in the world, so you can see that I take the business of pleasure very seriously.’
‘I’m here to talk about my proposal—not about pleasure.’ She shook her head.
‘A pity. I can tell that we would communicate very well on that subject.’ He watched as heat flushed across her chest.
She laid her bag down forcefully on the counter. ‘Are you always this forward?’ Her voice was somehow calm and furious at the same time.
Damn it, but she was right. He was behaving like a caveman. What was it about this woman that set his teeth on edge? She was prickly, and direct, and sexy as hell. But she was here to talk about the one thing he was determined to ignore.
‘You seem to have caught me off-guard. Having an unarmed woman bypass a million-euro security system will do that to a man.’
‘If I were a man would you be any less impressed, I wonder?’ She stood tall, meeting his gaze evenly.
Leo laughed, offering her a glass of whisky. ‘You are refreshing, Dara. Consider this a peace offering for my inappropriate behaviour.’
‘Thank you.’
She took the glass with both hands, holding it close to breathe in the aroma. It was a ridiculously feminine gesture.
Leo watched her for a moment, downing the rest of his drink in one go. ‘You know, considering your position, I wonder how I have come to be the one apologising.’
‘I can be very persuasive.’ She smiled and took a sip of whisky, making a delicate little hum of approval.
Leo felt his blood pump a little faster. ‘Something we both have in common.’
He stepped out from behind the bar, taking in her polite business suit once more. She was a walking contradiction, this one. All delicate and businesslike on the outside, but with the guts to scale a building in a skirt and heels. He wondered why he hadn’t thrown her out yet.
She placed her glass down, turning to face him head-on with calm determination in the set of her shoulders. ‘I will be leaving for Sicily in the morning. I’m asking you please to just consider my proposal.’
‘You just broke the law and you expect me to do business with you?’
‘I am asking you to at least give me a chance.’ Her voice remained steady, with not a trace of remorse for tonight’s actions.
‘Do you honestly expect me to let you use a seven-hundred-year-old castle for a glorified circus?’
‘Firstly,