Page 74 of How Not to Mess with a Millionaire

Was he as lonely and miserable as she was? Was that the reason for his grim expression and the uncharacteristic dark circles under his eyes?

No, she thought, remembering how he had so callously dismissed her their last night in Rome. That was her hopeful heart being stupid again. Houdini must have been keeping him up at night. That was probably why he’d traveled thousands of miles to deliver the pig to her.

“Carina,” Dante repeated, an almost desperate edge to his voice. “Please, answer me.”

Great. He had asked her something, and she had no clue what it was, so mesmerized by the sight of him everything else faded into oblivion.

Not good, Zoe. Not good.

She decided to go with a tried-and-true tactic and answer his question—whatever it was—with a question. “What do you want me to say?”

“I thought—I hoped we could—”

“What?” She took a step toward him, cutting him off. As long as she stayed mad at him, she could squash any lingering feelings of lust. Or love. “Talk? Have coffee? Pick up where we left off? The answer is no, to all three.”

“I know showing up at your office like this isn’t ideal—”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

He held out his hands in a silent plea for understanding. “I had no choice. It was the only way I could think of to make sure you would see me. I knew you wouldn’t want to make a scene at work.”

“Well, you’re right about that.” She had to get him out of there. Quickly and quietly, before her boss—or, worse, their client—showed up. “But your timing sucks. I’m giving a huge presentation in a few minutes. This could make or break my career. I have to make a good impression.”

“You already have.”

“What do you mean?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m the one you’re giving the presentation to.”

It was a good thing they were in her office or she might have been tempted to do something rash. Like smack the feigned look of innocence off his face. “Tell me you’re joking.”

But deep down she knew he wasn’t. An Italian restaurant. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Dante was their client.

She stormed past him and closed the conference room door. No need for the rest of the office to hear what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation. Plus, with the door closed, she could set the now-squirming Houdini down and concentrate all her energy on dealing with Dante.

“You’re Seven Hills Enterprises?”

“For the seven hills of Rome, the site of my biggest mistake. The one I’ve crossed an ocean and two continents to remedy.”

She clenched her hands into tight fists. “Let me get this straight. Your plan was to get me to talk to you by having me waste my time designing a restaurant that doesn’t exist?”

“No,carina.” He started to reach for her but jammed his hands back into his pockets, the stink eye she was giving him no doubt making him think the better of it.

“I swear to you,” he continued, the desperate edge to his words even more pronounced than before, “the restaurant is very real. Luca and I have been looking to expand into the United States for some time. Initially, we were thinking of New York. I convinced him we were better off starting out on the West Coast. Specifically, San Francisco.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, almost as if she could create an extra layer of protection between him and her heart. “Is moving your business supposed to make up for the way you treated me in Rome?”

“I hoped it would get you to hear me out.”

“You know what?” she said, trying her hardest to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t hear the hurt—and the lie—behind her words. “You don’t owe me any explanations. We had some fun, that was all. No strings, right?”

“Wrong.” This time he didn’t hesitate to touch her, taking her by the shoulders and staring into her soul with those piercing storm-cloud eyes. “Please. Five minutes. That’s all I ask, then I’ll go. If you still want me to.”

“Fine.” With no small amount of effort, she broke away from him and took a seat, gesturing toward the end of the table, where her laptop was set up for what was supposed to be her big moment. “One of us might as well give a presentation. Although somehow I doubt you have a PowerPoint prepared.”

“I brought a pig. Doesn’t that count for anything?” His eyes scanned the room for Houdini, asleep under one of the chairs. “So much for my wingman.”

He shrugged and went where she directed him.