Page 47 of Italian’s Christmas Acquisition

He had the influence.

He got out of the car ahead of his driver opening the door, and attended to it on behalf of Noelle, taking her hand and pulling her against him as he closed the door. “You do look beautiful,” he said.

Perhaps to add more to the moment. Perhaps to make her remember that it wasn’t only his offer to let her keep the bed-and-breakfast that had brought her here. It was the passion between them. That was real. It had nothing to do with his influence.

It certainly had nothing to do with his soup-making skills.

“So do you,” she said softly, touching the side of his face. Then he felt as if she had grabbed the thread inside of him and pulled it hard, unraveling something. He did not know what to make of that.

He did not know how to proceed. Except to walk up the steps holding tightly to her, entering the building.

There were so many women dressed in colorful dresses, and yet they remained indistinct blurs to him. The trouble was, everyone did. Even people who held influence at the event, the people that he wanted to network with, and speak to, meant so little. Because what he really wanted to do was take that dress off Noelle. To the degree that he resented that they had to go out at all. Of course, if they hadn’t gone out she wouldn’t have put that dress on.

Whenever someone talked to her, monopolized her attention, he resented it. It made him miss the bed-and-breakfast. It made him want to go back to the top of the secluded mountain with her where he did not have to consider anyone else ever.

It made him want to reclaim her for himself.

He hated that town. He hated that mountain. There was no reason for him to harbor fantasies about returning there. To that cluttered old house filled with dust catchers that she called knickknacks. Filled with memories that weren’t his own, and never would be.

He felt himself growing impatient. And perhaps it didn’t really matter if he was here at all. The business was now his to run by his own design. He no longer had to engage in endless expansion. He could simply maintain what was. Make better what existed, rather than cluttering up the earth with more resorts that nobody wanted or needed.

That was his mother’s grand design, of course. It was not his, and it never would be.

So maybe it was all right that he didn’t want to network. Maybe it was all right that what he really wanted to do was take Noelle straight back to his apartment.

Though there was a small amount of joy to be had when he watched her interact with the people around him. She was entirely out of her depth, and yet there was a glow about her that people seemed to find irresistible. God knew that he did.

Even as he grew jealous when other men monopolized her attention, he also felt pride that they saw what he did.

He found it increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself. He went from holding her hand to wrapping his arm around her waist. Pressing himself against her, moving his hand over her bare back, and then kissing her neck.

“Rocco,” she said.

“What?”

“We are in public.”

“I find myself bored of the public,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

Noelle had had a lovely evening, but Rocco had clearly been growing impatient. And every time he touched her it felt like he ignited a spark inside of her. Realizing the effect that she had on him, even in his environment... It emboldened her.

When they got out of the building, and into the limo, she positioned herself across the way from him. “That wasn’t very polite,” she said.

“What? We stayed an hour.”

“Barely,” she said. “And I was having a lovely time.”

“I’m glad for you,” he said. “But I found myself growing exceedingly impatient.”

“I gathered that.”

“Witch,” he said.

“Hardly,” she said.

But inside she felt satisfied. That he was undone. That she had this much power.

The way that his eyes glittered when he looked at her sent a shiver through her. This handsome man wanted her.

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