by Joan Kilby
His fizz of enjoyment bubbled higher. What if he gave her what she thought she wanted? Oh, not the nooner at her place but something much bigger. And farther afield.
She blinked first in their staring contest. “We’re wasting time.”
“Ah, now that is something I never do.” Rubbing his hands together, he buzzed Anna on the intercom and told her he was going out for a couple of hours. Then he placed a call to his helicopter pilot, on standby to fly anywhere in Europe at a moment’s notice. Luckily Layla didn’t speak Italian so she wouldn’t be forewarned.
“Let’s get out of here.” He smiled to himself as he reached for her hand and pulled her toward the exit into his private stairwell. He couldn’t wait to see her face when she found out what he had in store for her.
Bypassing the elevator, he opened the door to the roof and stepped onto a concrete platform high above the city.
Layla’s hair blew around her face from the breeze of the helicopter rotors. She planted her feet, resisting his tug. “Hey, what’s going on? Why the whirlybird?”
“I’m taking you to lunch—on my yacht in Naples.” His blood raced with the unexpected bid for freedom and the added unpredictability of this woman. He felt a surge of triumph at surprising her for once. “You said you wanted to go.”
Eyes wide, she pushed her flying hair back. “I-I can’t.”
“Give me one good reason,” he yelled over the thwap, thwap of the rotors.
“I-I ordered food,” she yelled back. “The caterer is probably on my doorstep right now.”
“You can text them from the helicopter and cancel. I’ll cover any costs.” He towed her toward the helicopter.
She stumbled along after him, ducking beneath the whirling blades, trying to keep her skirt from flying up. “I’ve got an appointment.”
“Won’t wash. You already told me you had nothing scheduled this afternoon.”
“What about your conference call?” There was a note of desperation in her voice now.
“No problem. I have an office aboard the yacht.”
”Well, then…I’m not dressed for a yacht.” She indicated her spiked high heels.
He halted at the struts where the pilot had positioned a block of steps. “The ship is fully stocked with spare clothes and bathing suits.”
“Um…” She bit her lip, brow furrowed.
Giorgio waited impatiently for her next flimsy excuse. Something was definitely going on. She’d just met with Tina that morning. Tina wanted something from him too. “Did you by any chance invite anyone else to lunch?” he inquired silkily.
Layla swallowed. “N-no. Of course not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“No problem.” She found a smile but it looked strained. “This will be awesome.”
“In you go.” He handed her up the steps and into one of the passenger seats behind the pilot. Then he climbed in after her.
He was disappointed that she was trying to lure him into a trap with the promise of sexual favors. His ego was pricked that she wasn’t trying to bed him for his own sake. No matter. Taking her to the yacht would get her away from Tina. And if by chance they did end up in bed, he would use her as she was using him.
Chapter Five
Layla eyed Giorgio surreptitiously as he passed her a headset and adjusted the channel so they could talk comfortably. He was looking mighty pleased with himself. Had he guessed she was going to ambush him and countered with a hijacking? His sisters should have known he was too smart to fall for such a simple ruse. Damn it, what now?
In the front seat, the pilot was doing his final check of the controls. Giorgio reached above her head to pull down the seatbelt that crossed over her shoulders.
She tried to bat his hands away but he had the buckle in the slot before she could stop him. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend if you’re always this highhanded.”
“I’m taking you to a luxury yacht on the Mediterranean for a sumptuous meal,“ he said, fastening his own seatbelt. “Most women would call that thrilling.”
“In America we call it kidnapping,” she snapped.
“I didn’t force you into the helicopter.” His dark eyes sparkled with Machiavellian mischief. “And you said you wanted to go see Naples. I’m obliging you. Am I to take it you were lying?”
She made a huffing sound to cover that very fact. “I thought you couldn’t take time off. You were balking at lunch in Rome. Now we’re on our way out of the city.”
“As you pointed out, I’m the boss,” he said, unperturbed. “I do as I please.”
