A Deal for the Di Sione Ring

by Jennifer Hayward

  “You were having nightmares about it last night. You’re not fine.”

  A flush filled her cheeks. “I woke you?”

  “I was still working. Mina, I promised to protect you and I will. You don’t need to worry about him.”

  “I know. I do. It’s just—sometimes my imagination gets the better of me.” She raked her hair out of her face. “That’s not why I’m upset. My mother called. She was furious. Not that I hadn’t expected that. My reputation is in tatters. Also not surprising.”

  “Then why the lost look? What did she say to you?”

  She shook her head. “You are my boss now. I should keep this professional.”

  He gave her a wry look. “We are also married. I think we have a rather unique relationship. What did she say?”

  She exhaled. “She wasn’t worried about me. She didn’t ask if I was okay. She didn’t care if I was happy with you. She said I’d disappointed her.”

  He lifted a brow. “For running away from a monster to marry a man who professes to love you and will keep you safe? For delivering the exact same result in the sale of the ring? What kind of a mother is she?”

  She shook her head. “She never wanted children. My father did. I was always with my nanny, Camilla. As soon as my father died, she sent me off to boarding school in France, as if she couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I always came home with good grades, top of my class, but it seemed inconsequential to her. She just didn’t care.”

  “How old were you when your father died?”

  “Eight.”

  The image of a tiny Mina being sent off to school at such a young age pulled at his heartstrings. “You’ve never talked to her about it? Asked her why?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “My mamma—she is cold. It’s her way. I told myself to let it go. To not wish for the impossible. But sometimes I do. I wish I knew what she finds so...lacking in me so I can fix it.”

  He knew how that felt. To always wonder what it was about you that was so defective your own father wanted nothing to do with you. That he could turn his back on his own flesh and blood and slam a door in your face when you had come to beg for assistance. To deny you even existed. But he knew it was a fruitless pursuit. A soul-destroying pursuit.

  “It’s better not to wonder,” he told Mina roughly, “to look for that flaw in yourself you think they see in you. Because it’s not you, it’s her. She should have been a proper mother to you and she wasn’t. That’s her cross to bear, not yours. Don’t waste your life trying to figure out something you’ll likely never get an answer to.”

  She blinked. “Are you talking about your father?”

  He ignored that. “Learn how to stand on your own two feet. How to exist without her approval. It will be the most empowering thing you can ever do.”

  She nodded, but hurt still throbbed in her eyes.

  He sighed. “What?”

  “She’s all I have.”

  His heart squeezed. “You’re better off without her. That’s not how a true parent acts.”

  Her mouth compressed. Turning on her heel, she walked into her bedroom, came back and handed him the massive diamond solitaire Silvio had given her. “I need to give this back.”

  He took the small fortune out of her hands. “I’ll have it sent to him. Speaking of which, we’ll need to get you a rock for show.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “You’re my wife, Mina, it is. People will be looking.”

  She sat down on the sofa and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Susana asked me how we met. I was unprepared for the question. I told her we met in the bar at the Giarruso. It was the first response that came to me.”

  His mouth curved. “That I picked you, extraordinarily innocent Mina, up in a hotel bar after work?” He sat down on the sofa opposite her. “Seems a stretch but we’ll go with it.”

  “I should know a few pertinent details about you if we’re to carry this off. It was awkward with Susana.”

  He lifted a brow. “Such as?”

  “Where do you live in New York?”

  “I have a penthouse off Central Park in the heart of Manhattan. It’s not as beautiful as Sicily, but I think you’ll enjoy the energy of the city.”

  “You said we’re not going back to New York right away?”

  “We have week-long stops in Hong Kong and the Maldives after Capri, then we head home.”

  She blinked at the blindingly fast pace of her new life. “Brothers or sisters?”

  “I have seven half siblings from my father’s marriage.”

  “Are you close to them?”

  What to say? That he and his brothers and sisters were perhaps the most dysfunctional clan on the planet? That there was not only a deep wedge between himself and Alex, but a distance he kept with all of them because every single one of them was a bit broken from their past and it was easier not to open up old wounds?

  “I’m not sure I’d characterize it as close,” he said finally, “but we do interact from time to time.”

  “I know you run and like the opera, but do you have any other hobbies? Other leisure activities I should know of that are a passion?”

  His mouth twisted. “Work is my passion. I work fourteen-...fifteen-hour days, Mina. Not much time for anything else. Which,” he suggested, “is what we should focus on now. Unless you have more questions?”

  She shook her head. “That will do for now.”

  He picked up the report on the Emelia’s financials and handed it to her. “Review this. We’ll talk it over after you’ve had a chance to read it, but first I want to go over the ground rules of how we’ll work together.”

  She crossed her legs primly and sat back to listen.

  “First of all,” he said, “you are here to learn. So learn. The most valuable thing you can do over the next year is to sit back and listen, soak up everything that’s being said, conduct your own analysis, and afterward, when it’s just the two of us, you can ask any questions you may have.

