Читать книгу Modern Romance February Books 1-4 - Линн Грэхем, Maisey Yates - Страница 15
ОглавлениеGABRIELLA WAS STUNNED by the view spread before her. Her grandmother had told her how beautiful her homeland was, but she hadn’t been prepared for the true splendor of it.
The city that she and Alex were staying in was filled with ornate, old-world architecture, the Mediterranean Sea spread out before it like a gem. It was a glorious mixture of old and new. High-rises being built in a new section of the city, dedicated to bringing much needed commerce to the nation. While the old historic districts remained unchanged.
She wanted to go out and explore. She did not want to cool her heels in the grand hotel suite that Alex had installed them in. But Alex had insisted that he had some work to do, and it would not do to have her wandering around the country by herself.
She supposed that she could defy him on the matter, but she honestly had such limited travel experience that she didn’t feel terribly inclined to do that. She was much more likely to stick close to the large American businessman acting as her escort, as she had a feeling he would be a little bit more accomplished at guarding her physical safety than she would.
Not that anything about Isolo D’Oro seemed menacing, but stories of how her family had escaped under threat echoed in her mind. It wasn’t something she could simply forget.
“How are your impressions so far?”
Alex chose that moment to come out of his bedroom. He had discarded his suit jacket, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a wedge of tan skin covered with just the right amount of dark chest hair.
She questioned that thought the moment it entered her mind. What on earth was the appropriate amount of chest hair, and how was she so certain that he was in possession of it? It wasn’t as though she was an expert on men’s chests or the quantity of hair on them.
How strange that she was putting so much thought into his.
“It’s lovely,” she said, turning her focus back to the view, and resolutely away from his chest.
“I’m glad you think so.”
She studied him closely. “Are you?”
He smiled and the impact of it felt like a punch in the chest. He was an irritatingly large presence. His every movement set the hairs on her arms on end, his shifting expressions creating a seismic reaction in her internal organs.
“No,” he said. “I don’t actually care what you think. It just seemed a polite thing to say.”
She looked at him, unable to get a genuine read on him. “I can’t decide whether or not I’m amused by you,” she said.
“I believe the general consensus of me is that I’m horrifying.”
“Hmm. Really?”
“My reputation precedes me in all corners of the earth. I’m known to be quite hard. Demanding. A perfectionist in areas of business. Sometimes scarcely human. Some say that if you cut me, I would, in fact, not bleed.”
“Well, that is ridiculous. Because everybody bleeds,” she said.
“For such a clever creature, you are alarmingly literal.”
“It is ridiculous,” she insisted. “All of it. Obviously you’re human.”
His smile only grew broader. “Is it obvious? I feel it isn’t to many. But then, I find that amusing and don’t do much to dispel the idea that I might be some kind of monster.”
“Why?”
He walked across the small living area, heading back toward the bedroom he had just come out of and pushing the door open. “Coming?” he asked.
Her heart slammed against her rib cage. “What?”
“You asked a question. I thought you might want to hear the answer. But I have to go into my room to get my jacket and retrieve my tie.”
She scrambled after him, feeling a little bit silly that she had somehow read something else into those words. Of course he wasn’t asking her to come into the bedroom for...well, anything that might be done in the bedroom.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who invited seduction. And she was genuinely fine with that. Someday, she would find a man. A suitable man who would make a suitable match. Possibly a minor role. Or someone who moved in high European society but who also liked books and dusty libraries. Yes, that. Most likely. Definitely not an American businessman who took joy in tormenting others with his dry sense of humor and seemed to regard her love of reading and research with the kind of curiosity one usually reserved for a bug under a microscope.
“You want to know why I enjoy keeping others at a distance?”
“I am curious, I admit,” she said.
She was also surprised that he was even pretending he was going to give her an answer. After all, if he truly enjoyed keeping people at a distance, why would he disclose any information that might bring the two of them closer together? It didn’t make sense.
“I like the freedom it affords me,” he said. He opened up the closet and pulled out a jacket and a tie. Both black, exactly like the ones he’d worn earlier. Though she had a feeling they were a different set than before. “When people fear you they tend to defer to you. That ensures I get my way most of the time.”
“What are they afraid you’ll do?”
“I don’t know.” He began to button his shirt collar. “That’s the most amusing part. For all the rumors of my misdeeds, I have yet to actually throw anyone in a dungeon. Neither have I ever sucked anyone’s blood. However, my legend looms large, and who am I to argue with that?”
“I don’t think I have a legend. Well, obviously I don’t, as you had never heard of me when you arrived at the estate.”
