Billionaires: The Hero: A Deal for the Di Sione Ring / The Last Di Sione Claims His Prize / The Baby Inheritance. Maisey Yates
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.”
“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 wondered, 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