Читать книгу An Innocent To Tame The Italian - Tara Pammi - Страница 13

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.

Suit jacket gone, three buttons of the white dress shirt undone, that stylishly cut hair all rumpled up from his stint on her couch, he should’ve looked disheveled. At least a little tired. After all, he’d traveled across the Atlantic the previous day.

Instead, the stubble that coated his jaw and his upper lip, the V of his shirt glinting olive against the white of it, the snug fit of his trousers against lean hips—he was an erotic fantasy given form. The assault on her senses that had begun when she’d found him on her couch, trousers pulled up tight against powerful thighs, shirt equally snug against his shoulders, long lashes fanning against his sharp cheekbones... Her heart hadn’t still recovered from it.

And then while she’d stared at him like an enthralled idiot, he’d opened those gray eyes. For just a second, there had been something in his eyes. Something that made liquid desire float through her veins. Before he sat up with his ubiquitous cell phone attached to his ear.

“The jet is ready. Let’s go.”

That was all he’d said to her, before bundling her into the limo. Coffee had been acquired on the way.

When she’d refused, he’d frowned. “Drink up, Ms. Crosetto. I need you awake and alert.”

She’d tensed so hard her shoulders hurt. “Why?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you to breach the security of another company.”

She’d immediately relaxed and then cursed herself when a shrewd light dawned in his eyes. Afraid he’d see even more, more than what she’d already betrayed, she’d looked away.

“I want to know exactly how you were able to create that tunnel through the firewall. Both the first and the second time. Each and every step. I want to also know of any other ways you can breach BCS’s security. All the truth, Ms. Crosetto. Not just the convenient parts.

“If I even get a sniff of duplicity from you, you’ll wish I had sent you to prison in your own country.”

Even the wonderful aroma of coffee had felt like poison then.

The threat still ringing in her ears, she swallowed when he beckoned her from the foot of the air stairs. The arrogance of the man scraped her raw. She’d survived the cruelty and negligence of a foster care system that was supposed to protect her, the heartbreak of knowing that she wasn’t good enough, just yet, to be her younger brother’s family.

No way was she going to let Massimo Brunetti control her with the threat of incarceration. No man was going to make her live in fear every day, not after everything she’d been through. Not this easily.

And just like that, an idea began to percolate in her mind. Her shoulders straight, she tilted her chin and walked toward him with confidence.

The narrowing of his eyes made her smile.

Yep, she’d do what he asked of her, but she’d do it on her terms.

* * *

“Call the cops if you’d like. But I’m not getting on that plane. Not until you hear me out.”

Massimo disconnected his call with Leo, Natalie’s husky voice filled with determination sliding over his skin like a sensuous whisper. That same voice whispering at his ear, after a night spent in bed together, limbs heavy around each other, those dark brown eyes languid with sated desire... His imagination fired up the picture faster than he could breathe.

Dios mio, of all the women to spur this insta-lust in him...she was the worst choice.

He wanted to blame the last six months of his self-imposed celibacy for it. But then, after the fiasco with Gisela, he’d been a little bit disgusted with himself. He should’ve known better than to play with a spoiled princess.

He’d been more than a little tired of playing the same old game of chasing a woman just for sex. He had nothing more to give right now. Not at this point in his life.

And now Leonardo had informed him that Greta had been pulled into the whole mess with Gisela. His nonni had decided that Gisela would make a suitable bride for the scion of the Brunetti dynasty, that she was rich enough, sophisticated enough and blue-blooded enough to spawn the next generation of Brunettis.

Which was happening...never. But it did mean handling Gisela and, now, his nonni without giving offense to the former and hurting the second.

Of all the messes...

“Mr. Brunetti? Did you hear me? I’m not—”

He turned slowly, bracing himself. Still, the up-tilted chin and the wide brown eyes packed a punch.

This morning, she’d dressed in a light green-and-black sweater dress that hugged her slender frame, pointing out curves he’d missed last night. The loose neckline kept sliding off her shoulder showing glimpses of silky skin that beckoned his touch.

