“Not in this case. La Dolce Maggie owns the same spot in the Venetian and sales are rocketing.”

“This isn’t America,” she retorted. “Milano is a hard city to conquer, especially with a hotel with American in-fluences. you may get the tourists, but pastry buyers prefer a window shop on the right.”

His teeth flashed from the wolfish grin. “Perhaps. But I already have a use for that prime space. you can make it up in other ways—you don’t have to rely on passersby for main profits any longer.”

Irritation pricked her nerves. “An interesting but com-pletely inane opinion.”

one golden brow arched. “Inane, huh?”

She smoothly continued. “The impulse buyer hap-pens to bring a high level of profit we don’t want to lose.

especially since, as you Americans like to say, we have our eggs in one basket.”

“But it’s a hell of a basket.”

The wicked curl of seduction tipped his words. She ignored it, but her heart pounded anyway. “Perhaps. Though a bit small.”

His bark of laughter startled her. Julietta fought a flush of pleasure at her ability to make him laugh. He drew his hands back and slowly unknotted his scarf. Slid off his coat and hung it neatly on the back of the chair. Why did this basic stripping of outer clothes affect her like this? As if she was in his private bedroom waiting for the finale. Her gaze probed his clothes as she wondered what type of body he sported beneath the thin fabric. His muscles seemed tight in all the right places. When he’d pinned her against the wall, everything felt rock hard and powerful.

“Now that was an interesting thought,” he murmured.

This time, she blushed. Hurriedly ducking her head, she pretended to neaten the pile of papers before swiveling the chair around. The massive desk hid most of her body and gave her a layer of protection she badly needed. “So, can we adjust our original location?”

“No.”

She stiffened. “Why not?”

He adjusted his cuffs as if he had all the time in the world. “Because I don’t want to. My plan will work bet-ter.”

“What if I disagree with your opinion?” She rolled the last word around in mockery to make her point.

He gave a half shrug. “I don’t care. Final approval, remember?”

Julietta sucked in a breath. “Are you using this as leverage for your ridiculous offer?”

Humor glinted in his eyes. “I don’t need leverage, Julietta. Personal relationships do not have to affect my business ventures. In this case, I want you badly enough to take a gamble.” His obvious ease with admitting he wanted to take her to bed reminded her she was sparring with an expert. And for one crazy moment, she wanted to play in a different arena. Wanted to leap and take a chance on something that scared the crap out of her.

Her protective stance behind her desk suddenly seemed like a prison. She got to her feet and moved, keeping a safe distance between them. His obvious amusement raised her hackles again and she blurted out the words to push him off guard. “Let’s negotiate terms.”

“I told you. The space decision is final.”

“I’m talking about our night together.”

That did it. Surprise flitted across his carved features.

“you want to discuss bullet points?”

She ignored his question and sank into the world where she was most comfortable. Business. Her heels tapped on the polished wood as she paced with slow, steady movements. “of course. I’ve been thinking about your offer. At first glance, it seems like a solid compromise due to my inability to reach certain physical aspects most other women are able to achieve.”

He shook his head, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and stared. “I hear a ‘but’ in there.”

“But I feel it’s too easy of a mark for you to hit. I think by raising the terms to two orgasms, it will be a fairer competition for either of us to win.”

His mouth opened but nothing came out. Satisfaction coursed through her at his sudden inability to speak. About time she finally grabbed the upper hand. He finally found his voice. “We’re negotiating the number of orgasms now?”

She frowned. “of course. I didn’t limit your option clause to specified use of any toys, so really, you may pull out an advantage. And let’s be honest, shall we? Achieving one orgasm may be difficult but achievable with the focus of an estimated eight hours. Two would be much harder and bring us on a more equal playing field.”

“Holy shit. you’re not kidding.”

Annoyance fluttered through her. “I’m sorry, perhaps I was mistaken. Was this a negotiable, valid offer or not?”

He let out a deep belly laugh, the rich tone booming and pumping the room with life. “God, you’re magnificent,” he murmured. Suddenly, the laughter faded and was replaced by a glimmer of hard lust. Her toes curled in her bone-colored pumps. “you are correct, Julietta. This is a valid offer and negotiations are definitely in play.”

Her confidence wobbled. Why did it feel like he was back in charge? She reminded herself to stick to business and not get distracted by his sexiness. After all, he probably used such assets to his advantage. “Very good. I believe we should raise the limit from one to two.”

“Done.”

She blinked. Way too easy. Why did he seem so danger-ous? His tongue wet his bottom lip as if imagining her taste when he finally pounced. “oh. Well, good. Then I guess we have a deal.”

“oh, we’re not finished.” Sawyer moved toward her a few steps and studied her face. “I assume, first off, this will not be a written contract, but verbal?”

