Seducing the Tycoon (International Temptation) Read online

  He jerked his chin in the direction of the police, then grabbed their shoes. “Run!” Dodging a few tourists, he pulled her behind him. “Come on. Don’t stop.”

  “Drago, wait.”

  “No time.” The police were caught up in the rush of tourists ready to catch a view of the commotion. He yanked her along the sidewalk, skirting benches, zigzagging around crowds of people. One thing on their side was the popularity of Rome.

  Concerned, he glanced back at her, but her eyes were bright as they connected with his. Then she laughed—the kind of laugh that was so lost in delight that anyone in hearing distance would be susceptible to catching it.

  His own bubbled in his chest. “You’re crazy.”

  Once he was sure they were out of harm’s way, he swung her around in front of him and dropped their shoes to the ground. Pulling her to him, he pressed a kiss to her smiling lips.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with thorough enthusiasm. “Let’s do that again,” she whispered against his mouth.

  He wished they could. And for the first time in his life, he yearned for something permanent—with her. He’d fly her to Rome every weekend and kiss in the fountain just to see that smile on her face, to feel her in his arms.

  “I always knew an American would be my downfall.”

  She grinned. “Do we have to go back?” she asked, slamming him back to reality.

  He pulled back slightly, holding her by the arms. “I need an update on our accountant.” He snapped his mouth shut.

  Chase drew her brows together. “What do you mean? Your accountant?”

  He jerked his chin. “Never mind.”

  “Drago. Tell me.”

  He studied the way the sun glinted off her hair, how the heat put a flush in her cheeks and the sun seemed to color her before his eyes like a paintbrush. He trusted her. And that hadn’t come easy. She’d never hurt Nonna. “This must remain between us.”

  “Of course.” Her eyes widened, and she reached for his hand. “What is it?”

  “Our accountant embezzled the inn’s money and is now hiding in Taiwan. That’s part of why the inn won’t survive opening alongside Huntington House. The funds we’d have fallen back on are gone.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Oh, I had no idea. Nonna’s always so positive and strong.” She bit her lip with a small shake of her head. “What’re you going to do?”

  “I’m working with a private investigator, but there’s no way it’ll be resolved in time. Actually, there’s no guarantee it’ll be resolved at all.”

  Tears welled in Chase’s eyes, but she pulled in a breath and blinked before they fell. “And Nonna? What’ll she do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m scheduled to leave town by the middle of next month. I can take care of her financially, but I don’t know how long she’ll survive without the inn.” Shame swelled in his chest.

  Chase dipped her chin. “That’s my worry, too. It’s her whole life. Her family. What do your brothers say?”

  He winced. “They don’t know. It’s my responsibility, and nothing they can do will change what Diego has done. And Nonna won’t take any money. I tried.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man. Family’s important.”

  He studied her face for any false concern. Family was important, and it was part of Chase’s dream, which frustrated him in a peculiar way. If she understood how important it was, how could she still allow Huntington House to destroy the inn? Because in the end, the bottom line was never people, not even family. It was the almighty dollar—or power. And with Chase’s success, she’d get both. As much as she might believe it, she couldn’t be bound to the idea of family any more than he was.

  Pushing the dark thoughts away, he released her hand. “Enough of that. You have an opening to finish planning for.”

  With a frown, she studied him as she slid on her shoes. “And what do you have?”

  That was the question, wasn’t it? At one time, he thought he had the world at his feet, but after being back in Ferrara, he was beginning to see he didn’t even have his own hometown. “Your outfit’s ruined.”

  Grinning, she looked down at her soaked pant legs, then shrugged. “I got kissed in the Trevi Fountain by an incredibly sexy Italian and chased through Rome by the police. I think I can handle it.”

  He flashed her a smile and reached for her hand. “Come. I promised to get you back by lunch.”

  They flew back in companionable silence. He’d give his portfolio to know what she was thinking, but he refused to ask, because what he wouldn’t give were his own thoughts.

  He’d never fly in his jet again without drowning in the memories of her and Rome. He’d had plenty of women on this plane, but couldn’t recall one face, one name. Nothing but mangoes and cocoa butter, dark eyes and darker hair, and skin softer than velvet. Minchia.

  After dropping her off at the Huntington House, he released his driver and headed toward the city center on foot. After being with Chase, his urgency to fix his mess intensified. He couldn’t be responsible for destroying her dreams. The look in her eyes would be the first he’d find difficult to meet across the table. He’d never be able to give her the commitment she sought, but he could make sure she got back to Malibu and her hotel.

  But his first stop had to do with Nonna. Rounding a corner, he barely missed a bicyclist. “Cazzo.” He spun away, his heart slammed against his ribs. If he didn’t get his head on straight, he wouldn’t survive until the openings.

  His phone vibrated in his suit pocket, and he forced himself to slow down and focus. Swiping through to the main screen, he tapped on a text from the detective.

  A nibble, but no bite.

  Drago wanted to throw his phone. Diego wasn’t moving on the investment front. If only Nonna would agree to take his money. It was situations like this one that made him wish family worked more like a business, where he could just buy what he wanted.

