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“It can be reheated whenever you get hungry.” He cocked his head and grinned, raising one provocative eyebrow. Was he playing with me? I jiggled the bag, silently willing him to take it and bid us good night.
“I’m always hungry,” he said, his eyes meeting mine as he slipped the bag from my grasp. His hand brushed against mine. A surge of electricity shot through me, and I shamefully wondered,Are you hungry for me? He licked his lips, seemingly reading my wayward thoughts. I couldn’t look away, his eyes kept me captive. What power did he hold over me? What was I getting myself into with him?Nothing, Siena. Absolutely nothing. Except maybe for a little fun,a little release.I shook my head, trying to get these thoughts out of my head.
“All right, Grams.” Intense heat rose from my chest to my cheeks. I grabbed my grandmother by the hand. “Clearly Michael . . . uh, Mr. Blaire has things to do. Remember, Pops said he had a lot of work?” I needed out of here. Now.
His hungry eyes appeared to switch to a look of annoyance almost instantaneously. He cleared his throat and addressed my grandmother. “Thank you again, Sophia. Mr. Moretti told me what a fine cook you are.” He waited for what felt like forever before finally looking at me again. There was an iridescent sparkle in his eyes.
“All right, Grams,” I said again, feeling like a cat backed into the corner with nowhere to run. I tugged on her hand.
“Ms. Moretti,” he bade me farewell as he shut the door.
As I climbed back into my seat, I glanced at Michael’s door. Who was this guy? And what was he really up to?
I tried to keep my thoughts on the problem at hand. But the sound of his voice made me tremble with desire. And those eyes made my heart race.
Fuck my life.
Michael
Ichuckled to myself asI sat down on the sofa in my trailer, grabbed the beer I had just popped open, and took a swig. Things were rapidly getting more and more interesting around here.
Earlier that morning, I’d received a very curt and formal call from my father asking how things were shaping up. All I could report was that I’d be meeting with the owner of the winery. He immediately requested that I do a little more R&D about the Moretti family and look into the winery’s value because he wanted to make an offer on that too.
After meeting with Sal Moretti, I was ninety-nine percent sure he would never consider selling. I didn’t begin our conversation with the idea of buying the place outright, but when the opportunity arose, I subtly felt him out about selling. He told me the winery was a “family business” owned and operated by the Moretti family since inception and that he wasn’t willing to give it up. In the short time we’d spent together, I could see how much the place meant to him. But my father genuinely believed everyone and everything could be bought—for the right price. I asked about the area that was partially destroyed from the fire, and, after Sal told me it’d take a lot of funding to recoup the loss, I offered to buy that portion if he was interested.
I hoped that maybe, just maybe, getting additional land would be good enough for Allan Blaire. I wasn’t looking forward to delivering that bit of news. At all.
Then there was Siena. One look into those hazel orbs and I knew I wanted her. Just my luck, she turned out to be the granddaughter of the man I’d have to build a working relationship with. The man I knew my father was going to want me to grind down to the stump until he conceded to sell.
I couldn’t figure out if it was sheer dumb luck or some fucked-up twist of fate that had brought me here. It wasn’t like I had to deal with Siena Moretti directly, but after meeting her and hearing what she had to say about my father and his hotels—and me—I didn’t think I’d be able to steer clear of her.
She was a shit talker, that was for sure. And although she wasn’t that far off base about my father or his hotels, she had jumped to conclusions about me way too fast. She’d made up her mind before ever laying eyes on us. I didn’t know if I could blame her, but she had hit a chord inside me that I didn’t particularly like having struck, especially by a total stranger.
There were people in the business world, people I had met and dealt with, and even many whom I hadn’t, who I knew vehemently disliked my father and his tyrannical ways. Many times, I couldn’t help but agree with them. But this was business. And if there was one thing my father taught me, it was that, in business, sometimes you had to be the shark and not the bait.
I had kept my calm after listening to Siena berate my father and me. I had kept my head level and cool. At first, I was seriously amused by her. I thought she was funny, spunky, and feisty. Something about her attitude got my attention. Her energy called to me, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was incredibly beautiful. I had kept my staring, and the eye-fucking, well hidden. One look at her though, and I couldn’t help myself. There was some kind of serious pull. At least on my end.
Honestly, all I had wanted to do was introduce myself to Mr. Moretti and to let him know what I’d be doing over the next several months. Sal, as he insisted I call him, was truly down to earth and easy to talk to. Siena, on the other hand, was a fighter, and I didn’t know yet if this battle of wills was going to be fun, entertaining, and exhilarating... or a royal pain in my ass.
Sal had invited me over for dinner that evening, presenting the invitation under the guise of meeting his wife and partner, Sophia, but I didn’t know if that was truly the reason or if he was setting me up for another inquisition by Siena. It wasn’t that I was afraid. I just had more pressing things to deal with regarding the hotel.
I regretted declining the invitation after looking in my minifridge. Beer, beer, and more beer. In the cupboards, coffee and some crackers. If I was going to live and work out of this shoebox, I’d have to get at least some food that would sustain me through the long and tedious hours and months—dear God, please not years—ahead of me.
I found myself sitting at the table, rubbing my temples, and contemplating whether I should go out and try to scour something up for dinner or just stuff a bunch of crackers down my throat and call it a night. After taking another look at my food options, I grabbed a beer and sat down on the tiny excuse of a couch in the sitting area. At six foot one, the firm and unforgiving sofa wasn’t exactly the most inviting or even comfortable option. Nothing in this tiny excuse of a trailer was comfortable. But I guess when you’re being paid the big bucks, you have to just suck it up.
I tried calculating the timeframe in my head. How long would I have to be out here living like a goddamned sardine? Much too long. There was no knowing when the job would be finished. Something always came up when building something new: unreliable contractors, wrong materials being delivered, damaged inventory, sucky crewmen, shitty workers. The list went on and on.
I sat up, trying to accept the inevitable: I’d have to stick it out because I had no choice. Business was business. And this was my job.
I had just popped the top of my beer when I heard a car. I didn’t know who in the hell would be out here this time of night. I listened for the car to circle around and leave. Instead, I heard two doors shut, then a brisk knock at my door.
As luck would have it, it had been Sophia Moretti, a sweet, petite, beautiful woman, bringing me dinner. And apparently, luck was going to strike me twice today. I decided to accept fate’s little twist in tonight’s agenda. It seemed I didn’t have a choice here either—our paths were destined to intertwine. Sophia had brought her granddaughter along.
I couldn’t help but flirt. It came naturally to me. Flirting with a beautiful woman was just part of who I am, and the idea of making Siena squirm, seeing how she reacted to me, was just too good an opportunity to pass up. I got a reaction all right. I could see it in her eyes: the slight dilation and the big doe-eyed look that crossed her face. It was what I’d been shooting for. Even if she did more-than-slightly despise my father, and even if she was trying to derail our hotel plans, there was enough of a response to see there was something between us. She was like a deer caught in the headlights of my rented Mercedes. This was going to be a challenging game for both of us. The only question:Who was going to come out the victor?
Life certainly had a crazy way of twisting and turning. Fate?Maybe. Destiny?Perhaps. Or maybe life was just warming up its throwing arm to pitch me a healthy serving of kick-me-in-the-ass karma? Fuck if I knew. But what I did know was that I would enjoy the ride as much as I could as long as I was stuck here.
My phone rang.Shit. It was my dad. He was going to be pissed when I told him that he wouldn’t get the winery. I didn’t want to deal with him right now, but knew he’d just keep calling if I didn’t answer. I took another swig and settled into the cushions, knowing the conversation wasn’t going to go in my favor. As usual.
