Resisting The Sicilian Playboy. Amanda Cinelli

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СКАЧАТЬ she took a sip from her water.

      He leaned back into his seat, casual and in control. ‘I don’t like to put a limit on progress, Dara. As a businesswoman I’m sure you can understand that.’

      ‘I’m glad to hear that, actually. I was considering showing you some ideas that struck me for your event tonight.’ She reached for her handbag, then paused. ‘Unless that violates my role as your temporary consultant?’ She raised a brow.

      Leo sighed. The woman was hell-bent on annoying him.

      ‘Make it quick.’

      She busied herself taking out a sleek tablet computer and unfolding the case into a neat stand, so that it stood upright as an impromptu presentation screen. She launched into a flurry of rough outlines, pinpointing the areas in which she felt his current plan lacked variety.

      ‘So, you see, if you split the evening into two parts you will avoid alienating the business clientele,’ she concluded, finally.

      Leo sat back in his chair and tilted his head to one side. The flow chart on the screen was genius. She had just achieved in one brainstorming session what a team of seven event organisers had failed to.

      The Milan relaunch had been heavily debated for weeks, due to the awkward combination of ‘party hard’ celebrity guests and the more staid businessmen and politicians. Finding an event structure that could keep all groups entertained had proved impossible, and yet Dara had seen the solution after simply looking down from an upper floor window.

      ‘Could you achieve all of this before you attend the event tonight?’

      ‘Without a doubt.’ She nodded confidently, her grey eyes lighting up with determination.

      ‘I’ll call my team in and you can get to work.’

      She looked surprised for a moment. ‘Would your team not resent having a newcomer treading on their toes?’

      ‘I’m beginning to wonder if I should be the one resenting them.’

      She visibly relaxed into her chair. ‘I’m glad you’re open to change.’

      He laughed, taking a sip of his coffee. ‘“Change” is an understatement. Things clearly need a shake-up. They’re paid so well they’ve lost their creativity.’ He sat forward, flicking the screen of her computer across to look through the images once more. ‘I’ll have my management team on hand—anything you need, they are at your disposal.’

      ‘You make me sound important.’ Her eyes sparkled as she closed down the screen and placed it back into her bag.

      ‘And what about the uniforms?’ he enquired casually, and smiled when her expression turned rueful.

      ‘I don’t expect you to overhaul your branding after one little statement.’

      ‘Ah, but I’m an impulsive man, Dara.’ He waved a hand, signalling to the waiter for their coats. ‘Your comments last night have wounded my overblown pride. I’ll expect that to be remedied by this evening too.’

      Her eyes widened, her delicate hands twisting in her lap as she absorbed his challenge. ‘It take it that this is another test?’

      ‘You say you’ve never lost a challenge. Consider it an experiment.’

      She straightened her shoulders. ‘You trust me to make changes to your event and overhaul your signature uniform in less than seven hours?’

      ‘Are you telling me you can’t do it?’

      ‘I can do it,’ she said, all confidence. ‘I just don’t understand why you’re giving me this opportunity when you’ve refused so many others.’

      He sat back in his chair, once again taken by her honest approach to business. He had invited her tonight because of his attraction to her. But now, after she had once again proved she was more brains than body, he felt tempted to tell her at least a half-truth.

      ‘Ten years ago I commissioned those uniforms as a gimmick. We had only been open a few months, and it was the first New Year’s Eve event we ever held. The party was in full swing when a notorious designer came staggering in. He was drunk, as usual, and he stood in the middle of a crowd of journalists and began to shout that he could see himself in one of the suits.’

      Leo laughed as he remembered the night clearly.

      ‘The man was absolutely trashed, and he was amazed by his own reflection in the material.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘But that’s not how everyone else saw it. Anyway—long story short: word soon spread and our temporary costumes became a brand statement. I found the whole situation hilarious.’

      He took another sip of coffee.

      ‘It was a publicity stunt that worked, and it seemed that I was the only person who could see how ridiculous the staff looked. Until you, of course.’ He raised his coffee cup in mock salute.

      ‘My attention to detail is what keeps me in business.’

      ‘Well, I’d imagine being associated with a big brand like Lucchesi doesn’t hurt.’ Leo dropped the name casually, watching her reaction with hooded intent.

      ‘I’m hardly “associated” with the brand. I’ve been contracted for a few events—one with the Lucchesi Foundation, their charity for the hospitals of Sicily.’

      ‘You must have made quite an impression for a relative unknown to be trusted by such a family.’

      ‘I happened to get talking to Gloria Lucchesi and her daughters while I was planning a wedding in Syracuse.’ She shrugged. ‘I wish it was more impressive, but it was rather coincidental.’

      ‘Nonetheless, you are on first-name terms with a very powerful family. That in itself is an achievement.’

      ‘I suppose it is.’ She smiled.

      Leo mulled over her connection to Umberto Lucchesi. Their recent disagreement had caused a large problem that he was fast losing time to resolve. Not that a wedding planner could pose any solution, but she might possibly be useful.

      He watched as Dara sat back in her chair, casually glancing towards him as she folded her napkin into a neat square on the table, then did the same with his.

      She looked up and noticed his look of amusement at her actions. ‘Sorry, it’s a force of habit. Organisation is a natural impulse for me. Hence my choice of occupation.’

      ‘And what does my choice of occupation say about me, I wonder?’

      She twisted her lips. ‘I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to say.’

      ‘You know, not very many women can make me feel as if I’m under scrutiny. And yet it’s as though everything I say or do offends you.’

      ‘I’m not offended by you. I’m quite aware of the fact that your impulses are the only reason I’m sitting here.’ She shrugged.

      ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that’s the only reason...’ He let his voice deepen slightly as he leaned forward СКАЧАТЬ