An Innocent To Tame The Italian

* * *

“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.

CHAPTER FOUR

AFTER A TRANSATLANTIC flight to Milan with a creative genius who peppered her with a million incisive questions meant to unsettle her lies. Throwing in a magnificent view of white-tipped Alps, which she’d probably never see again in her life—except maybe on the return flight on her way to jail in New York. Then a quick helicopter ride up to the shores of Lake Como—because, of course, the once-in-a-lifetime scenic drive from Milan to the lake would take forever and time was a precious commodity to a tech billionaire. Finally arriving at a destination where she was nothing but a prisoner, Natalie foolishly assumed she would become oblivious to her surroundings—not the man, of course—or at least be too exhausted mentally and physically to take much more in.

She was wrong.

The chopper landed on the side of a hill, in a sea of lush, perfectly manicured gardens with azaleas and gigantic rhododendrons and a long avenue of tall plane trees that created a walkway to the lakefront. A small boat floated at the end of the steps. Beyond, the calm waters of Lake Como glittered like a dark blanket creating a stunning sight littered with boats of various sizes floating lazily to the gorgeously lit-up houses and villages scattered about.

As Natalie followed Massimo, who seemed to have forgotten about her existence, amid carefully sculpted flower beds, she spotted a hidden cave enclosed by more azaleas and even an artificial Japanese-style pond.

“Your family owns this villa?” she said, her breath catching in her throat.

Massimo stopped, took a look around absentmindedly and then turned to her. “Sì. One of the Brunettis, a count or a duke, maybe, I think in the nineteenth century, took possession of a Benedictine monastery in these grounds and converted it into a sumptuous noble residence. It’s been in the family’s possession ever since. Greta will cram a history lesson down your throat if she catches you staring at it like that.”

Even his mockery couldn’t fracture the awe in her chest. Fountains with water glittering out like liquid gold because of strategically placed lights, a gazebo with creepers enveloping it, two statues of majestic lions at the sides of the carriage entrance... How could he sound so dismissive and unaffected by his family’s legacy? “I’ve never seen such beautiful gardens.”

“You’d love it in spring when they’re a riot of color. They’re Leonardo’s pride. He personally tends to them along with a team of gardeners. He can make the most reluctant plant blossom. He...loves the land and the villa and the...legacy of it all.”

She was out of breath as they walked up the small, steep path while he simply marched on. “You don’t?” she asked, something in his tone snagging her attention.

“I like being the one who saved it, the one who held it for the Brunettis so that they could show it off for another century,” he added mysteriously.

She frowned, wondering at the contradictions of the man.

Finally, they came around the bend to a square plot that housed the villa itself. A grand entrance portico with wide stairs that sloped toward the lake straddled the villa, which would offer three-sixty-degree views of the lake and the mountains from the grand terrace even now overflowing with guests.

The white stucco facade gleamed under the light thrown from the lake. Nat sucked in a breath as the sounds of music and people chatting in Italian flowed over her skin. A line of luxury cars stood like gatekeepers, tasked with keeping riffraff, like her, out.

She shivered even though the wind coming off the lake was more balmy than cold. Cicadas whispered all around them, the scents from the orangery they’d walked by thick and pungent in the air.

It was a world away from Brooklyn and her cheap studio apartment, a world away from everything she’d ever known.

Through the high arched front entrance, she could see suave men dressed in black suits and refined women dressed in cocktail finery with diamonds glittering at their throats and wrists. Uniformed waiters passing around champagne flutes so fine that Nat wondered if they’d break at the slightest pressure.

She rubbed her sweating palms on her hips, which only brought her attention to her own outfit. A thread of shame filled her chest and she chased it away with much needed anger. God, she’d worked hard for every small thing she owned. To make an honest living for herself and for Frankie.

She felt the heat of Massimo’s body next to her, before she heard the curse from his mouth. Frowning, she craned her neck to see him. Flashes of light revealed the tension in his brow, that perfectly carved jaw so tight that it almost seemed fragile. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was no more inclined to go in than she was.

The suavely sophisticated man who’d taunted her was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a stranger with tension thrumming tightly through his lean frame.

“Massimo?” she whispered, unable to stem the concern she heard in her voice. “Is something wrong?”

“My father is here,” he answered softly, before he blew out another soft curse and shook his head. “He is a bully of the worst kind.”

“Must run in the family, then,” she quipped.

“No.” His soft denial was emphatic enough that her head jerked to him. Glittering gray eyes held hers. “I’m nothing like my father.” He rubbed his jaw, a tell she was beginning to recognize he did when stressed. “Dios mio, I forgot it’s his birthday week. That means Greta checks him out of the rehabilitation clinic and parades him in front of our family and friends in an annual tradition. That means—” his gaze swung to the luxury vehicles “—everyone is here.”

“Your father lives at a clinic?” She’d gotten the sense from him that family was important to him. Yet, he stared at his family’s villa like it was a nest of vipers.

“He’s a recovering alcoholic. The recovery, if we can call it that, has been in progress for a decade now. Leonardo put him there years ago. My brother...he’s the best at eliminating anything that could damage our name, our business. Our legacy.”

The bitterness in his words was unmistakable. “What do you mean your grandmother parades him?”

“You didn’t get the sordid Brunetti history online before you attacked BCS?”

The man changed skins as easily as a chameleon—one minute a charming rogue, the next a cunning businessman determined to make her spill her secrets against her own best interests. “I told you, I knew nothing about who and what you are.”

Hesitation flickered in his eyes, before he cast another glance toward the villa. “If you’re to be exposed to them... My father, for most of my childhood, went on alcohol-fueled rampages. He embezzled funds from the company account for his personal use. Affairs with numerous women—both willing and unwilling—lavish parties at the villa... Think of it as a decades-long, out-of-control party that Greta turned away from.

“By the time his misuse of company funds and resources came to Leonardo’s notice, Brunetti Finances, which had once been the leading finance giant in all of Italy, had been on the verge of bankruptcy. A dynasty reduced to nothing but a deck of cards standing on quicksand.