  “Secondly, I want you to watch the people in this meeting or any meeting we’re in. Watch their body language, look for their nonverbal cues, because they are often more telling than what is coming out of their mouth. Always look for an angle, because everyone has an angle in business, an agenda they’re walking into the room with. Understanding these goals and different agendas is a crucial skill in any negotiation—antagonistic or friendly.”

  “I’ve been told my father was brilliant with people.” A proud light entered Mina’s eyes. “He once solved a strike that had been going on for weeks at one of our plants by walking into the picket lines and hashing out a deal with the workers.”

  “Which translates into my third rule,” said Nate. “I want you to be a problem solver. Come to me with a solution, not an issue.”

  She nodded. “Bene.”

  “That’s it for now.” He nodded toward the report. “Profits have been sagging over the past year at the Emelia. We need to light a fire under things. See what you think.”

  * * *

  The meeting with Giorgio and the Emelia management team went worse than Nate had expected. Complacency had set in at the hotel and it seemed his general manager had no plan how to lift sagging profits because he didn’t think he had a problem.

  “The market is down, Nate,” Giorgio soothed in that smooth-as-silk voice of his. “We’re doing everything we can to entice new customers to the hotel, but we can’t manufacture them.”

  Nate directed a look at Mina. “Was the Giarruso’s occupancy rate down this year?”

  She frowned. “Not much. I think the manager said five percent.”

  “And you are down fifteen percent,” Nate said to Giorgio.

  Giorgio put his hand on Mina’s arm as if she were a child in need of correction.
“It must have been more than five percent. Perhaps you have the numbers wrong.”

  “No,” said Mina. “It was nowhere near fifteen percent.”

  Giorgio sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you propose I do? Alter the economies of the western world? Manipulate the markets? We’ve upped the sales and marketing budgets. The effort is there, Nate.”

  “The effort is ineffective.”

  Giorgio’s face reddened. Silence fell at the table.

  “What about repeat guests?” Mina interjected. “Your number is way down. What if you—”

  Nate shot her a withering look. She sat back in her chair and closed her mouth.

  “What is your plan of attack for them?” Nate asked Giorgio.

  “We’ve done a whole discounted rate campaign. It isn’t moving rooms.”

  “Then it isn’t compelling enough.”

  Giorgio looked at Mina. “What were you going to suggest?”

  Nate nodded tightly at her to go ahead.

  “I was thinking of a ‘remember the memories’ type campaign,” Mina said. “I was here in Capri on holidays with my family years ago. When we arrived it brought back such great memories. So perhaps something more emotion based than financial.”

  Giorgio steepled his hands together. “I like it.”

  Nate liked it, too, but wished the idea had come from his manager and not his protégée. He continued to grill his top man until the end of the three-hour meeting, then mercifully ended it, ushering Mina up to their suite in tight-lipped silence.

  “I know,” Mina said in a preemptive strike, the minute the door closed behind them, “I wasn’t supposed to talk. It’s just it was getting painful and I had an idea.”

  “Painful is good. Discomfort shakes people up and pushes them outside of their comfort zone. Which, quite frankly, Giorgio needs desperately right now or he will be out of a job.”

  Her eyes widened, color washing her cheeks. “I thought by offering up an idea, Giorgio might build on it.”

  “And by doing so you undermined my attempt to teach him a lesson. After I told you not to talk.” Nate pinned his gaze on her. “When I put someone in the hot seat I’m doing it for a reason, Mina. So keep your mouth shut.”

  She took a step back. “Mi dispiace. I—I didn’t realize that’s what you were doing. It won’t happen again.”

  “No, it won’t,” he agreed, his voice sharp as a knife. “Because you will stick to my rules or you won’t play at all.”

  She nodded rapidly, pupils as big as saucers, hands clenched by her sides. He did a double take. She was afraid of him?

  Then he remembered what she’d just gone through... How intimidating he must look to her at twice her size towering over her. Furious. Mina wasn’t one of his toughened, worldly employees used to his rants. She was a baby chick who’d just taken fledgling steps out of the nest.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and blew out a breath. “Business isn’t the glorified interaction of a tea party, where everyone plays nice and leaves with a smile on their face. It’s a ferociously competitive playground where only the strongest survive. I could leave you in a back office, give you research work and not let you experience what it’s really like, but that’s no way to learn. So find yourself a thick skin, Mina. Learn to be a gladiator, because people’s feelings don’t matter in this game.”

  A determined glint entered her eyes as the fear faded from her face. “I can and I will, Nate. I apologize again. I did not mean to undermine your authority.”

  “Fine.” He nodded. “Go get changed for the party.”

  She started toward her room.

  “Mina?”

  She turned around. “I thought your idea about the repeat guests was right on the money. Emotional affinity is the reason people will spend money in a downturn. I’m going to direct Giorgio to investigate with his marketing team.”

  Her face brightened. It was like the sun had come out. “Grazie, Nate.”

  His lips curved. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that after a month with me.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “WILL THIS DO?”

  Nate shifted his gaze from the smartphone he’d been perusing to the spectacular set of legs in front of him. Moved up past rounded hips outlined in a shimmering midnight blue fabric to a modestly covered but spectacularly presented cleavage. The term less is more came to mind. With Mina less was always more. A man could be forgiven for concluding she was best left entirely unclothed for his undeniable pleasure.

