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Max.
The memory of their kiss jolted her like an amusement park ride. God, it had been so hot. That forceful tongue, the way he took control of the kiss, the way he pushed up her dress and challenged her with his stare to stop him. It was everything she’d dreamed of in a sexual encounter, and of course, it had to be with the man she was done with.
Fate had a terrible sense of humor.
She added fuchsia and kept the lines bold as she painted freestyle to relax. Not that he’d mentioned the kiss or even acknowledged the evening. One week had passed and he avoided being alone with her at all costs. Her lips curved at the thought. Big, bad Maximus Gray, scared to spend too much time with innocent me.
Damned if she hadn’t given him something to think about also. There was no way she imagined that type of explosive chemistry. His erection proved his interest, but he was probably terrified Michael would kill him for taking his sister for a test drive. Coward.
The idea exploded through her head. The brush paused midair.
A one-night stand.
The image of a naked Max thrusting her to orgasm made her clench her thighs together. Why not? She had no interest in him long term, and planned to find her own man. But perhaps one night of releasing their sexual tension could help both of them. She’d be free of that silly worship she held as a girl and be able to experience her fantasy. Michael never had to know, and she’d convince Max it was just for one night. No recriminations or future or questions.
She was also much more realistic. No, she’d ripped off the blinders and planned like the woman she now was. Just one perfect, orgasm-filled night with Max and she’d be able to walk away.
She threw her head back and laughed at the possibility.
Oh, yeah. This could be fun.
Carina went back to her work with a new focus and began to plan.
Chapter Seven
Max punched the button on the intercom. “Can you get Carina in here for me, please?” He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. His skin itched. Probably from his rising temper.
She’d done it again.
The last week twisted into an unruly chain of events that pounded his temples in pain. Ever since that night he’d lost control and kissed her, his karma turned bad. Very bad. Maybe he deserved it.
He took a sip of lukewarm coffee and tried to wrap his brain around his options.
Her training started off so well. She worked tirelessly, was great at accounting, but the bottom line worried him. She sucked at management. Overall, she kind of sucked in the business world for one lousy reason.
Her heart.
The woman didn’t have a ruthless bone in her body. No matter how hard she tried to buckle down and tackle the odds and ends of running a chain of bakeries, she couldn’t seem to connect with the coldness her sister Julietta was able to connect with. When employees called out sick, she sent get-well cards and checked on them. The sales team took less than a week to discover she was an easy target. Max bet instead of chicken soup, they needed aspirin for hangovers.
Top-level management needed to be respected, and feared. Her groupie fans adored her upbeat personality, generosity, and ability to be a team player. Unfortunately, she covered too many asses and became the whole team.
The door opened.
She hurried in with one of her trademark short skirts, and the sexy prim blouse that gave him bad dreams. Ever since his insane breakdown, he’d been extra careful to keep alone time to a minimum. Not that she seemed to give their encounter a second thought. Seems their first kiss wasn’t earth-shattering after all. His bruised ego mocked him daily. Did she kiss all men like that? Was he one of many now and not worth even an embarrassed blush?
“You needed me?”
She huffed a bit and leaned one hip against the edge of the desk. The three-inch stiletto heels beckoned him to go for round two, and this time make her come. Max turned quickly as his own cheeks flushed and grabbed onto the tendril of temper.
“I thought we agreed to keep our signature dessert secret until opening.” He kept his voice hard and cold, reminding himself this was just business. “We need to build excitement and curiosity with the locals for a successful initiation. Correct?”
He glanced at her. Brows drawn in a confused frown, her toe tapped on the floor to an unknown rhythm. “Of course I remember.”
“Then why did I receive a call that Pete’s Bread Shop is now selling one of our pastries?”
She gasped. “Which one?”
“Polenta e Osci.” The moist yellow cake resembled the texture of polenta, but held a hazelnut cream filling, balanced with a dollop of apricot and elaborately chiseled chocolate birds perched on top. A staple in Bergamo, many American bakeries stayed away from the true Italian classics and stuck with the basics, which made this addition unique.
“No way.” Carina shook her head. “I spoke with Pete myself a few days ago when we went to the site. He doesn’t have the talent to make that dessert, or the proper pastry chef.”
Bingo.
Max drilled her with his gaze. “You spoke with our competitor?”
She shifted her feet. “Well, yes, he approached me to introduce himself. He was quite polite and nice and wanted to welcome us to the neighborhood.”
“I bet. Think back to your conversation. Did you tell him we were featuring that dessert?”
“Absolutely not. He was chattering about an uncle who visited Italy and loved a certain pastry and wanted to know . . .” She trailed off. A spark of pity cut through him at the sudden realization and horror on her face. “Oh, no.”
“He wanted to know the name and if we were going to serve it. Right?”
She bit her lip. “I can’t believe I fell for his ruse. He seemed so genuine. He told me his uncle was sick and would love to taste the dessert again, and I said we’d be serving it at the opening.” He waited for her to duck her head, but she met his gaze head-on. “I’m sorry. I really screwed up.”
With another employee, he would’ve ripped them apart and let them stew for a few days. He opened his mouth but causing Carina any more stress was impossible. Her raw honesty when she made a mistake only made him ache to cross the room and hug her like in the old days.
He kept his distance and his head clear. “I know.” He paused and studied her face. “Carina, do you like working here?”
She tightened her lips. “Yes. I’m sorry I messed up, but Michael’s counting on me. I’ll do better.”
