Italian Bachelors: Ruthless Propositions: Taming Her Italian Boss / The Uncompromising Italian / Secrets of the Playboy's Bride

Max almost choked. His family responsibilities? That was rich!

He opened his mouth to argue, but didn’t get very far. He became aware of a small but insistent tugging on the left leg of his trousers and looked down to find his niece standing there. She was trying to pull him in the direction of the pile of blocks on the rug near the fireplace.

His mother just smiled at him. ‘She’s not crying now, my darling son, and you said you’d stay if she stopped.’ She looked over at her granddaughter. Warmth and joy flared in her eyes. ‘It seems I am not the only one who has made my mind up about this—Sofia has, too.’

CHAPTER FIVE (#u44d6f22c-62d1-5fe1-a7f7-6e203a18167f)

MAX AND HIS MOTHER had had a long conversation out on the balcony, ironing out the details of her ultimatum. When they returned, Fina knelt down on the carpet beside Ruby and Sofia and joined in their game of piling up bricks into tall towers for Sofia to knock down again.

Fina smiled and laughed, totally absorbed in her granddaughter, while her son stood, towering and silent on the fringes of the room. Ruby shot him a sideways look and found him staring back at her. She swallowed. She felt a little guilty that she’d ended up unwittingly providing Fina with leverage to use against him, but not guilty enough to regret she’d done it.

Despite Fina’s superior manner and haughty words, Ruby had seen the way she’d looked at Max. That was a mother hungry for her son’s company and, just like a child who’d settle for negative attention when they couldn’t get praise, in desperation she’d taken whatever she could get.

Funnily, Ruby warmed to Fina for that. She wished her own father looked at her that way sometimes, but she’d never once got the impression from him that he was hungry for more of her company. No, he’d seemed perfectly content to push her out of the nest at an early age.

‘I’d better go and check out of the hotel and get our bags,’ Max finally growled.

Ruby stood up and brushed her skirt down. ‘I’ll help you.’ That was the least she could do.

He scowled at her, indicating she’d done enough already. She ignored it and followed him as he headed out of the door. She had to trot to keep up with him as he marched down the corridor and down the sweeping staircase.

‘So, what’s going on?’ she finally asked. ‘I presume we’re staying, for a short while, at least.’

Max sighed. ‘My mother and I have come to an...arrangement.’ He shuddered slightly, as if the idea of compromise was an abhorrent concept.

He was doing it again: failing to fill her in on the important stuff. ‘Which is?’

Max stopped on the stairs and turned, hands still in pockets. ‘My mother has agreed she will care for Sofia when she’s free, with your help, of course, but only if I stay for a minimum of seven days. Otherwise she’s happy to escort us all to the airport where we can catch the next plane back to London.’

Ruby’s face crumpled into a bemused smile. ‘She’d really do that?’

He grunted and set off again. ‘You have no idea how stubborn my mother can be when she puts her mind to it.’

Ruby didn’t reply to that. The only response that came to mind was that maybe he was more like his mother than he realised, and she’d got herself into enough trouble already with him this morning.

She studied the back of his head carefully as she followed him down the stairs. Did he really not get that this ultimatum had nothing to do with his sister’s childcare issues and everything to do with Fina wanting to repair the gaping breach in her family? Ruby had also gone to extreme lengths to get just a crumb of her father’s attention in her teenage years, and she understood completely why Fina had done it.

‘And what about the Institute of Fine Art? The plans?’

He turned as he reached the ground floor, looking surprised.

‘Couldn’t help overhearing you on the phone last night. And then there are the drawings littered all over the suite...’

Max ran a hand through his hair as they emerged from the palazzo onto the dock and wearily took in the grand and crumbling buildings around them. ‘I’m in Venice...’ he said, and she sensed he was quoting his mother verbatim. ‘The most beautiful city in the world. What better inspiration could I have?’

* * *

Thankfully, Max discovered his mother hadn’t disposed of the little motor launch that had once been his grandfather’s. By the looks of it, she’d kept it in immaculate condition. The varnish wasn’t peeling and the navy paint on the sides was fresh and thick. He jumped in, stood behind the small windscreen and slid the key into the ignition to start it up. Ruby, unmissable in that damn strawberry dress, clambered in hesitantly then plopped down on the seat at the back. He put the boat in gear and set off through some of the narrower canals.

