Page 41 of How Not to Mess with a Millionaire

“Thanks.” She rose to join him, and they started to make their way out of the office, smiling sympathetically at the handful of disgruntled stragglers on their phones, still desperately trying to find accommodations for the night. They had almost reached the door when she stopped suddenly.

“Crap.”

Dante made a quick spin move worthy of an NFL linebacker to avoid running into her. “What is it?”

“Houdini. We can’t leave him alone overnight.”

“We won’t. My grandmother will stay with him.”

“Are you sure?” Zoe bit her lip. “Doesn’t she have somewhere to get back to?”

“She’ll be more than happy to take care of the pig if it means we’re stuck together on Capri. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d think she engineered this whole thing. But as much as Nonna likes to meddle, even she can’t control the weather.”

“She’ll need to know his bedtime ritual.”

Dante’s eyebrows lifted. “A pig has a bedtime ritual?”

“He’s not used to sleeping in his crate yet. It helps if you lie next to him and pet him until he dozes off.”

Dante chuckled. “I wish I could see my grandmother’s face when you tell her she has to lie down with swine.”

“All she has to do is snuggle him for a few minutes. It’s kind of sweet, actually. He—”

“You can tell me about it at the hotel. And we can call my grandmother. We need to head out before the weather gets worse.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Not the one she would have preferred if she had her choice of all the possible plans in the planning universe. She still had the prospect of a night in bed with a man she’d seen naked, sucked face with, and secretly jilled off to looming in front of her like a dark shadow. But she pulled up her big-girl panties—panties that were going to stay on, literally and figuratively, until she was back in her own bedroom at Bella Vista, thank you very much—pasted on an I’m-totally-cool-with-this smile, and pushed the door open, standing back to let him through first.

“Lead the way.”

Chapter Nine

“Welcome to Le Palazzo di Mare. How can I help you?”

The front desk clerk’s eyes were glued to Zoe’s chest. Dante might as well have been a tree stump for all the attention he received. Not that he blamed the guy. Zoe’s rack was impressive in normal conditions. But with her sundress plastered to her skin courtesy of the downpour that had started two blocks from the hotel, it was spectacular, full and lush, the outline of her dusky nipples clearly visible through the damp fabric.

First Gianni, now some random desk clerk at their hotel. Was every man they met going to leer at her? And was this unreasonable, uncontrollable jealousy going to rise in him like a flash flood every time one did?

If it was, Dante was powerless to fight it. He snaked a possessive arm around Zoe’s shoulders, pulling her to his side. He might not blame the guy for looking, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Or stand by idly while some stranger ogled his—

His what? His tenant? His roommate? Hell, until a few days ago, they’d been sworn enemies, playing a sick, twisted game of chicken to see who would back down first and leave Bella Vista.

But then he’d kissed her. And everything had changed.

The object of his desire let out a little squawk and looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes, but to his relief she didn’t pull away. Emboldened, he drew her more tightly to him, her soft, round curves melding to his hard edges.

“We have a reservation,” he growled at the clerk through gritted teeth. “Sabbatini.”

“SignoraBianchi’s friend. We’ve been expecting you.” The clerk was paying attention to him now, all right, practically falling all over himself to make up for his earlier slight. It was nice to know people in high places. Like Francesca Bianchi, the part owner and general manager of one of Capri’s most exclusive five-star hotels.

The clerk punched a few keys on his computer and slid an envelope with two plastic cards tucked inside across the counter. “Here you are, sir. One of our best rooms. A sea view suite.SignoraBianchi insisted. She sends her regrets, but she was called away to deal with a situation in the kitchen.”

Zoe’s eyes went from wide and questioning to narrowed and suspicious. “I thought the hotel was full.”

“It is,” the clerk assured her. “SignoraBianchi did some shuffling to make sure you were well taken care of.”

“We need dry clothes,” Dante snapped, not ready to forgive the poor sap for lusting after Zoe.

“You’ll find two Turkish cotton bathrobes in your en suite bathroom. I’ll have housekeeping come up for your wet clothes. They’ll be laundered and returned to you as soon as possible.”