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He would keep the bank’s name, Stafford-Coleridge-Black, intact.
In fact, he’d almost said so yesterday in hopes of avoiding this morning’s meeting, but he suspected that giving in without at least a small battle would only make Black ask for something more.
So he’d agreed to today’s meeting, which had meant spending another night in the city.
Another night plagued by memories of how he’d let a woman make a fool of him.
Dio, how ridiculous he was! He’d had a night of sex—the best sex of his life, and that was saying a great deal. A night of fantastic sex, with no morning-after to deal with. No female batting her lashes over coffee, telling him how wonderful he was, asking when she would see him again.
Ask half a dozen men what was wrong with that scenario and they’d laugh and say there wasn’t a thing wrong with it.
Mind-blowing sex. No names. No commitment. A man’s fantasy.
Then why was it driving him insane, that she’d left his bed while he slept? Why should it bother him?
He still winced when he recalled how he’d gone searching for her in the hall. Made a fool of himself with the elevator operator, the night clerk. Taken a cab to that damned club and demanded answers.
Embarrassing? A little…
Hell. A lot.
A woman should not be the one who walked out of a relationship. Even if that “relationship” only lasted a few hours. Yes, he knew all about the Age of Equality but a woman had never walked out on him, not under any circumstances.
This one had, and he didn’t like it.
That was why she was in his head, even now. Even when he was about to complete a deal he’d worked on, dreamed of, for years. Instead of concentrating on it, he was thinking about a woman who—
“Prince Barbieri?”
Who should consider herself fortunate he’d had no way to locate her because if he had—
“Prince Barbieri. Sir? If you please—”
“Si,” Nicolo said, and cleared his throat. “Are you ready to begin? I was, ah, I was just reading through my notes, and—”
And, he looked up.
The world tilted.
The woman with the violet eyes was standing in the doorway staring at him just as he was staring at her, as if one of them was an apparition.
He saw the color drain from her face. Saw her mouth drop open. Saw the swift rise and fall of her breasts beneath the jacket of a demure blue suit.
“Demure” was the word for her, all right. Whoever she was, whatever she was doing here, today she was playing the part of a virgin.
A muscle knotted in Nicolo’s jaw.
He shoved back his chair. Rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving her. She took a quick step back. Her lips formed a silent plea.
No!
He forgot everything. The boardroom. The old man. The deal he’d worked so long to finalize.
“Yes,” he said grimly. “Oh, most definitely yes, cara!”
She shook her head. Stumbled back another step…
“Do you two know each other?” Black asked.
