An Innocent To Tame The Italian. Tara Pammi
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Название: An Innocent To Tame The Italian
Автор: Tara Pammi
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9781474087964
isbn:
“I can’t just... I have to tell someone that I’m leaving the country.”
“A boyfriend? Perhaps the man who put you up to this?”
“No one did,” she repeated, biting away Vincenzo’s name at the last second.
This man was dangerous, in more than one way.
More than panic shimmied through her veins as his gaze touched her face. “My job, my... I don’t even know who you are. What if you were a serial killer? A human trafficker? A harvester of organs who’s salivating at the thought of getting his hands on my body?”
His hands on her body... What was wrong with her?
This time, there was no doubting the twinkle in his eyes. Or the languid heat flaring beneath.
Nat stepped back at the mere thought of what that meant. The last thing she needed was an...attraction between them. She knew squat about men. And less than squat about ambitious, ruthless, gorgeous men like her accuser. “Criminals, Ms. Crosetto, dead or alive, however diabolically clever—” his gaze raked her from top to toe and dismissed her in the same breath “—are not my type.” He couldn’t sound more upper class, refined and sophisticated, if he tried.
Everything she wasn’t.
“But since I do not want a hysterical female on my hands on a long transatlantic flight, I’ll tell you.” He looked around her tiny living room, frowned and then settled those broad shoulders onto the wall behind him. The action pushed his hips and thighs away from the wall, highlighting the lean masculinity of the man. Every gesture, every movement of his, called all her senses to attention.
“I’m Massimo Brunetti, the cyber security genius you took on with such ease. And since I won’t let you near an electronic device in the near future, I’ll also give you the Google version, sì?
“I founded Brunetti Cyber Securities a decade ago when I was nineteen. I’m also the CTO for Brunetti Finances, an international finance giant. My brother, Leonardo, is the CEO. That’s the one who wants you behind bars pronto.
“Our family, if you hadn’t realized already, is old power and wealth, the kind of European dynasty others try to emulate unsuccessfully,” he added, with nothing of the pride that was in his tone when he spoke of his security company. “So, yes, far more than your average pretty, rich boy who likes to have his way. Proceed with caution, sì?
“Also, I’ll allow you one single call and you’ll make it in front of me.”
LACK OF SLEEP made Nat grit her eyes as dawn painted the New York sky beautiful shades of pink and orange. Unlike the light pollution that dimmed its shine in the city, the sky here in the country that she’d been driven into at three a.m. in a tinted limo, her sad little bag in hand, was gorgeous. The private airstrip was a hubbub of activity.
Massimo Brunetti...that name and all the power, wealth and reach that came with it had kept Natalie up all night.
She had Googled him the moment Vincenzo had mentioned BCS to her. Him and his CEO brother, Leonardo Brunetti. If Massimo was the brains behind Brunetti Finances, Leonardo was the heart. Cut in the same cloth as Massimo, ruthless when wielding his power, but much more socially active among the glitterati of Milan. The face of their business, the man who flashed his teeth at his enemies, brought in investors, managed the funds, while Massimo built brilliant software that brought in billions of revenue.
“Powerful men make powerful friends or enemies,” Vincenzo had said, when she’d asked if he knew them. “A small favor,” he’d called it. Easy for her incisive mind.
“Can you bring down BCS’s security, Natalie?”
When she had argued that she couldn’t risk anything criminal, she could never go down that path again, he had clasped her hand.
“I’d let nothing happen to you, cara mia. Find a flaw, bring it down. Nothing more. I’ll not ask you to retrieve anything you discover, if you do crack it. Nothing to steal. Just find a weakness in the system.”
“Then why?”—the only question she’d even thought to ask.
“Let’s just say I have my eyes on the man who built it. I need to know if he’s as good as they say. Not a single hacker I’ve hired so far has been able to get through.”
And that had been his lure and she’d more than happily taken the bait.
She could’ve refused. He hadn’t insisted on it. He hadn’t called it as a return on all the favors he’d done for her and Frankie. He hadn’t once, in the ten years since they’d met, mentioned how he’d saved her from a bullying foster parent, or from a wretched future in the juvie system. He hadn’t mentioned not turning in Nat herself when he’d caught her stealing his wallet the first time they had met.
And yet, she’d done it.
Now she wondered at the questions she should’ve asked then.
What did Vincenzo have against Massimo?
Why this particular man?
Why his company?
Why had Vincenzo targeted the brainchild of tech genius Massimo Brunetti?
Instead, she’d thrown caution to the wind, given in to her one weakness and risked everything.
She hadn’t even been able to reach Frankie during the one call Massimo had allowed her. While he’d watched her like a hawk circling a carcass, Natalie had left a message that she was going out of the country for a friend’s sudden wedding, freeloading on the chance. That she would be out of coverage for a while but would call when she could. Her brother knew what a cheapskate she was.
“You’re quite the storyteller, Ms. Crosetto,” Massimo had said in his delicious Italian accent, all sleep mussed before he’d rushed her out of her apartment in the middle of the night, to collect their documents.
Nat pressed her fingers around the coffee cup in her hand—no rest-stop diesel-like coffee for Mr. Pretty Rich Boy. The dark roast felt like heaven on her tongue, anchoring her.
Her spine straightened against the limo as she heard Massimo step out on the other side. His security detail—one broad six-and-half-footer—and his two assistants: a thin man in his twenties with thick glasses and messed-up curly hair. What she’d expected the computer genius to look like—not the sleek, lean, sex-on-legs stud that was Massimo, shame on her prejudice... And the second one—a woman with a dark complexion, in her forties—followed him while he spoke into his cell phone.
Coffee forgotten, Nat watched him with wide eyes as he walked back and forth in front of her speaking in rapid Italian that she couldn’t understand a word of. After every other sentence, he paused, looked at her, and then started again.
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