Page 17 of Incognito

His lips curved into a knowing smile, the type of smile that implied he knew exactly how he’d affected her last night with those scintillating kisses, whether they were part of a mock charade or not.

“You will be handsomely reimbursed,” he added.

Natasha refrained from snorting. ‘Handsomely reimbursed’. Despite his scruffy appearance, he really sounded like an arrogant, pompous…prince.

“I don’t need your money.”

As soon as she uttered the retort, she heard the lie. The hotel did need the money, though no amount of remuneration Dante could offer would come close to clearing her debt.

In that moment, inspiration struck. She didn’t need his money, but she needed what his reputation could bring to the hotel. The prestige, the raised profile, the infamy, would send bookings through the roof and she intended on approaching him for help at the end of this week.

But what about now? The way she saw it, this could be the perfect exchange: her help with his mysterious ‘family business’ in exchange for his princely profile once he came out of the royal closet at the end of the week.

She couldn’t lose.

“I won’t take your money, but I think we can come to some other sort of arrangement,” she said, hoping he’d go for her idea.

Rather than looking surprised, his eyes glittered with intrigue as he leaned towards her, enveloping her in a sensual cloud of fresh air, citrus soap the hotel favoured, and pure Dante. Intoxicating, heady, and totally addictive.

“What sort of arrangement did you have in mind?”

His low, husky voice rippled over her like a caress, making her feel more desired than she ever had in all the clinches with Clay.

“Notthatsort of arrangement.” She stepped back and held her hands up as if trying to ward him off. This guy was seriously dangerous to her peace of mind. She should be telling him what to do with his PA offer and running a hundred miles in the opposite direction.

However, she didn’t have an option. She’d run out of options around the time she landed her family in this mess in the first place.

Dante was the answer to her problems. All she had to do was get her overactive imagination under control and she’d be okay. Telford Towers would be fine. Her family wouldn’t lose the business that meant everything to them, and her friends and employees wouldn’t be homeless and jobless.

She could do this.

She had to.

“The hotel needs to raise its profile and I was hoping that after your week of going incognito is over you wouldn’t mind me advertising your presence here. Perhaps you could take part in some promotions?”

The sensual glitter vanished, his eyes turning a cold, hard, Arctic blue. “Fine.”

Though he didn’t look fine. In fact, he looked like she’d just insulted him.

“Look, if you’re not comfortable—”

“I said it’s fine. Your help in exchange for mine. Now, what time do you finish?”

“Three.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby at three-thirty.” His brief, dismissive nod made her feel insignificant, probably the same as his army of servants must feel back in his homeland.

“Okey-dokey,” she muttered, casting a confused glance his way before making her way inside.

However, she barely made it past him when he stopped her with a hand on her arm. She stared at his hand—the long, elegant fingers, the clean, blunt fingernails, and the smooth tanned skin—a hand that had never done a day’s manual labour in its lifetime, a hand used to the best manicures and people fawning over it, a hand she should scorn but couldn’t considering its barest touch sent her pulse tripping.

“Thank you,” he said, so softly she had to lean forward to hear it, giving her another whopping dose of his heady scent.

“No worries.”

She managed a tight smile before slipping out of his grasp and heading into the hotel.

No worries indeed.

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