Page 20 of Incognito

“Positive.”

Her less than emphatic nod did little to convince him by his lips curving upwards in a knowing grin.

“Look, I want your help, but I need to be involved in this too. That’s the whole point of me coming to Australia a week earlier and going through this ruse. I want to make this special for Paolo, to get to know my nephew, and I can’t do that if I delegate all the work to you.”

He pressed a hand over his heart and hers melted a little. “I hoped we’d work as a team, you coming up with the information I need, me having enough input to feel like I’m not a totally useless uncle just breezing through on a fly-by official visit.”

The shield surrounding her heart cracked further at his declaration. Who wouldn’t like a guy for wanting the best for his toddler nephew?

If only Dante could be more uppity, more demanding, more…princely. That way, she could despise him for his airs and keep him at arms’ length. Instead, she found him too attractive and now with this softer side, she had a sinking feeling he could undermine her carefully erected defences.

She didn’t trust easily.

She didn’t like opening herself up to feeling like a fool.

And she sure as hell didn’t like her self esteem taking another swan dive when she admitted that the only reason a guy like Dante paid any attention to her was because of what she could do for him.

“Okay. I’ll get my laptop and meet you back here. We can grab a coffee at one of the nearby trattorias while we work.”

“Perfect,” he said, pinning her with an intense stare that made her wish for a host of crazy things: that his husky ‘perfect’ referred to her, that her not-so-perfect persona was willing to take a chance on having a little fun, and that maybe she could shrug off the weight of familial responsibility weighing down her shoulders and live a little today without thinking about tomorrow.

“Back in a sec.”

She turned and managed to walk to the lift with all the finesse of a runway model, minus the hip swivel. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling Dante watched her every step and when she risked a quick glance over her shoulder before stepping into the lift, which thankfully appeared sooner rather than later, he raised his hand in a brief wave.

She stumbled into the lift and hit the button for her floor, leaning on the cool steel wall for support.

So much for poise.

His wave hadn’t undermined her cool act as much as the sexy grin that implied he’d watched her fake strut to the lift and had enjoyed every minute of it.

Prince or not, saving her hotel or not, Dante was trouble.

And it looked like she’d landed in a heap of it.

12

Dante dealt with people from all walks of life, from diplomats to prime ministers, kings to blue collar workers. His mother said he had a gift for reading people, for knowing the right thing to say and when.

Somehow, the way the woman sitting next to him reacted every time he opened his mouth, hisgiftneeded some serious rewrapping.

“Come up with anything yet?”

She held up her hand, the grooves creasing her brow creating an adorable studious look. “Give me another minute, then I’ll show you what I’ve come up with.”

“Good,” he said, sitting back to finish his espresso, free to study her.

He couldn’t figure her out.

Natasha had an uptight business persona that she wore with pride, even in her out of work hours. And though she dressed like any other fashion-loving woman in her twenties—he’d had a difficult time tearing his eyes away from the way her cute butt filled out the black denim earlier and that racy red top accentuated every luscious curve—she didn’t act her age.

In his experience, women her age were spontaneous, fun-loving, and flirty, attributes he found irresistible. Yet Natasha didn’t appear to have an impulsive bone in her sensational body. She was serious, fastidious, and solemn.

What would it take to get her to loosen up a little?

He sipped his espresso, studying the way her shiny brown hair hung in a sleek curtain around her face, a deep, rich brown, the colour of Swiss chocolate and a perfect frame for her expressive face. He wouldn’t call her beautiful in the classical sense but there was something about her… the full lips, the slightly elongated nose, the large hazel eyes… striking. Her face was memorable and he could easily spend the next few hours staring at it.

By the serious glare she fixed on him with when her gaze swung up to meet his, he guessed that wouldn’t be happening.

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