Once A Playboy...: Resisting the Sicilian Playboy / Her Playboy's Proposal / The Playboy's Proposal
top floor there.’
She smiled back. ‘I love the branding of your chain. “New city, old friends”.’
‘That tagline is probably the only part of my original work that still lives on.’ He tutted. ‘Young people want to make everything modern.’
Dara nodded in agreement. The old man was nice. He had a cantankerous warmth about him that made her feel instantly comfortable.
The champagne hour was going well, she thought as she looked down across the crowd of Milan’s glittering elite. All here to be photographed for the society pages, no doubt. Soon the lights would dim and the official event would fade into the background, allowing them to use the club for its true purpose. Privacy, anonymity and sin.
The music was lowered and a tinkling sound resonated through the air. Dara looked down to see that Leo had moved up to the small stage erected in the middle of the dance floor. Gianni took her elbow and they made their way down to the lower floor as Leo began speaking.
He began to outline the concept of the club’s renovation, explaining the fluid lines and mirrored backdrops. Gianni made a few more tutting noises beside her, commenting that it had been fine just the way it was.
Leo smiled brightly, ever the charismatic host, and he finished by thanking his team of staff in detail for their support.
‘Finally, I have the greatest pleasure to introduce you all to a rising star in the industry—Miss Dara Devlin.’
To her horror he pointed her out in the crowd and she suddenly became the focus of three hundred curious stares.
What was he thinking? She was a nobody here. These people were looking at her as though expecting her to burst into song.
Leo smiled, oblivious to her horror. ‘Miss Devlin is a recent discovery of mine, she is a rare creative talent in the industry. Such is her dedication to detail, she even gave the Platinum uniform a facelift to fit with our new theme.’
The crowd gave subdued applause, curious eyes glancing from the scarlet-faced event planner to the now very sleek waiters walking around all in black. Dara prayed for him to move on to another topic, breathing a sigh of relief when he began to wrap up the speech.
Gianni raised his brows beside her, seemingly quite entertained by the proceedings. ‘He seems quite taken with you, carina.’ He smiled.
Dara straightened her shoulders, trying in vain to dispel the heat from her cheeks. ‘Mr Valente is a very successful man. I’m grateful to be working with him.’ She took a sip from her cool soda water, feeling it hit her painfully dry throat.
‘You are quite naive if you think he’s just thinking about work.’ His eyes twinkled.
Dara ignored the uncomfortable sensation in her stomach at his words. Leo was taking her seriously, now that she had proved her talent. There was a playful tension between them, of course, but she had no plans to act on it. Not at all.
She decided to ignore Gianni’s comment, straightening her shoulders and saying, ‘Actually, I’m negotiating an event contract for Castello Bellamo.’
The old man stilled, clearly taken by surprise with that information. Dara waited for him to speak, but he remained silent. Thinking it best to give him a moment, she looked out across the dance floor. Leo had just stepped down from the podium and began conversing with a group of men in sleek suits.
She looked down and saw that his eyes were trained on her even as he spoke. He was watching her intently, his green gaze seeming to reach across the dance floor to her. She should look away. She should restart her conversation with Gianni—something.
She turned back to see Gianni watching Leo with the most ferocious expression she had ever seen. ‘Mr Marcello, is everything okay?’ she asked tentatively.
‘He’s playing dangerous games. Excuse me for a moment.’ His eyes darkened to furious points, and without another word the man began weaving forward through the crowd with a look of intent.
Dara followed suit, her heels forcing her to tread more carefully. ‘I’m not sure what I said to bother you, but this is hardly the place to cause a scene.’
Gianni turned his head, still walking. ‘You don’t need to witness this.’
Leo saw them approach and instantly shooed away the group of people surrounding him. ‘Gianni, you’re looking a bit more colourful.’ He smiled.
The old man jabbed a finger into Leo’s chest, standing so close they were almost nose to nose. ‘You say you’re not playing games, boy? Then explain what kind of agreement you have with this young lady? Do you plan to sell off the only link you have left to your family?’
Leo looked genuinely shocked for a moment. ‘Will you keep your voice down?’
Gianni shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. ‘Always worried about your precious image, Leo. I thought you were hurting when you did what you did to Valente Enterprises, but this—’ His voice cracked.
‘I’m not selling the damned castle,’ Leo spat harshly.
‘He’s not. I’m a wedding planner. We’re discussing an event contract.’
‘Stay out of this, Dara,’ Leo warned.
‘And I thought you were just entertaining the lady to charm her into bed,’ said Gianni. ‘It would be better if you sold it. Rather than make plans to exploit it like a cheap hotel.’
‘Nothing is going to be planned in that damned castle—you hear me? It’s staying there to rot.’
Dara felt the breath whoosh out of her lungs as she absorbed the reality of that statement. Neither man looked her way as they continued in their stand-off. Thankfully no one had noticed the little drama playing out in this quiet corner of the club.
‘Then why is she here?’ asked Gianni, voicing Dara’s own question.
Leo was silent for a moment, his eyes moving to look at her as if he had just remembered she was there. ‘This is none of your business, Gianni.’
Dara watched as the old man’s temper faded, to be replaced by a look of genuine hurt. Leo’s eyes were so dark they looked almost black in the dim lighting.
Dara spoke up, straightening her shoulders. ‘Well, it seems it’s none of my business either.’
Refusing to meet Leo’s eyes, she looked down.
‘Thank you for shedding some light on the situation, Mr Marcello.’
With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the club.
STOPPING TO GRAB her coat and bag from the cloakroom, Dara willed herself to calm down. She could feel the tension inside her stretching to breaking point.
After devoting the entire day working herself to the bone to impress him...
After spending one hair-raisingly stressful hour on the phone to every major designer, looking for uniforms...
After letting him make her feel self-conscious...
She honestly thought that if he was to follow her she might wind up hitting someone for the first time in her life.
She stepped out into the chilly Milan night, the cool air making her shiver in earnest through the haze of cold anger.
He emerged through the doors behind her just as explosively as he had the night before. ‘Dara, stop walking away and allow me to explain.’
‘How long were you planning on stringing me along for?’ She spun around to face him.
‘Let’s not do this on the street.’ He looked to where the security guards stood like silent sentries