And just what did that autocratic tone imply? She wagged a finger. “Don’t think for a moment anything’s going to happen between you and me on the yacht because it won’t.”
His sexy smile deepened. A thrill right ran through her. Don’t listen to what I say. Fuck me now.
“Oh, like nothing was going to happen at your villa?” he said. “You gave me the distinct impression you had something planned for me. Why don’t you tell me what that was? We could recreate your scenario on the yacht.”
An image of him naked and chained to her bed with velvet handcuffs sprang into her mind. She felt her cheeks heat. “Nothing like what you’re thinking.”
“Right,” he said. Her spluttered protest withered beneath his knowing gaze.
Layla crossed her arms and turned away. She could hardly tell him what had really been on the menu at her villa. Damn it, she didn’t use her body to get what she wanted. If she slept with him—and that was highly unlikely—it would be because she wanted him. And she did want him but that was purely physical, a response to his hot body, Latin good looks, and hint of a tortured past. And paradoxically, his air of authority. Whoever said power was an aphrodisiac was right. Fortunately, her brain was in charge, not her hormones.
“Excuse me,” Giorgio said, getting out his phone. “I need to alert the captain of the yacht to our arrival.”
“I’d better text the catering company.” She angled her body to hide her phone from his view and tapped in a message to Tina. He’s suspicious. Taking me to the yacht for lunch instead. Plan B?
She hit send and put her phone away just as he finished his texting. Then her stomach dropped to the soles of her high heels as the helicopter lifted off. She looked out the curved Plexiglas window at the tiled roofs of Rome receding below.
She was going to a yacht off Naples. How awesome was that? “How long does it take to get there?”
“An hour and a half, roughly.” He watched her closely. “No problem with the catering company?”
“Nope.” She glanced past him and gasped in amazement as the aircraft swung south across the ancient city dotted with Roman ruins. “Is that the Coliseum?”
“Yes, and those pillars beyond it is the Forum,” Giorgio said. “Haven’t you been to see the sights of Rome?”
“I haven’t had time.” She craned her neck trying to pick out the round dome of the Pantheon.
“Then you’ll enjoy an excursion,” Giorgio said.
He was daring her to deny it. He knew there was someplace else she needed to be. Needed him to be. Better to beard the lion than sit here worrying about what he was thinking. She met his gaze head on. “Are you doing this to get me away from Tina?”
His eyes glittered. Instead of answering, he posed a question of his own. “Are you conspiring with my sister against me?”
“Why would I?” She made her eyes wide. “Whatever problem you have with your sister, I’m an innocent bystander.”
“Not so innocent.” His gaze dropped slowly, taking in her low-cut dress and her bare thigh where her skirt had ridden up. She squirmed at the tingle between her legs and in her peaking nipples. She could hardly blame him for thinking she’d planned to seduce him because that’s what she’d intended him to think.
His long, strong fingers curved around her cheek. In the enclosed cabin, the headset magnified the sound of her heartbeat. Slowly, holding her gaze, he bent his h
ead toward her mouth. She meant to push him away, she really did. But his spicy scent was making her lightheaded. Suddenly she had to know how his lips felt on hers. What he tasted like, feel the moist heat of his tongue…
Just as she was about to slide a hand into his silky black hair to pull him closer, he withdrew, leaving her winded and at a loss. With an enigmatic smile, he lightly stroked the back of his hand down her neck and brushed the swell of her breast. Then he turned away.
The message was crystal clear and carried a warning. Don’t mess with me. I’m in charge.
She sat back and let her heart rate slow and her breathing return to normal. She was in his helicopter, on her way to his yacht. He was fully in control of the situation, which she hated even though it also tantalized her. But while he might suspect her of scheming against him with his sisters it was vital that he never be certain she was in on the plot.
His phone rang. He glanced at caller ID and his jaw tightened but he swiped it on. “Ciao, Anna.” He listened for a moment and then launched into a stream of Italian, broken by Anna’s agitated interjections, that even Layla could hear. The hand not holding the phone was in constant motion. His long, strong, fingers spoke a language all their own, punctuating his speech with eloquence and energy. The words poured out, fluent and liquid, with rolling r’s and musical vowels.