The dress ended beneath her buttocks—he’d seen enough when she’d walked ahead of him toward the limo, the knee-high leather boots displaying long legs that went on for miles. The mass of her black curls was pulled away into a tight knot at the top of her head, but in no way contained. Thick stray curls kept framing her face and she blew at them. A nervous tell that had made him smile in the limo. High forehead and a sharp nose only emphasized her gaunt face.

He frowned at the increasing appeal she held for him.

She wasn’t the lush, curvaceous beauty he usually went after. Neither was she, he was sure, the experienced type he preferred, the way she’d jumped every time he came near. Women who owned their sexual desires usually meant uncomplicated but pleasurable affairs.

Delicate collarbones jutting out, the only lush thing about her was that mouth. Collagen had nothing on those luscious lips.

She had that million-dollar look that runway models seemed to have. A fragility that, despite her very clever mind, roused a protectiveness in his chest. The last thing she deserved, given the daggers she shot at him. He’d expected her to try to change his mind this morning, sì, but not with that brash confidence she exuded just then.

“Come, Ms. Crosetto.” He gestured her back toward the limo, taking her wrist in his hand. She was truly delicate in his fingers, and they tightened instinctively. He guided her into the waiting limo and shut the door behind him. Even with the luxurious space, their knees bumped before she tucked them away.

Good, at least one of them needed to be wary of this attraction between them. “You seem to think you have a choice in this situation. My patience runs thin especially as my nonni is cooking up a scheme I abhor on the other side of the ocean.”

“Your nonni?”

“My grandmother.”

“I’ll make this quick.” She swallowed and looked up. “I’m calling your bluff.”

He smiled. “You don’t have any cards.”

She leaned back against the seat, and crossed her legs. Her dress pulled up toward her thighs and he peeked at long, taut muscles. Shamelessly. “I’ll not surrender my freedom to a stranger, a stranger moreover with the power and reach that you have, not only in your country but here, to arrange my visa at such short notice, without some security in place. God knows what you’ll do to me when—” whatever she saw in his eyes, color darkened her cheeks and she cleared her throat “—what you’ll decide for my fate. Even in the worst situations, one always has a choice.”

She roused his curiosity so easily and held it. Turned his expectations upside down. So frequently. Unlike any woman he’d ever known. “Why do you think I’ll accept any condition of yours?”

“Because you and I are alike. Hungry for new challenges. So full of arrogant belief that we’re the best there is. I knew what I was risking when I attacked your security the second time. I knew...and I still couldn’t stop. And you...you want to know how I did it. More than you want me in jail. You want to know what other weaknesses there could be in your design. You hate knowing someone better than you exists.”

“You’re not better than me.” He hated that he sounded like a juvenile teenager trying to get one over the smart girl.

She smiled and grooves dug into her cheeks. Her front two teeth were overlapped, a small imperfection that only made her face more distinct, more memorable. More lovely even. Challenge and knowledge simmered in that smile, tugging at his awareness. “Sending me to jail right now doesn’t serve your purpose. I’d rot there for who knows how long while what I was capable of doing eats away at you. So I’ll let you kidnap me, yes, but at a price.”

Laughter punched out of his mouth. Cristo, she had guts. And smarts. And a tart mouth he desperately wanted to taste right then. Humor and arousal were an unusual combination but had a languorous effect on his limbs. He ran a hand over his bristly jaw, trying to find the rationality, the reason, beneath both.

If he had any sense, he’d dump her at the nearest police station and wash his hands off.

It was what Leonardo was expecting. What the sane part of him said to do.

But he hadn’t arrived at his place in this world without taking risks. By denying his instincts. Forget also the fact that if she went to jail, all her secrets went with her.

He didn’t believe for a second that she’d only done it for the challenge. Either it was an impersonal job she took on for money, or someone she knew was deliberately targeting them.

Leonardo and he had worked too hard, for too long, to let some unknown enemy destroy everything they’d built. For now, he’d play along. Plus he’d be no kind of businessman if he didn’t use her talents to his benefit. At least in the short term. He’d just have to convince Leo of her usefulness to them.

“Bene,” he said.

In the intimacy of the leather interior, her soft gasp pinged on his nerves. Her eyes wide, she stared at him, swallowed, looked away and then back at him again. Her knuckles white against the dark leather.