He lifted a shoulder as he looped the tie around his neck. “But then, you had never heard of me, either, cara.”
“True enough. But I’m rather cloistered there at the estate. There are a great many things I haven’t heard of.”
He arched a dark brow. “Does your grandmother not have Wi-Fi?”
“Yes, we have the internet. It’s just that I don’t often make use of it.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s very disconcerting to know you could log into a news website at any time and your family is the headline. I just...” Her stomach twisted just thinking about it. “I prefer to avoid it. My brothers... Well, they’re as rich as you are. Just as ruthless. Libertines, as you put it earlier. My parents are worse. At least my brothers have some good qualities to redeem them. They are amusing. When they want to be. And they’re quite nice actually. To me. Their ex-mistresses would tell you a different story. But even if they’ve earned it...even if parts of it are true...I don’t really enjoy seeing what the media has to say about my family.”
“No,” he said, his voice softer all of a sudden. “You prefer to gather facts.”
“Yes. Exactly that.”
“You like to control the story.”
She shook her head. “No, it isn’t about me controlling a story. I want to know the truth.”
“That’s a lie, Gabby. You like to control the story. You like to hear it first. You like to decide what is done with it. You want to make sure that you are able to collect the information at the speed in which you can process it. You like to ensure that you are the one who gets to form the first opinion. There isn’t anything wrong with it. But it is the truth.”
She felt as though he’d run her through with a scabbard. It hurt terribly and made her feel exposed. As though he’d seen down deep into parts of her she’d never even examined before.
And the only reason it felt that way was because...it was true.
“Why is it you seem to think you know me so well?” she asked.
His dark eyes leveled with hers. “I recognized something of myself in you. On that same topic, I’m never entirely certain whether or not you amuse me.”
She looked down, clasping her hands together and picking at her thumbnail. “Not very many people find me amusing. I think they find me boring.”
“Now that, I can’t imagine. You are the farthest thing from boring. In fact, I find that to be one of your foremost negative qualities.”
She frowned. “Why would being entertaining be a negative quality?”
“Because I like boring women. Boring women are easy to sleep with and forget about. Boring women are the best kind.”
A rash of heat broke out over her skin, color flooding her face. “I’m not going to sleep with you so my....interestingness shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
He chuckled. “I wasn’t making an offer.”
Shame washed over her. Of course he wasn’t. Of course he hadn’t meant that. But she was still talking and she couldn’t stop herself. “When I do make room in my life for that sort of relationship, I will most definitely be pursuing a man closer to my own age who has interests in common with my own.”
“Oh, right. I forgot. We have quite the generational gap between us.”
“It’s prohibitive. We won’t even like the same music.”
He chuckled softly. “But you don’t like popular music. You like classical music.”
This statement infuriated her, because it was true, too. Just like the last one. Was she somehow telegraphing her private thoughts via her eyeballs?
“And what sort of music do you like?” she asked.
“Classic rock.” He smiled. “You’re right, it isn’t to be. We’re too different.”
“Ah, well, just allow me to get the broom and dustpan so I can sweep up the pieces of my broken heart.”
“I would, but we haven’t the time for such carrying-on. We have a meeting.”
She blinked rapidly. “We do?”
“Yes. We have a meeting with the prime minister of Isolo D’Oro.”
“But... When?”
He raised his hand and looked down at his wrist, at the watch he wore that no doubt cost more than some people’s yearly salary. “In about ten minutes.”
She took in his perfectly pressed appearance. The sharp white shirt, and the rest, all an inky black to match his hair and eyes. He was like a dark angel come to life in Armani. And she was...well, she was wearing polyester pants.
“Wait a second! That isn’t fair. You had a chance to change your clothes. I’m still wearing the same thing that I was wearing on the plane.”
“Which is perfect. Because you are my assistant, not a lover. Not a princess.” He reached back into the closet and pulled out a garment bag. “So, in the next ten minutes, I would like you to make sure that you put this out for the hotel staff. The jacket I was wearing earlier. It needs to be cleaned.”
She sputtered. “I’m going to meet the prime minister of Isolo D’Oro in these ridiculous skinny...pants...whatever they are. And now I have to do your menial chores?”
“Well, Gabby, had we decided to go with the story that you were my current mistress I would have draped you in silks. As it is, I’m going to have to drape you in my dry cleaning.”
She sniffed. “You don’t have to enjoy this so much.”
He chuckled, a darkly amused sound. “Oh, yes, I absolutely do have to enjoy this. As I told you before, I’m accustomed to making my own fun. And I’m finding this quite unexpectedly fun.”
