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If anything, the atmosphere grew more charged. A little bewildered, Giada glance at him. His gaze was fixed ahead, his hands curled around the steering wheel in an easy grip that didn’t disguise his tension as they stopped at another red light.
‘Including the charming Jean-Luc?’ The question was snipped and chilled, the gaze he now directed to her face narrowed with irritation. ‘You seem intimate with him.’
Surprise spiked her eyebrows. ‘Who? Jean-Luc?’
His hot, probing gaze rested on her, his mouth a thin, formidable line.
Giada shrugged. ‘I only met him a few days ago.’
His gaze remained on her. Narrowed. She curbed the urge to squirm. ‘I don’t even know his last name. I find that’s the minimum basic requirement for someone I choose to sleep with.’
Dear God, why had she said that?
Something shifted in his eyes. Satisfaction? Triumph?
But even when the lights turned green and his gaze returned to the road the intensity remained, cranking up until it took complete hold of her.
‘We’re going to Gris-Montana,’ he finally delivered.
That ended their conversation for the rest of the journey. She told herself to be thankful as they turned onto a lane markedPropriété Privée.
For the last twenty minutes they’d steadily climbed the mountain the area was named after, the accumulation of snow on the treetops and the landscape giving breathtaking white views as far as the eye could see.
But she couldn’t stop the butterflies flapping their wings harder in her belly as the chalet came into view.
Giada couldn’t suppress her gasp when she saw the structure. Partly lit by the surrounding white landscape, partly by strategically placed lights, the chalet was huge and golden and so magnificent she couldn’t stop staring at it.
Made entirely of what looked like treated cedar logs, it soared against a backdrop of a snow-white mountain, a warm beacon in an otherwise chilly landscape. Wide windows broke the layers of wood and snow-topped slanting roof and, above it, a chimney sent out tufts of smoke into the sky.
It was picture-perfect and remote in the way only the super-rich could afford. The thought sent another dart of alarm through her.
Suppressing it, she turned to find Alessio examining her with the same intensity with which she’d just examined his chalet. A sardonic look followed the scrutiny, but he didn’t say anything as he shoved his door open and came around to open hers.
Again, Giada was struck by his chivalry.
Again, she cautioned herself that it meant nothing.
In fact, everything she’d learned about Alessio Montaldi so far indicated that he was the kind of man who would smile and offer you your dreams on a silver platter...right before he destroyed you.
She stepped out, pulling the coat firmer around her when the freezing wind sent a chill through her. She realised she still wore his coat, and her gaze darted to him but he was walking away, her suitcase firmly in his hand.
She followed gingerly, cursing herself for not changing into the sturdy boots she’d brought. Then she reminded herself that she was playing a role. One that didn’t feature sturdy work boots more suited to trudging through Antarctic snow running after penguins.
The wide breadth of his shoulders blocking the doorway stopped her from seeing the whole room save for the rich rugs that covered the polished wood floors, an opulent painting here and sumptuous velvet sofa there, until Alessio stepped aside to shut the wide door behind them.
Confronted with the floor-to-ceiling window and seeing the splendour of the snow-covered tall pines rising like giant white needles into the sky behind the chalet, Giada stopped in her tracks.
‘Oh, my God, this is amazing!’ The words slipped out before she could stop them. Then to cover the unguarded gushing, she hurriedly continued, ‘You must love waking up to a view like this every morning?’
His shrug was cold and unaffected. ‘It’s a good place to own in my line of business but I rarely come here.’ He turned away and headed down a hallway that opened into another small foyer, before pausing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the first floor. ‘And small talk won’t be necessary, Gigi. Neither will pandering to my ego aid your cause.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘You’re annoyed with me. I get it. But surely, this would go more pleasantly if we made an effort to get along?’
For a moment he seemed stunned.
Then his face clouded over and the cynical amusement returned as he folded thick arms across his chest. ‘Keep telling yourself that if you need to. You may think you hold a hand worth bluffing with but understand this—thingswillgo my way eventually. How long you’re willing to keep up this game is entirely up to you.’ He looked past her and nodded. Only then did Giada see the formally dressed butler waiting discreetly a few feet away. ‘Johan will show you up to your room. Come and find me in the study in fifteen minutes. We’ll begin with your first task then.’
Alessio stood at the wide window in his study, irritation biting greedily at his mood. Itwasirritation, he assured himself. Any other emotion was unacceptable because that would mean he was affected by his unwanted guest. And he absolutely refused to accommodate that. Refused to assess the dash of pleasure he’d felt from witnessing her unabashed appreciation for the very view he was staring at now. The view that had swayed him into buying this chalet.