Giorgio’s leg vibrated with the steady thrum of energy he could never seem to quite tamp down. A pulse beat at the base of his neck, just visible through the open V of his shirt. Everything about him was hot, from his long legs encased in tight jeans to the arrogant tilt of his head. Watching him speak drew her attention to how beautiful his mouth was. Full and firm and sexy with sharply defined curves and angles.
Made for kissing.
She pushed that thought out of her mind and watched the landscape unfold below her. The city gave way to towns interspersed with vineyards, fields of sunflowers, and green pastures dotted with livestock. Giorgio finished his call to Anna and made others, keeping busy as the time slid past.
Over an hour into the flight her phone trilled, signaling an incoming message from Tina. Finally.
Keep him on the yacht. It’s his birthday on Sunday. We’ll all come down then.
Two days! How the hell was she supposed to stop him from going back to Rome once he decided he was finished with her? Tina vastly overestimated her influence on her brother.
Giorgio closed his conversation with a sharp, “Ciao,” and snapped off the phone. Seeing her looking at her screen, he said, “Everything okay?”
“Just my agent, Renaldo, letting me know an appointment tomorrow was canceled.” She tucked her phone in her purse and smiled brightly. “I’m at a loose end, completely free for the next few days.” She waited for his response, her breath tight in her chest.
Instead of replying he gave her a cynical, assessing glance. Then his gaze shifted and he nodded to the window. “We’re almost there.”
Naples glittered in the brilliant sunshine, curving around a wide bay. Offshore was the jewel of the Mediterranean, the fabled Isle of Capri. Further south stretched the dramatic Amalfi coast, steep cliffs bordered with tiny beaches lapped by the deep blue of the sea.
Again, the surreal nature of where she was going jumped up and slapped her in the face. She was spending the afternoon on a yacht—and hopefully longer—with a gorgeous Italian who just happened to be a billionaire.
Yeah, he could be an arrogant pain in the butt. And yes, she had a lot to worry about trying to keep him on the yacht, but what the hell, she was going to have fun doing it. She would find out what made him tick and how to make him crazy for her. She would take what he had to offer then leave, hopefully clutching a contract with the House of Borlenghi in her hot little hand.
As for Giorgio being in charge? She would just see about that.
The helicopter began its descent to the seventy-five foot motor launch anchored offshore in Naples Bay. Giorgio’s heart swelled as the gleaming white hull of Bella Sirena grew larger and larger. Here was his linden tree, his simple pleasure.
The pilot communicated with the captain, and as they approached, white uniformed seamen ran to their stations on deck. The helicopter touched down on the pad on the top deck and the pilot cut the engine. A sailor ran forward to position the steps and Giorgio helped Layla down from the copter.
“This is amazing.” Her veneer of nonchalance dropped away as she tried to take it all in at once, her blue eyes wide with wonder. From her viewpoint, the three decks in brilliant white with blue trim and polished brass fittings were no doubt impressive.
Twenty-four uniformed crewmen lined up at attention as Giorgio and Layla walked aft to the main cabin. He nodded to a couple of sailors he recognized. How long had it been since he’d been on the yacht? Too long, if most of the crew had turned over since then. He’d forgotten how enjoyable he found the tang of the salt air, the warm, gentle breeze, and the sparkling azure water and crystalline blue sky.
On the after deck, Captain Luigi Pampano, with hair more silver than Giorgio remembered, waited to greet them. He bowed with a click of his heels. “Welcome, Signor Borlenghi. Signora.”
Giorgio embraced him heartily. Luigi had been captain since he was a boy. “This is Layla Langham from America. She’s visiting Rome for fashion week.”
“Welcome, Signora Langham,” Luigi said in perfect English. “I hope you enjoy your stay aboard the Bella Sirena.”
“Giorgio! It’s so good to see you.” A special woman he’d known since childhood, also wearing nautical navy blue, emerged from the main cabin.