  This time, he’d have to earn it as Drago instead of the Dragon.

  But how in the hell was he supposed do that?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chase glanced over her list of candidates for director of operations of Huntington House one more time, distracted by thoughts of Rome and steamy showers. “Daddy, I just don’t think there’s a good fit here.”

  On a pad next to the computer, she marked off a few more boxes. Wifi was in; the rest of the chrome faucets had been installed. Check and check. She chewed on her bottom lip. Right now instead of wifi, Nonna would be confirming a period piece for authenticity, and instead of installing monochromatic tile mosaics, she’d be hanging oil paintings of ancestors from over a hundred years ago.

  Her father laughed, and she glanced back to the computer screen. “What’s so funny?”

  “Some of those candidates are more qualified than you, Coconut, yet you’re working this job so you can run a hotel three times the size of Huntington House.”

  Her chest tightened. “I’m more than qualified and you know it. I’ve been practically running hotels since before I could walk.”

  “Yes, you have. Our hotels. You’ve never branched out on your own, and that’s okay.” He threw his hands up. “I’m not saying you haven’t earned it, I’m saying there’s something to be said for those who’ve worked for multiple establishments, multiple cultures. These applicants have that, which is why you narrowed it down to them in the first place.” He studied her face through the screen. “What’s going on?”

  She sighed. Everything. Nothing. The town seemed to have embraced her, and she didn’t want to let them down. Huntington House mattered. Not as another hotel in the Huntington lineup, but as a second home to those who visited Ferrara. The more she walked the cobblestoned streets of Ferrara, the more distant her memory became of her toes in the sands of Malibu.

  And the more she loved Nonna. If she opened on her scheduled date, Nonna would lose the inn. She pressed her fingers to her temple.

  “Has someth
ing changed, Coconut?”

  Drago’s words popped into her head. Not only the news about the inn, but his feelings regarding relationships as well. His need to travel, to be free. Even if she loved Ferrara, she hadn’t found love in Ferrara, only a lover. Big, big difference, and one she’d do well to remember.

  But that wasn’t something she wanted to share with her father. “No, everything’s fine. I only want to do this right. To do the right thing.” She smiled at him. “How’re you feeling?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Or at least I would be if your mother would quit hovering. I need to get back to work. Do you want me to come out for the opening?”

  “Mother would kill me. Better to have her doting on you than mad at me.”

  He scowled. “Traitor.”

  “I prefer to call it smart.”

  “Chase?”

  “Yes?”

  “You always do what’s right, which is one of the things about you that makes me most proud.”

  She stared at his face through the screen. Did he know what she was considering? Possibly blowing up her future to save Nonna’s past?

  They said their good-byes, leaving Chase to look over the list of potential directors again. She had interviews throughout the afternoon. All she wanted was to find someone who treated Huntington House like it belonged in Ferrara, like family.

  Chase ticked off the running list in her head. Rita and Inez had completed the punch lists for the showrooms and front lobby, RSVPs were rolling in, and she had a brilliant plan for the opening day scavenger hunt. Inez had filled her in on the linen status—a new shipment was to arrive later in the day.

  Making her way toward the elevators, she caught a whiff of men’s cologne and was immediately assaulted with visions of broad, naked shoulders and strong, demanding hands. She stumbled over her own feet, but caught herself before toppling completely over.

  Drago reached out. “Are you okay, bella?”

  She held a hand to her chest. Heat rushed over her cheeks, and his accent rolled over each word he spoke, the deep timbre riding along her senses in waves, thrilling her. “Yes, I’m fine. Lost in thought.” She kissed his cheek, wanting to linger, but forced herself to step back and fold her hands casually in front of her. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “I wanted to check in. Anything you need?”

  Yes, there was, but it involved him naked and finishing what he’d started in the shower back in Rome. She cleared her throat. Somehow between stepping off the plane and this moment, she’d turned into a nympho. But damn him, did his suits have to show off the breadth of his shoulders as if they were a standing invitation, and did his mouth have to make promises without speaking? Good God, the stress was surely making her go mad.

  Pressing her lips together, she jerked her chin to the side slightly. “No. Nothing.”

  He stepped close, resting a hand on her hip. Leaning toward her ear, he whispered, “I don’t believe you, because I need something. Something that apparently only you can help me with.”

  His warm breath sent a chill racing up her spine, and she suppressed a shudder. She smiled serenely regardless of how badly she wanted to shove him onto the bench opposite the elevator doors so she could help him over and over again.

  Instead, she stepped back, needing room to breathe. “Yes, well. I do try my best, love. For now, I need to stay on my own two feet.” She threw him a wink. “At least until I finish these interviews, then you should see what I can accomplish on my hands and knees.”

  The look on his face was priceless. Shocking the Dragon was positively one of her favorite things to do.

  With a calm she didn’t feel, she smiled at him. “Ciao.” She felt his eyes follow her, so she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and not falling flat on her face.

  Once she was out of his sight, she checked the time and hurried through the hallway to see the tiled mosaic she’d been waiting very impatiently on. The man couldn’t have taken longer if he’d tried.