She fought the blush this time and won. “yes, I trust your word and would rather this deal not be in ink.”

“Agreed.” one more step in. She slid her foot back in a casual manner and gained another inch of distance. “Time is important. you mentioned eight hours. I think we should be more specific—let’s say eight p.m. to eight a.m. for a full twelve hours.”

“Uh, I don’t think I should be staying overnight. or sleeping in your bed. How about eight to two?”

“Nonnegotiable. I’ll need a certain amount of intimacy to have a fair shot at getting you two orgasms. you will stay the night.”

She hated the idea and had been hoping to scurry out before the morning light. “I’ll agree to six a.m., but no later.”

Was that pride reflected in his face or her imagination?

“Agreed. Let’s discuss location. Where shall this take place?

your apartment?”

Julietta frowned. “No. It should be on neutral territory.”

“I’ll book a hotel.”

She dragged her other foot back. “I don’t want any gossip. Discreetness is key.”

“I promise to take care of it. Do you trust me?”

Did she? Did she trust him to keep her secret safe, along with the use of her body? yes. The word floated from her gut and she didn’t question it. Julietta had learned the hard way to always trust her instincts, whether she wanted to or not. “yes.”

Satisfaction gleamed from his eyes. He moved forward three steps. “Thank you.”

Her fingers curled into tight fists. “Prego. Anything else?”

“yes. Methods.”

Mio Dio. “What type of methods?”

An intimate smile curved his lips. “Am I allowed to use toys? or just my fingers and mouth?”

Her heart thundered so loud she heard the boom, boom, boom echo in the room. The idea of him using a vibrator on her was too much to handle. She shook her head. “No, no toys. It gives you an unfair advantage.”

“Hmm, I’m tempted to fight you on this point. I can further your pleasure and take you higher.”

Perspiration dampened her palms. “No, thank you.”

“Very well. It will give me something to work for.”

Not able to take his closeness, she pivoted and practi-cally raced back toward the safety of her desk. “Good. I think that’s it. I should get back to work.”

His voice was whisper soft. “When?”

She dived into the chair. “Saturday night?”

“Done. oh, and one more thing, Julietta. It’s a rule and I won’t bend on this one.”

Her stomach dropped. “What rule?”

Slowly, he moved toward her. Her haven became a prison as he came around the desk, grasped the supple leather arms of the chair, and swiveled her around to face him head-on. Thoughts emptied from her head and turned her into a wide-eyed idiot. His scent swarmed her nostrils, and he dragged the chair a few inches forward. Leaned in.

Stopped a hair’s breadth from her lips.

“I’m in charge. The moment you enter that door, your body belongs to me. I tell you to do something, you must agree to do it.”

She trembled. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not going to do everything you say.”

“Then no deal.”

His gaze drilled hers and confirmed there was no back-ing down. All or nothing. “What if I’m uncomfortable or scared?”

His face softened. He ran an index finger over the curve of her lip. “I’d never hurt you. I’ll give you a way to slow things down, or stop, but you need to trust me.”

There was that word again. Trust. Trust a man with a savage scar and no past, who was a sexual force to be reckoned with. Again her gut screamed the answer, and the word broke from her lips.

“Va bene.”

The triumph in those butterscotch eyes almost made her withdraw her consent. Almost. He must have known she was tempted, because with one last stroke of his fingers, he pulled back and gave her space. “Saturday night, then. I’ll let you know where to meet me.” He shrugged on his coat, twirled the scarf around his neck, and headed toward the door. “Let me know if you have any problems with Wolfe. I’ll be in touch.”

He walked out without another word.

Julietta shuddered and wondered if she’d just made a bargain with Hades himself.

…

“I don’t want this kid involved.”

Julietta held back a sigh and faced her long-term, opinionated director of marketing. She’d never particularly cared for him, even if he was good at his job. She found him a bit snobby, with his designer clothes, his perfect posture, and his tendency to pass judgment on everyone. He was probably the biggest gossip in the place, and most of the female employees panted after him. She took in his crisp blue suit, Gucci boots, and stylish Stone rose pink shirt. Dark hair was cut ruthlessly short to accent riveting green eyes and a sculpted mouth.

Julietta found that so-called sensual mouth quite sulky and his voice whiny. He liked getting his way just to say he could.

He adjusted his diamond cuff links and jerked his head toward the closed door of the conference room. “He looks like a criminal. I’m certainly not working with a teenager with an attitude problem.”

Julietta tamped down her impatience. “you don’t have to work with him long term, Marcus. He’ll have little to do with marketing—he’s here to help us transition and get on board with the Purity vision. We sell Purity, we sell La Dolce Famiglia. Simple math.”