“Ah, Sonia. Yes, it’s been too long.” He kissed her on both cheeks. “Layla, this is Luigi’s wife and our Chief Steward, Sonia Pampano.”
“It’s nice to meet you both.” Layla held out her hand to shake and was instead emphatically kissed on both cheeks by first Sonia then Luigi. She glanced at Giorgio with a delighted laugh.
He couldn’t help but return her smile. Now that he’d brought her here, what was he going to do with her? Getting her away from Rome had been his primary objective, but he hadn’t thought beyond botching her scheme—whatever it was—and removing her from Tina’s influence.
“…I’ll show you to your stateroom,” Sonia was saying to Layla as she led her inside. “After you refresh yourself, drinks will be served on the after deck while we get under way. Lunch will be served at 0100 hours.”
Giorgio thrust the problem of Layla aside to brief Luigi. “I have an important teleconference in a couple of hours. I’ll take the call on board.”
Captain Pampano nodded. They walked together into the main cabin where they paused before parting—Luigi to go up to the bridge, and Giorgio along the passage to the staterooms. “It’s good to see you again, Signor. You’ve stayed away too long.”
“This is only a short visit, I’m afraid. Just for the afternoon.” Or was he fooling himself? Had this impulsive flight been just an excuse to spend time with Layla? She’d hinted that she’d like to stay longer. He was tempted to explore the undeniable attraction between them, to plunder the plump softness of her lips…
Even if those same lips had lied to him? His jaw tightened. Teaching her a lesson held undeniable appeal.
“That’s a pity, sir,” Luigi said. “Naples is playing a home game tonight with Real Madrid.”
“Really?“ Giorgio brightened. “The teams are neck and neck. It will be a great game and close. Who is striker?”
“Vincenzo Morelli. He’s had an excellent season so far.” They talked football for a few more minutes, then Luigi said, “Before I forget. Signora Tina called this morning, not long after you did. She and her friend Fabio are coming down on Sunday. She hoped you would stay ’til she arrived.”
“That’s unlikely but of course she’s free to use the yacht whenever she wishes,” Giorgio said. Why would she make plans to come here on his birthday if she didn’t think he was going to be here? Birthdays were special, family occasions. And why would she b
ring that interloping jerk, Fabio? He needed to talk to her. “I’ll see you later.”
He went below to his on board office. He quickly checked in with Anna and confirmed that she had the correct Skype number for the yacht.
“Chang Lee’s assistant called,” Anna told him. “Chang will personally fly to Rome next week to sign the documents once you two sort out the last of the problem areas today.”
“What about Dagostini?” Giorgio said. “Did he return my call?”
“His office faxed through a revised set of shipping charges should your deal with the Chinese go through,” Anna said. “They’re increasing by ten percent.”
Giorgio cursed. Another sticky point to smooth over with Chang. “Fine, thank you, Anna. I’ll be in touch again after the teleconference.”
After he hung up, he took a moment to text a message to his friend, Rocco, wishing him and his team good luck in tonight’s match. Then he tried Tina, but her phone went straight to voice mail. Finally, he did what he should have done weeks ago—made a call to a private investigator and put a tail on Fabio.
The master stateroom had been prepared for him with fresh flowers and fruit. As he changed into more suitable yachting attire, a white linen shirt and navy shorts, his thoughts turned again to Layla. At their first meeting she’d been wearing a bikini. He vividly recalled her breasts and shapely legs. He even more vividly remembered the feel of her skin and her spicy, floral scent. Perhaps he would make time for a swim—or something—before they left.
Then he frowned. Those texts she’d received on the flight—were they really from her agent or were they from his sister? If so, what could Layla possibly hope to achieve? He’d made his position perfectly clear. When it came right down to it, Tina wouldn’t go against his wishes. Even if she tried to, Layla would be a fool to sign a contract that wouldn’t stand up to his legal team.
This afternoon, he would figure out what Layla wanted from him. And decide what he would do with her.
