Dreaming Of... Italy: Daring to Trust the Boss / Reunited with Her Italian Ex / The Forbidden Prince

He smiled benignly. “It’s quite all right.”

She wasn’t in the mood for a drink, but a little caffeine might give her some energy. “Do you have iced tea?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He left as quickly and quietly as he’d arrived, brought her drink and disappeared again. She sipped her tea, then flipped over so she didn’t get too burned.

But even before she settled on the chaise, she had the strangest feeling. Like someone was watching her.

She sat up and glanced at the house. The entire back of the first floor of the renovated house looked to be a wall of windows. Because of the framing, she guessed some of the ‘windows’ were actually double doors. But the angle of the sun made the glass dark. She couldn’t see inside.

She adjusted the strap on her suit, smoothed her hands down her legs, unable to shake the feeling of being exposed.

She frowned. Of course, she was exposed. She was outside. Lounging on the patio of a house that had at least one maid, a butler and a driver. There was probably a cook and a gardener, too. Four people could be gawking at her if they wanted to be. But why would they want to?

It was stupid to be paranoid. A better explanation for what she was feeling was guilt that Tucker and Constanzo were working and she wasn’t. She hadn’t come to Italy to lie about. As it was, Tucker Engle didn’t like having her along. Even if the trip had been grueling and she was tired, she had to get to work. Plus, she’d had a nice little nap. She had her brain back.

After gathering her cover-up, she padded to her room, put on her plain trousers and yellow shirt and headed downstairs again.

The house was a maze of corridors and beautifully decorated rooms. She could have stopped in every parlor to examine the furnishings and art she was sure was real, but needing to find Tucker and Constanzo, she kept looking until she found the pair in a den.

Playing darts. Drinking beer.

She shook her head. “You know, I was out by the pool, feeling bad because I wasn’t working, and here’s where I find you guys? Playing darts.”

Tucker faced her. His suit coat lay across the back of an overstuffed recliner. His white shirt sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, his black-and-silver striped tie loosened. He looked so casually gorgeous, she swallowed hard.

Her foolish attraction was growing, but at least now she understood why. He’d grown up poor, but he was successful now. Just as she wanted to be. They had common ground. He wasn’t just a good-looking guy. He was somebody she wanted to know.

“Vivi, come in! Do you throw?”

Glad for the distraction of Constanzo, she settled herself on the arm of an overstuffed chair beside the pool table. The room wasn’t dripping with diamonds or gold the way one might expect a billionaire’s house might be. Instead it seemed to exist for Constanzo’s comfort. Which, she supposed, was the way a billionaire should live.

“No, I don’t throw.”

“Your boss is beating me.”

She laughed. But Tucker kept his attention focused on the dart game. She hoped he wasn’t angry with her. He was the one who had suggested she sit by the pool while he and Constanzo talked. So he couldn’t be angry with her.

She let her gaze drift around the room but she stopped suddenly when she saw the chaise lounge with the empty iced-tea glass sitting on the table beside it.

Her gazed jerked to Tucker’s. This time he didn’t look away. His perfect emerald eyes heated.Her breath leached out in a slow hiss. Pinpricks of awareness skittered down her spine. He’d seen her in the bathing suit.

She tried to be Zen about it, because, really, it was a one-piece suit. So what if he’d seen her legs? It meant nothing.

But he didn’t let go of her gaze and she couldn’t let go of his.

Okay. So it meant something.

He picked up a dart and tossed it toward the board. It landed with a thud that mirrored the thudding of her heart. She didn’t want to like another guy who was so far out of her stratosphere...but how did she stop this? Her feelings for him were unexpected. So natural she didn’t have any warning they were going to pop up until they did. And his?

She had no idea.

CHAPTER SIX (#u6879cbc6-655c-52b9-9f40-379f3c2fefbd)

PLEADING A NEED to get some work done, Tucker left the den shortly after Olivia arrived and she didn’t see him again until he entered the dining room for dinner that evening.

As Tucker walked in one door, Constanzo entered from the other side. Concern wrinkled his forehead and turned his mouth into a frown. “I’m so sorry. There’s a problem at one of my companies. We are video conferencing in ten minutes. I would tell you that I’ll return shortly and join you for dinner, but the problem is significant.”

Vivi’s heart stuttered. She and Tucker Engle had to eat alone?

Tucker said, “I understand.”

She just barely kept herself from groaning. It absolutely looked as if they were eating alone.

“Excellent. You and Vivi enjoy dinner.”

He scurried out of the dining room and Tucker faced her.

As always, he wore a dark suit that looked to have been made for him, white silk shirt and silver tie. She wore a light-weight floral dress with thin straps, something she’d bought at the end of the season the year before and paid less than half price for. Her hair hung straight—freshly washed, but just straight. His shiny dark hair had been combed to perfection.

If that wasn’t a reminder that they lived in two different worlds she didn’t know what was. He’d never make a pass at her and, if he did, she’d never flirt back because they did not belong together. They were too different.

But even before she finished that thought, he loosened his tie and pulled it off then undid the top two buttons of his shirt.

“Good evening, Miss Prentiss.”

Oh, Lord. He was dressing down for her. And casually, so he wouldn’t embarrass her. It was the sweetest thing, but she reminded herself they weren’t a good match. He might be the first guy she was attracted to since Cord, but he wasn’t interested in her. He was only being polite. A man who was interested wouldn’t call her Miss Prentiss.

“Good evening, Mr. Engle.”

He motioned toward a chair and she walked over. He pulled it out and she sat.

Ambling to the seat across the table from hers, he asked, “Do you know what Constanzo’s cook prepared?”

“This afternoon he told me she was making a lasagna as lasagna is supposed to be made.”

He laughed. “Leave it to him to be melodramatic.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells, I think he’s allowed a little melodrama.”

As servants filled their glasses with water, Olivia struggled to think of something to say. Thick with the protocol of servants and a long row of silverware, the scene reminded her yet again that she and Tucker Engle had nothing in common.

When the servants left, she took a quiet breath and said, “Constanzo beat me in four games of pool this afternoon.”

“It was kind of you to entertain him.”

“He says it’s boring for an old man to sit around his house with nothing to do. He says he should have grandkids and be teaching a little girl how to swim and a little boy how to hustle pretty girls in pool.”