He’d spent every summer here as a boy, even before his parents’ divorce, and it amazed him that, even though he hadn’t driven a boat here in more than two decades, the old routes and back-doubles came to him easily. His passenger didn’t say much. She spent most of the journey to the Lagoon Palace looking up at the tall buildings, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide. It was only when they moored the boat a short distance from the hotel’s private jetty, where only the dedicated shuttles from the bus and train stations were allowed to dock, that Ruby began to talk again.

‘So, what are the finer points of your agreement with your mother? You can’t have spent that long arguing about it without going into details.’

He sighed as he led her up a narrow cobbled calle between buildings and out onto a wider one that led to the foot entrance of the hotel. He’d known he wouldn’t be able to win his mother over to his plan from the moment he’d stepped out onto the balcony with her. He had, however, managed to broker a deal that meant his stay here would be on his terms.

‘I have conceded to spend a couple of hours each morning with Sofia while my mother is at work and to attend a family dinner each evening.’ He couldn’t help the slight tone of disgust in his voice at the word ‘family’.

She kept up pace, slightly behind him. ‘And what did she concede?’

‘That I should have the rest of the time to work on my design and do my business.’

‘Will that do?’

He stared straight ahead and looked grim. ‘It will have to.’ As they entered the hotel through the street entrance he sighed. ‘What’s the alternative? At least this way I’m only tied up for seven days, instead of two weeks or more in a totally unsuitable apartment. Aside from the fact you’d be trying to stop Sofia breaking her neck every moment of the day, I’ve only got one bedroom.’

Ruby swallowed and her face grew just a little closer to the shade of her dress. ‘No, I can see that would be a...’ she swallowed again ‘...problem.’

‘I don’t know why she does these things. For some reason my mother isn’t happy unless she’s creating havoc in everyone else’s lives as well as her own.’ He shook his head.

They’d arrived at the suite now, and the next quarter of an hour was spent packing up their belongings. And then they checked out and headed back to the boat. Max carried his bag, his laptop case and his document tube, and she took care of her own rucksack and Sofia’s bag.

He decided to take a less direct, but maybe more scenic, route back. If she’d liked the little crumbling buildings of the back canals, she’d love some of the palazzos on the Grand Canal. He pointed a few of them out to her, telling her a few of the famous stories connected with them, many of which he guessed had been embellished over time with a healthy drop of the Venetian love for drama and spectacle. She chatted back, asking him questions and laughing at the more ridiculous tales, so it kind of took him by surprise when she suddenly said, ‘I don’t think she’s done this to cause trouble, you know. I think she just wants to spend time with you and, yes, she’s gone about it a back to front kind of way, but she’s not asking anything terrible, is she?’

He didn’t say anything. Just stared straight ahead. Suddenly he didn’t feel like playing tour guide any more.

He should have remembered this one was different, that she wasn’t like his employees at the firm, that she liked to say things she shouldn’t and be inquisitive. None of them had ever dared to comment on his personal life. But then he’d never given any of them a personal tour of Venice, either.

He thought about what she’d said and let out a low growl of a laugh.

‘What?’ she asked, never one to miss an opportunity to stick her nose in.

‘Now, maybe, my mother seems like that,’ he said gruffly, ‘but she’s a hypocrite.’

Despite the bustle and noise of the city—the purr of outboard motors, the noise of the seagulls and pigeons and the ever steady hum of a million tourists’ exclamations—the air around them went very still. He’d shocked her into silence, had he? Well, good.

‘She deserted my father and left him broken-hearted. He never got over it. So don’t talk to me about family loyalty.’

He turned to look over his shoulder, wanting some grim satisfaction in seeing her squirm, but instead he found her looking at him, her eyes large and warm. He looked away again.

‘How old were you when she left?’ she asked softly, almost whispering.

He forgot to ask how she’d guessed, too caught up in a sideswipe of memories that left him gripping the steering wheel so hard it burnt his fingers. ‘Fourteen,’ he answered hoarsely. ‘She said she didn’t want to disrupt my education, so she took Gia and left me in London.’

There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice this time. ‘That was thoughtful, wasn’t it?’

He made that same almost animalistic sound that could pass as a laugh again. ‘It was an excuse. I’m too like my father, you see. Or I was. He died five months ago.’

There was a shuffling noise behind him. He couldn’t resist a quick glance. Now he’d got what he’d wanted. Her cheeks were flushed red and she was looking down at her flat little black ballet pumps.