Billionaires: The Hero: A Deal for the Di Sione Ring / The Last Di Sione Claims His Prize / The Baby Inheritance

He nodded. “You did a great job.”

She exhaled. “I was worried you’d be angry.”

“If you’d gone up there and presented the financial results for the year I would have been, yes. But you presented material you knew.” He rested an appraising gaze on her. “I’m thinking of offering you a dual role when we get back to New York. Part of the time as my protégée and part of the time on the global marketing team. If you want to go in that direction.”

“Sì.” She gave a sharp nod of her head. “I do. Mille grazie. That means so much to me, Nate.”

His mouth quirked. “See what you think when you meet my director of marketing. She’s a fire-breathing dragon. But the best in the business.”

They joined Mingmei for dinner in the rooftop restaurant with its spectacular view of the city. Watching Nate’s former lover more closely, she determined Susana had been right. Mingmei’s repartee with Nate was utterly professional, but every once in a while Mina caught a glimpse of something in the other woman’s eyes. A wistfulness? An admiration that extended to the man beneath the title.

“Mingmei is lovely,” she said as they walked into their suite.

Nate flicked a glance at her. “You should know we were once lovers. In case you hear talk.”

She shrugged off her wrap. “Susana told me. I think she thought it was better I knew.”

“It was three years ago, before she came to work for me. There is nothing between us now.”

On his part. She pressed her lips shut, her gaze dropping away from his. “You don’t have to explain your personal life to me.”

With that, she took her irrational jealousy off to the bathroom to wash up before bed. Nate was still working when she wished him good-night, offering an absent-minded one in return. Determined to be asleep by the time he joined her, she quickly swept the rose petals out of the bed and into the trash can and curled up with a book to put herself to sleep. An hour and a half after she’d gone to bed, she was still awake, staring at the ceiling, when Nate came in.

She averted her gaze as he stripped, hung up his suit and got into bed.

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“No.”

Laughter rumbled from his throat. “Likely a good thing. The only ones I can think of would be strictly X-rated.”

“Nate!”

“Go to sleep, Mina.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. He turned on his side and all was quiet. The clocked ticked loudly on the mantelpiece over the fireplace. Dannazione, but she was restless. Rolling on her side she hugged her pillow. It was too soft—she hated soft pillows. Reaching for the other pillow she’d dropped on the floor, she tried that one out. It was too hard.

A sigh left her throat.

“Good God.” Nate reached over and flicked on the light. Which put his amazing, sculpted chest on display. She’d never seen anything like it, muscle and sinew converging in a mouthwatering work of art.

His gaze raked over her face. Dropped lower to the lace nightie Susana had insisted she buy for her honeymoon. The look on his face sent all the blood in her body rushing to her twin heated cheeks.

“I don’t sleep much,” he said grimly, returning his gaze to her face, “but I do need a few hours. So let me assure you I am not crossing the center line tonight. Despite that enticing scrap of lace you’re wearing. Despite the fact that it has Take me written all over it and it’s not helping by adding to my list of fantasies.”

Her gaze tangled with his. His eyes were so dark she could walk right into them and lose herself completely. It was tempting, so tempting, to do so. To throw common sense out the window.

“Susana made me buy it,” she whispered. “Not my idea.”

His laser-like stare said that fact was inconsequential.

She turned her back on him, clutching the hard pillow to her, her heart slamming in her chest. She wanted so badly to know what those fantasies were. Wanted his beautiful hands on her as he acted them out. Wanted to feel as alive as he’d made her feel that night in his arms in Capri. To know for once in her lonely life what it was like to be the center of someone’s orbit—a man like Nate’s orbit. To experience that heady, inescapable passion...

But she wasn’t going to be the one to cross the line, either. She had far too much at stake.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#u9e10057e-820a-507c-9f07-14235bd0355e)

THE WEEK IN Hong Kong flew by at a blindingly fast pace. They had an initial meeting with Sheng Zhu the following day in which the celebrity chef outlined his vision for a new avant-garde restaurant at the Grand that, he promised, would be the talk of the city.

Mina got a chance to see the razor-sharp, ruthless side of her new boss as Nate systematically picked Sheng Zhu’s proposal apart and pressed for additional exclusivity. She had no doubt he’d walk away from the partnership if it wasn’t tailored to his liking, and apparently neither did Sheng Zhu, who promised to return the morning they were to fly out with an updated proposal.

She spent the rest of the week learning the operations of the hotel alongside Nate and Mingmei. By the end of the week her head was so crammed full of information she had almost been able to forget about her and Nate’s sleeping arrangements.

Almost. Not that Nate slept. He worked more than any human being she’d ever encountered, coming to bed long after she’d fallen asleep and rising before she did. She had no idea how he functioned with such little rest, but it did the trick, minimizing the contact between them.

Tonight, however, their last night in Hong Kong, was going to be a challenge. Mingmei had prepared a special honeymoon dinner for them in their suite. Unless they wanted to look ungrateful they were going to have to go through the motions.

She eyed the suite warily as she and Nate returned from their meetings. The dining table near the windows with the spectacular view of the harbor had been set for two, tall, tapered candles flickering in the center of it, champagne cooling in an ice bucket. The lighting had been muted, a classic piece by Ella Fitzgerald playing in the background, a tray of oysters at the ready.

Her mouth went dry. Ignoring her attraction to Nate was one thing in a room full of people. Another entirely in the middle of a seduction scene.

A sparkle caught her eye. Moving further into the salon she found an evening gown draped over a chair, a delicate pair of glittering stiletto heels beside it and a card that said “Wear me” propped up beside the dress.

Nate strolled over to pick up the embossed envelope that sat beside it.

Sliding the card out, he read its contents. “‘A 2002 Piper-Heidsieck is on its way. Enjoy the music and some dancing before your six-course dinner featuring some of Hong Kong’s great delicacies.’”

Nate raised an eyebrow at Mina’s expression.

“Afraid I’ll step on your toes? I happen to be a very good dancer.”

He knew exactly what it was she was afraid of and it wasn’t the dancing! She tossed her hair over her shoulder in what she hoped was a nonchalant gesture. “I am sure you are very smooth. Part of your lady-killer image.”

An openly amused look crossed his face. “Lady-killer? Where did you get that from? An old movie?”

She ignored him and picked up the dress. The Asian-inspired design was done in a deep buttercream color with the most exquisite beadwork and embroidery she’d ever seen.

“Go put it on before the champagne comes,” said Nate.

She did, if only to distract herself. The dress might have encompassed plenty of material, but it was snug, molded to her body in a perfect fit that emphasized all her curves. The only nod toward daring was the low back that left much of her skin bare.

That Mingmei clearly had a perfect eye for style didn’t surprise her in the least. Slipping on the sparkly stilettos, which fit perfectly, she returned to the salon. Nate had taken his jacket off, elegant and minimalistic in a silver-gray shirt and black trousers that molded his muscular body to perfection. His inescapable virility in the suddenly very small space rolled over her in a heady wave of awareness.

His gaze ate her up in a frank appraisal that made her lungs tight. “I should have left my jacket and tie on. In the face of such perfection...”