Once A Playboy...: Resisting the Sicilian Playboy / Her Playboy's Proposal / The Playboy's Proposal
a moment before speaking. ‘Did it disappoint you to find I am exactly like him after all?’
‘If you were like him you wouldn’t have walked away from an inheritance worth billions twelve years ago and then have the nerve to do it all again the first chance you got. Vittorio Valente would turn in his grave, knowing his entire corporation is in pieces.’
‘My father made his choices and died with the consequences.’
Beautiful green eyes flashed into Leo’s mind, along with a face filled with youth and vitality—his mother’s face...a face he hadn’t thought of in twelve years. He brushed it away, refusing to let the memory surface.
Gianni frowned. ‘Don’t let the memory of a ghost haunt you for ever. You are a good man, Leo, but you’re heading down a lonely path.’
‘Have you been reading those gossip magazines?’ He chuckled. ‘I’m perfectly content to work hard and play harder for the time being.’ He leaned back in his seat, stretching his neck muscles in an effort to relieve the painful ache in his temples.
‘I was married for thirty-five years. And look at me now. A lonely widower, living in my own hotel suites like a damned salesman.’ Gianni took another slug of grappa, his eyes twinkling suspiciously. ‘But my wife gave me three sons. A man should always have his own sons to carry on his legacy.’
‘Some day, maybe.’ Leo shrugged.
The thought of settling down wasn’t unappealing. He just wasn’t cut out for that kind of lifestyle. He could be needed anywhere around the world from one day to the next. He never stayed in one place long enough to set down roots. And besides, roots held you down, trapped you in one place. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand it was feeling trapped.
He shook off the unwelcome thought, watching as Gianni visibly ogled a passing brunette.
‘Maybe I should follow your lead and find myself some of those supermodels.’ Gianni chuckled under his breath.
‘Ah, they don’t eat enough,’ Leo jibed, and the sudden memory of Dara and her delicious lips as she ate stormed his thoughts.
‘You never drank like a true Sicilian. Whisky is for Westerners.’
‘You’re still as politically incorrect as I remember.’ Leo smiled.
The old man looked away for a moment. His expression was filled with sadness. ‘You should have come to me, Leonardo. You always came to me.’
He looked confused, making him look every inch his seventy years. For the very first time Leo realised that the great dragon wasn’t going to live for ever. The thought left an uncomfortable knot in his stomach.
He glanced across the lounge, wanting to end this conversation. Raking up the past did nothing for his temper.
A flurry of movement drew his eyes towards the edge of the lounge just as the loudest politician stopped speaking mid-sentence and pointed towards the tall blonde gracefully ascending the stairs.
She wasn’t wearing the red dress. He almost wished she was. The dress he had chosen for her was deliberately risqué and playful—an attempt to take her out of her comfort zone. What she wore in its place was temptation personified.
A second skin of shimmering jewelled gold.
It fitted each curve so tightly it might as well have been painted on. He felt heat rush through his veins as he stood slowly, and their eyes met as she came to a stop by the bar. Raising one eyebrow, she made it clear he was going to have to come to her.
Gianni followed his gaze with interest. ‘That one could freeze hell with those eyes. Finally you’ve found a real woman, eh?’
Leo heard Gianni chuckle loudly behind him, but he was already across the lounge in a few long strides.
She smiled sweetly as he came to a stop in front of her. ‘My apologies for being late. It seemed to take quite a long time to make me look presentable.’
‘You changed the dress.’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘Is there something wrong with this one?’
He resisted the urge to run his gaze down her wicked curves again. The dress wasn’t indecent, by any means, in fact by some standards it was almost modest. Small delicate sleeves stopped just at the shoulder and the neckline swooped gracefully along her collarbone. It was just that it hugged every delicious curve of her body—a body he was trying very hard to ignore at this moment.
‘I decided your choice wasn’t appropriate for this evening.’
She turned slightly and his throat went dry. The dress was sinfully low-cut at the back, leaving the graceful curve of her spine completely bare for everyone to see.
He coughed, clearing his throat. ‘It wasn’t a request, Dara. I thought you would understand that.’
Dara stepped closer, her voice lowered to a dangerous whisper. ‘I’m confused. At any point during our meeting this afternoon did I indicate that I have difficulty in choosing my own clothing?’ She raised one sleek blonde brow.
‘You were unprepared for the formal dress code tonight. I was ensuring that you’d fit the part of my event planner.’
‘Temporary consultant,’ she corrected. ‘Out of interest, do you ensure that all of your potential business partners have the opportunity to bare their cleavage?’
Leo floundered at that question. This was not going to plan at all.
Just then a familiar voice came from behind his left shoulder.
‘Leonardo, are you going to introduce me to this beautiful creature?’
He turned to see Gianni, his watery brown eyes twinkling with amusement.
Leo closed his mouth and turned to the man, a playful glint in his eye. ‘I was planning to keep her away from you as a matter of fact.’
‘She looks like she’s planning to keep away from you too.’ He chuckled, extending a hand. ‘Gianni Marcello. I don’t think we’ve met.’
Dara stepped forward and politely introduced herself, all trace of hostility gone from her face.
‘Dara is my event planner,’ Leo explained casually.
‘Actually, I’m just here for tonight,’ she corrected, with a swift glance in his direction. ‘Leo is in the process of negotiating with my company.’
‘A businesswoman!’ Gianni exclaimed, clapping his hands together with glee. ‘Thank goodness he’s found someone who can actually hold a conversation in company.’
Dara had opened her mouth to correct him when they were suddenly interrupted by the club manager.
After a low murmured conversation with the man Leo turned back to them apologetically. ‘It seems that it is time for the host to officiate,’ he explained. ‘Try not to bore her with your business talk.’
* * *
‘He is quite the charmer, isn’t he?’
Dara stopped watching Leo making his way across the floor below and turned to find the older man, Gianni, watching her with interest.
‘I gave him his first job, you know. Tending bar in my flagship hotel in Paris. Now look at him—drinking champagne with supermodels.’ He chuckled.
‘You own the Marcello Hotel chain?’
‘I do.’ He smiled. ‘But as far as work goes, my children do that now. I’m just enjoying my golden years in the town that made me.’
‘Were you born here in Milan?’ she asked.
‘I was born and raised in Bella Sicilia.’ He smiled again, eyes twinkling. ‘Business brought me to the industrial north. I opened my first hotel here forty-five years ago.’
‘The