AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He would have to be far less of the man that he was not to imagine them wrapped around him in a hot, no-holds-barred encounter. She’d sold that particular fantasy the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her in that shoot. It was why he’d hired her—because he’d wanted to wrap that all-American sex appeal around his brand. Which didn’t mean he was going to allow her to play him like she’d clearly done so many others.
He studied the shadows beneath those glittering, dark eyes. One minute she was the brilliant businesswoman he’d seen flashes of, the next the wild child the papers liked to capture her as. And then, there were those glimpses of vulnerability he swore he saw, so fleeting they were there one minute and gone the next.
What must it have been like to grow up as a Davis? In front of America, with your entire life on display? With no buffer from the world. He couldn’t actually imagine, given the strict, traditional upbringing he’d had. Perhaps it explained her inability to make good decisions. Not helped by the fact that she’d had two of the greatest stars Hollywood had ever known as parents, notoriously emotional, dramatic personalities who couldn’t have made good role models.
Which was all inconsequential, he reminded himself. Even if she hadn’t engaged in a very public affair with Alexandre Santeval, she’d still gone along with the stunt, recklessly putting her reputation and the reputation of his brand at risk. Not an option, when he’d spent his entire career at FV attempting to pull his legacy out of the ashes and restore it to its former glory. When his grandfather, who had been both mentor and father to him after he and his sister Ilaria had lost their parents in a boating accident as teenagers, had entrusted him with the future of an Italian legend. When not one piece of his plan to reinvent FV could go wrong without the whole thing tumbling down around him like a house of cards. A pressure he went to bed with every night and woke to every morning.
He set his gaze on the woman opposite him, her dark eyes fixed on the night sky beyond the window. She was on some kind of a spiral—one he was determined to put an end to using whatever methods he deemed necessary. Because there was no way he was going to let her run helter-skelter through his life, causing more of that particular brand of mayhem she engendered. Not with everything he’d built coming to fruition at this very moment, a crucial few weeks in which he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the ball.
She was clearly incapable of taking care of herself. So he was going to have to do it for her. Even if it killed him in the process.
He worked through the next couple of hours before they landed in Milan. Jensen slept through most of the flight, waking up for the transfer to the helicopter that would fly them up to Lake Como before promptly falling asleep again, a Herculean effort given the noise in the aircraft. He let her sleep, because it looked like she hadn’t done so in weeks, waking her when they approached Villa Barberini, situated on a hill above the western shore of the lake.
Magnificent in the late-night hour, the lights from the estate spilled out onto the dark, silent water. Built by an Italian count who’d constructed the spectacular thirty-thousand-square-foot showpiece to entertain his many famous guests, it sprawled across the hill from high up in the village of Moltrasio all the way down to the lake’s shore.
Constructed of thick layers of ancient stone, the elegant cream-stuccoed villa was surrounded by magnificent gardens preserved exactly as they had been centuries ago, olive trees flourishing alongside ancient date palms and lemon trees. But most sensational of all was the view of the lake and the mountains from every vantage point on the property.
Jensen blinked in the light, rubbing her eyes with her fists. “I must look a sight.”
Cristiano eyed the full curve of her mouth, pillowy soft in the filtered light. The darkness of her sleep-softened eyes, her chestnut-colored hair spilling over her shoulders in a tumbled, silken swath. She looked exactly like the type of woman a man would want to wake up to in his bed. In an albeit spectacular fantasy. Although sleep, he conceded, a series of carnal images flashing through his head, would be the last thing on his mind.
His gaze met hers in the dim light, and he was fairly sure he hadn’t wiped the erotic images out of his head fast enough, her dark eyes widening as a current of electricity passed between them. It hung there, pulsing on the air in the intimate confines of the space, until his pilot broke the silence, announcing his intention to land.
“You look fine,” he murmured, a rough note to his voice. “You should buckle up.”
Jensen nodded, ripped her gaze from his and fumbled with the belt around her waist. When her awkward attempts to tighten it proved fruitless in the thick tension between them, he reached over and did it himself, inhaling the tantalizing scent of her perfume as he did.
She was some kind of sorceress, he thought, as the helicopter set itself down on the landing pad near the main house, whipping up the wind in the silver-leafed olive trees. Because no way was this logical thinking. It had clearly been too long since he’d slept himself.
Once it was safely on the ground, he jumped out of the helicopter, its blades still whirring a slowing pattern. Wary about Jensen’s ability to navigate the step in the darkness given her fatigue and half-asleep state, he caught her, hands around her waist, and lowered her to the ground when she misjudged the depth of the step, a smothered sound of surprise leaving her lips as she pitched forward.
“Sorry,” she breathed, the warmth of her breath skating across his cheek. “I got a bit dizzy. I haven’t slept much the past few days.”
His hand splayed across her bottom, holding her securely. He didn’t let go immediately, afraid from the way she swayed she didn’t quite have her legs underneath her. The intimate fit of her lush curves against the hard length of him did something strange to his senses. Heated his blood in a way he hadn’t felt in ages. And suddenly, those erotic images he’d envisioned waking up to replayed themselves in his head in vivid Technicolor detail. Except this time, he knew what she felt like, and he wasn’t certain it was an image he could get out of his head.
Which wasfolle, he breathed, because she was trouble, and this was the last thing he should be thinking. Moving his hand up to a more respectable position at her waist, he set her away from him. That inconvenient chemistry flared between them, dark eyes fixed on blue, smoking up the air between them for a long, infinitesimal second, before she slicked her tongue over her lips in a nervous movement and stepped back, his arm dropping away from her waist.
“Thank you,” she murmured in a husky voice. “That could have been a nasty fall.”
He doused the heat snaking through his body with a superhuman effort, becausethiswas not happening between them.Hewas here to enforce the rules. Nothing more.
“The last thing I need is you walking down the runway in a cast. It would be bad for business.” He picked up her bag along with his own, ignored the way her jaw had dropped open and carried it toward the house, where he introduced her to his housekeeper, Filomena, who had waited up for them. Introductions complete, he sent Filomena off to bed, then showed Jensen the way down the lamplit path toward her accommodations.
Located within walking distance of the main house, the small dwelling sat directly across the vibrant blue depths of a spotlit butterfly-shaped pool, fed by a waterfall that cascaded softly into the far end. Constructed of floor-to-ceiling windows that maximized the view and fully equipped with everything she would need for a multi-week stay, lamplight poured from the windows onto the sparkling surface of the water.
“The pool house,” Jensen murmured, surveying its proximity to the main villa. “You truly do mean to babysit me, don’t you?”
“Si,”he murmured, “You’ve driven me to it.”
She cocked a brow at him. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll cramp your style? What if you have a hot date?”
“I will manage.” He set her bag down on the porch and propped himself up against one of the pillars, which rose gracefully to the roof. “Here are the rules. You will remain on this property, where you will carry out whatever task my marketing team requires of you, which includes following through on the PR plan in its entirety. Someone will be by to brief you on it in the morning. Filomena will be at your disposal for anything you require while you’re here. Simply ask her, and it will be done.”
“Where is the rest of the crew staying?”
“In the cottages near the lake. If you have free time,” he continued, “you are welcome to use any of the facilities on the estate. If you swim, however, please notify a member of the staff so they can keep an eye on you. And,” he added with emphasis, “if you could keep your clothes on, it would be much appreciated. For the staff’s sake.”
And for his, to be honest.