Cristo, the woman blushed even when she was cornered.

He couldn’t help liking the little criminal. He knew what it was to be the weaker one against a stronger, terrifying opponent, to have no way out, the powerlessness that came with it. “State your condition.”

“You’ll pay me for any services I render, like an outside consultant.”

He raised a brow. “You’re not bargaining for me to destroy the proof of your crime?”

She shook her head. And he had a feeling it was to hide her expression. “You won’t give that up. This way, if I end up in jail, I’ll make money to show for it. During the stint, I’ll work on proving to you that I have no agenda of my own.”

“Making money for hacking my system and then more for fixing it? I was right about you.”

“If you were the computer whiz kid the world calls you, you’d have my financials in hand by now.”

“Believe me, I was tempted to find the salacious details of your criminal life last night. But my brother reminded me of the importance of doing this through official channels.

“So I ordered a background check on you. Your whole life will be in my hands in a matter of hours,” he added, making sure she understood the consequences. “Just because I accept your condition doesn’t mean I trust you. Or intend to let you get away with it forever.”

Devoid of color, her skin looked alarmingly pale against the black leather. “Is a background check necessary? All you need is to confirm that I’m dirt poor.”

He shrugged.

What else was she hiding? And how was he going to explain her presence near him, 24/7, to his family, to the world? The last time he’d been in an actual relationship had been...never. He worked hard, partied hard. For more than a decade, he’d worked sixteen-hour days, buried in his lab. Coming up only for refueling.

Brunetti Cyber Securities came first. Always would.

First because he’d needed to prove to his father that he wasn’t the runt he’d been called all his childhood. And prove himself to Leo even, because he’d been the golden son, the adored Brunetti heir at first. Because Leonardo had been everything Massimo hadn’t been able to be.

Later, when Leo had realized the extent of their father’s bullying of Massimo, he’d hated Leo’s pity, his concern for him. Resented him for thinking Massimo needed handouts, that Massimo was weak. But then success itself had become the motivator; the challenge of building better and better cyber systems had become its own drug.

The more he had, the more he’d wanted. The more he wanted his father and his family and his brother to be beholden to his company for fueling much needed funds into Brunetti Finances.

Suddenly, the answer came to him. Two problems and one solution. A tangible use of the attraction between them. An explanation for her presence with him, night and day.

He’d get her to trust him with the complete truth, then he might even take her to bed. Scratch the itch out of his system. Her innocent act would have to drop when he had the background check in his hands.

He pulled up his phone and texted his assistant waiting outside to ready a contract with all the required confidentiality clauses. Another text to notify Leo about the slight modification to his plans. “You’ll have the contract by the time we land. Under one—”

“I won’t leave without it.”

He shook his head. “Not even I can come up with a contract like that immediately. Not without having that background check in hand first.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.” He shrugged. The hiss of her breath, the filthy curse reverberating in the confined space, made his mouth twitch.

He was enjoying this—this pitting his will against hers, this anticipation in his gut as he waited to see what she’d do next. More than he enjoyed anything with a woman in a long time. Even more than sex. He frowned at the runaway thought. “I have a countercondition of my own.”

“You’re already blackmailing me, kidnapping me, threatening me with incarceration. What else is there?”

“You’ll be my partner for the duration. I’ll compensate you for that, too.”

“Partner? What kind of a partner?” Color left her cheeks, her eyes searching his. “For the last time, Mr. Brunetti, I’m not for sale. I’m not what you think—”

“Calm down, Natalie,” he interrupted her, trying her name on his tongue and liking it. Her eyes sought his in the relative dark, awareness shining through them. She hadn’t missed the intimacy of it, either. “It’s just another part of our deal, sì?”

“Explain. Now, please.”

“I have to explain your presence at my side, 24/7. I need a romantic partner for the foreseeable future. This way—”

“You’ve lost your mind. I’m not staying in Italy any longer than I have to. And I refuse to be your... Why the hell would a man like you need a pretend girlfriend?”

“A man like me?”

He grinned. She glared. “You’re supersmart, obviously given you’re one of the tech billionaires under thirty in the world. You’re—” she licked her lips then and he waited with arrested breath “—a walking, talking stud muffin. Not counting all that dynasty crap you threw at me. Why—?”