  And yet Mina, it seemed, had no idea of just how stunning she was, a fact that only increased her appeal. Lip caught between her teeth, a finger twirling a curl around it, her gaze on his for approval, it amused him to think of what her response would have been had he suggested what would have been on his mind had she been his wife in more than name.

  Her eyes on his in the ornate mirror on the wall, her palms flat on the antique table in front of it, her dress around her waist as he put that just taken glow in her cheeks that marked her his.

  Mina’s eyes widened. Her lashes came down to fan her cheeks.

  “You look stunning,” he said, before he shocked her from here to New York. “The color suits you.”

  “Grazie.” She smoothed the dress over her hips. “So tell me the goal for the evening.”

  She was learning. “The Grand Hotel chain,” he said, tucking his smartphone into the pocket of his jacket, “has partnered with Hollywood legends Antonio Davis and Franco Messini on a series of nightclubs located in select properties around the world—London, LA, Capri and New York. Curious—the nightclub brand—reflects the exclusive, adventurous cross section of clientele who frequent it and the unique experiences the nightclub offers.”

  “I know Antonio Davis,” Mina said, her eyes shining. “He’s a legend. I love his movies.”

  “He’s also a shrewd businessman. Brilliant at extending his brand to other realms. Tonight,” he said, buttoning his jacket, “is the opening night for Curious in Capri. Antonio and Franco have flown their entourages in for the event, the goal to stir up excitement for the launch.”

  “And what will be the unique experience tonight, then?”

  “It’s an Arabian Nights theme. Exotic, sensual. All the usual decor. But there will also be a tattoo artist who is doing henna tattoos. It’s a unique branding opportunity guests will show off after the event, keeping the buzz going.”

  “Henna tattoos are all the rage in the magazines.”

  “I think they look very sexy on a woman.” He arched a brow at her. “Have you tried?”

  “I don’t think it’s really me.”

  “You never know until you try.” The wicked note to his voice brought a pretty pink flush to her cheeks. “Antonio’s entourage is fine to mingle with, by the way. Franco’s can be questionable. Steer clear of them.”

  She nodded, a flicker of something he couldn’t read in her eyes.

  “What?”

  “You think I’m hopelessly naive.”

  His mouth tipped up at one corner. “Aren’t you?”

  She stared at him for a long moment, the flush in her cheeks increasing, then bent to retrieve her wrap from a chair. “Who am I supposed to be this evening? Your protégée or your pretend wife?”

  “My jaw-droppingly beautiful wife.” He swiped the wrap from her and draped it around her shoulders, his fingertips brushing against her enticing golden skin. “The big bad wolves are coming out to play tonight, Mina. Thus the warning.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’ve attended more society parties than I’d care to count. I’ll be fine.”

  “Not like this one.”

  Her gaze lowered to his hands, still resting on her bare shoulders, as if she wondered why they were still there. He wond
ered, too. Wondered why every excuse to touch her was irresistible.

  Perhaps the wolves were inside, too...

  His hands slid from her shoulders. “Tonight will be a good dry run for you for New York. The news that we’re married will filter back to the press. They’ll be all over us for a bit, I expect.”

  An apprehensive look entered her beautiful brown eyes. He pressed his palm to her back and propelled her to the door. “You’re a gladiator, remember? This is a piece of cake.”

  * * *

  The Curious party, held in the Emelia’s sleek outdoor lounge that overlooked the bay, was in full swing when they arrived. To the outward eye it looked as if it had been flawlessly executed by Giorgio’s staff. Arabian Nights–style tents in vibrant jeweled colors blanketed the furniture-strewn space, varying in size and complexity. Gauzy green and purple curtains, both drawn and open, hinted at two degrees of interaction, both social and seductively intimate.

  The interior of the tents was over-the-top fantasy, those same jeweled tones reflected in the pillows and throws that covered the low-slung divans and rich tapestries. Copious amounts of candles, ornate lamps, bejeweled belly dancers giving partygoers seductive performances and the tattoo artists completed the ambience. It was as if you’d just made your way through the desert and stumbled upon an oasis filled with the most beautiful people on earth.

  Jewels were abundant, paid escorts, too, accompanying the rich men who required a beautiful woman by their side.

  “Paid escorts?” Mina didn’t seem to get the concept. “You mean prostitutes?”

  “I doubt they would appreciate that terminology,” he drawled. “I expect some will provide recreational activity and some are here for appearances only.”

  “Oh.” She shut up after that as he networked his way through the space with ruthless efficiency. He wasn’t a natural-born socializer. It was a means to an end, a necessary requirement of the job. His wife, on the other hand, was in her element, circulating with an effortless poise, murmuring polite phrases in that sexy Italian lilt of hers, adjusting to the interests and personality of everyone that she met on the fly to put them perfectly at ease. He found himself captivated by her charm, by the chameleon that she was, his attention focused on her with an unwavering fascination that was a new experience for him.