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She’d never met a man like him before. Her own father was so far from that type of man it was laughable, the way he’d abandoned their family without a backward glance, leaving her mother devastated and in tatters. It made her wonder, just for a second, what it would be like to be wanted by someone like him—someone so strong and honorable. Not just physically, because she knew they shared that devastating chemistry. Butemotionally. Unconditionally.
How safe you would feel. How buffeted against the world. She imagined it would feel...life-changing.
But he wasn’t hers to have. He would eventually be someone else’s. And that, she had to keep reminding herself of.
He picked up the two glasses and handed her one.
She wrapped her fingers around the glass. Cocked a brow. “Champagne?”
“I thought we could celebrate wrapping the campaign. You did a spectacular job on it.Grazie mille, Jensen.”
His rich, deep voice, laced with that undeniably sexy, husky accent warmed something deep inside her. And it wasn’t all professional pride, because she was sure he didn’t celebrate like this with all his employees.Thiswas something else entirely.
She shrugged a shoulder, attempting a nonchalance she didn’t remotely feel. “I was just doing my job. Working with Pascal and Claudio was a dream. I’m the lucky one.”
“Well, you were brilliant,” he murmured. “The marketing team is over the moon. Not to mention the assistance you’ve been with Federico. We pulled the Kyra campaign and showed it to him. He was very impressed. So much so that he is warming to the idea of allowing Nicholas some creative control. Which is a much more flexible stance than he’s had thus far.”
“That’s great.” She was happy her advice had helped. “I knew he would like that campaign.”
“He did. Ilaria,” he added, “is also ecstatic with your buzz campaign for the anniversary party.Saluti,” he murmured, lifting his glass. “To all of your hard work.”
She raised her glass, attempting to control the wild butterflies beating circular tracks through her stomach. “Aren’t you afraid I might get wild?” she quipped, in an attempt to break the intensity between them. “Out ofcontrol?”
His sapphire gaze darkened with amusement. “I’m not so sure about that depiction of you anymore. You were drinking soda water at the party. Nor have you drunk much of anything on any social occasion we’ve attended since you’ve been here. Which leads me to believe thatpartyingmight not be your natural state of existence.”
Her lashes drifted down, shielding her from his inscrutable assessment. “And what do you think is?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I think it’s buried somewhere beneath those numerous impenetrable layers of yours. Those pieces of you that you refuse to show the world. You are so much more than that, Jensen.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed with a self-conscious shrug. “And perhaps there isn’t that much more to tell.”
“I think there is.” He levered himself away from the wall with the push of a powerful bicep, propelling himself to within an inch or two of her. She felt a rush of blood in her ears as the force of the attraction between them roared to life, the heat of his muscular body so close she could feel it emanating from him.
“You are a brilliant marketer,” he observed, his eyes on hers. “You have an innate talent.Incredible instincts.You could run my marketing department with the tip of your baby finger. And yet to my knowledge, you have no formal education in business.”
She shook her head. “I am self-taught. Marketing always fascinated me, right from the beginning. I would study how people reacted to the things I would post. Pinpoint the best ones, study the messaging and learn how to replicate that success.” She hiked a shoulder. “It came from a genuine place within me, I think that was the key. I loved fashion. I loved helping other people find their own. People picked up on that and followed me.”
He cocked a dark brow at her. “And yet you persist in allowing the world to believe that you are a glamorous party girl and nothing more.”
“That’s my brand,” she corrected. “It sells your clothes, Cristiano. Young girls want to be that glamorous icon.”
“Yet we have no idea what’s underneath,” he said softly. “Who the real Jensen is. I wonder what the truth is?”
“A mixture of both,” she answered honestly. “I’m not so difficult to figure out. I wouldn’t overthink it.”
His mouth curved. “There you go again, avoiding the subject.” He pointed his glass at her. “Perhaps we can try another.”
“Which is?”
“I would like to discuss what happened in the kitchen.”
Oh no.No.They didnotneed to do that. “I think we should ignore it,” she proposed firmly. “It’s been working great so far.”
“No, it hasn’t,” he murmured. “I think we both know that. I think we need to address it, Jensen.”
Her throat seized. “A-address it?” she stammered, when she’d finally yanked in some air. “What do you mean?”
“Confront it,” he said softly. “Face it. Deal with it. This thing between us isn’t going away. It’s only getting worse. And I, for one, am done fighting it.”