“What does a woman do with a stud muffin?”

She rolled her eyes and he laughed. “Why do you need a pretend girlfriend?”

“I was thinking a pretend fiancée actually.” Her eyes bugged and he grinned, explaining, “An ex-girlfriend that I can’t shake off and my nonni have joined forces. Believe me, it’s enough to scare a grown man.”

“So you don’t want to hurt their feelings?”

This time, when he laughed, it felt as if his chest would burst open. The minx was such a contrasting mix of street savvy and naïveté, of smarts and innocence. She’d make a hell of a distraction from the lethargy that had filled him of late when it came to women.

“Feelings, of any of the parties involved, are the least of my concern. Greta, my nonni, is extremely stubborn, and has antiquated views about the whole dynasty and its continuation and legacy and all that rot. For some unfathomable reason, apparently, she’s decided that Gisela Fiore, who comes with a fortune of her own, would be a sweet, biddable wife for me. Gisela is a mistake I shouldn’t have indulged in, and has been...problematic since I ended our purely physical relationship almost six months ago.”

For all her sass, color skimmed up Natalie’s cheeks. “Problematic how?”

“She knows my relationship patterns. She knew it was only an affair. When I retreated to my lab—refueled and ready—”

“What do you mean...refueled?”

“After every big project release, I need to fill the well, so to speak.”

“And you do this...refueling by sleeping with a woman you don’t care about?”

Her distaste made him frown. “I care about the woman’s pleasure. And mine. But, sì. Gisela knew that. Knew my pattern. I made it clear. After it was over, she started texting me a hundred times a day. She’d cry, make a scene at the few social events I attended. She flew to San Francisco and accosted me at a cyber security conference.

“Showed up outside our estate in Lake Como. Cornered my brother, Leo, at one of the events where her father was present, too.”

“And her father is someone whose feelings you do give a damn about?” she said tartly.

Massimo scowled. “Giuseppe Fiore is one of the most powerful banking tycoons in Milan, in all of Italy. BCS is in the running for a hundred-billion-euro security contract with his banks that spans a decade. Leo thinks it’s going to make dealing with him awkward because of Gisela.

“Why should a fling she came into with her eyes open cause problems for me now?”

“Because people are not algorithms that give you the same, expected results every time?”

“Once Giuseppe sees me with you, he’ll understand that Gisela and I are long over. And this is the best way for me to keep an eye on you.”

“If this tycoon’s so rich and powerful, and his daughter’s good enough to be your...whatever, why not just marry her? Or are you holding out for love?”

He stared at her, wondering if she was joking again. Steady brown eyes held his. “Tut, tut, Natalie...you disappoint me. The last thing I need in my life is a wife who wants love and all the rainbows it brings with it. I have nothing to give a wife at present. Or in the foreseeable future.

“Just do your part, sì? The compensation I provide should be big enough for you to get over your distaste for me,” he mocked.

Her nostrils flared. “And if I say no? If I tell your ex and your grandmother that it’s all a big pretense?”

“You won’t do that.”

“I just—”

“Be smart about this, Natalie.” All humor fled his tone. “If I find you’ve told me the truth about your financials, about this not being a job, then what do you have to lose? For once in your life, maybe you could use your interesting capabilities to make a living. Spend a few months in the lap of luxury in Milan. Pretend to be the fiancée of the most—”

“Arrogant, high-handed man on the planet?”

“So?”

“Fine. I agree to your conditions.”

“Bene.”

He stepped out of the limo and helped her do the same, keeping his fingers around her wrist. He liked having the feel of her in his hands, this mystery hacker who’d haunted his days and nights for weeks.

“All that’s left now is to swap our life histories and practice the intimacy we have to pretend in front of my family and the whole world.”

A pithy curse fell from her mouth and Massimo looked down at her.

She was truly the most interesting woman he’d ever met. He wouldn’t hesitate to send her to jail if he found her loyalties lay with their enemy, but he would regret it all the same.

And he didn’t understand even that negligible emotion dogging his rationality, his judgment.

It had never done so before.