  Rounding the corner, her eyes fell on a splash of bright orange, and she cried out. “What is this?” She looked up and down the expanse of the room, but no one was around. With her chest tightening by the minute, she slowly turned back to the nightmare on the wall. Where her beautiful mosaic of white, gold, and ivory should have been was a horrific combination of burnt-orange tiles arranged in a splatter design.

  She spun to look at the mirrored mosaic on the opposite wall, which had been designed to her exact specifications, then back to the mess that had greeted her. Her stomach tied in knots, and she tried to pull in a breath. Why? She couldn’t have been more specific. The whole inspiration was designed around a mirrored effect.

  It was one more debacle she could add to her list. Tears stung behind her lids, and she blinked a few times until she’d gained some control.

  Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this after all.

  Or maybe it’s just a sign that you need to do the right thing. She stilled.

  Pressing her fingers into her stomach, she racked her brain to come up with a workable solution, but the weight of it all pressed with merciless vigor.

  Inez called out. “Signora Huntington, your first interview is here.” Chase glanced up to see her slow, a look of horror on her face.

  “What happened?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know. Get the mason on the phone and back to the hotel immediately.”

  “Of course.”

  Brushing passed Inez, she centered her thoughts back on the task at hand. She’d get through the interviews, then she’d call the board. The mosaic cemented her decision. As much as she wanted the director of operations job, she didn’t feel right about rushing the opening, but more so, she didn’t feel right about Huntington House hurting the inn. Stepping on others to reach the top had never been a part of her business model.

  Still—breathing became increasingly more difficult.

  There would be other opportunities. Perhaps the board would understand why she needed to make this decision, or if they didn’t, maybe she could find another job at the Malibu hotel and work her way up more slowly.

  Her stomach turned over. Who was she kidding? In the end, the life she’d so desperately wanted to start living would slip right between her fingers. She gripped her hands tightly closed.

  Making her way to the conference room, she took her seat at the large table and straightened her shoulders. Yes, she’d had to make a very difficult decision. But her heart was right. The board might not be able to see that, but it didn’t change the fact that rescheduling the opening for the following month would be best for Ferrara. The people needed the inn, and Huntington House would be an incredible addition for tourists and the townspeople alike if she had the time to do it right. In order for both to win, she had to lose.

  Pasting a smile on her face, she pushed the intercom button. “Rita, send in the first applicant, per favore.”

  The candidate entered and Chase stood to shake his hand. He was in his midforties, and his résumé showed he had the varied experience the Huntingtons were looking for.

  “Welcome. Please, have a seat.”

  The gentleman waited as she took hers, then lowered to the chair adjacent to her own. “I’m pleased to be here. I’ve followed the Huntington legacy for some time now. You’re doing brilliant things with your brand.”

  She smiled. They really were, but the cynical side of her couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it or if he felt it was “the thing” to say. “Thank you. Our family’s goal is to continue to expand without losing quality. Staying in any Huntington is to be a love affair, not a one-night stand.”

  He smiled. “Will there be more going up in the Emilia-Romagna area?”

  “No, we’re scouting in the south but haven’t determined anything concrete at this time. Are you interested in locating elsewhere?”

  “I’m willing to go anywhere you want me to go.”

  Usually that was the exact response she want
ed to hear from potential employees, but this time it left her disappointed. Huntington House was all about embracing Ferrara, being authentic to the city, not being an American perception of Italian culture. Having it run by someone who didn’t get that or didn’t care where it was located would be a problem.

  She went through the rest of the interview on autopilot, then suffered through two more. When the last candidate left, she made her way to the mirror. Her collar hung limply against her shoulders. As she tried to pop it up, it stubbornly lay back flat. It had about as much enthusiasm for its existence as she did for these interviews.

  Where was the right candidate? Where was the businessperson with heart, with the emotion needed to pull this town into the hotel and keep it there?

  She walked over to the side window and looked out upon the cobblestoned street. A mother rode past with a toddler sitting in a child’s seat strapped to the back and an infant secured in the basket up front. The child couldn’t be more than two or three years old, but held on tight while holding an umbrella over the lot of them. Chase’s heart set up to drumming, leaving her to rub at the spot. Ferrara was a family, not just a city.

  It was a home. Something shifted in her chest, and she pulled away from the window. Home. She was leaving for Malibu in a few days. Finally. It was supposed to be her chance to set down roots, to become a part of a community of her own. Well, she’d simply have to talk the board into seeing things her way. A reschedule didn’t equate to failure. On the contrary, it equated to good business. The kind of business she wanted to be a part of.

  But she had to find a director first. One who belonged to Ferrara as much as Ferrara belonged to them. Only then would the dreams she had for the hotel come true.

  Feeling lighter for the first time in days, she glanced back in the mirror with determination. She popped up her collar, and this time it stuck.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Drago couldn’t get the teasing vision of Chase on her hands and knees out of his head, which made securing the staff’s cooperation a much more difficult task. Fortunately, he’d been able to resolve the linen crisis earlier. Nothing a little of his money and a new contract brokered by Rita couldn’t fix. The staff would simply make the other linens disappear, and intercept any communications with Santini.