Bound by the Italian's Contract. Janette Kenny

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СКАЧАТЬ and knuckled the door open. “I trust you don’t mind discussing business in my suite?”

      “Not at all,” she said, stepping inside to regain the buffer of personal space he’d come too close to crossing.

      The amazing view of the mountains from his private suite drew her to the windows. She welcomed the calm their rugged beauty always gave her, this grounding to reality that gave her strength.

      “Thank you for showing interest in my proposal,” she said, turning to face Luciano, whose attention seemed riveted to a small laptop open on the desk. “If there’s anything in particular you wish to know about the designs I’ve envisioned for Tregore Lodge...”

      “Your property is small and in need of intense restoration,” he cut in, not bothering to look at her.

      She cursed the flush burning her face, a show of emotion that she’d never learned to control. “True. Tregore Lodge needs major updating to make it competitive again. But I believe it has much potential...”

      “I don’t,” he said, rudely shooting down the momentum she needed to build before she had a chance to explain how she could establish a state-of-the-art rehabilitation facility there.

      “If you feel that way, then why did you ask for this meeting?” she asked, the question burning holes in her patience despite her determination to maintain a business mien, despite the determination to finance her program.

      “Simple. The only admirable investment on your property is you.”

      “Is this some kind of joke?” she asked, needing to know she hadn’t misunderstood him.

      “Not at all.” He studied her with eyes that took everything in and gave absolutely no emotion away, eyes that touched her as intimately as a caress, bold and without apology. “You hold my interest, Caprice. I want you.”

      Seven years ago she would have fallen all over him, deliriously happy. But then she’d been innocent. Trusting.

      She knew better than to trust a man now. Though this was the faintest glimmer of the playboy she’d known, passionate and direct, she took his remark as an insult.

      “Look, I came here to discuss business that is near and dear to my heart, Mr. Duchelini. If you’re not interested in hearing my proposal, then you’re not interested in me.” She turned and strode toward the double doors with calm, precise steps, determined to walk out with her head held high and in charge of her life.

      “Stay,” he said, the command soft yet persuasive.

      She stopped, fingers tightening around the leather handle of her bag. “Why should I?”

      “I’ve a proposal that will benefit us both,” he said. “I can grant you what you want.”

      That was a fact she knew all too well. And really, could she afford to walk out without hearing his offer? No, she admitted.

      “Then let’s hear it,” she said, whirling to face him.

      “With pleasure,” he said crisply, then strode back toward his desk. “Would you care for a glass of wine?”

      “No, thank you.”

      She never mixed alcohol with business, and that had never been more crucial than now. Despite his wicked reputation, Luciano Duchelini was a superb businessman, and he would expect the same of her. He could take advantage of her and her lodge if she wasn’t careful.

      Caprice crossed to the sofa angled near the balcony with her composure intact and her mind fixed fully on securing a means to fund her program. That was all she wanted from him.

      “Tregore Lodge. Tell me your plans for it,” he said, as he dropped onto a leather office chair and twirled it to face her, his long fingers draped casually over the curved chair arms.

      “Gladly,” she said as she set her portfolio beside her and dug inside it. “I plan to renovate Tregore Lodge inside and out. Foremost is establishing my alternative program for those who have never skied as well as for people who possess varying levels of aptitude on the slopes.”

      “Your program is tiered then?” he asked.

      “In its most basic form, as you’ll see by these,” she said, her confidence snapping into rapier-sharp focus as she handed him a copy of her carefully prepared prospectus.

      He lounged back on the chair and thumbed through the papers, looking relaxed and in charge, the last thing about him that was still organic. But he’d changed.

      Not in looks or physique. He was still disarmingly handsome. Still lean and fit. But he’d lost all trace of the flirtatious, teasing charmer she’d remembered so well and adopted the image of a serious businessman who detested wasting his time.

      Or maybe he simply still wasn’t attracted to her. Maybe he believed if he was too friendly, he’d have a repeat of the teenager with the monstrous crush on the star athlete. If that was the case, he need not worry.

      She had no desire in him beyond securing a business deal. “Regardless of one’s ability, I slant the program to the individual’s needs.”

      “Just what I wanted to hear,” he said at last. “This is why I am interested in you.”

      “I’m flattered,” she said, relieved he was referring to her program.

      “As was intended,” he said with a bow of his head. “Do you recall my brother?”

      “Julian? Yes, I do.” Quite well, in fact. “Years ago, he crashed often in your suite.”

      She’d immediately liked the boisterous Italian who took great pleasure needling and teasing his champion older brother. And the world had gloried in the upstart’s daring exploits on the slopes, expecting Julian to set new world records, breaking those set by his father and Luciano despite his undisciplined ways.

      But rumor had it Julian had kept his slot on the Italian team only because of his brother’s lead position. Whether that was true or not she never knew. One month after the World Cup, Julian had broken his neck in a tragic ski accident and ended up bound to a wheelchair for life.

      “Julian is lucky to be alive,” she said and meant it.

      He gave an abrupt nod, jaw snapping taut. “My brother doesn’t think so.”

      “I’m not surprised. Paralysis is difficult for average patients to cope with. It tends to devastate top athletes.” And Julian had been a new star on the horizon. “Recurrent bouts of depression are understandable in cases such as his. That is why adaptive skiing works,” she said. “It boosts confidence both on and off the slopes, strengthens physical ability and agility, and provides a means to broaden social skills.”

      “Unfortunately Julian has gained less than desirable results with alternative skiing and given up the effort,” he said. “Even more troubling, none of the therapists I’ve hired have a program as individualized as yours. He needs your help, Caprice. I believe he will respond to any challenge you put before him.”

      She blinked, his effusive praise at odds with his earlier criticism of her plans for her lodge. “Wait a minute. If you believe my program СКАЧАТЬ